#para: 002

[paulcolms]

Paul was nervous.

Flying out to London had been a spur of the moment decision, wanting to support Daisy with her play before it came to a close and he missed out on the chance to see her do something she was clearly very passionate about. Had they talked about it beforehand? Not even a little bit and that was exactly why the nerves were eating at him. There was no denying that things were awkward between them at the moment, the tension forever present and reminding him of the rejection that he had faced with her. It should've been enough to drive him away and block her number, but Paul couldn't help himself. Even with the bitter taste in his mouth, he remained Daisy's number one fan. Every chance to talk about her was one he took, proudly bragging on the Gladiator 2 press tour about how much he adored her, subjecting Joseph to comparisons to the English actress every ten seconds.

Sitting in the very back of the theater, he watched the play in silence, standing to applaud when it came to a wrap, careful not to knock over the pile of roses on his lap. He had stopped in at a small flower shop beforehand, buying a bundle of red roses to present to the actress backstage afterwards, and that was exactly what he did. His eyes landed on Daisy and the smile was instant. "Hi." He greeted, hoping with everything in him that she didn't mind the surprise. He had missed his friend. "I know what you're thinking -- what the hell am I doing here? Couldn't help it. The play is ending so soon and I wanted to see it before it wrapped." Awkward pause, he presented the roses. "Bought these for you before I came. You were brilliant, Dais."

@daisyedgxrjones

[isabellahdid]

Bella didn't say a single word, reading over the text messages, grateful that he was letting her in instead of shutting her out. It had been so long that she really had no place to demand to know his business, but she couldn't help herself. Once she got involved with someone, no matter the history, she found herself constantly wanting to make sure they were okay. She was a lover and a worrier and it was bound to drive her to an early grave but it was who she was.

Wordlessly scrolling, she let the meaning of the words sink in, heart suddenly heavy for both Abel and Ayanna. The loss was unimaginable, making her eyes burn with tears she didn't dare shed, mourning for a stranger she never knew and the little girl she had just met only an hour before. Fuck.

Handing the phone back over, Bella leaned in close, arms wrapping around Abel's neck in a hug. Perhaps it was impulsive, the boundaries between them not yet drawn but it was all she could do in that moment. The hurt, nothing but a tiny flicker now, had faded and now she simply felt bad. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She mumbled as if the words would fix things, as if she had any reason to be sorry in the first place. She had to say something though, had to let him know that he wasn't alone in this. Only holding onto the male for a few seconds more, Bella untangled herself from him, a frown set deep on her lips.

"I .... wow. This is something right out of a movie." The chuckle that followed was dry, humorless. "I don't know what to say. You know I've always been shit with words - it's why you're the lyrical master between us, not me. But ... I'm here. Whatever you and Ayanna need, I got you, alright? I'm on your side, always."

There were countless ways Abel could’ve handled this. Sarcasm had always been his go-to, his shield when things got too real. He felt it creeping up even now—the urge to crack a joke, to diffuse the tension hanging thick in the room, maybe even to selfishly draw a reaction from Bella. But as his eyes met hers, he saw more than just confusion etched into her face. There was something deeper—a quiet hurt, simmering beneath the surface. For once, Abel took a breath, forcing himself to pause and think. He weighed his words carefully, something he rarely did. If the roles were reversed, if he were standing in her shoes, how would *he* feel? Probably torn apart by the idea of her moving on, building a life separate from the plans they once dreamed up together. That hit him harder than he expected, and with that realization, he knew sarcasm wasn’t going to cut it this time. She deserved more.

' It’s not what you probably think,' he murmured, his voice low but steady. His fingers found her arms, gentle but firm, guiding her back toward the living room. He made sure the door was cracked just enough to hear Ayanna if she stirred but closed enough to keep their voices from waking her. This wasn’t a conversation meant for little ears. “ Since when? ” Bella’s words echoed in his head, and despite himself, a sharp, almost incredulous laugh escaped his lips. The absurdity of it all was too much to keep bottled in. ' Literally since a month ago.' He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his face, trying to smooth the chaos in his mind. But where did he even begin? The story was tangled, messy, and still too fresh. His emotions hadn’t caught up with the reality of it all yet, and explaining it felt like unraveling a thread that led to a knot he barely learned how to untie.

So, instead of fumbling with words that felt inadequate, he reached for the easy escape—his phone. With a swipe, he pulled up the conversation with Theresa, Ayanna’s grandmother, and silently handed it to Bella. He hoped the texts would say the things he couldn’t, at least not yet. But even as she scrolled, his eyes never left hers. Those dark, searching eyes locked onto her face, reading every flicker of emotion that crossed it. Abel knew Bella—knew her heart. She was kindness incarnate, empathy in human form, and he clung to that, hoping it would carry them through this storm. Still, a knot of anxiety twisted in his chest. This was their first reunion in years, and the last thing he wanted was to let it spiral into something ugly.

But with them, nothing was ever simple. Their story was far from a smooth ride—it was more like being tossed into rapids, unpredictable and wild. And yet, here they were again, trying to navigate it together.

[phantomofinferno]

-> CONCEPTONECRO

a term for when someone identifies with the concept of necrophilia, but doesn't enjoy it or identify with it in practice.

more specifics under the cut.

examples:

fantasizing about the concept of having intercourse with a dead body; but finding disgust in the real action.

fictonecrophilia (this term wasn't necessarily made with it in mind, but it can apply).

preferring to engage in necrophilic sexual roleplay with a living partner instead of the real action.

those questioning their necrophilia; unsure of whether or not the term applies to them but are open to the concept of it.

[erenozkurt]

. ₊˚ ♡  eren özkurt asiste al festival de caridad.

[dianynn]

Dear Darling - Darling in the franxx🌹

* Capa para doação.

* Design: @dianynn 🌹

[wmu-cedes]

As much as she wanted to reprimand him for potentially being late for his glass again, she couldn't. It was a sweet gesture for him to have not only walked with her, but carried her bag. Mercedes wasn't about to chastise him for doing something out of the kindness of her heart, that'd be an asshole move. "I'll text you, now be good and don't make any dumb decisions on your way to class!" she called after him, shaking her head before turning to the rest of her class.

A few people gave her a knowing glance, but she ignored them. Even if talking to Cody would be painful, what with her feelings in the equation, she was willing to deal with it. Whatever friendship he was willing to give her meant more to her than whatever feelings she had towards him.

Gingerly, she took her seat and pulled out her laptop, ready to try and focus on her lecture.

"Nah, I know, but I wanted to," Cody replied. He glanced down at his left wrist to see he hands of his clock way past the time that he was due at class. "Yeah, best not be late again,'" he bluffed. Being on time was the last of his concerns. He knew he was going to be late to class the second that Mercedes opened up the door to him. Being faced with the reconnecting of their friendship was more than being on time for a class that sucked a new level of soul out of him. "Text me later, yeah?" His eyebrows raised, a slight nod gestured towards Mercedes before he rotated his torso to walk away. "Have the most fun," he whispered, looking around the room before jokingly winking towards her. "See ya, Cedes."

Cody began the commute to his class on the other side of the building. His history teacher was going to sign, sealed, delivered his own ass to him when he waltzed in late; however, he was unable to care at that moment in time. His mind was focused solely on how glad he actually was that he crashed into Mercedes door. The friendship would take a bit of work, and restricting his flirtatious-touchy behaviours, but that was nothing in the grand scheme of things if Mercedes was to be back in his life fully.

[mxvick]

                                 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 .

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ❝ sender pantomimes eating something, asking for receiver to get them something to eat .   ❞

                                     with @wantsallfab .

            *　  /　　o lobisomem saiu em uma missão para atender ao pedido da bruxa. não deveria ser uma tarefa difícil, mas acabou levando mais tempo do que esperava. perguntou-se várias vezes se ela gostaria daquilo sempre que se deparava com uma opção ou outra. deveria ter perguntado, obviamente. a solução foi pegar algumas opções diferentes e ver o que mais a agradaria. maverick retornou com espetinhos de churrasco, yakisoba, bolo de chocolate e torta de limão. " não disse se era doce ou salgado… " explicou-se, dispondo as opções à mesa, na frente dela. " coma o que quiser. mas posso buscar outra coisa, se preferir. "

[mir-iamwilde]

Hey, Dad, Look at me, Think Back and Talk to me, Did I Grow Up According to Plan? || Self Para

LOCATION: Midge's apartment.

TIMEFRAME: 10/24, evening.

WARNINGS: Violence, abuse, slut shaming, religion.

SUMMARY: Aaron shows up at Midge's apartment and he's not happy about the picture she sent him.

Midge had barely gotten in from class when she heard a loud knock at her door. Making her way to it, she probably should have looked to see who was there before opening it, but too late, because as she swung the door open, there was her father. Shoving it open faster and stepping inside before Midge even had the opportunity to process what was happening. She stepped back, fear radiating through her body. It wasn’t as if she didn’t expect Aaron to be upset with her, but she thought she would see him at the church, and he’d have to just lecture her under his breath when no one was around. The last thing she expected was for him to show up here. 

“Daddy?” She said, her voice shaking slightly, “What are you doing here? This is such a nice surprise.” Midge tried to sound pleased, hoping that maybe somehow she could get out of this with an apology and sweet demeanor. 

“Miriam, you know exactly why I’m here, it’s not a surprise.” He answered, his voice booming through her apartment as he closed the door behind himself, locking it with a loud click that made her jump. 

“I’m not sure, is something wrong?” She asked, afraid that if she admitted to knowing too easily that he’d know she had been trying to piss him off and would get angrier. 

“Do you want to tell me about this photo?” He asked, pulling his phone from his pocket and waving the screen in her face, the picture of her and Danny clear as day. Midge looked away, shame filling her, but Aaron’s fingers grabbed her jaw and yanked her focus back to the phone, “Do you know what I see? I see a whore, a whore in a low cut top, drinking booze and whoring herself out to a man who looks like he’s never prayed a day in his life. Is that what you see, Miriam? Do you see a whore?” 

The words stung, almost worse than the way his fingers were digging into her skin, but still she shook her head, pulling away from his grip but keeping her eyes on his phone this time, until finally looking up to meet his eyes. “Daddy, I’m sorry. It was that lockdown, it was just…I was scared and I wasn’t acting like mys-” She was cut off as his hand swept over her face, so quickly, her body spun around and she collapsed to the floor, before she even felt the pain of it burning into her flesh. Tears instantly welled up in her eyes, and her own hand flew up to her cheek. Her body shook from fear, pain and the tears as she gently felt her face, as if checking to make sure it was all still there. 

“Look at me, Miriam.” Her father said, but she couldn’t seem to move her body. “I said, look at me, Miriam.” Still she remained sitting on the floor facing away from him, her body frozen with fear and shock. Apparently, he felt he had waited long enough and suddenly a hand was grasping her hair and hauling her to her feet. Aaron shoved her against the door now, his hand wrapping around her throat. Midge’s eyes widened, he had never laid a hand on her before this, she knew he had hit Zach, and she hated thinking about it, but he had never hit her, and she didn’t know how far this was going to, she didn’t know how to act. 

She began to pull at his hand, trying to gasp for a breath, but there was no air. “You will NOT embarrass me, Miriam. Do you understand? You will not be an embarrassment to this family, ever again. You will dress modestly, you will BEHAVE modestly. Is that clear?” He said, his voice ice cold and all Midge could do was nod in agreement. He released her finally, and she fell to the floor again, gasping for air and then coughing as it filled her lungs and burned. She felt like she wanted to puke, the coughing so strong she was sure she would at any moment. Aaron grabbed her jaw again, harder this time and pulled her face to meet his again. “If you want to continue to behave like a whore, you better get used to this, because this is how whores get treated.” He let her go and a sob escaped her, “I’m sorry, Daddy.” She said, her voice raspy from both the coughing and the tears. “I’m not a whore, I promise. I won’t embarrass you again.” She said, hoping that this was over, that he would leave her to cry alone in her apartment. 

“Good. Now, get up. Respectable women do not sit on the kitchen floor crying. Get up, clean yourself up, and get started on dinner.” She looked up at him confused as he sat down on one of her kitchen chairs. 

“I didn’t have anything planned for dinner,” She said, her voice and body shaky as she stood from her spot, afraid to move any closer to him. 

“You have a guest, Miriam, you should always have something on hand to provide for your guests. I’ll be staying for dinner, and I am quite hungry, so please, don’t keep me waiting. Clean yourself up and begin cooking.” 

Midge moved quickly to the sink, turning on the cold water and getting her hands wet to wipe the tears from her face. Her face and throat ached and throbbed, but she couldn’t think about that now. She moved the water to hot, washed her hands, and then began pulling out pots to cook pasta for dinner. Terrified of any wrong move he might make in front of her father. She cooked quickly, and ate silently, though really she just moved food around her plate. When he was finished, she cleaned both their plates, and he watched as she cleaned the rest of the dishes and the kitchen, before finally standing and excusing himself for the night. “Goodnight, Miriam,” He said, giving her a hug that felt more like a reminder of the warning he’d given earlier. “I’m so glad we had this talk.” He added, before leaving through the same door he’d entered and shutting it behind him. 

[mconwrites]

// @postergrl

it’s second nature, the way he moves quickly to open up the passenger side door for her. ever the gentleman. and despite the fact they only parted ways a few hours ago, he still smiles like he hasn’t seen her in several weeks. because it doesn’t really matter, does it — how long it’s been ? there’s always the same happiness felt at being back in her presence. “ watch your step, ” he reminds her, one hand taking hers as the other rests on her back, an attempt to help her up into the jeep. content when she’s in safely, warm inside the heated space, he jogs round to take his place back behind the wheel. “ so… what have you been upto in the— what, six hours ? since I last saw you ? ” a hearty chuckle, eyes glancing from to road, to her, and back again. there’s something so wistful about the way the street lights illuminate her every time they pass one. a longing sigh escaping his mouth, confused as it meets his ears. it almost begs him to wake up and see the truth that’s right before his very eyes. a simple truth made up of four little letters: l o v e.

[oekonu]

gysellamorark:

Her dark gaze lingered on Konu as he began to speak, and she awaited a perfunctory expression of sympathy for her many losses. She had heard it often, and spoke it more often still to those islanders who wailed with grief as they had come to her father’s court. For Gysella, the worst of the mourning was well beyond her — greater injuries to her pride had been sustained in the wake of those losses, and it was that she contended with more often than the thought of her dead kin who had gone sick and suffering. She was privately relieved, then, when Konu offered no condolences for the losses that had befallen her and the others who hailed from the Golden Isles, and focused instead on her travels. A small smile returned to her face, which turned crooked with quiet amusement as he suggested that she was not a creature easily kept.

“I enjoy freedoms,” she replied, nodding her head in agreement with his estimation. “My father’s court is beautiful,” Gysella allowed, careful to enunciate her words as she discussed her father’s home, “but there is much beauty to be found outside of it.” Cayb was a not altogether unattractive region, she’d found. There was much of it she had yet to see: it was vast when compared to the compact and bustling cities of the Golden Islands, where much of nature had been torn down to give way to growing towns and villages. She did not know how keen Konu might have been on traveling, but she believed it important to see the lands that would be one day under their rule.

The sea was calm and pleasant as they walked the beach, and she inhaled a breath of salty air. “There is an island called Catoria,” she reflected, “where old Kings kept their courts before a grander keep could be constructed. A city thrives now around an old castle. I enjoyed it there very much.” Some claimed the ruined castle to be haunted, and youths dared one another to explore its halls. Gysella had done so herself, and found no ghosts to keep her company. “Are you happy in this part of your country?” She asked in kind, “are their beaches and birds elsewhere you prefer?”

Konu listened carefully to her description, wondering what he might be gleaning from her words. He wasn’t successfully gleaning anything, but he try his best to remember what she said and perhaps figure something out in the future based on what she said. She was, after all, going to be around for an awfully long time, if things went well. As they spoke, he guided her toward the shore, more by his own movements than by touch or words. Eventually, they reached a sort of stone path near the sand, which would be easier to walk on without dirtying her clothes. He didn’t know if she cared about that sort of thing; certainly, she was always impeccably well put-together whenever he saw her. But perhaps she was still concerned with impressions.

Catoria. He whispered the name under his breath, hoping to commit it to memory, or at least to be able to pronounce it right. It sounded nice enough, though his first instinct was to ask if the castle was haunted. Cayb holds similarly old places--forts in the eastern part of the country that predated the Eastern palace--and there were always rumors of ghosts and the like. The thought made him smile.

Her question, however, squashed that smile slightly. He didn’t want her to feel a burden, but he didn’t particularly want to lie either. “I grew up east of here.” His words came out slowly, more to buy him time to find the right ones than for her benefit. “It’s farther from the coast; no beaches at all, really.” It was hard to say how she would take the last part, but in the end, the desire for transparency won out. “I chose to meet you here because I thought it might be easier. It’s not an island but...” He’d been watching her while they were speaking, trying to pay attention to what she was saying, but now he turned out, toward the waves. “Those are goshawks.” He pointed to one of the birds, not wanting to linger on a topic that made him uncomfortable. The birds were large, loud things soaring over the water. “They’re mean and aggressive, and not at all afraid of humans.”

gysellamorark:

Her dark gaze lingered on Konu as he began to speak, and she awaited a perfunctory expression of sympathy for her many losses. She had heard it often, and spoke it more often still to those islanders who wailed with grief as they had come to her father’s court. For Gysella, the worst of the mourning was well beyond her — greater injuries to her pride had been sustained in the wake of those losses, and it was that she contended with more often than the thought of her dead kin who had gone sick and suffering. She was privately relieved, then, when Konu offered no condolences for the losses that had befallen her and the others who hailed from the Golden Isles, and focused instead on her travels. A small smile returned to her face, which turned crooked with quiet amusement as he suggested that she was not a creature easily kept.

“I enjoy freedoms,” she replied, nodding her head in agreement with his estimation. “My father’s court is beautiful,” Gysella allowed, careful to enunciate her words as she discussed her father’s home, “but there is much beauty to be found outside of it.” Cayb was a not altogether unattractive region, she’d found. There was much of it she had yet to see: it was vast when compared to the compact and bustling cities of the Golden Islands, where much of nature had been torn down to give way to growing towns and villages. She did not know how keen Konu might have been on traveling, but she believed it important to see the lands that would be one day under their rule.

The sea was calm and pleasant as they walked the beach, and she inhaled a breath of salty air. “There is an island called Catoria,” she reflected, “where old Kings kept their courts before a grander keep could be constructed. A city thrives now around an old castle. I enjoyed it there very much.” Some claimed the ruined castle to be haunted, and youths dared one another to explore its halls. Gysella had done so herself, and found no ghosts to keep her company. “Are you happy in this part of your country?” She asked in kind, “are their beaches and birds elsewhere you prefer?”

Konu listened carefully to her description, wondering what he might be gleaning from her words. He wasn’t successfully gleaning anything, but he try his best to remember what she said and perhaps figure something out in the future based on what she said. She was, after all, going to be around for an awfully long time, if things went well. As they spoke, he guided her toward the shore, more by his own movements than by touch or words. Eventually, they reached a sort of stone path near the sand, which would be easier to walk on without dirtying her clothes. He didn’t know if she cared about that sort of thing; certainly, she was always impeccably well put-together whenever he saw her. But perhaps she was still concerned with impressions.

Catoria. He whispered the name under his breath, hoping to commit it to memory, or at least to be able to pronounce it right. It sounded nice enough, though his first instinct was to ask if the castle was haunted. Cayb holds similarly old places--forts in the eastern part of the country that predated the Eastern palace--and there were always rumors of ghosts and the like. The thought made him smile.

Her question, however, squashed that smile slightly. He didn’t want her to feel a burden, but he didn’t particularly want to lie either. “I grew up east of here.” His words came out slowly, more to buy him time to find the right ones than for her benefit. “It’s farther from the coast; no beaches at all, really.” It was hard to say how she would take the last part, but in the end, the desire for transparency won out. “I chose to meet you here because I thought it might be easier. It’s not an island but...” He’d been watching her while they were speaking, trying to pay attention to what she was saying, but now he turned out, toward the waves. “Those are goshawks.” He pointed to one of the birds, not wanting to linger on a topic that made him uncomfortable. The birds were large, loud things soaring over the water. “They’re mean and aggressive, and not at all afraid of humans.”

[evelayton]

Starter for: @genortiz

Eve could've gone to Toni about this as well, but it felt right to go over to her sister with it first. She knew the people in this town a lot better and the blonde also wanted to know what Gen would be able to tell her about who Levi was exactly. She trusted her sister's judge of character. And besides that - this was another chance of bonding with Gen as well.

So that was how the two of them had met up at the restaurant for dinner and a well needed night of gossiping. Eve raised the glass of wine that had been placed in front of them by the waitress who had just walked away. They were seated in a quiet corner of the restaurant, nobody around to hear them talk.

"Here's to a night of gossip, I guess."

[everywordisstraightfrommyheart]

✩ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴅ ⨾ @hxppybxtch (Ji-Eun) ✩ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ⨾ Namsam Coffee (Jung-gu, Seoul)

"우리는 언제 운명을 부여하기 시작할 예정입니까?" When are we going to start giving fate it's due?

Ji-Ho didn't realize he'd spoken until he saw the woman in front of him slowly pivot on her heels, her features coming into focus. He'd known from when he joined the line, it was her that stood directly in front of him. Ji-Eun. Yet, whenever he thought of her his chest became restrictive and his heart roared. This instance was no different. He glanced behind him for his secretary but she hadn't yet made her into the cafe. Which was for the best, he supposed. At the office, he was the reclusive and cold CEO. He'd perfected the art of keeping everyone at arms length. It worked. People seemed to be the biggest disappointments and he saved himself whenever he lowed his expectations.

"어떻게 도와 드릴까요?" How can I help you? The barista asked with a friendly enough smile. "It's your turn, Eunnie," Her nickname felt both foreign and reminiscent on his tongue. Similar to that of a salty yet sweet treat packed into a bite-size dessert. A part of him felt giddy in her presence. The other felt shame and guilt. They'd only spoken a total of two times since the day they'd ran into each other randomly. However, he still felt undeserving. Years passed and this feeling was burrowed deep within his heart.

Why should she give him the time of day now? He wasn't a constance in her life anymore. He was the past like yesterday or the many yesterday's before then. No longer was he the center of her world. Before he would never have thought of constants and time but now that's all he pondered.

[romanrhodes]

where: Rhodes Farm, Hawthorne Hideaway with: Roman Rhodes ( self-para ) when: April 15th 2024

The parcel had been misleading, it had caught him off guard. Roman had ordered a new camera for the incubator, in the run-up to hatching another batch of chickens to increase the farm's egg productivity. So when a box roughly the size of a small wireless camera had come to the farm, with the farm's address with no name, he assumed it for him.

Instead, he opened the box to find another box, and he recognised the brand immediately. His stomach dropped, and he knew he should leave it alone, but his curiosity burned inside him. He opened the box of hard, top-quality cardboard in dark, dark blue and gold lettering. Inside was another box of velvet, in royal blue. He popped it open, and a beautiful watch Roman immediately recognised stared back at him, unmoving. A white face with gold hands, numbers, metal, and a dark brown leather strap. Inside the face were three smaller faces for the day of the week, the day of the month, and the month of the year. In the face of the months, there was a horizon, that would change with the time of day from a glorious, tiny golden sun to a rich blue sky with tiny golden stars.

It was beautiful, and it was at least $300 and Roman knew exactly who had bought it for him.

His hands were shaking as he reached out and pulled out the watch. The leather was soft and the metal was cool and glinting in the morning light of the kitchen. Roman let out a shaking breath, realising this was probably his birthday present. He slowly turned the watch over to admire it, and the engraving on the back caught his eye.

"Our Time Together Is Just Never Quite Enough." - Andrew The air left his lungs, and he choked. His eyes stung and his vision blurred as he read the words again and again. A pained laugh bubbled up out of his throat, shocking him, appalling him. God had a really mean sense of humour.

He lowered the watch, putting his hand over his eyes, breathing as deeply as he could until they didn't shake or catch in his throat. He brushed away the tears that escaped. The feelings were too much, and he couldn't do this right now, he had to go to work, he had things to do. So he took the hot, acidic feelings, the gaping hole opening up inside him and underneath his feet, and forced it closed, forced them into a box, and shoved them away. He would deal with them later, he would open it later, in a safe space where he could feel them fully and cry like the pathetic, hot mess he felt like when he was alone.

He took the watch, did his best not to look at it while he put it back in the velvet box, put that back in the expensive cardboard box, and closed the parcel. He took it and left it in his office, to deal with later, away from the rest of the house.

Then he went back to the kitchen, through to the mudroom and the front door. He put on his coat, and his shoes, grabbed his bag, and went to work.

[wmucody]

para 002 : cody & frannie.

Cody ran his hair through his soft hair for what seemed like the sixteenth time. There was a small cowlick that couldn't help but stick up no matter what way he brushed his hair. Rumbling through his toiletries bag beneath him, he pulled out his hair product and lightly tapped the powder into his hair, manoeuvring each strand with precision so it was sitting perfect for drinks with Frannie.

He stood confidently in front of the mirror. Now that his hair was sorted, he was ready to take on the drinking world with someone who had quite literally captivated him recently. Something that was rare for the man. His eyes ran over his outfit to ensure no specs of dust or fuzz gathering. He picked out a pair of his finest, casual loafers complimented with tailored black trousers, with a beige shirt not fully buttoned. A slight hint of his chest and collar bones were exposed.

Cody had never been invited to someone else's father gathering before. Of course when he was younger he attended his friend's birthday parties but he was never accompanying someone to a family party as their date? Was it a date? He had hoped so. The connection was growing deeper between Cody and Frannie. Something that quite frankly frightened him however the enjoyment overshadowed the fear so far. It was an honour to be here. She could have picked anyone but here he was, in one of the Fabray's spare rooms, amazed at the size. He had grown up in a nice, big family home however it was nothing compared to this.

Closing his room door, Cody headed towards Frannie's door. The route already implemented in his head. They had agreed in the car over when the coast was clear he would sneak to her room. Silently as not to awake any Fabray's. Pissing off her family really wasn't the overall impression he was trying to make. Arriving at the bedroom door, Cody cleared his throat before knocking modestly. "Frannie?" He asked, making his presence known before he walked into the other's room. "I'm ready."

@wmufranniefabray

[lgchyunhee]

╰ ☆ ABRACADABRA, ALAKAZAM! EPISODE 002

with @lgcamelia | REFERENCE [ ♡ ]

hyunhee is feeling energized after the first iteration of her youtube show. she loves being able to show off this hidden talent of hers, confusing the guests and the audience. for the most part, it’s all showmanship. of course there’s not real magic involved, just good misdirection and strategic camera angles. 

her next guest is someone she hasn’t since since they made their debut under the agency’s sub-label, amelia. it’s been longer than that, in fact, since the last time the two really spoke was during halloween when they were running after a certain wizard and trying to capture his picture. hyunhee’s excited to reconnect with the girl, but she’s excited for quite literally everything. there’s a brief moment for the two to get situated before the camera begins rolling. 

“welcome to the second episode of abracadabra, alakazam! it’s your humble host here, han hyunhee,” she gives herself a cheeky round of applause. “today’s guest is a special one, zheng amelia,” hyunhee claps once again for the other girl, leaving a pause afterwards so the model can introduce herself . “it’s a wonder i was able to get you here, with how busy your schedule is nowadays.” 

[mperosx]

Stretched Thin || Writing Challenge 002

{{ I kind of like these little monthly prompts! Self care is the theme and I have to say that while writing the entries for my muses I realized how little self care I give myself. I gotta work on that! I wish I had more time for yoga personally as it seems relaxing when you can really get in the zone of it. I don’t sadly! }}

   —*

There’s something decidedly humbling about being a whole deity in a yoga class. Eros sits on his designated mat and steadies his breathing out as he listens to the instructor, mentally trying to silence the cacophony of racers regarding love out of his head. It’s a feat that never really works out in the same way that those who can quiet their thoughts enough to engage in yoga do, but he does his best. He sort of envies other gods whose powers don’t operate the same ways as his for what he thinks is a slightly less troublesome time with the prayers of others. Perhaps they don’t hear them the same way.

   He inhales.

   The instructor says something else and he rounds his back to lean forward on the exhale. Perhaps…Eros thinks suddenly, they might hear the prayers louder or with greater frequency than he does. He takes hold of his ankle and breathes again as his mind worries over the thought of it. Perhaps they, like him, are always trying to find a bit of respite from it. A thought to encourage them to yoga passes through his mind and he exhales reaching for his other ankle.

   “Soften the neck, soften the jaw,” the instructor says as they pass between other quiet participants. Eros tries to deepen his calm and finds that more thoughts come. Yoga with a mind that is constantly thinking about things is exceptionally hard! Resigning himself slightly that this might just be how he relaxes - by calmly sorting things out in his mind - he follows the others as they sit up once again.

   Following the pace of the class Eros keeps trying to find the grounding energy he needs as his thoughts start to pass a little more slowly. It’s toward the end of the class when they’re laying in savasana that his mind finally gives him that feeling that he was seeking. It’s quick and when it hits all it makes him realize is that while his mind may always be busy, he finds that maybe that’s just as well. When he’s thinking he’s finding little pockets of happiness in his thoughts at least.