#more than often i feel the urge to just go *nom nom* but sometimes i simply want to throw my hands at him... let’s not talk about that tho

[safety-writes-noms]

pls pls pls can i have some headcanons of miguel as both a pred and prey? he's not prey often for sure, but i bet he's grumpy about it when he is

ofc!! I usually write pred Miguel but I'm good with him as prey. tw vore! NSFW/kink blogs dni

honestly I can't see him enjoying being nommed too much. he's used to being in control and it's almost like a comfort to him in some ways. but when he doesn't have that comfort it causes him to become somewhat aggressive if he doesn't see the reason for why he needs to be nommed. or he doesn't agree with it. Plus he hates being trapped in confined spaces that he himself has not put himself into. Except sometimes when it’s soothing to him like if he’s super tired or something.

its definitely unpleasant because he's probably going to make a huge stink and even when he's the one tucked in a belly, he's still strong asf.

he will however grudgingly chill out if he's exhausted and tired from staring at screens for 40 hours straight. even though he'd rather keep working, he knows he can’t go on forever. Besides it’s really hard not to fall asleep in a warm cushy belly, where his most pressing problem is slime soaking into his suit.

I think he’d taste like something with a kick in it, some sort of spice with an underflavoring of maybe sweetness or saltiness? and then subtle hints of something bitter like coffee to pull it all together. he's delicious but you'll be extremely lucky if you even get a tiny little taste.

if he ever gets nommed for his protection best believe he’s going to argue a whole lot too. anything thats not his terms or not something he asked for results in him immediately getting annoyed. he's spiderman 2099, stubborn asshole genius extraordinaire (affectionate), he doesn't need protection. (he does he just won't admit it)

bottom line is that he won’t like it if it’s not in very specific circumstances :(. Or he’ll pretend that he doesn’t bc he’s such a skrunkly little dude (that man is 6’9 and 310 pounds of pure muscle)

He does actually enjoy nomming sometimes but doesnt really indulge in the instinct much. I’ve said this before but he feels like some sort of inhumane creature when he gets those urges even though most of the time it’s just a deep wanting need for whoever he’s craving to be as close as physically possible to him.

Or when he has a webbed up anomaly, sometimes he has to physically turn away from them so he doesn’t risk gulping them down. But that’s only for when the urge is super intense. He’ll probably satisfy it later with someone he’s close with and knows is fine with it. He knows that if it goes unchecked for too long he becomes increasingly agitated/sullen and he’d rather not deal with that in general.

other times like when he’s in his downtime, he’ll awkwardly ask whoever he’s craving if they’d be fine with being nommed. He knows it’s pretty weird or downright terrifying for people who have no idea how being nommed works. He’ll of the time he just doesn’t ask because he doesn’t want to deal with explaining. He’s just tired and wants a nice meal to fill him up while he naps or does some more work.

Eating food helps a little to stave off that urge simmering in his chest but ultimately won’t really fix it. Like slapping a bandaid on a missing arm (how do u even do that ??). He will be more inclined to nom someone if they ask him to do it for them. After all, if it’s what they want he’s got no objections unless he has to do something that requires a whole ton of physical movement. Miguel doesn’t want them to get hurt somehow even if they’re nestled in his gut. But other than that he’s fine with it.

[konoa-t]

I wanna talk about Mort more!! :D

Kinda long, so putting this behind a cut

[TW: Violence, mental collapse, torment, profanities, loud sounds]

Ok so I took a screenshot from the document where I hold a synopsis of all my OCs current lore, and I’m gonna elaborate on all of these points cuz I thought it would be fun!! I’ll be addressing each point in this image (starting from the top-most one)

Ok so idk how this got started but for some reason Mort just loves pancakes. Like he can’t get enough of them. His favorite is blueberry pancakes, with classic buttermilk being a close second (Yes this is very important information).

I couldn’t decide on what military rank to give Mort, so I just made it unkown :o) On a mildly related note, I did think about making him the colony’s scientist :D

Mort doesn’t talk at all. Technically he is capable of speech, but his mind has been so broken that he has almost lost all motivation or ability to form coherent sentences. However, he has found a way around this. He uses sign language to communicate with others when he feels like talking. Occasionally he will have a translator with him (either Reuben, Ackley, or Cormick [another OC, I’ll reveal him at some point in the future]) to help those who do not understand sign language. He’ll also make grunting, growling, or snarling noises in response to certain things (caveman brain LMAO. Though he’s pretty smart so maybe just gremlin brain would be a better term).

Also to add on to the previous point: when mort is signing, he swears a lot. Example:

Opponent: If you don’t get over here and fight me…

Mort: 🤏✋🖐️✊ (Kiss my grape-colored ass.)

Ok so here I mentioned that he was tortured, but I never specified how, so I’ll go ahead n elaborate on that OvO;; so basically the dark essence creatures used their dark magic to try and corrupt him (believe it or not, they weren’t initially intending to hurt him; they just wanted to turn him over to their side). Mort’s body rejected the magic, which led to his body painfully distorting itself (hence why he has a face that looks like it’s literally melting off. This is also what led to his mind breaking).

Okay so this one is more of a reference, specifically to this audio (VOLUME WARNING). I once made a joke about Mort’s feral screaming sounding like the typical caveman scream and it was so funny to me that I decided to keep it. So, whenever he screams, it just kinda sounds like “RAAAAAAAAGHHHHH!!” (If I’m being honest, his snarls sound more threatening than his screams.)

Mort has a bad tendency of, well, being excessively violent. Like, DOOM Slayer levels of violence. Most people are terrified of him for this reason.

This is another thing that started off as an edgy joke but is kinda sorta canon now. He doesn’t always do this, but if he’s pissed off enough (or.. hungry… enough? Maybe??) he’ll literally just… take a bite out of his opponent. Like full on, edgelord Baraka main style, just… Nom. (Fun fact: Baraka was actually one of the inspirations for his design!)

Thankfully, Mort is pretty tolerant of people he doesn’t regard as threats. This includes established allies, animals, and children (even though he REALLY doesn’t like them). He won’t attack people who fall into those categories.

Even though the worst part of his life has passed, he still has to be tormented every day by dealing with the nonsense of his colleagues. They often get him involved in shenanigans, which he is always less then pleased to get dragged into.

…Yeah, Mort does NOT like kids. He can’t stand them. They’re very… screechy (ironic, coming from him) and he finds that annoying. He won’t harm them in any way, but sometimes he just gets the urge to punt them over a fence.

Mort has a horrible tendency to bite people on impulse. Anyone who makes sudden or violent movements towards him should expect to get some part of their body chomped off. Even Reuben has to be extremely careful when checking any injuries Mort gets. In order to prevent this habit, Mort agreed to having a metal plate placed in front of his mouth (its held in place with short screws). While this is mostly effective, it is not a failsafe, as Mort is still able to knock or break it off at will.

Yeah, Mort is very creature-pilled... He is violent and unpredictable. However, he is still able to be pacified and befriended. (And who doesn't wanna be friends with an absolute creature?)

Because of everything that’s happened to him, his mind is pretty much in shambles. He is still able to retain some of his sanity, though he mostly acts very feral o_O;;

This bullet point was mostly in regards to allies and such. If he doesn’t think you’re a threat, he’ll just kinda sit there and pay you no mind. If you wanna chat with him, you’ll have to initiate it. Otherwise he’ll just… stare at you. (NPC behavior indeed. He’s not a fully serious character if you couldn’t tell lmao)

While Mort will listen to direct commands, he often just does whatever he wants. If he wants to do something, then off he goes to do it. He still gets his work done though, so no one in his colony really complains.

Bonus: Mort's official ref image, provided for convenience :D

[annabtg]

*cracks knuckles*

Okay, as someone with a long fandom history behind her, I feel compelled to reply to this.

I have participated in awards since I joined my first (non HP) fandom in 2003, as a n00by 15 year old whose English was still a work in progress and with very much no hope at even getting a nomination.

(That fandom, by the way, released the top 5 nominated fics in each category and only had one voting round. I think the Jilyawards releasing ALL nominations for the first round and accepting self-noms is very indicative of their purpose to celebrate and promote all fic, rather than encourage competition.)

The awards are just a fun way to celebrate the fic you have already written and would write anyway. You're meant to read the list of nominees and go boink your friends with a virtual stick and capslock at them that I TOLD YOU YOU WOULD GET A FIC OF THE YEAR NOMINATION!!!! Maybe, hopefully, see your own name on a list and feel a little surge of joy and pride. Read through the nominations and find your new favourite fic. Complain good-naturedly about how it's SO HARD to choose because all the fics are brilliant, or have a clear favourite and cross your fingers it will win. If you've ever, idk, watched sports or something, you must know the feeling.

Personally, anon, I find your attitude rather out of place, especially in a (subset of the greater) fandom that has elevated certain fics to god-tier status, that is looking for the next big fic (I just reblogged a post about it!!!), that sorts by kudos and kudos-to-hits ratio and refuses to read anything under 100 kudos. I don't know if you know me, but those who do will tell you I have made it my mission to comment on everything I read and urge people to comment as well, I participate on commenting and rec lists, I beta for people - all so people can get the encouragement and validation they deserve for engaging with such a demanding, time-consuming, sometimes plain frustrating hobby. There already is an element of competition in all of that, because people be like that, and the same people who will feel crushed for not getting an award nomination will also feel crushed for their fic sitting at 50 kudos for the last 3 years and having zero comments and their posts about it having one (1) reblog and never seeing their work on any rec lists.

This is why I do all that - and I also participate in the awards enthusiastically. I've sent in so many noms I can literally point you to a category where I've sent in ALL THE NOMS SO FAR except for my own story. I don't know if people consider me a big name or a good writer after almost three years of being back in the Jily fandom, but if they do, I promise you it has nothing to do with my winning a couple of awards and everything to do with the fact that I'm here, reading, commenting, reblogging, and okay, writing a bit. (Ironically, it seems like the more I win, the less I write! Would you look at that, it's almost like... one has nothing to do with the other...)

I understand that some people might not cope well in such an environment - and they're given the choice to opt out. I even understand that it might bother them to see awards posts everywhere for a couple of months - and they're given the choice to block the tag. But awards, competitions etc. are often a part of any activity where a lot of people participate and there's some element of trying to do your best (as I do with my writing, and I'm sure others do as well). And here, you're not even requested to perform for an audience or anything; in writing contests, you're usually requested to submit a new story specifically written for it. The Jilyawards are just a means of recognition for some of the stories that were written throughout the year. Do people stop writing because the Pulitzer and Nobel prizes exist and they have no chance of ever winning any?

I do hope that the people who don't end up being nominated or winning anything (and, like I said, I've been one of them. For years.) don't get discouraged, sad, or upset. And my way of doing that is, not showing up to start shit during awards time, but instead enjoying and celebrating the nominees throughout these two months - and then spending the rest of my year reading as much fic as I can, looking for the underappreciated writers and the fics that have few kudos and no comments, and leaving a note of love in hopes that it will brighten their day.

Do YOU do that?

I’m not here as often as I used to be, and it actually came as a surprise to see the jilyawards are coming around again after the tumultuous times in the past.

I get that as a fan creator part of it is praise for a job well done, (kudos,likes,reblogs etc etc) but aren’t the awards just creating a competition out of that hard effort?

I love rec lists, rebogs and shares, bookmarks, favorites and finding new fic as much as the next person, why does it have to be one person versus another, one fic versus another, why not share all?

Maybe it’s the minority opinion, or maybe you could do a poll or something, ask the audience their thoughts?

How does not ‘winning’ affect a creator's ability to create?

Are the awards a popularity contest or is there something more to them?

When you look at a list and see yourself absent do you feel bad?

I hope all participants gain something from the experience, but to anyone who doesn't get what they're hoping for, know your work was appreciated and you have value regardless of the results.

Hi Anon! 

You admit you haven’t been around as much as you used to be so maybe you missed it but we’ve actually been sharing and accepting fic recs and putting out lists ALL YEAR! So this message is a bit disheartening after all the volunteer hours we’ve put in this year. Something we’ve received overwhelmingly positive feedback on and planned to continue.

At the end of last year Ava stated she’d be stepping down from running awards and the new team volunteered to take her place so it could still exist and made some changes - like the fandom generated rec list every month- and added more categories because we’ve just always found the awards a bit of fun at the end of the year and wanted it to serve a greater purpose than just a “contest”. We have nothing to do with whatever the tumultuous times of the past were, and have no interest in knowing what they were either. 

People are always welcome to nominate themselves or a fic/art and we’ve tried to be very encouraging of that. The awards can be a great way for newer authors or works that are under rated to get noticed! And people aren’t forced to participate if they don’t want to (thus the opt out list). So we get the awards aren’t for everyone and that’s okay! 

In our view the awards are just another platform for works and folks who were enjoyed this year to be celebrated, shared and highlighted. It’s fun to see what’s out there and who’s done what during the year. There’s always going to be the fic that gets 8k kudos and the one that gets 8. Kudos and popularity aren’t the be all end of fic writing/fan art creating. And these awards are just supposed to be a bit of fun to round out the year. We as the hosts just run the admin behind it and we don’t make any decisions about who “wins”. 

If you’re basing your ability to create on how popular your work is and aiming to win a silly little internet award at the end of the year… we suggest maybe this isn’t the hobby for you, because that’s not what it should be about and it’s certainly not what we aim to be about. 

We’ve already gone through the effort of organising the awards for this year, but people are welcome to let us know if they don’t want it for next year and just want the rec lists because we can start a whole new blog for that and leave this account behind (or to someone else) if it’s not fun anymore and not appreciated. 

[euphor1a]

look who’s our b'day boy today 🥺;; my baby, my angel, my star, he really tried to look angry, but he ended up looking like the “🥺” emoji 😭🌸🥺🌈✨🦊🧚🏼‍♂️🍒

[hillvalleyfilmsociety]

I saw three movies in the last week. They were pretty different to each other, but I quite enjoyed all of them, so I'm resurrecting my film blog to write reviews of them. To 2018, and resolutions to write more!

Call Me By Your Name (2017) Dir: Luca Guadagnino

I was very interested in this pre-release, even though I had never read the book. Luca Guadagnino caught my eye with 2015's A Bigger Splash, which is stylistically very familiar to CMBYN, and which I really enjoyed. Guadagnino shines in the aesthetic of his films, in the beautiful scenery and silences between sparse dialogue. Both create a languid, sumptuous mood - wealth and privilege on show, yet somehow not ostentatious to the viewer.

But where this mood creates distance and miscommunication between the characters of ABS, it brings the characters of CMBYN closer, creates warmth between them, bringing the viewer into Elio's extended family as easily as they welcome Oliver. The film is set over a summer in Northern Italy in 1983, and Guadagino skillfully captures the feeling of a slow, lazy summer pre-internet, where all there is for the teenaged main character, Elio (Timothée Chalamet), to do is lie around the pool swimming or reading, long family meals, piano practice or biking into town.  

Before I go any further, I have to discuss the opening credits, which go on for at least ten minutes and effortlessly set the tone for the casual opulence of the world of the film. Gentle, upbeat classical music plays over photos of classical sculptures - something that Elio's academic father and the grad student who he invites to work with him over the summer seem to be working in the field of - while the credits are written in a messy but elegant script, in a warm yellow shade. All of this somehow worked to already create the mood that pervades the rest of the film - casual wealth and intelligence, warmth and inclusion - before you even meet the Perlmans, and the beautiful villa they spend holidays in.

Some viewers might dislike watching films with wealthy people languishing in villas on holidays, but in the way that Guadagnino presents it, it's enchanting. I loved the feeling of seeing the easy, comfortable way the Perlmans (Elio's family) live on holiday, with their freshly made apricot juice and their family meals in a shaded grove. As I mentioned earlier, it creates a very welcoming vibe that helps you understand the mindset of the newcomer to this idyll, grad student Oliver (Armie Hammer).

The movie is really Chalamet's, and more on him below, but Hammer does quite well in a less showy role as Oliver - who has been invited to spend six weeks at an Italian villa working with an academic he seems to not have personally met before arriving. A great honour, clearly, but it's also awkward, and Hammer plays this slight dissonance well -  he's a non-European American (like the rest of the Perlmans) which is both exciting and awkward to the gathered family and friends of the Perlman. Hammer's Oliver is a lot of contrasts, both interested and scared/offended by Elio, both very confident towards him and very hesitant, both cool and dorky. Armie Hammer's being doing a few lower budget indie, and more off the wall projects since the Lone Ranger debacle didn't launch him into the leading man blockbuster stratosphere, and personally, I think he's much better in these than attempting to be another leading man type. (And for that matter, I am genuinely annoyed both he and Michael Stuhlbarg were passed over for Oscar noms, so they could give two to Three Billboards. It's not like Hammer would have got it, but I think he certainly deserved the nomination.)

As I said though, Chalamet is the standout - it's his story and he does a lot with it. His Elio is very reminiscent of the frustrating uncomfortableness of being a teenager - he's awkward, moody, bitter, cheeky, afraid, delicate and above all, real. What was beautiful about this film is how much everyone loves Elio - he's not always kind and good, but he is also a teenage boy - but his sexuality doesn't shut him off from other people. It's not an isolationist story, like a lot of queer film narratives are. While I can understand the urge to show that side of things, it's incredibly gratifying to see a film about a queer boy in the eighties, where if everyone doesn't know for certain they probably are aware of it in some respect, and they don't seem to care. They just love him, and Chalamet plays Elio's connections with everyone (not just Oliver) beautifully. He certainly deserves his Oscar nomination, even though he's not the favourite to win. He's also in the Oscar nominated Lady Bird, and my feeling is that (hot take alert) he's gonna be big.

Further from this, I love how tactile the characters in this film are. Elio is very cuddly and childlike sometimes with his parents, who are very affectionate to him - and no one tells him "a seventeen year old boy shouldn't do that" which is a blessing. He's very affectionate with the girls he's friends with. His later dynamic with Oliver - once they've admitted to feeling something  for each other - is very affectionate too, kind of awkward but in a sweet way. Not all their encounters are just these highly eroticised moments (which is not to say that none of them are). This makes their burgeoning relationship very real, like a seventeen year old boy fumbling his way toward a relationship that will always be meaningful, a first love more than just lust. Not that his dynamic with his sort-of girlfriend Marzia is unloving, just different, but no less sweet in its newness to the both of them.

On that note, I'm sure some people will say that there was a “lack of explicit sex scenes” in this movie. To that, I say PAH. It’s not like this movie is sanitised and sexless (hello, peach scene. yep.) It’s quite erotic in parts, quite good at conveying Elio's attraction to Oliver, and vice versa. But it feels like (unlike hetero love stories) that queer media is often all or nothing: either completely sexless, even affectionless even in a good relationship (Mitch and Cam on Modern Family didn’t even kiss on screen till like mid season two or three) or incredibly sexualised, and featuring intense sex scenes. This movie walks the rare line between the two - very affectionate (in private, natch) but allowing them the dignity of not being watched - as they always are, even by relatively benign eyes around them - in the moment of consummation. (For more on this - Jason Adams' delicate and moving review, Call Me With Kindness) It’s not even as though there are no on-screen sex acts in the film, either, so I'll say that I think it was a good, well-done balance.

If I had any slight problem with the narrative, it was that I found it hard to understand the progression of Elio and Oliver's relationship pre the mutual reveal of feelings - but that seemed to be a stylistic choice, and ABS was much the same, where the characters barely verbally communicated for a lot of the beginning arc of the film. It could be deliberately unclear- neither of them really know what the other thinks of them until they admit things together, while they're alone for once. Either way, it didn't much mar my enjoyment of their story which is emotional and complex but also very sweet.

The last thing I have to talk about is Michael Stuhlbarg, who is rapidly becoming one of my favourite actors (and who again, I am furious has not picked up any Oscar nominations for any of the great work he did in 2017). He was in two thirds of the films I saw recently, and he managed to be very moving in two small-ish roles. The scene where he tells Elio not to mock his friend and his male partner, that if he can be as knowledgeable as him and as good he'll be "a credit to him". Elio's father is a good man, and you can tell from this moment he doesn't care who Elio loves as long as he doesn't grow up boorish and ignorant. In fact, as much as the love story is engaging, my favourite scene of the file is when Elio and his father discuss Oliver after he has left. It was incredibly affecting to me - Elio's father doesn't come out and say he knew for certain about them, but refers to their "friendship" in the kindest, most respectful way, possibly even hinting about his own sexuality - not necessarily that he's closeted, but that he may have had an Oliver in his past he was too afraid to have anything happen with. Stuhlbarg is just so good, so affecting and plays really well off Chalamét, who allows Elio just the right amount of vulnerability and emotion.

Not to mention, Sufjan Stevens' two gorgeous original songs for the film, but I'll close this out by saying that there's a certain kind of idea about the kind of queer romance film that gets the Academy's attention - that it has to be sad, that the characters have to suffer and end up unhappy, and everyone can discuss how tragic it was. That sort of story is fine, because yes historically many LGBT people couldn't be open or take chances, and many did suffer. But that's not the only LGBT narrative to be told, even when set decades ago - and I'm thrilled to see films like 2016's Carol, 2017's Best Picture Winner Moonlight, and CMBYN tell a new kind of queer narrative where the characters are allowed to be happy even in an oppressive time, where the characters can break up and be miserable because of that (and not because of illness or bigoted violence), where the focus is just the love story. It gives me hope for the generation of younger LGBT viewers to see themselves outside of misery narratives.

4/5 stars

[inked-convulsion]

Part 3

Mark seemed to be in a pissy mood the next morning - she was woken by him banging everything around as he prepped for work. She usually got to sleep in a couple more hours before she had to get up, so this wake up call was not welcome... at all.

Disgruntled, she pushed herself up, partially fearing for another full day of cold wars and pissy accusations. He continued banging things, occasionally heaving deep sighs and giving her the side eye. This could go two ways: he either wanted her to ask what's wrong, or she was supposed to know what she had done wrong to provoke his wrath. And since she didn't know what the hell happened, given the pleasant dinner and sex the night before, she timidly asked what was wrong.

He heaved a deep sigh, lighting a cigarette in the middle of the bedroom (and getting the ashes everywhere for her to clean later), then gave her a stoic stare as he leaned against the frame of the door, his eyebrow slightly arched as though daring her to ask another stupid question. About 5 seconds which seemed like an eternity later, he took another puff and heaved another sigh punctuated with smoke, then started his little interrogation.

"Why is there a text from Brian in your phone?" he asked, in an almost threatening tone.

Her mind started to scramble.

What text? When? And how the fuck did he know?

She weighed her response carefully, resisting the urge to grab her phone and find that dang message. What she was most concerned about was, "did you go through my phone?"

"Why would you get a text so early in the morning?" he retorted, immediately recoiling into defense mode. "If you're not doing anything suspicious, why couldn't the text come at a later time?"

"What text when?!"

Her careful front was crumbling quickly into a puddle of frantic defense, guilt, and fear. She scrambled to her phone, then checked the aforementioned text.

"hey, some new teas came in today, want some?"

As if it could crumble even more, her shoulders felt so heavy. The immense disbelief that he was picking a fight with her over a question about tea was overwhelming. Among the many things that she and Brian could relate to were teas, and he had a knack of purchasing some interesting tea variations every now and then, and he would routinely reserve a few bags of each for her when every shipment arrived.

"You're upset..." she managed to croak, holding back sobs, "for this?"

"If he had nothing for you," he started to rage, waving the cigarette about and sprinkling ash over the sheets, "why would he need to text you if you wanted tea? What do you do over sharing tea? He couldn't have just left it at your desk at work? Or asked in the office chat? Why personal messaging? What have you been doing behind my back that he has to be so sneaky?"

She was in tears. "Because he's a friend who also likes tea! Because you get pissy if I respond to only his message in the office chat and if I don't reply to others'! Because I told him not to randomly leave teabags on my desk 'cause I don't want them to lose their flavor and I don't have suitable containers! And who the fuck gave you the right to go through my messages?"

"Why are you so defensive?" he accused. "If we're a real couple and you've nothing to hide, why are you upset that I went through your phone? My phone has always been open for you to go through. How many times have I told you that these guys want nothing but your body, and I can bet more than 100% that he faps to your pictures."

"Can you stop generalizing that every single man in the world are soulless sex machines?" she said in between sobs after he had stopped for another puff, flicking the cigarette butt into the bathroom and lighting another. "It's too early in the morning for this..."

"And not too early for him to text you?" he asked again, skeptically.

"Look," her impatience and anger was reaching a boiling point, "I didn't ask for him to text me on my phone. If you wanna know why the fuck he texted me on my fucking phone, then you ask him yourself. I don't fucking know. And this is about fucking TEA, for chrissake! And if you really were cheating, I wouldn't be able to find out by just scrolling your phone, can I? And even couples need personal space, I want someone to open my soul to, yes, but on my terms and not having them fucking flipping through my phone!"

"Why do you need personal space? I thought it was all or nothing..." he said, looking hurt.

"Because, I'm a fucking human. I already live with you, any time other than work, I'm spending all my time with you. How often do I go home to visit my family?"

"I told you to go home to visit them, you just didn't want to," he added loudly.

"And what happened during that time? I reply you a couple of minutes late then you start moping that I'm not giving you enough attention. I try to include you into the conversation by telling you what we talked about then you start talking shit about my family. Do you think I'd still put myself through that stress of having to be constantly stuck to my phone when things around me are happening?"

He changed the topic.

"Then tell me honestly," he said, flicking the other cigarette butt, "do you really feel nothing for him?"

He looked into her eyes as if he could see her true intentions in them, and sometimes she was actually afraid that he could.

"We're colleagues who are also friends. Why? Do you actually want something to happen between us?" she questioned, challenging his stare.

"Good," he concluded, "and I'm late for work."

Without another word, he just walked out. The day hadn't even started and she was already exhausted. Ash littered most of the bedroom, the cats starting to meow for breakfast. That encounter itself took up another hour of her already-short slumber, and with great dread she heaved herself out of bed and reached for the vacuum.

She was scrubbing the floors when a strange feeling started welling inside of her.

An impulse, if you will.

After putting the sheets in the washer, she started rummaging through the cupboards for boxes, bags, or anything that could hold large volumes. After gathering it all on the floor of the kitchen, she remembered something. Responding to Brian's text, she told him she won't be coming in for work. She then went through the house like a hurricane, wearing nothing but a tattered tee and her panties and blasting pop music.

The cats got a double portion of canned food, and while they nommed away delightfully, she purged the house of every single thing that Mark owned and stacked them beside the pile of boxes. It was decent pile of clothes, sundries, and useless accessories and gadgets, mostly already covered in a layer of grime and dust because he never bothered with cleaning, but was adamant that she didn't touch any of his belongings to avoid her "spoiling" them.

After replying Brian's questioning text with a cheeky response, she arranged to have all the locks of the house changed. She was running purely on adrenaline for now, both in fear that she will definitely die if she went through with this, and the excitement of finally taking charge of her life. She received the food (cheap but good beef noodles from that Chinese place 5 minutes away), pre-warned the cats about touching her food, then sat down beside the pile of purged belongings and started to sort through them. Anything that was his and not paid for by her, she put into a box.

Only 75% of the stuff made it into the box, including those that she decided to include out of goodwill, which were mostly clothes.

The other 25% percent, she sorted into donation, reselling, and trash piles, then put them into respective marked boxes.

She took the donation items and trash out on the way to do some grocery shopping for a dinner that she actually enjoyed for once. She occasionally felt pangs of guilt and fear of doing such a shitty thing, but she shook it off with the justification that he deserved every ounce of not paying for almost anything for the past couple of years. Heck, even the apartment was bought under her name.

As the cats lazed around in the early afternoon rays of sun filtering in through the windows, she started preparing for her dinner. She had turned off the music, savoring the sounds of food being prepared in the kitchen, the knife against the cutting board, the pop of a seasoning shaker lid, the clank of measuring equipment against the kitchen counter. All of this punctuated by the occasional sound of a car passing by, the periodic rumble of school buses and children screaming "bye"s and "see you tomorrow"s to each other, followed by the gentle clunking of the school bag that she could hear through the thin walls, soft conversations about their day being shared that travelled through the open windows.

She washed her hands and leaned on the kitchen counter facing the living after sticking her marinading meat into the fridge. The cats were taking full advantage of the suns rays before they would inevitably give way to dark clouds and thunderstorms later in the day - one of them lying with its face resting on its paw and its legs splayed out behind him; while the other was less elegant and had all fours in the air, its face the definition of ecstasy. She drank this in slowly - it's been a while since she last had the interest to be amused by her cats' antics. The one with its belly up stretched a little, cocking its head to one side, heaved a contented sigh and continued snoozing.

Then there was a sudden knock on the door. She froze. Her mind started racing, fearing that he may have come home early. She frantically thought of any excuse that she could use to explain why all his belongings were out of their storage. A few seconds later, the knock came again. Convincing herself it can't be him because he would have his keys, she put on a pair of shorts before opening the door. Through the peep hole - the locksmith.

She collapsed onto the floor in giggles, then caught her breath and opened the door. He looked middle-aged, slightly disgruntled, and barked orders to his assistant, a scrawny teenagar who desperately tried not to fuck up anything. She told him what she wanted done, and without question, he went to work, but not before he spotted the cats and approached them to pet them, a little smile forming on his face.

Much drilling, dismantling, and key assignments later, they left, the old man now cheery after a couple of beers and a lot of feline cuddling that she offered. The teen assistant also seemed quite pleased and amused that his mentor was so easily won over by cats.

She did a little more cleaning, took a shower, and tried texting Brian if he wanted dinner. She couldn't bring herself to throw herself onto another man just yet, regardless. She already felt cheap and used, to fall into his open embrace now would only verify her desperation for affection and security.

Remembering that she would like to take up cross-stitching again, she Googled the best place for affordable handicraft materials in town, then waited.

Carefully taking all that she needed in her tote, she put on a comfortable outfit, then placed the box with Mark's belongings right at the door about 15 minutes before he was due to be home. It was a Monday, and he usually restricted the bar visits to all other days except today. The cats were caged, just in case, then she drove her car out and parked it in the public lot some distance away from the apartment. She walked back to the park opposite the apartment door and waited behind some neatly pruned bushes.

This would either give her the best gratification, or she will literally die because of this. TBC