#i felt like that was too many actually so i removed a couple i can’t remember getting responses to these things from

[la-principessa-nuova]

This or That Game.

coffee shop or flower shop | au or fix-it | enemies to lovers or childhood friends | angst or fluff | love at first sight or pining | modern au or historical au | soulmates or unrequited | fake dating or secret dating | break up & make up or proposal & weddings | get together or established relationship | oblivious pining or domestic fluff | hurt/comfort or crack | meet the parents or meet cute

Tagging

@tattle-tayler @learningtogirl @valuepack-catgirl @a-high-femme @bookmothic-dyke @drmothmaam @elis-pride

This or That Game. coffee shop or flower shop | au or fix-it | enemies to lovers or childhood friends | angst or fluff | love at first sight or pining | modern au or historical au | soulmates or unrequited | fake dating or secret dating | break up & make up or proposal & weddings | get together or established relationship | oblivious pining or domestic fluff | hurt/comfort or crack | meet the parents or meet cute Tagging

@alloftimeandspaceisours @estrogenic-ella @la-principessa-nuova @nathaira-stern

[gallavichsreddie1128]

If She Knew....3 (Joel Miller)

Description: Ellie freaks out on Joel after he confronts Ellie about her behavior towards her sister

Warning: Smut

Word Count:1,566

Part One Part Two

It was eating Ellie alive, her sister and Joel. She knew that eventually the truth would come to life but how long were they willing to take this? She watched as they laughed and talked, everything coming together. They acted like a couple all of the time and it was right in front of her face. “Has she talked to you?” Joel asked Y/N who was damn near on his lap. “Barely.” She mumbled, taking a sip of her wine. Joel shook his head, her not talking to him was one thing but to not talk to her sister actually made him mad.

Y/N was very upset over it and Joel hated to see her upset. Ellie was being very disrespectful towards them and he bit his tongue too many times. “She has no reason to be like that towards you.” He nearly growled. Y/N looked at him, he looked pissed. “Joel, she’s probably going through it right now. I mean Seth was being a dick to her and she’s probably embarrassed that we stuck up for her.” Y/N tried but Joel shook his head, “Don’t matter. You’re her sister.” He said. Y/N traced patterns on his chest, “She’s an adult now. I can’t always protect her.” “Well it isn’t bad that you try.” Though Y/N agreed with him but she understood Ellie being upset over it.

“I know but she could have handled that her-” “I don’t care!” Joel stood up, his voice booming. Y/N looked up at him in shock, “Joel.” She said but he shook his head. “She can act that way with me, sure but you? No, she’s not treating you like that! You’ve done a lot for her.” He exclaimed. Y/N slowly stood up and placed her wine on the table, she looked at Joel who was very upset and pulled him to her, “I appreciate you looking out for me but she’ll get over it.” Y/N whispered to him before kissing him. Joel hated how easy he folded when it came to her but she wouldn’t change it for the world.

Y/N pushed him down on the couch, a grunt escaping him as she climbed on him. She tried to keep kissing him but he pulled away, breathing hard. “You surely know how to distract me from serious shit.” He said and she giggled, “Yeah, it’s my talent.” She shrugged and kissed him again. She was already wet from this and he was barely touching her, her hips started grinding against his as she grew desperate. Ellie in the garage for the night, they had no worries of her coming inside, given the time so they weren’t moving.

“I need you Joel.” She whined against his lips, her hips moving faster. “Get off on my thigh.” He told her and she nearly stopped grinding, “What?” She asked and he smirked, “You think you can distract me like that and get my dick? No, you can cum on my thigh tonight.” Her jaw dropped, he never turned down sex but given her motives she understood why. His hands moved her hips so she was no longer grinding on his dick, she looked down and saw that she was now straddling his thigh. He had the perfect thighs for riding and the more she thought about it, the more wet she got. “Well?” She looked up at him and sighed, she wasn’t extremely happy that it wasn’t his dick but she wasn’t ungrateful.

Her hips moved against his thigh, her arms wrapped around his neck as she stared at him. Her PJ pants and panties in the way of feeling his rough jeans against her clit. But it felt really good anyway, “Fuck.” She whispered and her head fell back, Joel’s hands dragging her hips on him. “Bet your little pussy is drooling from this.” He said and oh he was right. She was soaked in her panties and needed to get out of them asap. “So good.” She mumbled and gripped his thigh, speeding up. She looked so hot, so pathetic humping his thigh.

He would cherish this view forever. “Joel, let me take my-” but her moan cut her words off and he stopped her hips. She got off his thigh and removed her pants and panties. His eyes widened at her panties that were drenched in her juices, how was she this turned on? He immediately pulled her back on his thigh, she gasped as her needy clit came in contact with his rough jeans, “Fuck.” She whispered. His jeans felt amazing, better than she thought it would feel and when he dragged her hips on his thigh she whined his name. “Does that feel good, baby?” He asked as he watched her face, knowing the answer.

She tried to speak, to form words but each thrust of her hips had her moaning. “So fucked out on my thigh, you can’t even talk.” He tsked at her but she didn’t care. All she could care about was the pleasure building in between her legs. His jeans were drenched at this point but the sight was so hot to him that he didn’t even care. Her eyes nearly rolled as she felt her high approaching, “J-Joel.” She tried to warn him but he knew.

He knew her body so well by this point that he didn’t even need to be inside of her to know, “Cum for me. Drench my fuckin’ thigh.” He whispered and watched as her hips stuttered and lost rhythm, he helped her drag her pussy as she came, moaning his name loudly. “Fuck. Such a beautiful sight.” He praised as she rode out her high. She was panting like a dog by the time she was down from her high and he smirked, “Now that was hot.” He said and slapped her ass. She gave him a tired smile and yawned, exhausted from her orgasm. She got off his thigh with shaky legs and grabbed her clothes going upstairs, “You coming?” She asked and he got up and followed her up the stairs. 

Ellie just got back from hanging out with Dina and her sister wasn’t in sight, it was just Joel who looked very disappointed in her. He had asked her in the morning while Y/N was still asleep if she would come down to his office to talk. She was hesitant but agreed, “You wanted to talk?” She asked him, standing in the doorway. “Have a seat.” He motioned for her to sit in the chair across from him. She rolled her eyes but did as she waited for him to speak. “Your sister is worried about you.” He starts, “She thinks you’re still mad at her for sticking up for you.” Ellie was over that and onto the fact that the old man across from her is fucking her sister.

“She’s doing her job. She loves you and cares for you. I think you need to get over whatever you are holding against her.” So, he didn’t play when it came to Y/N, Ellie thought. She chuckled a little bit and Joel didn’t like that, “You find this funny?” He asked and Ellie shook her head, “Not that, No.” She said. “You think it’s funny to disrespect her like that?” He asked her. She looked at him like he was crazy, “I’m not disrespecting her-” “You are! You’re barely talking to her over something stupid!” He yelled at her.

“You can act like that with me all you want but she’s your sister and you will respect her.” What Ellie said next slipped out in the heat of the moment but the look on his face was one not to regret, “So you think that just because you’re fucking my sister you get to tell me what to do? You think that you deserve her, that you’re family because of it?” Ellie asked. Joel’s face dropped more than it already was. He stared at her, not knowing what to say. How’d she figure it out? He had so many questions. Ellie smirked but it was a bitter one, she caught him off guard. “What?” He croaked out and she laughed.

“Yeah I know that you and my sister are sneaking around behind my back. That’s why I’ve been distant with you guys! I can’t believe you guys would do this! Why she would do this, why she would do you. You are an old man, Joel. She’s young and beautiful, naive it seems. It sickens me that she’s with you of all people! And the best part is you guys have rings so it’s obviously more than sex.” Ellie yelled, Joel stared at her. His eyes gave everything away, he was hurt by her words.

“Got nothing to say? No lies? No ‘you don’t know what you’re talking about?” She asked him and he shook his head. “I love her, Ellie.” She shook her head, “You wouldn’t even bat an eye at her in the real world.” Ellie said. “I get that you’re protective over her-” “No, don’t start that! She went behind my back too, you both did! I just hope she realizes that she can do better.” Ellie growled before leaving. Joel looked down, he was hurt by her words. What had he done to Ellie to make her think those things about him? How was he going to tell Y/N?

[graysnetwork]

I’ve been posting a lot saying stay ff abt writing, (and honestly the Keegan brothers bsf thingy is still a wip) but I just had some thoughts about Keegan.

TATTOOS? — KEEGAN RUSS x FEM!READER

Warnings: a lot of kissing, pet/nick names(princess, keegs), reader is said to be a girl, and this is not at all proofread or even checked for grammar corrections.

Summary: while Keegan’s tired self is asleep and your bored you can’t help but give him some tattoos.

—

Keegan had been on leave for a while now, which he deserved, you two had been making the most of him being back for now. You’d get bored from time to time since he was gone a lot, and it was really boring without your man. And you couldn’t exactly get a dog.

So you cooked a lot in your free time, drew, colored, watched almost everything on earth. So you had a lot of hobies now, and now that Keegan was back it’s less boring, having him be around and doing things like actually having a conversation with someone other than family on the phone made you so happy.

But Keegan’s a hard working man, he does so many things, on and off the field that he gets tired (at this point your surprised he hasn’t gotten gray hairs)

It’s really surprising

But due to all the work he does, he’s really tired, and already so sleep deprived, so he sleeps a lot. Even a tired Keegan walks through the door ready to have you ass up, but you know now that he’s a different type of tired when all he wants to do is sleep.

“Keegs?” You whispered, unsure if he was asleep or not, a groan was his response so you laid there next to him as he slept, it was barely 7 pm and he’d been outside working on your car, but he looked like a old man having his bedtime at 7.

The whole bed moved as he laid back, having his bare torso showing. Now, Keegan doesn’t have tattoos and he’s never had a thought of getting one, but the small thought in your brain of him actually having one, makes your mind go hazy.

Either way it didn’t matter, he was hot with or without it, and even more adorable when he was sleeping peacefully. But a girl can dream, right?

With that dream in your mind, and a pen on the nightstand next to you, you began drawing designs on your boyfriends stomach, you now hated his abs for how hard it was to draw on them. But that was besides the point.

You drew a couple of things, your name in a interesting looking “font” and drew a small airplane on the side of his stomach as to not make anything to big, or fuck the drawing up. Eventually you began working on a flower, a nice simple lily, it was simple but it looked very “professional” and detailed. Thanks to the tutorial you’d watched a while back.

You began connecting it with another flower with more leaves till there were four flowers in total drawn on him, he hadn’t even moved the whole time. Maybe he’d woken up and just didn’t want to say anything? Nope, he was sound asleep as you checked his face.

As the hour passed by your started getting sleep too. You laid there watching him before finally falling asleep along with Keegan. One of the most peaceful sleeps you’d had. (since every night without having Keegan wasn’t amazing)

What only felt like a quick second was actually hours and you woke up to the sun rising again, Keegan was still sound asleep when you opened your eyes, the sight was weird almost, he always woke up very early and ended up in the kitchen drinking coffee as he couldn’t sleep again even if he was still tired.

You glanced at the drawing on his stomach which had t looked like it faded at all so you assumed he wasn’t tossing and turning at night.

You were still tired and managed to fall back asleep for a while before waking up to movement. You opened your eyes when you felt Keegan’s arm move, he groaned a bit and rubbed his eyes.

“Morning keegs”you said, moving a little to remove your head from his chest, he frowned a bit at that and finally looked at you “g’morning princess” he said, he hadn’t noticed his new drawings yet.

You leaned up a little and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, he seemed unhappy with that and leaned into you for another kiss before pulling away.

“What time did I fall asleep yesterday?” He asked, the rasp in his voice becoming more apparent now. “7, 7:30” you said and sat up, he hummed and it didn’t sound happy, but not mad either,“it seems like your boyfriend has a curfew” he said jokingly as he mentions the other nights he feel asleep in the afternoon.

You let out a chuckle before saying “yeah, I’m dating an old man” and now he was the one laughing, he had such a sweet and cute laugh.

“Well princess” he sat up and placed his forehead on yours “your old man gonna need someone to help in the shower than, right?” He said and gave you another kiss.

When he finally got up passing the mirror he finally took notice to the ink on his abs. He stared at himself for a while before he turned back to you as you seemed to be staring at him as well, “what?” You smiled “I like your new tattoos” you said and got up off the bed. He smiled at that, turning his attention back to the mirror.

“They’re not terrible” he said “very, nice” he finished as his hand grazed his stomach. “I like this a lot” he pointed at the one with your name, “love it” he corrected himself.

It made you giggle as he placed his hands on your hips to lean in and kiss you again. He pulled away only inches apart from you “This is what you do when I’m asleep?” He asked going back to continue the kiss, you nodded into the kiss.

[lemoncrushh]

Seven Six Five - Part One

Summary: They met once seven years ago. Now music has made them cross paths again.

Warnings: smut, body image issues, angst. 18+ ONLY!

A/N: Enemies to Lovers. This was originally written and posted in 2020, right before the pandemic, so the story takes place then with flashbacks of 2013. Harry Styles x Plus Size OC, written in third person.

Part One Word Count: 3.9k+

STORY PAGE

20 February, 2020 - New York, NY, USA

Dancing freely in her bathroom while a classic Dusty Springfield vinyl played on the turntable in the other room, Bronwyn grabbed her toothbrush, momentarily pretending it was a microphone. Just as she spread a healthy strip of paste on the brush and she popped it into her mouth, she heard the all too familiar ringtone chime from her phone, drowned out by Dusty’s confession of only wanting to be with you.

Bronwyn danced over to her bed to see who was calling, grateful she was able to work from home and make her own schedule. Seeing a familiar number, she knew the caller would leave a message, or perhaps a text, so she resumed her morning routine and spit out her toothpaste.

It wasn’t until she’d slipped into a pair of leggings and one of her favorite oversized tees, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, the needle safely removed from the vinyl, that she decided to check her phone for messages. As suspected, the caller had left a voicemail.

“Bronwyn, darling, it’s Antonella. Forgive me for being a little last minute on this, but I have a prospective job for you,” sang the familiar voice, her Italian accent flourishing both of their names. “Actually, I think you’ll be perfect for it, so don’t say no. It’s in D.C., and it’s for NPR Music. I’ll email you the details. Ciao.”

Her jaw dropped, Bronwyn nearly jumped for joy. NPR Music. That had to be the Tiny Desk concert series. One of her favourite things to do on free nights, or when her mind just wasn’t on her work, was to check out the newest video on NPR’s website. She’d discovered so many new artists just from that series, and a couple of them she’d managed to photograph and review at later concerts. She was thrilled with the prospect of being able to see one of the Tiny Desk shows in person and wondered who the artist might be.

Tapping on the email icon on her phone, she eagerly waited for the newest emails to load, the top one being from Antonella. Hastily opening it, she beamed as she read the mundane details of the job, the address, the date and time...until she saw the name.

ARTIST: HARRY STYLES

Instantly frowning, she dropped her shoulders and released a sigh.

“Bloody hell,” she muttered to herself. “Anyone but him.”

Staring at the screen, her vision blurred until she blinked and shook her head.

“No,” she said aloud. “No, I can’t do it.”

Quickly finding Antonella’s number, Bronwyn tapped the phone to ring her, biting her lip as the call went straight to voicemail.

“‘Ello, Antonella, it’s Bronwyn. Listen, I got your message and your email. Unfortunately...I don’t think I’ll be able to take this job. It’s just...not for me. Conflict of interest or what have you. Hopefully you’ll be able to find someone else in a pinch. Sorry, love.”

Disconnecting the call, Bronwyn fell back on her bed, her head hitting the pile of pillows. Shutting her eyes tight, she willed her mind to push away the memory of him. Though it had been nearly seven years since that night, it sometimes felt like yesterday. She had tried her best to forget it had ever happened, that they had ever crossed paths. She supposed if it had been anyone else, she could have gotten over it like she had any other time she’d been disappointed or heart-broken, humiliated or angry. But because he was...him...he managed to pop up now and then, when she’d least expected it, and most unfortunately when she hadn’t wanted him to.

She had a great life now. London was not only across the ocean, but years behind her. She’d struggled a bit when she’d first moved to New York, but after getting her foot in the door and finally making a name for herself, she’d settled into a routine and lifestyle that she’d always dreamt of. Harry bloody Styles was most certainly not a part of it.

Rising from the bed, Bronwyn made her way to her tiny kitchen to pour herself a cup of tea. She’d just sat down at the small table in the corner, her cup in one hand, a steaming danish in the other when her phone chimed its agitating tune once again. Frowning when she saw Antonella’s name displayed on the screen, she let the danish fall onto her plate and wiped her hands on the napkin.

“This is Bronwyn,” she sang into the speaker, hoping she didn’t sound too fake.

“Darling, what do you mean you can’t take this job?” the Italian woman’s voice boomed. “I arranged this for you ‘specially! Everybody else is booked or out of town that day. I have no one else.”

“I’m sorry, Antonella, I just-”

“Conflict of interest, ppfff!” she interrupted. “I won’t hear of it. It’s a job, my love, not a blind date. You just take photographs and submit your review the way you’ve always done.”

Bronwyn sighed, feeling defeated. She knew Antonella was right...to a degree. And she wasn’t about to spill her guts about her history - or lack thereof - with a certain ex-boybander to her agent.

“I’m not going to beg, Bronwyn,” remarked Antonella. “It’s your career. But I try to get you jobs I think suit you and your personality. Jobs that you’d be proud to stamp your name on. I think you’d be perfect for this, but… I guess I can call Dennis.”

“Dennis listens to 90s college rock and complains about millennials and Starbucks.”

“He’s all I’ve got left.”

“Fine,” Bronwyn surrendered. “I’ll do it.”

“You’re an angel, doll, you know that?” cheered Antonella.

“Yeah, yeah. Just let me know when I’ve earned my wings.”

25 February, 2020 - Washington, D.C., USA

“Thank you,” Bronwyn smiled at the young woman with the bright pink lipstick - Katia, she thought her name was - when she handed her a small bottle of water.

“No problem! Let me know if I can get you anything else.” Katia bounced on her heels and returned her attention elsewhere before Bronwyn had the chance to make another request.

As the room began to fill with more people, she felt herself get a bit stuffy, so she removed her grey cardigan, shoving it into one of her bags before checking her camera one last time.

“Oh cool, I get to stand by the photographer!” she heard someone exclaim, and she looked up to see a thin, toothy girl with ombre hair.

Bronwyn copied her grin, flipping her curls off her shoulders just as Katia returned with an announcement, explaining what was about to happen. The girl next to her squeezed her friend’s hand and squealed when Katia mentioned Harry’s name. Trying her best not to gag or roll her eyes, Bronwyn stood straight, clearing her throat and lifting her camera to prepare for the singer’s arrival.

It’s just a job, she told herself, remembering Antonella’s words. I can do this.

Three seconds later, Katia was gone and a huge raucous sounded down the hall. Almost immediately, a tall, thin man with his hair pulled back came into view, followed by an equally slender woman in a red t-shirt. Bronwyn watched as they headed for the L shaped desk, the man picking up a guitar that sat behind it, the woman taking a seat behind the drums that were set up in the corner. Soon, two more women followed - one grabbing an acoustic guitar, the other taking her place in front of the keyboard - and another tall man who slung a bass guitar over his shoulder. Taking several quick shots of the band members, Bronwyn almost missed his entrance until he was literally stood in front of her. Through the lense of her camera, she saw him wave at the small crowd before walking around the desk to a stool that awaited him. It was only then that she noticed his ridiculous blue jumper, a hatched chicken adorning the front of it with the french words Mon Petit.

Bronwyn felt herself snort before she could stop it. “Oh my God, you’ve got to be joking!”

But when she turned her head in search of someone in agreement, she was only met with ombre girl whose grin was toothier than ever.

“He looks amazing!” she cried, her hand clenched to her chest.

“Right, then,” Bronwyn nodded, resuming her task at hand.

Taking a few more photos, she watched as Harry and the band got situated, and he began an introduction to the first song, a tune called “Cherry” which Bronwyn found to be a surprising choice.

She’d spent most of the weekend listening to Harry’s new album, Fine Line. While she’d struggled to even get started, putting it off until well after midnight on Saturday morning during the middle of a bottle of wine, she’d decided she needed to familiarise herself with at least some of his music if she was going to write any sort of review. Having given the album one listen through, she admitted to herself that it was pretty good. By four in the morning and a few more listens, she’d admitted it was pretty fucking brilliant.

But she still hated him.

Personal feelings aside, Bronwyn had packed up her camera and drove to D.C. that morning. Even she knew that when it came to the entertainment industry, you couldn’t take things personally. She had to try her best to separate her disdain for Harry Styles from the music he made.

Throughout Harry’s short set, Bronwyn continued to snap photos, glad to focus on the other band members whenever she felt a little flutter in her chest or pang in her heart. She especially felt one when Harry would speak between the songs, because hearing him talk only reminded her of that night seven years ago. She detected a slightly deeper timbre to his voice, but it was his voice just the same. And it made her cringe. Not because she didn’t like it...but because she did.

Please stop fucking talking, she thought. Why d’you gotta be so bloody charming? Just shut up already.

By the last song, Harry made a joke which sent the room into a roar of laughter. Bronwyn groaned, hoping this whole entire soiree would be over soon and she could go home. Just when she was about to lift her camera once again, however, the horrible inevitable happened. Before she could even blink, their eyes locked. Frozen in her spot, she willed herself to look down at her camera and bring it back up to do her job. She rolled her eyes at herself this time after she cleared her throat, as if that was going to do anything for the color that she felt rising up her neck and to her cheeks. And as though that wasn’t horrifying enough, when she went to snap the photo, she caught the dimpled grin on his face. He was fucking smiling at her.

What an arsehole!

As her stomach twisted into the tightest of knots, and she felt the sudden instinct to take a seat before she collapsed in front of a room full of strangers, she heard another squeal next to her.

“Omigod, did you see that? Was he smiling at us?” exclaimed ombre girl to her friend.

Yes, thought Bronwyn. Yes, please be smiling at them!

“Ughhhh he’s soooo hotttt!” screeched ombre’s friend as she leant into her mate’s shoulder, as though she was the one about to faint.

Yes, it was for fans, Bronwyn told herself. He didn’t recognise me. It was for them.

Much to her relief, the song finished and Harry’s set was over. He rose from his little stool and waved to everyone with a big thank you. Bronwyn watched as the band filed out of the room, and within minutes, Katia made her reappearance.

“Thank you so much for being here,” she cheered, clapping her hands together. “I hope you had a good time. Now if you’ll kindly start exiting slowly to the left. Be sure you’ve taken all of your belongings.”

Bronwyn listened to the chatter from the audience as they began to leave. Preparing her camera bag, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Are your photos gonna be online?” asked ombre girl.

Bronwyn couldn’t help but smile. “Yes. Should be sometime tomorrow morning.”

“Awesome! I follow all social media having to do with Harry, so I’m sure I’ll see them!”

“Alright then,” said Bronwyn, slipping her arms back into her grey cardigan. “Take care.”

It felt like an eternity when Bronwyn finally had her things together and packed up properly. Turning for the exit, she nearly bumped into Katia whose pink lips were stretched into a wide smile.

“Thank you so much for everything!” she said. “My boss told me it was a last minute thing to get you here, and we appreciate it!”

“Oh, no worries,” Bronwyn gave a tight smile. “Please let me know if you ever need me for another show. This was...fun.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Katia agreed gleefully, missing Bronwyn’s hesitation. “Harry’s such a doll. We’ve wanted him here for ages!”

Bronwyn nodded, side-swiping the comment about Harry. “I just really love this concept. I’ve watched every video on your website.”

Katia tilted her head to the side. “Aw, well that’s good to hear. We’re so glad there’s an audience for us.”

Bronwyn continued to give her best fake smile as she slung her bag onto her shoulder.

“Well, I should be going. Thanks again.”

“Oh yes, thank you! Be sure to give your badge to Laura on your way out.”

With another nod, Bronwyn finally made her way to the lift, already taking mental notes of what she planned to say in the article. If not for being focused on that, she might have seen him when the lift doors opened. Instead, she walked straight toward the desk where she’d remembered picking up her badge. The brunette that she recognised from that morning gave her a smile and a thank you as she accepted the lanyard before quickly shifting her eyes to the left. Following the young woman’s gaze, Bronwyn nearly gasped when she saw Harry and another man walking in her direction. Hesitating for only a moment, she swiftly turned for the doors, hoping he didn’t see her.

“Oh, Miss!” cried Laura. “You forgot to sign out!”

“Shit!” Bronwyn cursed under her breath.

Quickly, she took a few steps back and grabbed a pen from the little plastic holder on the desk. She’d just finished signing her name on the line and dropped the pen in the cubby when she heard her name again.

“Bronwyn.”

Lifting her head, she was met with the hideous blue jumper and a lopsided grin.

“Harry.”

“I thought it was you,” he said, grinning wider. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah…” Bronwyn sighed, combing her fingers through her hair. Not long enough, she thought to herself. “Yeah, it has.”

“How’ve you been?”

“Oh you know...I’ve been alright.”

“Still a music photographer, I see,” Harry commented, gesturing at her bag. “Do you work for NPR?”

“No, I’m freelance.” Bronwyn noticed her answers were short and sweet. She only hoped Harry noticed as well.

“Wonderful!” Harry praised. “So you live in the states now?”

Bronwyn nodded. “New York, actually.”

“Wow, good for you, Bronwyn.”

Looking away towards the front doors, she half rolled her eyes, tugging the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

“I’m surprised you remembered my name,” Bronwyn remarked.

She couldn’t help but catch the tiny smirk and the bashful look on his face.

“Yeah, well...I don’t usually make it a point to remember the names of women who turn me down, but...”

Bronwyn scoffed incredulously. “Turn you down?”

Was he making a joke? If so, Bronwyn found it to be in poor taste. So much so, that she tasted the bitterness on her tongue. Oblivious however, Harry shrugged, his smirk spreading, which only fueled the resentment that Bronwyn was holding in. She thought it was very smug.

“I reckon you made an impression on me,” remarked Harry. Then he leant forward, his hand on his chest. “Even though you broke my heart.”

Bronwyn narrowed her eyes, shocked at his nerve. “You’re unbelievable.”

Staring at him, Bronwyn could tell he hadn’t realised she was serious at first, and that she was not describing him in a positive light. Ever so slightly, Harry’s grin began to falter, as though Bronwyn herself had stuck a pin in his dimple, and all the air oozed out, causing him to frown. Just as his mouth opened to speak, however, the man she’d seen him walking with earlier interrupted their conversation with a hand on his arm.

“H, we need you over here a minute,” he said, barely acknowledging Bronwyn.

“Sorry,” Harry apologised, looking her in the eye. “I’ll be right back.”

Bronwyn watched as Harry and the other bloke turned their backs, their voices hushed. Dropping her shoulders in a sigh, she took it as a free out and headed for the doors once again. A stealthy exit, however, was not to be. As soon as her hand reached the push bar, she heard him calling for her.

“Where are you going?” he asked, catching up with her.

“Have to get home,” she replied curtly with a raised brow. “Write this review.”

“You’re not staying in D.C.?”

“‘Fraid not.”

“Oh.”

For a moment, Bronwyn could detect the disappointment in his tone and on his face. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“I was hoping we could go for… drinks or coffee… y’know, catch up.”

Gripping the strap of her bag so tightly, she was certain it was cutting off the circulation in her fingers, she shook her head, determined not to let her guard down.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Harry.”

A sound came from behind him, and they both looked to see a small group of people gesturing for him, his band included.

“We’re ready for you, H,” one of them called.

Harry slowly turned his head back to Bronwyn, a defeated expression on his face. Bronwyn pursed her lips, nodding toward the group.

“Looks like you have plenty to do anyway,” she said.

Without another word, she pushed the door open with her elbow, backing out of the building. Before turning down the sidewalk, she let the door close, leaving Harry Styles staring at her in bewilderment.

20 August, 2013 - London, England, UK

Bronwyn was grateful to finally be rid of her camera for the evening. Having found a place to lock it away, she headed for the large room where the after party was being held. She’d barely crossed the threshold before a waiter greeted her with a tray of champagne glasses. Graciously accepting one, she took a large sip. As soon as the liquor coated her throat, she threw her head back with a sigh.

This wasn’t the first job she’d taken for a red carpet event. But it was definitely the loudest. A veteran of not only the boy band phenomena, but that of rock and pop bands in general, she was certainly not new to the extremities of fandom. But Jesus Christ… as much as she loathed the comparison, she couldn’t help but imagine this was similar to what Beatlemania had been.

Admittedly, she didn’t know that much about One Direction. She’d heard a few songs, and she considered them decent, catchy at best. She’d learnt a bit more about them tonight from watching their film, and she could safely say they were quite alright. They were young, silly boys with loads of fans...half of whom must have been at the premiere if the ringing in her ears was any indication.

Bronwyn perused the room for a bit, recognising several faces from the red carpet earlier. Feeling her stomach rumble, she made her way around the perimeter toward the large buffet. She hadn’t quite reached it, however, when another waiter came by with more champagne. With a smile, Bronwyn handed him her now empty glass and accepted a new one. She’d just brought it to her lips when her gaze was met with another set of eyes and a smirk.

“Ah, so she does have a face. Thought maybe it was just a camera for a head.”

“Sorry?” she asked, slowly lowering her glass.

“You’re a photographer, right?”

Bronwyn smiled slyly. “Yes. Among other things.”

The smirk on his face slowly turned into a wide grin.

“I saw you out front,” he said, stepping closer. “At the red carpet.”

Bronwyn raised her brows in question. “How could you? There were loads of us.”

“Your outfit,” he said, pointing at her dress and boots. “I reckon you were the only one wearing anything close to that.”

Bronwyn looked down at the clothes she’d picked out for the night. She wore a vintage inspired floral dress that stopped mid-thigh and brown, knee-length, platform boots.

“Hmm, I suppose I am original,” she commented.

“I like original,” he said, lifting his own glass to his lips, one that certainly contained something other than champagne.

Bronwyn gave her own smirk then, feeling a blush on her cheeks just as a familiar song began to play, one of her favourites from the 70s.

“Finally, some good tunes!” she exclaimed at the ceiling before glancing back at the tall boy. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he said with a low chuckle.

Bronwyn could feel his eyes on her as she began to sing along and sway to the music.

“You like old stuff?” she heard him ask.

Twirling around to face him, she beamed. “I like anything that’s good.”

“Me too. What’s your name?”

“Bronwyn.”

“That’s pretty. ‘s that Welsh?”

Bronwyn stopped dancing, a tiny bit surprised he knew that. “Yeah. It is.”

“Do you speak Welsh?”

Bronwyn shook her head with a pout. “‘Fraid Not. Lived in London all my life. My dad’s mum is Welsh though, and she chose my name.”

“I see.”

“I came so close to being called Rhiannon,” Bronwyn continued, her hips threatening to sway as she held onto her champagne glass with both hands. “Can you imagine? I could’ve been a Stevie Nicks song!”

Throwing his head back, the tall boy let out a loud chuckle. The sound did something to Bronwyn, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. She just knew she liked it.

“That would have been great, I’ll admit,” he expressed. “I love Stevie.”

“You do?”

At his nod, Bronwyn stared at him for a moment, a smile slowly spreading across her face as she took him in. She remembered taking his photo several times, as well as the other band members, and she definitely had to admit he looked very dashing.

“Which one are you again?” she inquired, her long curls falling over her shoulder as she tilted her head. “I mean, I did watch the movie, I just get mixed up sometimes.”

“I’m Harry.”

“Oh yes, Harry Styles,” Bronwyn confirmed, pointing her finger before placing the tip on her lips. “The youngest lad of the group. The one who worked in a bakery.”

Harry giggled again, making Bronwyn aware of the flutter in her chest.

“That would be me,” he said.

Bronwyn stepped even closer, erasing the majority of space between them. “The cute one.”

Harry raised his brows as Bronwyn smiled up at him.

“And the one with good music taste,” she added.

Harry’s dimples dipped deeper in his cheeks as he grinned wider. Pleased with the encounter so far, Bronwyn extended her hand for a shake.

“Nice to meet you, Harry.”

Hope you enjoyed so far! Please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[the-bjd-community-confess]

I finally am venting about something that happened to me.

A few years ago I finally shelled a particular doll of my beloved OC. She’s been important to me since I was younger and making a doll of her was one of the reasons I got into this hobby. I actually have a couple of different dolls of this character at different ages/from different ‘universes’ but this particular one I’m talking about is a specific version of her I like a lot. Anyway, to bring her to life I got her a faceup from a good friend of mine and that added to how special the doll was to me.

But then, earlier this year, out of seemingly nowhere, this friendship ended badly. I don’t want to talk about how or why but I was hurt a lot. When I described the situation to other friends, many of them told me that the friendship sounded abusive to them, and I started to realise they were right. I had just been too much of a doormat to stand up for myself when they played mind games with me and manipulated me. I won’t deny there were a lot of fun memories and I genuinely cared deeply for this person but looking back at certain things in a new light really made me realize the friendship was overall not good, which is why it ended the way it did, making it maybe less out of nowhere than it felt at the time.

Since then, I don’t know what to do with this doll. It’s not one I can easily rebuy and I still really do like the faceup. She was literally one of my favorites, but looking at her now just hurts. Right now she is in a box where I can’t see her. I can’t decide if I should keep her there until I’ve moved on from the hurt and can enjoy her again or if I need to remove the faceup in order to properly move on. Has anyone had a similar situation? It makes me sad that a character that means so much to me will forever remind me of a person that hurt me. But man. Her faceup is just so nice, and while it reminds me of hurt, reminds me of the times that person was kind to me as well.

~Anonymous

[canonfatbisexualenby]

Word Count: 2k+

Rating: T (13+)

A/N: Takes place after S3E4 and before S3E5!!

Sara looked into the office’s bathroom mirror and adjusted her headband. She sighed, lightly, brushing off her skirt. Today had been a full one.

With Michael learning about the death of his former boss, she had been on Scott Emotional Duty with full force . She loved her uncle, but sometimes he could be quite the handful. But she knew the same could be said about her.

Of course, she was as professional as possible when on the clock. Not speaking unless spoken to, trying not to get involved in office politics, minding her business every second she could. But outside of work she felt like she was completely different.

Saying too much, saying not enough, overreacting, under reacting. She felt like a total mess, if she was being honest with herself.

She sighed quietly and exited the bathroom.

Quickly, she looked over at reception, knowing she had a small window to ask what she wanted to. Pam was locked into her computer currently, probably trying to catch up with the faxes she had promised to send for Stanley. Sara mildly chewed at her bottom lip, nervous.

She had recently been noticing changes in herself, at least regarding the inner mechanics of her work life. She was now excited. She was eager to get there early, she’d been having casual conversations more with coworkers, she was actually enjoying her days there. And she knew what it was but feared to admit it.

When she first started it was just a way to make money. But then she met her. Pam Beesly.

She knew it was foolish and silly, since she when she first met her she was engaged. It was never gonna happen, and she certainly wasn’t going to try to break a years long relationship for a woman she figured was straight. But Pam was just, so kind. Nice, considerate, funny. And today had especially proved that. Michael had consistently made Pam uncomfortable and crossed the line, but despite all that, she did something super sweet for him. And it did give her a slight boost of confidence she didn’t have to worry about Roy saying no to Pam going out anymore.

Sara walked up to the reception desk and placed her hands on the counter.

“Hi.” she said quietly. Pam looked up from her screen and smiled. “Hey.”

“I know this may be kind of sudden, and it’s totally cool if you can’t, but I was just wondering if you’d like to go out for a drink or something tonight?”

Pam seemed to ponder the question, her eyes looking up for a few seconds. She paused briefly before replying “Sure, why not? After today I could use a couple of beers, honestly.”

Sara felt her face almost flush at Pam answering so quickly. She prayed it barely showed and smiled back.

“Poor Richard’s?” Sara asked. Pam nodded and gave her a thumbs up.

They both managed to arrive around 5:30-ish, due to traffic. Sara got inside before Pam, grabbing them a couple of seats at the bar.

She sat down and placed her handbag on the stool next to her, saving Pam’s spot. She peered up and caught her reflection in the bar’s mirrored back wall.

Sara sighed, adjusting her headband and glasses. She felt nervous about being around Pam outside of work. What if she said something dumb? What is she somehow embarrassed herself? What if Pam had a bad time and decided just to remain work acquaintances at best? It pained her to admit it, but in and outside of work Sara didn’t have many friends.

Before she could really get into thinking more about it she saw Pam walk in. She waved her over and smiled.

Pam sat down and removed her coat. “You sure you wanna sit up here?” she asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Sara chuckled nervously. “I’m weird about sitting with my back completely to the door and the bar’s a good compromise for a table or booth.” she answered.

Pam nodded and smiled sweetly in response. “Also maybe we’ll get our beers in a timely manner.” She quipped. Sara smiled back, giggling.

About half a beer into the evening, Pam turned to Sara.

“You know, and, I mean this in the nicest way possible, you’re super quiet.” Pam pondered while taking a sip “Even more so than Toby, and I get about three sentences tops from him on a daily basis.”

Sara nodded politely, considering her answer for a second. “Well, I’m just sort of shy I suppose. I get nervous in crowds sometimes, even if I know everybody.” She sipped from her bottle and tried desperately not to peel at the label. “And I mostly just try to keep to myself. No use in the risk of mixing work with pleasure, you know? I think that usually ends with people getting hurt.” She took another sip and looked over at Pam.

She smirked and nodded, replying “Well what would you call what we’re doing right now?” and took a quick sip from her own bottle, eyebrows raised playfully.

Sara felt her face flush slightly. She figured the bar was dim enough to hide any trace of blush on her cheeks. She pushed up her glasses, looking away briefly.

“Well, I’d call this a ‘thank you for putting up with my Uncle Mike’ celebratory drink. A drink in honor of the bird, if you will.”

“I see.” the other woman retorted and chuckled.

Pam took a moment to check her lipstick in her compact mirror. As she did, Sara took an opportunistic glance at her.

It was something she did often, but felt embarrassed doing nonetheless. It used to feel wrong to do because Pam was engaged and now just felt silly because Sara knew it wouldn’t lead to anything. That’s what she told herself whenever her stomach dropped taking in Pam’s beautiful bright green eyes. The ones she begged to look at her all day, foolishly.

Sara cleared her throat slightly and turned away, looking down at her shoes.

Towards the end of the night, Sara gathered the courage to tell Pam what she’d wanted to all day.

“Hey, Pam.” She said, feeling her stomach turn. She looked at Sara, seemingly curious. “Mm-hm.”

“I know...” Sara started, trailing off as she tried to keep her nerve. Her heart was beating a mile a minute and she just barely had enough beer in her for some ‘liquid courage’. She bit her lip and gulped “This might be silly, but I really wanted to thank you for what you did for Michael today.” she finally got out the words, albeit a little mumbled and fast.

“Oh, the whole funeral thing?” She chuckled and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear “It’s no big deal.” she shrugged in an exaggerated manner “I try to help out when and where I can and, hey, at least we got a small break from all the chaos of the morning.” Sara nodded.

“Well, maybe to you it’s not a big deal but it really meant a lot to me that you went through any kind of trouble to help my Uncle Mike feel better. I know he’s not always been the best to you and, all that considered, it was a really kind thing you did.”

Pam grinned widely, her eyes glinting slightly in the low light as they creased. “And-“ Sara pursed her lips for a moment “I know we’re just barely friends or whatever, but I’d really regret it if I never let you know you’re one of the kindest co-workers in the building. And that I think the office would be a lot less tolerable if you weren’t there.”

Sara looked at the bar, worried she had socially misstepped and overshared because of the alcohol in her system as what she had just said repeated in her head.

“That’s really sweet of you, thanks.” Pam replied. “And hey,” she continued, placing her hand on Sara’s shoulder lightly ���You’re a really good co-worker too. Definitely one of the coolest girls in the office.”

Sara looked up at Pam, scrambling to find the right words to say back. Her cheeks felt like they’d burn up into the atmosphere and she suddenly noticed how dry her mouth was.

“Thank you.” she replied simply, deciding not to overthink it. Pam gave her shoulder a small squeeze before letting go and turning to wave the bartender over.

Sara followed Pam along to her car at the end of the night, making sure she was safe before the ride home.

“Well...” she pushed up her glasses, placing her hand against Pam’s car gingerly “Please drive home carefully in this thing.” Pam giggled “Oh, I’ll try my best.” she stepped forward slowly and Sara suddenly felt Pam hug her, a tad awkwardly at first, before Sara could adjust her position so they’d intertwine properly. Pam’s cheeks felt warm against the cool night breeze and the air filled with the smell of her perfume and soap. Sara quickly pulled back, happy but overwhelmed by her touch. She didn’t completely let go, but pulled back enough they were now facing each other, their faces only inches apart.

The wind whipped around again as Pam closed her eyes, laughing and smiling widely, her golden brown hair moving wildly around her face. Sara felt her heart flutter and beat at this small moment in time, feeling the touch of Pam’s hands on her upper back and arm.

Before she could stop and analyze her next move, Sara felt her own arm raise up. Pam’s eyes opened as Sara tucked a small lock of hair behind her ear, giving a small smile back.

Pam parted her lips, as if to speak, but just paused and said nothing. Sara felt her breath against her own, their faces so close. She tried not to as best as she could, but to no avail, looked down at Pam’s parted mouth.

Pam leaned forward and kissed her. Sara felt all the worries of the day melt away, her shoulders and arms relaxing as she leaned into the kiss.

She inhaled deeply as Pam moved her lips and suddenly pulled back, cursing at herself for letting her guard down this much. As much as she enjoyed the kiss, it was against her ‘code’ to get this close to a co-worker. Literally and metaphorically.

“Pam...” Sara exhaled, catching her breath in the cool evening air “Don’t...” she stepped back, Pam’s arms falling as she looked on, confused “Don’t do something you’ll regret with me.” She stared at the gravel beneath her feet and chewed at her bottom lip.

“What do you mean?” she asked, flustered.

“I...I’m not trying to be presumptuous but I figure it’s been pretty tough since your breakup with Roy, and-“ Sara looked up, Pam staring back with widened eyes “And perhaps you’re just feeling lonely. I promise I’m not trying to be cruel, I just don’t think this is the best idea considering we work together.”

Pam took a couple of steps back and nodded. Her face flushed from the previous kiss and her lips turned down into a slight grimace.

“Yea, maybe you’re right. We’ve both been drinking a little and I’m in a big transitional period in my life and we’re co-workers...” she fixed the smudges of lipstick around her mouth as she trailed off.

“It’s nothing personal I promise.” Sara said, fumbling with a loose button on her coat. “There’s just...some things I don’t do with the people I work with” she sighed. Her stomach felt tight with regret.

“Please get home safe, okay?” she muttered quickly, looking down again to avoid Pam’s gaze. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” she glanced at Pam briefly and walked towards her own car.

Sara turned the key and sighed deeply. Her heart was beating rapidly and her hands trembled slightly.

She pushed the power button to the radio and tried to distract herself with whatever garbage was on the top 40 stations.

Work would definitely be more interesting in the near future.

Taglist (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!): @deadlock @gideongrovel

[babyppsthoughs]

Lacey Cat (2024) #4

Finally here comes the pic with by belly showing :P

I took some pics for the now useless verification first, then a couple dozens more in some rather usual poses. I didn’t really have many new ideas, and the outfit didn’t seem especially exciting anyway. I wanted to showcase the text on the back of the shorts, but taking pics when facing away from the cam was still challenging as ever.

Then it came to the video. I wanted to put in some cat-like movements at first, but I also felt I’m a bit too old to act overly cutesy or innocent, so I kinda dropped the act pretty quickly and just tried to be sensual and sexy.

With the windows closed, I felt myself getting warm before long, so I started stripping away the garments one after another. I didn’t want to get too much sweat on the bed sheet, so I had to place a towel under my body despite it not matching the theme. I guess I’ll have to buy a pink or cream towel some day.

The insertion in various poses went pretty well, but unwilling to bring in another off-theme tool to the scene, I didn’t use my usual acrylic board to keep the dildo in place for easy mounting. I had enough trouble getting a good angle to shoot in cowgirl positions to begin with, now needing to use one hand to keep hold of the dildo just made it way too physically taxing. So I think I’ve only shot a few minutes of those.

It was about 2AM and I started to hear my stomach making noises from time to time, so I figured I should finish things up before I was too exhausted. I knew that I wouldn’t  reach a climax from anal alone any time soon, so I just started to rub my soft nub down below.

Oh I’ve forgotten to mention that I’ve tied a wire around the base of it. I thought of using ribbons but I only had red and black ones. I had pink and orange wires (those for art and craft, with some soft fiber wrapped around) though. As a bit of decoration and a bit of a chastity device I suppose. Looking back, it created unsightly folds around my sac at times and I couldn’t notice them during the shooting. The same old “I can’t see all the small details from the small phone screen when I’m busy stuffing my butt” problem.

Anyway, I finished in the comfy position lying on my back, hoping to give viewers a bit of a POV experience. I’ve only noticed that I came quite a bit more than I felt when I watched the video afterwards. And it seemed at least a bit of cum landed on the dildo and got pushed into my butt like lube. Hope some people would find it hot and not weird or gross. At least none of the cum landed on my sac like last time, which I found ugly.

I’ve now reviewed the recordings, can’t say I’m totally happy with the result. There’s just not much new in it so it may be a bit dull. And I’ve only realized after the session that, after removing the top and the shorts, the lingerie was actually almost identical to the one I used in a previous video. It’s true that I don’t have too many options now, but still I would like to not repeat myself if possible.

A bit more to say next time and that'll be the final entry for this set.

Continue to Part 5:

[luchicm04]

Tìyawn Alìm

Masterlist

Summary: Jake takes Tonowari to ride an Ikran and learn from each other’s culture, but it ends up in🔞🤭

Pairing: Jake Sully/Tonowari

Word count: +1k

Overall warnings: sexual content, mature language, fluff, light dom/sub, teasing, begging⚠️🔞

All characters belong to Avatar, and all rights are reserved to the original work whose author allowed me to translate it.

A/N: This fic didn't really have a name so I had to come up with something. Hope you like it <3

posted on ao3

“Jake, is this the place?” The large body of the reef Na’vi looked at the floating mountain in fear. It was so tall that he was worried he would be meeting his end from a bad step. 

“This is Ayram alusìng. Let’s go get your Ikran,” Jake said with a smile before starting to climb. 

“Ah, Jake, I can’t do it. My body...” 

“Right, sorry. Wait here.” Jake jumped out of the thick vines before calling his beloved Ikran with a beautiful sound. 

Jake didn’t hesitate and quickly made tsaheylu and jumped on his Ikran. 

“Get on.” 

With that, Jake extended a pair of gorgeous hands for Tonowari to hold on before lifting him to sit on his back. 

“It’s similar to riding a Tsurak, Tonowari. Only this one can fly much higher,” Jake explained before ordering his ride to take off. Seconds later, they were soaring through the sky above the mountains, home to a large number of Ikrans. 

Tonowari pretended to be afraid of falling, so his finned hands gripped Jake’s thin waist tightly. Jake remained oblivious, not knowing the cunning sea man’s true nature. He could only feel sorry for him, using his five-fingered hand to rub Tonowari’s forearms in a comforting gesture. 

Not long after that, the two arrived at the residence of a flock of Ikrans. 

“Stay behind me, Tonowari.” 

“Yes. And uh... how do I know that it chose me?” Tonowari asked curiously. 

“It will try to kill you.” 

“What?” 

“I know it’s strange. But when I first tamed my Ikran, Neytiri taught me like this.” 

“Understood.” Tonowari began walking towards the flock. 

Many of them roared at him and flew away. However, one Ikran decided to actually attack him. It was bigger than the rest. Its body was sea green with patterns running across it, looking strangely beautiful. 

“This one attacked me. Is this the one I should choose, Jake?!!” 

“If you feel like it’s going to kill you, then yes.” 

“Alright!” Tonowari used the spear he had been holding in his hand to hit the Ikran in the face, causing him to collapse to the ground in one fell swoop and quickly lunged at him before it could respond. Tonowari caught the Ikran’s kuru before making tsaheylu with it, but right after he felt so dizzy that he almost threw up because that was how the Ikran felt when he hit him. 

Tonowari himself immediately removed his long braid and staggered back. Jake, surprised, ran towards Tonowari.  

“What is it?” 

“I’m so dazed it feels like I’m about to vomit.” 

“You hit your Ikran with all your might and then rushed to make tsaheylu with it. Through it, both of you shared each other’s feelings. What you feel, your Ikran feels too.” 

“Right.” Tonowari massaged his temples. 

“Let’s try again. Make tsaheylu with it and fly with me,” Jake said as he walked back, made the bond with his Ikran and took off. Tonowari quickly followed suit and flew after Jake. The two flew together, looking at each other with joyful smiles. 

They stayed like that for a while until the couple found a stream nearby and decided to head there. 

Both of them let the two animals go and play while they went to rest a little. 

“I’m a little sweaty. Why don’t we take a bath and get cleaned up?” Jake said as he began to take off all his accessories, leaving only his small loincloth covering his private parts. 

“Agreed,” Tonowari replied shortly after taking off his robe. 

Jake didn’t hesitate and immediately pulled Tonowari’s on arm so they could go down and play in the water together, splashing water on each other like children. There were only the two of them there. And right now, they were neither Olo’eyktan nor Toruk Makto. Just ordinary Na’vis.  

“Ah!” A wave hit his body and he fell down. Tonowari reached him and held his back to help him up, but he jumped when he felt something hard pressed against his soft bottom. 

“Tonowari...” 

“I apologize, Jake. That was rude of me.” Tonowari turned away embarrassed. 

“What are you ashamed of? It’s just the two of us here,” Jake said, shifting his position so that he was straddling Tonowari before using a slender hand to rub the hard shaft that was hidden by the loincloth. 

“Ugh... Jake...” Tonowari tried to suppress the desire with all his might. 

But that seductive cat was driving him crazy. 

“Tonowari, I- Mgh... Ahh!!” Jake flinched. His round buttocks were smacked and gripped by the Olo’eyktan’s slippery hands, which began to spread across the soft channel caressing it, inserting a finger and striking the wild cat’s clitoris hard. 

“Ah, ah! Don’t... do that.” 

“Why not? Don’t you like this?” Tonowari questioned quietly, but his fingers were being thrusted so hard that his small body shook every time he moved and flexed them. 

“Ha, ah, I’m gonna-!!” Jake shuddered and let out a load of white liquid that he couldn’t stop. Tonowari saw this and could only imagine the affection for the other party. He was actually the father of four children, but he acted like it was his first time. Had he ever been touched like that? 

Tonowari withdrew his fingers. Jake also knew his duty and moved to free Tonowari of his cumbersome loincloth. 

“I need you, sir. Put it in.” Jake’s face and tone of voice were adorable and pleading. Or would he not be given a reward? Tonowari rammed his hard cock into him in one go. 

Jake became dazed and his body convulsed with lust. As they lay down, his stomach, which was not as flat as when he was young, was now bulging with the size of Tonowari’s member. 

“I love you, Ma’Jake,” Tonowari said, slamming his hips violently. 

“Ah, ah, I love you, ah!” Jake moaned. 

The sound of flesh slapping echoed throughout. 

It was a mixture of lewd noises. And they showed no signs of stopping any time soon. Up until the eclipse, the sound of skin slapping together, and Jake’s sweet voice continued to be heard. 

Jake was no longer conscious. After he and Tonowari had committed tsaheylu, the happiness flowing through Jake’s head had knocked him out. He couldn’t think of anything but Tonowari. 

Tonowari also appeared to be losing consciousness. His tall body tirelessly hit his waist and stroke his small body. He released milky white droplets. No matter how many times, it would never be enough. Right now, Jake’s stomach was filled with a white fluid that had made it rise slightly. 

Now, they didn’t need anything but each other. And it would always be like this. 

THE END 

Vocabulary list: Ayram alusìng (Floating Mountains), Ikran (Mountain banshee), Tsaheylu (bond, neural connection), Tsurak (Skimwing), Kuru (neural queue), Olo’eyktan (clan leader), Toruk Makto (great leonopteryx/last shadow rider)

[mintyiceberg]

A little piece...

Hi ! All right, so it's been exactly a year since I started working on this. Long story short, what I'm sharing is a portion of the first chapter of a story that has 28k words (aprox.). This work contains true life events from people I'm close to, but some parts were dramatised to match the plot. It also has a little bit of my twisted imagination, character wise. If you'd like to have a bit more background on what the story's about, I'd gladly make another post for it. :)

I'd also like to add that there are some blank spaces. The "___"s for example. These are just characters that I haven't decided a name for yet.

I wanted to share this to hopefully get some feedback on my writing, since English isn't my first language, and your own opinions on this. ;)

Word count;1k3 Characters; Morgan Black (Male), Lexi Bloodworth (Female) Omniscient narration Music recommended; Revolt Playlist (I recommend you play this playlist on shuffle)

Morgan was anxious to get away from the crowd. Therefore, he decided to take a seat in the black couches in the back and less crowded part of the place. He needed to breathe.

The lights were too bright for him. Even though he’s been here a couple of times, he still can’t get used to that. He couldn’t see any better after trying to block the light with his hands. How did anyone get used to walking in here without tripping over literally anything?

Although trying to be careful, he blindly sat next to someone. 

She looked at him, a little startled as to how he didn’t see her. 

To be fair, an all black dress-code perhaps isn’t as noticeable on black couches. She had a great camouflage. Except for her transparent heels with silver spikes all over them and silver covering the entire twelve centimetre high heel. Her legs were crossed and her arms spread along the back of the couch. Not to mention her ebony hair. If anything, the only things visible were her face and hands due to their pale grey hue. Very odd for a human being.

As soon as Morgan tried to lay his back on the couch, her arm unintentionally interrupted him from doing so. 

He jumped from his seat and set his back straight. Taken by surprise, he looked back to whoever was next to him.

Morgan - Oh ! I’m very sorry. I wasn’t really looking at who I sat next to. - He apologised. - Not that I could see where I was heading to begin with. - He muttered.

Lexi - Don’t worry about it. - He examined her, studying her voice and appearance. Finding her green eyes every now and then.

Morgan realised who he was talking to. He has heard of this person before, but never really paid attention to understand anything that his friends said about her. He did, however, overhear: ‘She’s always here’, ‘She’s always in black’, and ‘She always wears a mask’. He heard mask and Bloodworth in the same sentence one too many times. 

This had to be her. 

Who else would it be ?

Morgan - Lexi Bloodworth, right ? - She nodded slightly. The mask caught Morgan off guard. It resembled the skeleton mouth of some sort of animal.

Lexi - Yes. 

Her voice was deep and smooth. It sounded like the calm waves of a beach at midnight. All of a sudden it felt as if the loud music wasn’t so loud anymore. He could hear her perfectly clear without needing to shout. 

Lexi - What’s your name ? - Her velvety voice inquired, green eyes turned to Morgan’s direction.

Morgan - Morgan Black. Nice to meet you. - He couldn’t hide the nervousness in his voice. It was a habit of his to stutter every so often.

Lexi - Likewise. - She removed her back from the couch, along with her arms. She uncrossed her legs, and crossed her wrists between them in a swift motion. - I’ve seen you here before. Taking a break from every day ? - Even if her voice was tranquil, it made the atmosphere a bit heavy. Perhaps her tone is a bit rough. 

Morgan shrugged a bit.

Morgan - Actually, a couple of my friends come here regularly. I don’t. Not my thing.

Lexi - How come you’re here then ? - Her brows furrowed.

Morgan - They, uh, forced me to. My friend, Evan, practically dragged me to the car. All of them said I should have a night out, but I’m not into all the things they’re in. You see, I don’t really drink much, perhaps a beer with a low alcohol percentage and that’s it. All those other alcohols are just too strong for me. And-. - Morgan kept talking, but his voice started to fade in Lexi’s head.

She just stared at him with blank eyes. Didn’t move an inch. The mask hid a bit of that disinterest in his explanation of their dislike of alcohol. 

Despite her growing indifference, she was kind of glad that he tried to keep himself from even touching the stuff if he’s not into it.

Morgan - I, uh, I think I’m talking your ear off. - He scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

Lexi - Significantly.

The ice cubes in her  drink were starting to melt. Has he really been talking for that long ? Was the conversation too boring ? The answer was yes, but he was not aware of it.

Lexi - Anyhow, other than over explaining a preference, are you enjoying it here ? - He chuckled nervously.

Morgan - Yeah, I am.

Lexi - Welcome to Hell. Is it living up to your expectations ? - The way she interrogated puzzled him. He didn’t know how to respond to such a question. Of course he knew what he was being asked, but the delivery was odd.

After shuddering, he untied the knot inside his throat and spoke.

Morgan - Sure. Music’s great, I got myself a soft drink, the seats are comfortable, and it feels safe here. Why’d you ask ? - It took him a moment to understand whilst she just stared back with no expression and her arms returned to rest on the back of the seat. - Oh, you… Run this place ? -

Lexi - You sure are quick at connecting dots. - He stared back at her, somewhat clueless. 

This was a weird conversation. He’s heard a few things about her. He didn't fear her, but this friend-like talk she was having with him felt strange. The way her voice sounded was off too. It sounded as if she were tired, but also at ease and observant. It made him feel calm too.

Morgan - How do you do that ? - There were so many different answers to this question.

Lexi - Can’t really reveal a secret. However, I’ll give ___ credit, she makes magic. - She said as she tilted her head back as if to untense herself. 

Morgan - Is ___ the girl over there ? The one changing the music ?

Lexi - Yes.

Morgan - Magic, huh ?

Morgan looked towards the dance floor, where his friends were. It’s true. Every single person was dancing. They could’ve been the only ones actually sitting down. 

Even the bartenders were dancing in their places or bobbing their heads to the music. 

It seemed incredible how this place was full. It felt somewhat unusual. In its own way hypnotising, blissful, and timeless. This place was a different reality, for sure.

Morgan snapped out of his daydream and cleared his throat.

Lexi - You seem nervous, everything okay ?

Morgan - Yeah. Like I said, this isn’t the place I’d usually choose to chill. Besides, meeting the owner of such a place is an occasion I’m not used to.

Lexi - Hmm. All right then, I won’t make your nervous system go into overdrive. 

Morgan - Oh, that’s not what I-. - She interrupted.

Lexi - Don’t worry about it. I have things to do anyway. - She gracefully got up from the seat and gently shook her coat. - I hope you continue to enjoy your night, Morgan. 

Morgan - Thank you, likewise.

Lexi took her glass and the spikes on her heels shined with every step she took. Her style of walking was so different. Morgan paid attention to every movement she made. One foot in front of the other, arms dancing by her sides, and her hips, waist and shoulders moved in the shape of an S. It was elegant and confident. Morgan blinked rapidly twice. She disappeared.

While he sat alone, he took a few more sips of his canned soda and got lost deep in his own thoughts.

Questions were swimming inside his mind. He couldn’t digest the fact that the owner of a place such as the ‘Revolt’ had talked to him. That never happens. Yes, she could’ve just been polite to him to make everyone feel welcome, but this felt specifically odd. 

Her presence felt like a complete mystery. When he looked at her, he felt relaxed, but, for some bizarre reason, heavy. 

The biggest question in his head was that mask. Did she really have to put one so… Eccentric ? 

Morgan had the sudden wish to look at what was under it. She was hiding something. He wanted to know what that was.

[sol-consort]

Man FUCK that bitch ass fucking assassin motherfucker I hope he rots. Sorry he pissed me off to no end.

Also yeah FemShep’s VA is considered the better VA of the Shepards which makes sense MaleShep is voiced by Mark Meer who hadn’t done much voice work before, his biggest role being Cyric in Baldur’s Gate II, and FemShep was voiced by Jennifer Hale who had been at it for almost 20 years at the time. It wasn’t just Jennifer Hale either, Anderson being Keith David and Joker being Seth Green who had both been doing it over 20 years. I liked MaleShep’s voice though and never had a problem with it because it’s very main heroy and recognizable like I’d instantly know that it was Shepard if I heard it.

I knew that the series wouldn’t be exactly up with the times because it was 2007-2012 but Jesus I had no idea that FemShep gets harassed so much.

I didn’t get a reconcile scene on the Citadel since I didn’t romance anyone in ME1 I went into the series with Tali on my mind as my definitive romance.

I don’t think Thane praying for you instead himself is unique to his romance? Or at least I remember something similar happening maybe it was his son.

You can’t hit on EDI as MaleShep I’m pretty sure don’t remember that being an option however you can still hit on Joker as MaleShep I remember seeing that option and going “why would I say that?” Also I’m surprised you never mentioned the Joker segment of Mass Effect 2 where you sneak around the ship as Joker that section surprised the shit out of me.

Oh yeah a fun little fact, remember the show Once Upon a Time I’ve mentioned a couple times when talking about fairy tales? The actor who plays Kaiden was in that show and played the show’s version of Jiminy Cricket from Pinocchio. I don’t remember what happened to Cricket in the show though. He may have just stopped being relevant so they never brought him up again since the show just fucking loved doing that.

Is the hot assassin guy supposed to be unlikeable? I liked him so far, like ngl, plus he's pretty cool. Evil living weapons of destructions, my beloveds.

And yeah, i really like femshep, but it is pretty cool of them to give maleshep VA a chance for such a big character. Sure, it could've been better, but he probably did the best he could with the skills he had at the time, and it did appeal to some people!

And man I'm just lucky I actually enjoy these things ingames, like I am down to being a whore and flirting with everyone so it doesn't bother me when the npcs forcefully flirt with you bc you picked a woman. What bothers me is that the fact it's only bc you picked a woman, and just because I wanted it doesn't mean other people do and it might make them very uncomfortable. There are several mods to remove the sexual harassments femshep gets, I wish there was one to remove it for EDI tho.

We should all have a choice, is what I'm saying. It feels like femshep was made to appeal to straight guys who might play her as an outsider observer. Same with some lesbian characters, too, ngl- not all of them, but the game has its moments where it makes me realise oh this was put here for a straight dude to gawk at. Meanwhile, maleshep feels the proper self insert badass at times. Really hate that.

That's why I like picking NB options whenever they're present, you're free from expectations and the devs aren't sure what to make of you so they don't try to appeal to a certian demographic and just write your character as a character.

You did Tali romance? Hell yeah she is an amazing character and her relationship with Shepard feels phenomenal. Like a scientist princess and her knight in shining armour, amazing. Plus she is all adorable when she talks about engines and how we get to help her so many times.

Apparently her and Garrus end up together if you don't romance her, but I haven't seen it yet. She always felt close to Shepard, especially in the second game where she is the first friendly face you see.

I haven't met her yet in ME3, still doing side errands. I am very very broke and everything is very very expensive and I miss sugar daddy illusive man pls take me back, the alliance became more stingy than I remember or inflation is hitting hard.

Fuck I hat like 999999 something credits in the first game, why couldn't it tranfer over??

And Thane!! My heart! He even prays for you when he's not romanced??? That's it, he is legit the most precious character and no one else comapres. I would die for Thane, I would kill everyone on the Normady for Thane.

But I know Thane would forgive me If I picked Grunt over him bc my son which just makes Thane the most amazing man ever, DRELL ARE SUPERIOR I TELL YOU.

Also so far Drell worship Hanar (kinda) and Hanar worship protheons (kinda) and Javik likes humans(he is all current protheon population)

So by association! Drell and Humans are conncted, and no, I will not give up my tank of copium. Go buy your own. Idk what overdosing is, I have insomnia I forgot.

And aww we can't hit on EDI :( i would've treated her better than Joker.

Yeah I had the same reaction to the flirting with Joker line but just went for it because what's the worst that can happen? He says no and we laught it off.

Imagine if the worst was him retiring from being your pilot and you get soma rando driving the Normady around who now runs at half the speed and takes twice as much gas plus occasionally breaks down and you have to pay 100k credits for repairs.

Oh also then there is this one thing I am sure is exclusive to femshep.

You can sleep with Javik. The protheon. Yes.

But it's not a full romance :"(

He has four eyes I wonder if he has four-

I heard about once upon a time, the show. But never watched it.

I did however watch a random person talk about it in a video essay because I prefer that over watching shows.

This one.

It was fun, I'm not big on fairytales but I enjoyed hearing about it.

The Joker sneak section in ME2 didn't resonate with me much for some reason. It was nice but I didn't feel the pressure at all and with EDI constantly talking it got annoying and I just wanted it to be over.

His jokes were nice but the moment of trusting EDI didn't hit the same way it should've. It didn't feel endearing or earnest.

The sudden flip in their relationship afterwards was too jarring.

I prefer ME3 EDI and Joker dynamic over ME2. However I hate how EDI is becoming a "born sexy yesterday" character by the game when her core as a character is so profound and genuine. She wants to know her purpose, what it means to be alive and all the other characters mention about her is her body which is bleh.

Even some of her dialogues with Joker is just overplayed sex jokes. It's all of her amazing writing vanishes the moment it's not just her and Shepard in a conversation.

Kaidan's voice actor is great! He even stood out to me in the first game. You notice how much more convicnising and immersive his delivery was over the other characters, almost outshined ME1 femshep even.

It's like the dialogue and the way he delievers it fit perfectly. If I just read it, then I get a completely different impression.

The game doesn't have bad voice actors it just has very bad delivery from some characters. It's when someone keeps a constant tone and doesn't portray any emotions or adds any personalisation into the dialogue. It feels tone deaf a lot when what the character is speaking about is something intimiate, yet it sounds the same as asking about the weather.

Still, it is nostalgic in a way, this was extremely common in older games.

[islandpcosjourney]

3, 2, 1, action

27th March 2025

There we went again, to the action scan.

I am loving being reflective on this past year, even if I slightly remember things incorrectly. I had to go back to edit the last blog because Kevin read it and messaged me to say “I think you’ll find that…..” and oh, I’d got some facts the wrong way around 😂 I am but human. My baby brain can’t cope with everything 🤪

I got a lot packed into the stims week before I was back in Dundee for the action scan on the 27th March. Although I was consciously being a little bit cautious too as I knew I had completely overdone it during round 1 where I was working flat out during the day and forcing myself to keep busy in the evenings too. It didn’t pay off. It was only 2wks from beginning to end of round 1 & it took me 5 months to recover 🙄

This part of the treatment, the scans, was the same as before. Baseline scans check that your ovaries are ready with follicles waiting to be stimulated & that there are no ovarian cysts needing to be drained before treatment commences. The action scans determine how you’ve reacted to the hormone stimulation drugs. They’re always looking for several follicles to be a decent size before they put you forward for egg collection. I had been ready after my first & only action scan during my first round, although it was niggling away at me that I’d maybe been put forward for collection just a little bit too early as the nurse had had to go check with the consultant first, as I was borderline. At the time, I was hoping to spend less time on injections so I was delighted but this time I wasn’t going to be so impatient.

I was slower at growing the follicles this time BUT I had a much better collection of follicles growing so I felt fine with that. There were more of them and more at around the same size whereas in round 1, i’d had a few massive ones (which had triggered the reason to put me forward for egg collection rather than another scan) but tons of smaller ones which by collection day, hadn’t grown much more. So, I trusted that another couple of days of growing would help and I’d be back to hopefully get good news on Good Friday!

The actual Easter weekend isn’t a “festival” in our religious denomination really, like observing these days in a different way or holding special services. The Easter story, Jesus’ resurrection, is more important than Christmas BUT we rejoice in this story the WHOLE YEAR ROUND. So, Good Friday or Easter Monday or Lent etc aren’t days we organise things around but with someone like me who loves correlations between dates and special moments/memories, I couldn’t not note that my 2nd action scan was on Good Friday (29th March) and what a Good day it was. We got wonderful news that most of my egg follicles that were growing (I didn’t note down how many, but well over a dozen anyway) were of a really good size & were looking perfect for egg collection on the Monday. There were a few more small ones which they didn’t hold out much hope for, being quite small, but anything could happen over the weekend. I was to be first on the list for egg collection on Monday morning so an early start for us.

Just like last time, I had a timed trigger shot to take the day before and also paracetamol to take at a certain time too before coming in. The trigger injection is a timed release for the follicles to finish maturing. It’s so important to get the timing right as they don’t want the follicles releasing the eggs before they get you into surgery to remove them, then they’d be lost. So an added complication to this Easter weekend was the clocks changing on the Sunday! So when the nurse was working out what time my trigger shot needed to be taken, she had to really think about the clocks changing & it made me a little anxious 🙄

It’s such a precise treatment plan but also such a stab in the dark. Every single case, they have no idea how it’ll work out. They’ve got tons of experience to be able to give statistics and percentages for outcomes etc but that’s only on past cases, not on you at that time. Only God knows what will happen and when and how. He knows our whole story before we’re even conceived. He knows when we’ll die, even before we’re born. He knew that Sorcha had already started growing inside of me as an egg in one of my follicles when the scientists knew precisely nothing about what was actually going on in my ovaries at that moment. Even scans can be inaccurate. They only tell one part of the story. Treatment can react differently at any point and set off chain reactions for better or for worse. They can’t accurately predict what’s going to happen.

But God knows.

And He knew that Sorcha would be in my arms enjoying her baby groups a year later 🙏🏻

[monster-rinds]

Chapter 24: I’m going digging

When I got back to my domain, I took the time to revert back to my Synthia disguise and recreate my cell phone.

Then I texted my old coworkers, “Update as promised: Talked to other monster. Name is Milk. Looks like milk. Had some interesting monster things to say. Easier to explain in person, if you’re curious. Will text highlights later when I figure them out.”

After a couple thoughts, I decided to send them one last message.

“This doesn’t really concern or impact you. As a friend, I just want to start sharing more of my,” and I really hesitated on the next word before typing it in, “life with you. If you want.”

They, of course, didn’t see that hesitation at all. I’d been using ‘life’ to describe my existence to them before, when I was hiding the fact that I was a monster. But I don’t think of my existence as a life. Life is what organically blooms on this planet. It’s not me.

If I were talking to Felicity about my existence, I might say, “I’ve had a good emanation, so far, I think.” One of the things I really liked about the word she taught me. Emanant. It gave me a set of words that were equivalent to ‘life’ that really fit.

In my mind and when I talked to people, I noticed that I was sort of slowly swinging back and forth between ‘emanant’ and ‘monster’, and the longer I used one of those two words the more it felt like the other word fit better. And I wasn’t sure which one I’d land on. But that was a minor thing that would work itself out. I’d had similar problems with other languages in the past.

In the meantime, I had bigger questions.

Questions to actually ask someone.

“Felicity,” I addressed my parasitic partner. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I can’t really stop you,” she replied.

I sent her the monster equivalent of a mental sigh, but just pushed on without explaining further, “Would you be willing to tell me how you sensed that it’s probably another emanant cleaning up our mess in the precinct?”

“Oh, sure,” she said. “It’s not an ‘adaptation’ as you’d call it, though.”

“Ah, you get why I’m asking.”

“Yeah. But, anyway,” she replied, “it started when the elaborate modifications to their computers you’d made for me got unmade before my eyes in a matter of minutes. That was the first big clue.”

“Shit. Like Hayward Grocery.”

“Yes. But the second clue was spookier.”

“Oh?”

Felicity lowered her mental voice and explained, “The people I’d riled up and gotten all angry and on their own personal warpaths started coming back with missing memories and no interest in continuing their beefs.”

“Oh.” I thought about that a little bit, chilled by the implications. “Were those your hosts? Like hosts you’d used and then left?”

I got a mental shake of her head, long and slow.

Then she said a worse thing, “A couple of them were potential hosts, though. And then they weren’t.” Then, while I tried to contemplate what the ramifications of that were, to imagine the kind of monster that could do that, she asked, “Can you tell me how you hack computers like you do? Maybe even teach me to do it?”

“Sure,” I responded, almost absently. But as instantly as I could.

If we were truly allied against the same Supraliminal emanant, or emanants, who were working against us, I wanted her to have as many of my skills and adaptations as I could give her. And I wanted to figure out a few more adaptations to beef us both up as well.

We needed to learn how to look at the Strands, to send ourselves and others that existed there. And I wondered if doing so might give us some insight in how to remove Felicity from my being.

But, because of my Big Bad Hunch, I didn’t know if I could trust her with that much.

However, I couldn’t let on that I felt that way.

I added, “We do need to learn how to see the Strands, too.”

“I don’t even know how to start with that,” she mumbled.

I decided that this was a good time to check in, “Are you OK?”

“What do you mean?”

“You decided that you wanted to stay within me for the time being, last time we tried to excise you, and I suggested that trying to eat another emanant could be your avenue of escape,” I reminded her. “But you’ve changed a lot. You’re not as enthusiastic as before. You seem frustrated and discouraged.”

There was a pause and a quietness of thought from her, and then she said, “I guess that makes sense.”

“What can I do to help you?” I asked.

“Why do you want to help me?” she shot back almost immediately. “You’re sustaining my existence already. I’m eating you.”

That brought me up short.

It reminded me of exactly what our relationship was at the moment.

Just as I could now eat other monsters, and could adapt myself to eat her specifically, ridding myself of her presence and drain on my system, she could do essentially the same. This whole time, she could have been putting her growth into her mouth and digestive tract, so to speak, to begin consuming me at an exponentially increasing rate. I would be gone in seconds. But she chose not to do that, at no apparent benefit to herself.

Except that maybe I was a good place to hide.

“Understood,” I said. Then I opened my mind more clearly to her, so that she got my surface thoughts and feelings, and said, “Here’s what I’m planning on doing. I’ve got energy reserves that will last us for a while even if I don’t eat. So I’m going to change the way I eat to something less nutritious but more useful to our mutual goals.”

“I still don’t understand how you do that,” she said. “Some adaptations I get, yes. But changing how you eat? Isn’t that fundamental to what you are? I know you can do it, but how?”

“It might have something to do with how I emanated.” I wasn’t sure. I was just throwing out an idea as it occurred to me. “It could be that my fundamental nature is to be adaptable in that way.”

She guessed where I was going with this, or read it in my mind, “So, you’re going to go back to eating the emotions of other emanants?”

“Yes,” I affirmed her. “Your own radiant emotions will not be enough to replenish what you take from me, of course. I’m not sure the combined emanant populace of Gresham could do that. Emanant emotions are not as rich as those of life, much less humans. Not for me, at least. And there are much fewer monsters here than I’m used to.”

“But it’ll let you read emanant emotions,” she concluded.

“Exactly.”

Felicity asked, “You want to use that to help you fight your enemies?”

“I do,” I replied.

“And you’ll be more able to read my emotions more easily, even if I hide them.”

“That will be one of the effects, yes.”

“Are you asking my permission?”

“I think I am.”

It took her a long time to reply to that.

I was so focused inward, that I was not really aware of the state of my domain, or the world around it. But I did notice a freezing rain that began to fall through my leaves. And so I took a moment to scan the surrounding area, and there were no other emanants of any size or type within range of my senses.

Everyone and everything that was not life had cleared far and away from me.

If I wanted to actually feed on the emotions of other emanants, it looked like I would have to actively find and chase them. Which meant I’d expend more energy than I consumed, if I didn’t actually eat them.

But I’d suspected that would be the case.

My surface thoughts were still open to Felicity.

“OK,” she said. “Go ahead.”

Actually sitting down and adapting myself to do the new things I wanted to do took less time than it did in the past. But it was still time consuming. Especially on the scale of time as I was experiencing, more like a human.

Teaching Felicity how to do the same made it take longer, of course.

Certain holidays came and went, and the music that Harward Grocery was playing had probably changed significantly by the time we were done.

Trying to see the Strands and learn how to explore them turned out to be as simple as pushing my consciousness into that part of myself that resided in that realm, and then developing something akin to eyes that I could push through my outer surface there.

It took some experimentation to understand what I was perceiving and how to perceive more, but I started to understand why Milk had called them the Strands. They looked like something I’d call the Strands, myself. Separate, nearly unconnected dimensions of spacetime itself, sort of.

I saw that I might even be able to detect other monsters there if I could get close enough to them in either the subliminal space or life space.

It was a start.

And I felt better about working with Felicity on it all as well.

We might make a good team, afterall.

It was also possible that spending so much time retreated into my domain made our adversaries feel that they had cowed us. I hoped that’s why they didn’t interrupt us during that time.

---

Milk wasn’t done with Gresham, even though it had left.

It wanted to be done with Gresham. The situation there was untenable and likely to become very violent very quickly, and any other Overlords who were present when it did would be torn asunder by the victor. But maybe it could wait until that was done.

The thing was, however, that when Milk had taken the opportunity to really examine Synthia up close, it had discovered something alarming and deeply intriguing.

There was another Overlord secured, safe and fed, within Synthia itself.

Milk needed to know more about that. It had never seen such a thing before. It needed to learn.

But, for now, it returned to its home, its own personal cell tower where it fed and kept tabs on the world via the Internet.

Maybe it could learn something more from its own network of information. If not, it would venture forth again when it had refilled its energy reserves.

---

Cassy sat in their old customary booth at Shady’s, alone, staring at the last text message that Synthia had sent, two weeks ago.

“This doesn’t really concern or impact you. As a friend, I just want to start sharing more of my life with you. If you want,” it read.

Neither she nor Greg nor Ayden had known what to do or say about that message. Not after learning what they had learned about Synthia. It was too scary. And then they didn’t receive any more, and had not seen nor heard from Synthia since. And in the interim, their lives had been upended. It was harder to coordinate, to do anything about anything.

Following Synthia’s removal from Hayward Grocery, things there had changed quickly. Sometimes it was with the excuse that they were restructuring for Christmas specifically, or for the New Year, but other times it was blamed on Synthia and the need for tighter security.

Clocking in and out, bizarrely, went from solely relying on the computer system to a step back. And now they had to hand sign a paper form as well. A small change, but a very irritating one that required them to stop in front of the manager’s office and take one extra little step on the way in and out of work.

A security officer was hired, who worked from an offsite office, and some of the staff were occasionally assigned to work with that officer by rotating door duty. They were called “greeters”, but their instructions were to watch for “unusual people”.

There were a myriad of other small changes, too, that were too numerous to list. Alterations to the codes they called out over the intercom, and when to call them. Changes to bagging procedures. Clearer and more detailed instructions for counting your till. Those kinds of things.

And then their shifts had all been shuffled about.

And now, Cassy, Greg, and Ayden were all on separate shifts that didn’t overlap much, necessitating different personal schedules, with different weekends.

It was nigh impossible for them to meet in person for longer than a few minutes anymore. Not all three of them at once. Not for longer than a few minutes.

And that felt like early stage union busting tactics to all three of them. The timing of it was just too obvious. And the disruption of it too thorough.

They still communicated via text and email, though, and were more seriously working on the whole union idea now. Especially with the changes management had been making to the store. In some ways, getting the other employees on board was now easier.

But on her own personal time, alone, while Ayden was working and Greg was sleeping, and her own housemates and other friends – if they could really be called friends – were doing their own things, Cassy couldn’t stop thinking about Synthia.

Synthia’s lot was not that far away from Shady’s.

She could easily walk there.

What if she did? What would she find?

---

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[welcometomy20s]

July 18, 2023

There is a lot of ambition within me, but it was coupled with a sense of fear and anxiety.

The result is what people deem maladaptive daydreaming. There was also a bit of that from the start, but back in the old days, I had a grip on reality, so I could let myself be fixed while entertaining a bit of my fantasies in a somewhat healthy way. But at some point, my imagination became too big for me and my obsessions started to overwhelm, and COVID meant I lost all my contacts and therefore I was left floating in air, and this is where I really felt the ‘mal’.

There I was lying on the bed, slowly losing my grips on reality. My mind pings back to the music video for Me! Me! Me!, one of the most influential anime shorts - a kinetic manifesto on otaku culture. There is a sequel to that video, and it shows the main guy being with the main girl, enjoying their normal relationship. You can’t break away from madness. Madness just has to be realized in some form or another, you have to land your world into reality.

All my work, writing here and elsewhere, has been about me landing my world into this reality. To reject the world is to kill off most of my brain activity. A functional lobotomy, in a sense. Perhaps something like that would be necessary, but a similar excuse is what made actual lobotomies happen, and most people recognize the practice as a human rights violation.

As seen above, the biggest trouble with maladaptive daydreaming is the disillusion with reality. Nothing in reality makes me really happy right now. Minimalism is seen as an escape from capitalism, but I think it also reflects the tendency of removal from reality. Things do not make people happy anymore, there is far more potent happiness to be found elsewhere.

They say money doesn’t buy you happiness, but this neglects the complexities of money and happiness. Money is the way to happiness, if you know what to go for. For many poor people, having enough money to live means they could be free to pursue their happiness.

[triguuuun]

Here are some process pictures! I can only include so many and these felt like the only ones worth showing

I started with a paper figure to try and figure out the layers and how many pieces I would need and then did the good classic wrap yourself in seran wrap and tape and draw out ur pattern then cut it off your body technique which you shouldn’t do alone because it’s really really hard and time consuming and then created a test outfit with some red cotton

I sewed the skirt panels to a belt for quick removal (def helps with bathroom breaks) it’s a cloth belt I could easily sew through and it had blocky plastic buckle that I hid behind the long front middle panel and the waistband of the outside belt with a few snaps but it is definitely the support of this outfit most of the weight of all these long pieces of fabric were on my hips

Then when I had my sizes right and knew where I needed my button holes to be I bought my fabric and my friend convinced me to get some faux suede so then with my new pattern I cut everything out again and resewed it all which went by a million times faster when I knew what I was doing this time. For the collar I actually sewed the tiniest bit of foam between two piece of fabric that was sturdy enough to keep its shape but the outfit was still pretty heavy and would pull it out of place so I braided a bunch of pipe cleaners together and hot glued them under a flap of the collar to keep it stiff

Then I worked on the pants and actually made belts!! I completely fucked them up the first time and made them too large for the metal buckles but luckily I had extra fabric left and simply had to remake them (i also made these sort of chaps?? From a leather skirt I tore apart and sewed some zip ties inside to act like boning. Didn’t work super well because I didn’t actually leave myself with enough fabric to sew the zip ties securely in with but I didn’t have enough fabric left to restart with

The knee pads and elbow pad were pretty easy (I say after having a meltdown and almost quitting this outfit over) I just ripped apart some actual kneee pads and then painted them, added some felt on the outside beneath the leather and a bra pad on the inside against my knee and then hot glued the leather on top of the foam/I did sew the straps on the bra pad beforehand they also came from an old bra so unlike the chaps I couldnt strap myself into it I had to step into these but they stayed up ok. To keep the belts up I sewed little hooks onto my legging and the belts and it worked pretty well actually I wasn’t constantly pulling them up all day put more so straightening them when someone asked for a picture

I didn’t make the glasses the wig the gun or boots I did style the wig tho but otherwise the only other thing is the gun holster but it’s super straightforward I had a couple scraps from the skirt waistband left I sewed to hold it up on my belt and then followed a basic gun holster making tutorial on YouTube it worked pretty easily but it didn’t look super spectacular you can’t really see it tho so I wasn’t really worried more so I just wanted something to hold my prop while I walked around all day and it did the job great

I think one of the hardest parts is the undershirt connecting to the top poncho like piece with the long sleeves. They’re actually two different tops on my outfit I zipped myself into a short sleeved shirt and then snapped the armpits to the inside of the sleeves for the top piece that I could just put over my head. I definitely did take the shirt off at some point and had a bra the same color as the coat on during the con night hours which was amazing because that outfit was cozy as hell

Otherwise all that was left was the wig and I don’t have any pics or space for it on this post but I just followed basically any tiktok wig styling tutorial I could find (●’◡’●)ﾉ

OH MY GOD I NEVER POSTED MY COSPLAY PICS

YALL LOOK!!

I MADE THIS!!! I’m very proud of it :3

Also some Polaroids!

That’s all thank you ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡︎☮︎︎

[suhnshinehaos]

growing pains : act two, part nine

series synopsis : people say that you’ll experience three kinds of love in your lifetime. the first is an idealistic love, the kind that feels straight out of a fairy tale. the second is the hard love, the kind that will leave you with lessons about yourself and the love you want and need to experience. finally, the love you never see coming. this is the story of your three loves. pairing : svt 97 line x gn!reader genre/s : non-idol au, coming of age, angst, fluff, my attempts at humor act two, part nine wc : ~1k

act two : the hard love  ➤  part 09 : expiration date

when anyone asks mingyu and yn what their relationship is, they'll answer "just friends". no one believes that, not even for a second. not their friends, and certainly not mingyu and yn themselves. but with their lives in the spotlight, one more so than the other, they're about to find that even staying friends may be more difficult than it seems. especially when feelings are involved.

previous  ➤  act two, part eight next  ➤  act two, part ten growing pains ➤  masterlist 

you stare up at the ceiling of your bedroom, at the glow-in-the-dark stick-on stars that mingyu helped you place when you first moved in. they’ve lost most of their glow, but you knew that they were there. your bed feels strangely uncomfortable; the pillows feel oddly stiff, the blanket itches your skin. no matter how many times you had tossed and turned in the past few minutes, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to fall asleep.  

“what’s on your mind?”

mingyu’s voice is low, just loud enough for you to hear. you turn to your side, only to find that he’s already facing you.

“how long have you been awake? did i wake you up?”

he shakes his head in response and his hand moves to trail his fingers along your bare arm. you can’t help but feel a shiver travel up your spine, wanting nothing more than to look away from the intensity of his gaze and the nonchalance of his actions.

“are you thinking about the interview?” mingyu asks, moving his hand to cup your cheek and rubbing his thumb against the skin beneath it.

you instinctively lean into his touch, mumbling into his skin, “you know if i get it, i would have to leave. i’d have to go back home.”

mingyu sighs and you’re close enough to see the creases between his brows and the slightest quiver in the corner of his mouth. “i know that.”

“would you ask me to stay?”

“do you want me to?”

did you? in the past couple or so years you’ve had this relationship, or rather lack of a defined one, with mingyu you always felt like you were teetering the line between what it meant to be friends and what it meant to be something more. you knew you wanted nothing more than the latter. and you knew from each stolen glance and each subtle touch that mingyu wanted the same.

what was stopping him?

is it because of his career? you were more than willing to keep what you have a secret, if that was what it would take, for as long as there was actually something to hold on to.

“if i said yes, would you ask me to stay?”

he removes his hand from your face, and you could feel his fingers tremble as they leave your cheek. cold air immediately hits your skin, and you’re not too sure if it’s from the open window letting the chilling night air in.  

“you know you can’t have it both ways, gyu. you can’t keep me around as your friend in public but act like we’re more in private.” you sigh out, turning back to face the ceiling once again. you don’t exactly have it in you to meet his disappointed gaze. it’s a topic that you’ve tried to open up multiple times, but he only brushes it under the rug. you don’t feel the mattress shift, letting you know that he’s still looking at you. 

“i’m terrified, yn… i just got out of another dating rumor, and some of these so-called fans are ruthless. i can’t bring you into that, i can’t bring you into this world. it’s a lifestyle that i can already barely keep up with, i don’t want you to struggle under that either.” 

mingyu’s voice cracks when he says your name and his breath shakes by the time he finishes his sentence. your heart aches and you want nothing more than to reach out to him, to comfort him, but you know better. doing so would only push this necessary conversation even further back, and you have had enough. not with the possibility of you leaving looming around the corner.

“then we’ll keep it a secret. we can sneak around, it wouldn’t be too difficult if we do long dis-”

“you would end up resenting me.” mingyu cuts you off with a sad smile, one that you couldn’t see. perhaps it’s better that you don’t. if you did, you would have swept this conversation over in a heartbeat.

“i wouldn’t.” you blink back the tears that threatened to form, holding out just a little bit more hope. “just make me yours.”

“yn… i’m already yours, but i can’t make you mine.” he laughs, albeit bitterly. mingyu puts a hand over his heart, his fingers grasping at the soft cotton beneath them. given how close you were to each other, you could feel each and every little movement that came from him. “i’m sorry… i want to, but i can’t, i can’t take that risk. call me selfish all you want, but this is the compromise i can make without you getting hurt by the world.”  

you bite your bottom lip, just hard enough that you feared that it would draw blood. darkness and uncertainty shroud the two of you. he’s worried about you getting hurt by the world, by his fans and the nature of his work. doesn’t he know he’s hurting you too?

how could love be so selfish, yet selfless at the same time? there is not a single doubt in your mind that he’s hurting from all of this too, and you know that he’s coming from a place that only wanted to protect you. as much you believed that your relationship could prove him wrong, you knew there was no assurance of that.

being more than friends, not quite lovers was the best he could offer you.

“what does this mean for us? if i get that job-”

“you mean, when you get that job.”

“it’s nice to hear you believe in me that much.” you shake your head, turning to face him once more. you meet his gaze and your heart melts at his expression : the gentle longing look in his eyes and the soft smile playing on his lips.

“of course, i do… i always will. no matter what happens between us, friends or not.”

the beating of your heart rings in your ears and you can’t help but notice the rise and fall his chest matched with your own. he pulls you closer, making sure that you could rest your head on his chest and that he could rest his chin on the top of your head. and just like that, without explicitly saying so, both of you had placed an expiration date on whatever it is you have.

from reese, with love <3

the angst is angsting ... i am so sorry >_< thank you so much for reading! as always, i'd love to know what you think ! hope you're all doing well and taking care :)

[myrandomfandomramblings]

“Do you want to get dinner sometime“ Expanded - a Chenford Fanfic

Because I loved that scene in 5x08 but it was a little jarring and confusing to go from Tim saying it wasn’t about him to it being 100% about him 1 second later. Plus I just wanted to make it a little more Chenford centric and sappy. (No lines were removed but many were added).

“Hey we need to talk,” Lucy says, joining Tim by the flower beds outside of the station.

“Let me guess, Chris wants to buy a house in Chatsworth.”

“No,” Lucy counters but before she can correct him, he pushes on.

“This clearly isn’t working out. I don’t know why you won’t just admit it. Is it guilt? Is it because of what Rosalind did to him?”

“Oh, like I’m the only one that stayed too long when things aren’t working. You dated a lifeguard. You don’t even like going to the beach.”

“This isn’t about me,” Tim interrupts, fueled by the frustration that comes from unrequited feelings. Lucy tries to cut him off but he persists, “It’s not.”

“If it’s not about you then why do you care so much?” She spits back. He’s temporarily stunned into silence as he pulls back a bit and blinks to clear his head.

“You know why,” he finally offers and his tone has softened.

“I don’t actually,” Lucy rebuts “You continue to chastise me about staying in a dead-end relationship when you would still be in one too, if Ashley hadn’t pulled the plug for you.”

“You’re right,” Tim admits and Lucy’s fire starts to dissipate, “I stayed with Ashley far past when I knew it wasn’t going to work out, because it was easy and safe. But I wasn’t happy and when she ended it, instead of sadness I felt relief. I don’t want you to make my same mistakes. You can be braver than I was.” He pauses, waiting for Lucy to jump in but when she just continues to stare at him with big open eyes he continues.

“You asked me why I care. I care because I care about you. I want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I thought you were happy with him, but it’s obvious now you’re not and you deserve to be happy, Lucy.” He knows he should stop before he says too much but every emotion he’s grappled with since that undercover kiss is now coursing through his veins, pushing him forward.

“You deserve the world and the opportunity to find someone who will give it to you. I just don’t want to see you throw that away by staying in a safe relationship because you’re scared.”

“Of course I’m scared,” Lucy counters, “Because as long as I’m in a relationship I have an excuse not to consider other options but as soon as that’s over I’m free to make that decision, and it’s terrifying because if we do this and it doesn’t work I’ll have ruined the most important relationship in my life.”

Tim freezes then, completely caught off guard. Although he had been heavily implying that he could be the one to make her happy, only in his wildest dreams had he thought she could feel the same way. Yet, here she was not only confirming that he is the most important person in her life but also that them being together was a real option. They could choose that. Choose each other. Choose happiness.

Lucy must have read his silence as hesitation because she starts to backtrack.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have,”

“You’re right,” he quickly interrupts.

“So let’s just get this over with now so I can break up with Chris without being scared of what comes next,” Lucy proposes, “we should just keep going the way we have been, right? It’s not worth the risk.”

“Unless it is?” He offers, fuelled by new hope. 

Lucy looks back at him questioning. He hesitates before clarifying. He takes a couple deep breaths and allows himself to really take her in, summoning all the courage he wished he had had earlier and that he had been asking her to have not a minute ago.

“Do you want to get dinner sometime,” he finally asks.

“Yes” she replies immediately and he can’t help but beam.

“Yeah?” He confirms. It stills seems too good to be true.

“Yeah,” she confirms then quickly hesitates, “no, um.”

“Okay,” he falters.

“No, no, it’s just, um, not yet,” Lucy clarifies, “ I owe it to Chris to end things the right way with him.”

Tim just nods unable to hide his disappointment, despite knowing she’s right.

“Ask me again, later. After,” she quickly adds.

Tim smiles, “Deal.”

And it’s by far the best deal he’s ever made. He can’t wait to fulfill it