#the new manual of yoga

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

Karen Ross - The New Manual of YOGA - W. Foulsham - 1973

[httpsserene]

Gosh please please please can you write something daniel x reader maybe inspired by too sweet by hozier when he thinks(some internal turmoil cuz he can't stay away from her) she's too sweet/innocent for him or something like but it turns out to be further from the truth?? I love love love your writing, i think about please's and thank you's at least three times a day since i read it. You're so immensely talented!!!

I'd really really appreciate it.

(i don't mind age gap(like up to 10years), some kinky smut or even a bit of morally grey characters as long as there are no explicit mentions of past relationships or cheating and etc., happy ending plss, and I won't mind if you add a pinch of "who did this to you")

Ly ly ly

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐓𝐒𝐀

Summary: She’s too pure for him. She hasn’t been damaged by life like he has and he hopes you never will be. So, that’s why Daniel can never allow himself to be with her. He knows she’s convinced herself that she can fix him, but he knows that the longer he sticks around, the more he’s ruining her. He finds it cynical: their relationship (or lack of a relationship) reads like one of the books she’s obsessed with: right person wrong time or forbidden love. Daniel learns that it might be a little darker of a trope—like one of her books that she never allows him to see a page of. Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. implied sexual content. mild!yandere!reader. stalking. sabotage. angst with a happy ending. lando and max are here. not edited at all. mentioned alcoholism. pov switch. fights? idk danny gets his ass beat. possessive!reader. can you find the hozier inspo in here? probably. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader (black-coded? but not mentioned in the fic, i think) Word Count: 2.7k words.

Author’s Notes: okay! this is past me (6/11) hoping that the tumblr queue doesn’t do me dirty! this should be posted on thursday, because i won’t be able to manually post it on my own as i’ll be hiking in san diego the whole day :p

this was formatted on mobile so please ignore how ugly it looks :( and also ignore the ugly writing i’ve never written dark/morally gray characters so i’m pretty sure i did your request like terribly LMAO. um also i couldn’t find a way to write smut into it? so again i apologize for that :/

anyways, please bare with me. i’ll make it pretty when i get back to my computer…on sunday 🥴

prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

Daniel meets you in the elevator. At first, he thought you were a Formula One fan who snuck into the condo trying to get a glimpse of your favorite driver (himself, obviously) but, he learned that you’re his new next-door neighbor. It was awkward; he accused you of following him to his room and felt like the world’s worst person when you—dressed in the cutest pink dress and matching flowy bow tied in your hair—stared at him terrified, before you unlocked the door to your flat and slammed the door behind you quickly without a word.

He sent you a bouquet of pink orchids the next morning, along with a hand written card apologizing for his rude behavior and that he hoped the two of you could become good neighbors and friends. It seemed all was fixed, as the next time he ran into you, you greeted him softly, like nothing had happened. It was 5 A.M: you were starting your day and Daniel was ending his night.

Daniel was on his third drunken attempt of shoving his key vaguely in the direction of his lock on the door, when you exited your flat with a yoga mat over your shoulder and a water bottle that was comically large. With a hushed ‘good morning,’ you kindly helped Daniel into his apartment, telling him to drink a big glass of water and have pain killers ready when he wakes up; there was no judgment in your wide brown eyes, only tenderness, and a slight hint of worry. He woke up after twelve at the sound of a knock, his head pulsing with pressure and his sight slightly blurry from not quite sleeping all the drunk away.

He eventually made it to his front door and found that you ordered him lunch: a chicken wrap and sweet potato chips, from one of his favorite brunch cafés—Daniel figured you have good taste, as he doesn’t recall ever telling you about this meal in either of the two interactions you’ve had. So, he ate, drank plenty of water, freshened up, and debated if he should go over and express his gratitude, or whatever. He decided he will, and found himself putting on a nice watch and a few too many sprays of his expensive smelling cologne. Daniel didn’t let any thoughts of why he was prettying himself up cross his mind; he’s simply thanking you; a girl far too young, and probably far too sweet for his tastes.

You brushed off his thanks shyly, hidden behind your door with a blush strong enough Daniel saw it paint your dimpled cheeks and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away. Thinking quick enough to rival his reflexes, he offered to exchange phone numbers so the two of you could meet up and he could buy you a coffee. You entered your name in his phone with a yellow heart next to it.

The coffee meet-up had to wait due to Daniel’s hectic schedule, yet the texting flourished. He initiated the beginning of your text thread the next day, mindlessly texting you about how he overheard Emilio (another neighbor) arguing with his wife on the phone; Daniel said she’s probably going to mail him divorce papers within the next week. You replied that it was mean to eavesdrop and gossip. Daniel followed up saying it’s not eavesdropping if said person was screaming into his phone in the hallway, and he wasn’t gossiping, he’s merely keeping you informed.

Daniel laughed in the middle of his motorhome listening to the voice message you sent four days later, eagerly telling him about how you saw Emilio in the lobby with a couple boxes and without a wedding ring on his finger.

It was a warm morning, when you and Daniel finally managed to meet for coffee. You scrunched your nose in distaste when he ordered plain black coffee; Daniel did the same when you ordered a drink that was mainly milk and sugar. Daniel chuckled when you claimed the amount of coffee in your drink had you wired for the rest of the day. He decided to let you believe that, and not inform you that it was most likely the sugar content that had you crashing hours later.

Daniel invited you over for burgers one night and you comment that his home looks like a mix of a “mojo dojo casa house” and a “minimalistic hell.” You gifted him a throw blanket and a potted plant the next day, and continued to text him reminders about watering it.

Around 10 P.M. on another night, he’s yelling at Max for cheating at fifa. Max laughed around the lip of his beer bottle before the two of them paused at the sound of a knock. Daniel checked the door and opened it to see you: fuzzy slippers, eye-mask on your forehead, bonnet, matching pajama set, and pout on your lips with a sleepy tilt to your eyebrows. He apologized for the noise and promised to quiet down. Daniel threatened to kick the Dutchman out when he teased him for having a “crush.” He doesn’t get crushes, he’s a grown man.

Daniel spends less time in night clubs and more time with you. You took him to sip and paint nights, pottery classes, hiking, even bookstores. You order him to not open any of the books he’s holding for you; Daniel tries to take a peek when you scan through one and you slam the book shut, saying it’s too dark for your liking. He doesn’t comment when you end up getting it (Daniel paid).

He kissed you in your apartment, halfway through Howl’s Moving Castle. He proceeded to tell you it was a mistake. You teared up when he said you were too pure for him, arguing back that you weren’t a child. The tears fell when Daniel claimed he’s too old for you, that he’d only hurt you. He returned to his apartment, figurative tail tucked between his legs, and heard you crying through the wall. He fell asleep hating himself.

Daniel distanced himself from you; he misses your shared adventures and condo gossip, but he never forgets to water your potted plant, even without your texts. He fell back into the clubs, bringing home various women but never manages to get them in bed due to various things going wrong. He gets stuck in the elevator with Stephanie who happened to claustrophobic for hours, locked in the stairwell with Sofia who sprains her ankle in five-inch heels, the fire-alarm interrupts him and Kiana just as he unlocks the door, and his kitchen sink burst when he lifted Laura on the counter.

He tries to console Laura, who runs from his flat in drenched clothes, and sees you staring at her in confusion from your doorway as she rushes past. Daniel apologizes for waking you again, and you shrug, ignoring his words, murmuring that he should call maintenance before he floods the entire floor and shutting your door in his face.

Your potted plant starts to wilt, no matter if Daniel moves it in or out of direct sunlight, if he waters it less or more, or if he changes the soil, or adds fertilizer. The universe has it out for Daniel.

He finds himself in an ultra-private lounge, dim-lighting, sultry piano, and dark decor enhancing his dramatics as he reveals how he ruined his life to Max, Lando, and the bartender who will be tipped handsomely for pretending to care. The piano fades to the end of the piece just as Daniel wraps up his lament.

“It sounds like you deserve it, honestly,” Max stated bluntly, Lando nodding agreeably at his side.

Daniel groans into his hands, lifting his head to say that he’s already aware of that, but freezes when he sees you rise from the seat of the piano. Your figure is snug within a floor length, backless, black dress, complemented with gold jewelry, and makeup that opposes your angelic nature. You bow your head slightly in the direction of the tables clapping at your performance, stumbling briefly when your eyes meet Daniel’s. You smile softly and begin to make your way over to him.

“Oh, fuck,” Daniel shrinks into his seat, as the other two drivers stare at him in confusion.

“Hi, neighbor,” you start airily, before turning to smile at Lando and Max, “Hello.”

“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” Daniel mentions.

“You never asked,” you narrow your eyes at him, before relaxing, “I also don’t work here—this is my brother’s bar. The pianist suddenly fell sick and I offered to fill in.”

“Oh,” Daniel hums, “This doesn’t seem like your type of scene.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, “You should know better than to tell me where, what, or who I do or do not belong with.”

“Okay!” Lando claps, kicking Daniel’s shin under the table, everyone ignores his muffled groan of pain, “Sit with us for a minute, if you can take a break. Danny is seriously obsessed with you.”

You take the offered chair next to Max and sigh, “Really? I couldn’t tell,” all three men wince at your dig, but you continue, “Did he tell you that he almost flooded the entire floor last week?”

Daniel watches as you charm his friends, the three of you chattering happily over his demise, and ignoring him as you do so. He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed, only thankful, as this is the first time in weeks that you’ve been in his presence for more than five minutes. You smell so good. Is that weird of Daniel to think?

Unfortunately, the four of you are interrupted far too soon. Your brother calls you over from behind the bar; his expression is less than pleased, jaw tensed with irritation, and Daniel thinks the look in his eyes has a hint of crazy. He wonders if you told your brother about him. Hopefully not—the man looks like he could fold Daniel like a lawn chair without breaking a sweat. The three men watch as you argue with your brother; it doesn’t seem like it’s going in your favor.

Lando calls Daniel’s name, “Mate—she’s good for you.”

“Nah, mate. I’ll only ruin her.”

“Daniel,” Max scolds, “The few months you were ditching us for her were the happiest I’ve seen you. I wasn’t worried that you would be passed out in a random club or yacht after giving yourself alcohol poisoning.”

“She’s sweet, Danny. I think she’s exactly what you need,” Lando adds, “You've convinced yourself that you don’t deserve anything good. She’s trying to prove you wrong and you need to let her.”

He doesn’t answer verbally, he chooses to shake his head and remain silent. You make your way over to the table again and stand in front of them with a pout.

“It’s past my bedtime, apparently,” you huff, turning your head to glare at your brother, “Don’t worry about paying tonight, it’s on the house.” You exchange polite goodbyes with Lando and Max, Daniel gets a soft smile. He watches you leave the bar with a sad tilt to his lips, then orders a shot of whiskey.

You’re sat on your couch, freshly showered and ready for bed. It’s 1 A.M. and Daniel usually doesn’t end his nights out for another hour. So, it makes sense for you to be worried when you see his location nearing your shared condo building an hour early. Did you sneakily (his phone password is his birthday, it wasn’t that hard) use his phone and share his own location with you? Yes. But, you did it with good intentions. You worry about him when he’s not with you.

You decide to go down to the lobby and pretend to ask if you received any packages in hopes of intercepting Daniel when he walks in. You don’t manage to step out of the elevator when you suddenly have an armful of a bruised-up Australian. His lip is busted and you can see a bruise blooming high on his right cheekbone. You start to shake with anger.

Furiously pressing the button of your floor and slamming the ‘close door’ button, you frantically question Daniel, “What the hell? I left you not even two hours ago, and you look like a mess. Did you get into a fight, did you get mugged, did you—“

“Did your brother beat my ass for hurting you?” Daniel groans, not fighting your motions as you tug him out of the elevator and into your flat, “Yes, he did.”

You pause and grumble angrily, forcing Daniel to take a seat on your couch. You rush into your kitchen for ice, then to the bathroom for a first aid kit. He doesn’t fight when you order him to ice his cheek, and lets you hold his face to tilt his head at every angle possible, as if it’ll expose any more damage. Eventually, you end up looking into his eyes, pretending that you have the knowledge to know what a possible concussion looks like, even though you really just wanted an excuse to look at him.

Unconsciously, your thumb rubs soothingly along his temple, Daniel leans further into your hand. His tongue flicks out for a brief second, and he flinches when it disturbs the cut on his bottom lip. Blinking rapidly, you clear the haze from your eyes and frown as you turn to rifle through the first aid kit.

“I can’t believe he put his hands on you,” you bite out angrily, finding a disinfectant cloth to clean his lip, “I don’t know why I tell him anything anymore.”

Daniel winces at the sting of alcohol, remaining quiet as he watches the focus that covers your expression.

“I apologize for him,” you mumble, “He doesn’t think clearly when it comes to me, he thinks he’s like my guard dog or something,” you dispose of the wipe and grab an ointment, “I promise you I told him that the only thing you did was waste my time and hurt my feelings,” Daniel deflates under your hands, “It’s not like you physically hurt me…or anything. He’s just an idiot. I’ll kill him.”

At that, Daniel laughs quietly, dropping the ice from his cheek so you can clean that too, “Don’t say that. You’re such a sweetheart, you couldn’t hurt your own brother. Also—I’m not sure if he hoped this would make me stay away from you, because if you keep rubbing my face like that, I might fall in love.”

You hum, pleased you have him eating out of the palm of your hand, “Have some decorum, Daniel. You sound desperate. Also, he knows that I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“Oh? You’re possessive,” Daniel teases, “Is it bad if I kinda like that?”

Your heart flutters, he’s really the best for you. He doesn’t need to know about the lengths you went to ensure any of the girls he tried to bring home didn't make it into his bed. It's a shame Sofia sprained her ankle; that was not intentional on your part.

You shrug lightly, “No, it’s not bad. I think it makes you perfect for me. As long as you don’t mind a little crazy. And—don’t think you’re off the hook. You still have to apologize for making me cry.”

Daniel nods seriously, “I’ll fall to my knees and beg right now, if that’s what it takes.”

Sticking a plaster over his cheek, you stand and gesture for him to do so too, “Okay. Kneel.”

“Huh,” he chokes, eyes wide with disbelief, “You’re serious?”

“If you beg well enough, I’ll let you eat me out.”

The sound of his knees hitting the floor echoes.

2k special taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @mindless-rock @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @riveristhebest1 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @lh383 @hiireadstuff @namgification @gg-trini @whatamidoingwithmylife-random @multi-fandom-rando @dreamingofautopia @megatrilss1885 @nanamilkbread @userlandonorris @starfusionsworld @hangmandruigandmav @itsmiamalfoy @ineedafictionalman @everythingabby101 @valent1na-ferrari @dark-night-sky-99 @svinzlec @angelfreckless @sweatrevenge5436-blog @bokutos-babyowl @oliviah-25

© httpsserene2024

[moonchild033]

🧊❄️YASHI'S MASTERLIST ❄️🧊

About Myself and The Blog

Manual Drawing of Divisional Charts: A Beginner's Guide

Excerpts from Old Astro Books

Random Astro Observations

Astro Observations -2

Astro Observations -3

Astro Observations-4

Astro Observations-5

Astro Observations-6

Vedic Placements and Evil Eyes

Past, Present and Future Karma Predictions by Saturn Aspects - Introductory Post

Saturn Aspects and it's Related Karma-Part 1

Saturn Aspects and it's Related Karma-Part 2

D6 Chart: Dissection of 6H

Few Indicators of Past Life Partners in Birth Chart

Indicators of Having Twin Babies

Pushkara Navamsa- A Hidden Gem in D9 Chart

Indicators of Having S*x before Marriage

Rahu-Ketu Dosha and Marriage

Rahu Mahadasha and Weddings

Business and Vedic chart Placements

Some Interesting Vedic Astro Stuff

Moon in the Houses (Part-1)

Moon in the Houses (Part-2)

5H placements and it's related notes

5H pregnancy and children

Agricultural Astrology

Aswini Nakshatra

Saturn in Water Signs

Jupiter-Saturn Conjunction/Aspects: A voice for social causes

Indicators of Marrying within the Extended Family

7H in Birth Chart: Enemies or Lovers?

Rahu in 5H and a Woman's Marriage Plight

Rahu/Ketu stars and The Air/Fire Signs: A Philosophical Perspective

Few Important Factors considered in Marriage Match Making according to Vedic Astrology

Moon signs and lucky colors

Mediocre or Way too good Vedic chart?

Sun in 9H

Names of Solar and Lunar Yogas

Dharma Karmadhipati Yoga

Neecha Bhanga Raj Yoga

Pancha Mahapurusha Yogas- Part 1

Pancha Mahapurusha Yogas- Part 2

❄️ASKS❄️

NOTE: Avoid sending 'asks' abt multiple placements or any detailed asks, I might choose to answer only if it interests me and is short. I answer long ones only if I find it to be unique🩵

Shravana Moon in 5H

Placements that indicate a non-religious personality

D1 and D9 chart

Rahu-Ketu (1-7 axis) in Bhavottama

Multiple personal placements-1

Multiple personal placements-2

Nakshatra Exchange

Others- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Random asks-1,2

New Blog Announcement

Divider credits: @saradika-graphics, @dollywons

Header credits: @saradika-graphics

[cobaltperun]

Eternal Flame (13) - Black Friday

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: For her it’s a passion, for you it’s an accident. And as she continues shining brighter and brighter with each role you are left mesmerized, drawn to her flame and cherishing every time she lets herself be vulnerable with you.

Spotify playlist

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next Part

Word Count: 5.7k

-I wanna be happy, could you show me how it's done?-

When Hugh took you to Ethiopia you didn't think you would be spending half the day raking leaves with him. “I thought we were on a vacation,” you said roughly four hours into the manual labor he's been putting you through. Granted, he was right there with you, doing the same thing, so at least that made it fair to an extent. His kids and wife smartly avoided this activity and were in a warm house, drinking coffee and getting to know the locals.

“No harm in some work,” Hugh figured, getting up and wincing as he straightened his back. Oh yeah, he was several decades older than, you frankly you were almost sorry for him right now. “We'll sleep a lot better tonight.”

You did have troubles sleeping, so maybe that’s what he was trying to do.

“Yeah, that's right. Keep finding the positive in everything. I’ll ask you what you think tomorrow, when it turns out that your back is hurting, because you couldn't let a twenty-year-old do a better job than you,” and stupidly you got competitive as well. At least you did things a lot faster since you both wanted to see which one of you could do the job faster and better. As it turns out, being young did have advantages in this particular situation.

“I let you win,” he said as he leaned on the rake, but not too hard though, as you were both afraid that leaning on them properly might make them snap, and that would be an embarrassing way to fall to the ground.

You rolled your eyes, amused by his refusal to accept loss with grace. “So, what's really the point of all this? You've had me working, had me meditating, hell, nearly roped me into doing yoga with you. Come on, spill it,” you said once you began making your way back to the shed to leave the raked before going back to where Deb and Hugh’s kids were.

“You really should try yoga though,” he was trying to change the subject, to avoid answering your question and you just turned to face him, meeting his eyes and just studying him for a moment. And then he slumped slightly, giving in to your silent demand. “I'm trying to keep you occupied, I guess, not sure if that will do any good, but we might as well start somewhere.”

The expression on your face softened as Hugh said that. You could have figured as much. “You're being ridiculous, but I appreciate it,” the truth was that you probably didn't have any idea how to approach what you were feeling and going through either, and he was just scrambling to try and do something. He was making an effort while hoping that maybe one of those things would work for you, and some were actually working.

The first few days he had to pull you to sit down and meditate with him, but this morning you sat down next to him all on your own. For what it was worth you did appreciate spending ten minutes purely on yourself, being in no rush to do anything, feeling no pressure, having no deep thoughts plaguing your mind. It was just ten minutes, and in that brief period of time you could take a moment and relax. Somehow, starting the day like that was good for you, it was making you feel calm at the start of the day instead of tense as you usually were.

And despite the occasional joking complaints you made about the vacation turning into a glorified test of your stamina, you enjoyed yourself. You were gaining a new perspective on life in general, something to help you look at things from a different point of view. And throughout all of that the ring hanging from your neck brushed against your skin and reminded you that at the end of the day this all had to be worth it.

~X~

There has never been a January this miserable in Jenna's life, filled with so much despair and sorrow and exhausting conversations with her family. All of them, mostly her parents, but also her siblings, aside from Aliyah who saw how she was at the airport, were repeating that you weren't good for her. Repeating that she was like this because of you, that she was difficult to talk to, that she was miserable, that she had a short temper and wasn't pleasant to be around, all because of you.

Eventually she just packed her bag and went back to LA, cutting her family time short, because she could no longer take constantly hearing that. The worst thing about it was that it was getting to her head, and she feared that when, and if, she ever got the chance to see you again, that all those words her family kept repeating would end up reaching her. That the moment she saw you that she would start thinking whatever she had with you wasn't worth losing the support of her family.

And yet, as conflicted as she felt, she still often found herself with your shirt close to her and with your jacket around her shoulders as she went and did some small tasks all around her house. She couldn't quite wear it, the sleeves were too long for her, so she just tied the sleeves around her neck and went about her day. She was all alone so who cared if she looked a bit ridiculous.

From what Barbara told her, and she knew Barbara was only giving her the bare bones as far as the information went, you finished filming in Italy and went on a vacation with Hugh and his family. And despite everything Jenna almost felt bitter, thinking you moved on, that you decided to keep living your life with or without her in it, while she was here, having her world falling apart. If it turned out this between you couldn’t be fixed, then yeah, both of you had every right to move on. She just felt, in despair, that you did it way too quickly.

Her doorbell rang just as she finished washing the few dishes she used for her lunch, and she took your jacket off and hung it on the chair before going to her front door. Enrique said he would drop by, and this had to be him, and sure enough when she looked through the camera in front of her apartment building's front door she found him standing there. Jenna quickly opened the door and the front door of her apartment for him, and he came inside, meeting her in the hallway and she just hugged him soon as he was close enough.

“There, there, it's OK, you can cry,” he told her. By now he knew more or less what happened. He didn't know why you began fighting in the first place but he knew everything else. And while she could allow herself to cry in front of him Jenna honestly didn't have any tears left to shed, she spent so many nights crying herself to sleep that she was just tired of crying.

She let go of him and smiled a bit. “Let's just sit down. Do you want something to eat or drink? Anything?” Enrique just brushed her off, showing her he brought hot chocolate to go along, and Jenna was thankful for the a bit of thoughtfulness from someone who cared about her.

“Y/N’s jacket?” Enrique pointed at the jacket hanging from her chair as Jenna sat down.

She nodded. “I miss her,” she confessed softly. You weren’t talking and that was only making things worse right now. “But I don’t think my parents will ever accept her.”

Enrique leaned back in his chair. “Well, I'm here to fix that,” Enrique promised her, and somehow, she believed him. “So, how about you fill me in on the things I don't know,” he asked, and Jenna began. She told him everything she knew, that your parents were in an accident, were left in a coma and that you needed money. That you sold your apartment and that it still wasn't enough, so you went and got involved in a fight club. She told him all of that, and that it wasn't enough, that your parents couldn't be saved, and that you then, despite no longer having to fight, went and fought again, and Enrique just sat there listening taking it all in.

“You know, and this might just be me, but I think it's beautiful. You know, what she did,” his words took her by surprise, she had no idea how he could even come to that conclusion. You went and you hurt people, and you let others hurt you for money. How could that have been beautiful in any way? “Now, hear me out, I know how it sounds. But think about it. Y/N loved her parents so much that she didn't care what she had to endure to try and save them, she didn't get involved in that out of greed or a desire to hurt people, she went and fought because that was her only hope.”

Jenna just sat there, taking his words in. She hadn’t even thought about it that way, in her mind and in her entire family's opinion there was no excuse for what you did, there was nothing but violence in it, even if they understood the circumstances. Well, at least for the period while your parents were in a coma, and you were fighting for them.

“Just think about how much you would have to love someone to be sixteen and willingly go through so much pain, just for a slim chance that you could save that someone you love. Jenna, I've seen the way she looks at you, and you've seen it too. Your parents worry she would end up hurting you one day, but the way I see it there is a good chance she's the person you'll be safest with,” it felt like everything she thought she knew and everything she thought she felt was thrown on its head and changed in an instant. Like there was suddenly some kind of light shining through the clouds and making her see things differently.

“She went back, Enrique,” she fell back on repeating the arguments her parents kept making, afraid that if he convinced her, that she would only break. That she would ignore everything her parents wanted and do everything in her power to rebuild what the two of you had.

“Jenna, she was broken by grief. Y/N just lost her entire family, you said she fought for months to try and keep them alive, and she failed. So, she went and chose an unhealthy coping mechanism,” a lot like plenty of other people, and finally it all just made sense to Jenna, she understood what Enrique was trying to say. Yet it came too late, now it only made her feel worse that she didn't even consider these options, that she didn't even try to understand you and that she just pushed you away.

“I'm too late. I doubt she would ever want to see me again and I can't even blame her,” clearly not all of her tears were dried up, because here she was, crying once again. Enrique just pulled her into a hug, trying to console her and help her through this.

“You don't know that. Hey, we've both seen how she looks at you! I've spent just a couple of hours with her and even I can tell that girl unconditionally loves you!” and yet she went and risked it all over an impulsive reaction and her need to not go against her parents in that very moment.

The phone buzzed next to her, and her and Enrique saw it was from Barbara. “See what she sent,” Enrique encouraged her and Jenna unlocked her phone, and while making sure that Enrique could see it as well, she opened the message. Her eyes widened; Barbara had sent her a photo. It was you, in a place she couldn't recognize, drinking coffee it seemed, and just sitting by the fire with a small smile on your face, but what caught her eye wasn't your expression nor anything else about you, it was her ring clearly on display, hanging from the necklace around your neck.

“See, I told you,” Enrique patted her on the back and Jenna smiled as she spent who knows how long just silently staring at the picture. She stared, taking in the way the fire was reflected in your eyes, the smile on your face was honest, but there was a sense of sorrow in it, like you were constantly missing something. It wasn't the full smile you had when you were with her, and she studied every single detail about you, your hair, your clothes, the way light from the flames and shadows made your skin look, the way you held the coffee cup, firmly grasping it. She noticed the way you were slightly hunched forward, maybe leaning in to listen to whoever was talking to you, and she remembered how you leaned in to listen to her, you always leaned in closer than this. Your attention was always completely on her, and while you were paying attention to whoever you were talking to in this picture as well, she figured at least 10 to 15% of your attention was somewhere else.

And then she got another message from Barbara, and this time it was a video, perhaps taken only moments after the photo. You were silent, just listening and then it happened, you reached up and your thumb and finger brushed along her ring. You glanced down, the longing clear in your eyes, too lost in thoughts to notice you were being filmed.

“See, she loves you! She misses you, she wants you back in her life!” Enrique messed with her hair for a bit and the remark would have seemed like teasing to her a month ago, but now it was more than welcome.

“I still don't know what to do with my parents,” while she could probably convince her siblings that she would be fine, her parents were a whole other story.

“I'll handle them,” Enrique promised her and she trusted him, maybe he wouldn't be able to completely change their minds, but she believed that he would be able to at least make them willing to give the two of you a chance.

“Thanks,” Jenna said, not sure what else to say to show her gratitude. Then Barbara sent one last message for the day. ‘Just figured you should know that Y/N is trying her best. She’s trying to get better, and you are the biggest reason why she's doing that. As you can see by that ring that she refuses to take off unless she absolutely has to.’

And Jenna smiled, a sense of hope, from the conversation she had with Enrique, the video of you she got, and the message Barbara sent, filling her heart for the first time in roughly a month.

~X~

Even with all the energy you've been spending throughout the days, you still struggled to fall asleep, and you really shouldn't be, your days were packed. If it wasn't actually working and volunteering to help people out with Hugh, then it was sightseeing and long walks, and yet as tired as you were by the time you would say goodnight to Hugh and his family, that exhaustion would just vanish the moment you would lay down in your bed. You found yourself struggling to fall asleep each and every night.

You should have known long days of work or walking or some physically demanding activities wouldn't be enough to get you to easily fall asleep. After all, if there was one thing those fights gave you it was almost ridiculous stamina, and you had to admit you were hating that right now. Because no matter how tired or how calm you would be, you just couldn't fall asleep. You've tried meditating, you've tried doing a quick workout, you tried drinking chamomile tea, and yet none of that helped.

You knew exactly what was wrong, you glanced at your bedside table, at the ring Jenna gave you. You only took it off either when you were taking a shower or a bath, and when you were sleeping. You were afraid you could somehow grab the necklace and break it, and then lose the ring somewhere, so you would take it off. And it wasn't that you were missing the ring in particular, it was just that when you were on your own, your thoughts would just wander to the different places, and you had no control over them. You've been thinking about Jenna damn near constantly when you were alone.

Even when you were with other people you knew there was a sense of longing in everything you did, in every laugh, in every smile. You were there and you were happy. You really were doing better, but you just missed her. and you thought it would get better with time, but it didn't. It was just getting worse day by day. You turned in your bed once again for what felt like the hundredth time tonight alone, unable to quiet your mind.

The only thing you wanted was to just call her and see how she was doing, to just know that she was fine. Deep down you knew you left her at potentially the worst possible moment. You saw the desire to reach out to you, and to touch you in her eyes, back when you last saw her. You knew you were leaving her with the family that despised you right now, and you couldn't even begin to imagine just how hard it would be for her to go through all of that on her own. Living alone was in your mind one of the worst ways one could live, but constantly being surrounded by people who disapproved of something you cared about and put you through emotional pain while saying it was for your sake, was way worse than that.

And you despised yourself for leaving Jenna like that, because in the worst-case scenario she wanted to talk to you, but her family wouldn't agree with it no matter what she said. Yet you couldn't do anything about it, you hurt her, you betrayed her trust and you no longer had the right to reach out first. It had to be her, you couldn't force your way into her life, no matter how desperate you were to just know that she was fine.

And deep down maybe you were afraid of what you would do if she wasn’t fine.

And those thoughts plagued your mind. You constantly worried about how she was, how she slept, if she ate enough. Being alone made those thoughts a dozen time louder, and it was almost unbearable.

You glanced at your phone to check the time and tried to figure out what time it would be in Denver, eventually, you figured Barbara would be off work right now, so you went and called her, hoping her voice could calm down your nerves a bit. Besides, you missed your best friend, as much as this vacation helped you, you still wished she could have experienced some of this as well.

As you waited for her to pick up you promised yourself that when you finally come back and when you finished filming with Hugh that you would go and reconcile with her family.

“Babe?” of course she greeted you like that, that dumbass.

“Sure, sure, Babe,” you rolled your eyes. You found it somewhat funny how different things were the last time you called Barbara ‘babe’ back then Jenna heard it, and you had to explain yourself. Now it was much different, and those were just good old times before you went and fucked up.

“I can hear you rolling your eyes,” Barbara laughed, and you were going to take that, because she needed a laugh after helping you pull through those first couple of days after Jenna left. Barbara deserved every chance to laugh and if anyone were to hurt her you would raise hell until she was fine again, which was also part of the reason why you were adamant on sooner rather than later reconciling with her family.

It would also be very strange to suddenly, for example, appear at a celebration of something important happening in Barbara's life and surprise her parents by showing them you were still in Barbara's life. “Yeah, because eyerolls make sounds,” still, it was a bit strange, it sounded like Barbara had you on speaker. “How was your day?”

“Uh, just the usual, you know. Went to work and now I'm just lying around, bored. About to turn on the cheesiest love songs in history,” that was not good news, that meant only one thing, another heartbreak, well sort of, Barbara never took it too close to heart when something like this happened. Especially since she hasn’t really been serious with anyone over the past year.

“Which guy who asked you out ended up being in the closet now?” you would still humor her.

“James,” and that meant nothing to you. You didn't even know the guy existed; this was the first time you were hearing about him.

“How long ago was this again?” you asked, maybe you just forgot since your mind was damn near always on Jenna these days.

“A few months ago, you were filming Scream, meeting the love of your life while I was at the store, meeting James, who, as it turns out, only wanted a girlfriend so his mom would be happy,” she jokingly ranted. “Didn't even get to the first date point, so no harm done,” she may have been complaining, but you were well aware that Barbara didn’t care one bit about it. When someone right shows up he’ll show up, she used to say, and she still believed that. And she was still twenty, she mostly just dated to meet people and if it ended up becoming serious than so be it.

As for you, despite everything you still smiled at the love of your life comment, almost welcoming the teasing.

“I guess that will keep happening, minus finding the love of my life again, doubt that's happening, but you meeting guys while I’m somewhere filming,” considering you were serious about acting now that scenario was fairly plausible. How many things in Barbara and Hugh’s life would you miss with this job? How many times would you only be able to comfort Barbara over the phone? That was the sad reality of your work.

“About that, I think you won't need to find another one,” she said and you sat up abruptly, your heart beating rapidly in your chest at those words.

“What do you mean?” but she just laughed and for a moment you naively thought that she wasn't laughing at you, that maybe there was another reason she laughed. “Barbara, what do you mean?!”

“Oh, nothing, nothing! Don't worry about it! Oh, by the way, I need to go and get,” she paused as if she was thinking of an excuse. “A pizza, yeah, a pizza. I ordered a pizza and it's just about to arrive!” what the hell was going on over there?

“Barbara, you know I know when you are lying!” but she was already saying ‘bye!’ “You come back here and explain yourself, Barbara!” but she just hung up and you stared at your phone, baffled by what just happened. What did you miss?

~X~

Barbara was laughing her ass off and she just sank into the sofa. Your sofa by the way, because of course Barbara would take her to your apartment.

“See, you've got nothing to worry about. You're the love of her life,” Barbara told her with the almost infuriatingly wide grin on her face and Jenna just looked down, her face about as red as a tomato, and she couldn't stop the smile on her face.

For the first time since the end of last year she was actually at peace, and it was almost ironic that it was in your apartment. It was like deep down she could feel your presence around her, even if the apartment was fairly barren from anything personal in it. She could still feel like you were almost right there with her.

“She sounded,” she began, but she couldn't even find the correct word to describe what she noticed. But there was a change in your voice that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

“Like she was struggling, for the lack of a better word,” Barbara offered, and Jenna supposed that would be the most fitting description, though it wasn't quite the word she would use. It was more like you were on the precipice of finally reaching something that she couldn't define, yet she knew it would be important for you.

“I guess,” but she accepted the description Barbara offered.

Barbara gave her a small smile “So, you are going away for filming, right? That's why you wanted to talk.”

This time next week she would already be in New Zealand, about to start filming X, so that would mean she couldn't see you anytime soon. It was a harsh blow to know that she wouldn’t be able to see you for at least a month and a half from now. She didn't think she would be hearing your voice, and while it felt so good while it lasted, it just reopened that wound on her heart, caused by all the longing within her. She missed you so much, but she still wanted your first contact again to be face to face, and in a way she was afraid of your reaction; even if Barbara and Enrique have been telling her that it would be fine, that you still loved her.

“Well at least you’ll both be free after that and then you can figure out when and how to meet up,” that was a comforting thought, that after the filming was done for both of you, you would have the time and space and could actually talk things through. Maybe even find a way to get back to the way things were before because she desperately needed you back in her life.

“How should I approach it?” Jenna asked timidly.

Barbara put a finger on her chin, seemingly thinking about it. “Well, first of all you need to book an entire restaurant, and you have to arrange for a car to come and pick her up, and make sure there are flowers and cookies, and a good movie and some music. Y/N just adores heartbreaking love songs, they need to have soul crushingly depressing lyrics, by the way,” and then she burst out laughing because Jenna was seriously listening to her. “I'm messing with you, Jenna. Just show up. Just like you told me: ‘Hey, can we meet up, I want to talk,’ do the same thing with her. Or if you really don't want to send that message and you want the first thing you tell her to be face to face, then you tell me and I'll bring her somewhere so you can do that. That’s all Y/N wants, just you.”

And that comforted her a lot, that at the end of the day it didn't matter how she would show up, in front of you as long as she did come to talk. “Can we actually fix this?” Jenna asked because Barbara was the only one who knew you enough to give her that answer.

“12 hours,” Barbara said and then just completely stopped. Jenna just raised an eyebrow, not getting what that mean, so Barbara sighed and continued. “That's how long it'll take the two of you to end up in her bed naked, and very thankful the walls of this apartment are thick, not that you'll notice, because you'll be in the throes of passion. I'm telling you right now, that's gonna happen,” she said it with a completely blank face and somehow Jenna got even redder than before, unable to actually respond to that claim in any way.

~X~

With the vacation over, it was time to go back to work, and that meant going straight from Japan to New York to start filming The Daughter, and the first thing you did would perhaps make or break the rest of the process. Everything in the movie rested on the chemistry between you and Hugh, and the first scene had to start building that.

“Action!” you heard from behind the doors. You relaxed your posture, hung your head a bit and made it seem like you had the weight of the world on top of your shoulders, and you were just tired of it. And it wasn't difficult to get into that mental state. You opened the doors with an unscripted sigh, giving away how tired your character must be feeling as you tossed the bag onto the floor and just kicked your sneakers off, not even bothering to put them away properly. Your character was supposed to think she would come back home to an empty apartment, and you already made your way to your character's bedroom instead of at least glancing in the kitchen and the living room.

“Nicole!” you heard Laura's voice from the living room and froze momentarily, almost stumbling over your feet as you scrambled back to put your sneakers away properly and grab your bag. You let the panic in your eyes show well enough without overplaying it.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, and then took a deep breath as if pumping yourself up to put on a façade. “Hey mom, shouldn't you be at work?” you asked as you leaned into the living room, showcasing the distance between the characters with a wide shot of the living room, with just your head and fingers of your left hand visible, as well as the hint of your bag hanging from your shoulder.

“I came early,” Laura smiled at you, and the smile was perfect, the pain and uneasiness hidden behind the unconditional love of a parent, it was all there in that quick moment that she would be in the focus.

“You arrived,” you tightened your grip on to the doorframe and flinched as if you were about to fall, and then you looked back to see Hugh coming out of the bathroom. You looked back at the hall, where his shoes were and then just looked at him again, as if trying to make sure he was actually there. “Dad?” you said in disbelief, and Hugh looked like he was stuck between being happy to see you and unsure what to expect from you. You leaned away from the doorframe, guarder, tense as you studied him, just as unsure of what to expect as he was.

“Your mom told me you've been skipping school, and I figured we could talk,” he said, and your entire demeanor changed as you glared at him. “Nicole,” Hugh called your character's name, and you tighten your jaw, starting to open your mouth to speak several times, before just giving up and relaxing.

“Sure, come on in,” you said motioning toward your room, there was no bounce to your steps and just for a moment you met Laura's eyes, and she just looked away as if silently saying sorry to you. You just closed your eyes for a moment, briefly letting the pain show on your face while neither Hugh nor Laura could see. As you let Hugh into the room you went and tossed the bag on your bed, not caring when you slightly missed, and it fell to the floor. You didn’t even wince at the slight mess in the room.

Hugh turned on the lights and walked by you, then he just picked your bag up, placing it on the bed with care, while you slumped into your chair. “You should keep your room tidy, when I was your age everything had to be spotless,” Hugh said and picked up an empty bottle of juice your character left lying there at some point.

“You should remember you have a daughter a bit more often, and yet here we are,” you fired back and Hugh’s eyes immediately met yours, only for you to look away and mumble a ‘Sorry’ under your breath.

Hugh sat down on your bed, and you just leaned back, not even looking at him. “I know we haven't spent a lot of time together lately, and I've been thinking that maybe you would like to spend some time with me, meet your baby brother. We can catch up and see how it works out?” he suggested and you looked at him for a moment.

“What about school?” you asked, sure your character didn't go to school for the past month, but it was still the middle of the year.

“We'll figure something out, enroll you in another school. Have you start over,” Hugh said and you nodded not really caring either way.

“Cut!” the director yelled and you and Hugh visibly relaxed. “That's what I wanted! Great job you two! You as well Laura!” he approached you and Hugh. “Hugh, you were right, Y/N can pull this off!” Florian patted you and Hugh on the shoulders and called you over to go over the next scene because the approach he took was to talk to both of you, or the actors involved in the scene, through it and try to explain all the emotions involved in it, as well as let you give him any input you might have as well.

Overall, even though the subject of the movie would be rather heavy, you wouldn't want to do this with anyone else. And from the look in Hugh’s eyes, you figured he felt the same.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @freakshow2501 @osnapitzmel1 @belatrixdragon @ijustlovemaths

@niqmandu @justspance @mirage018 @godamnityess

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next Part

[biolizardboils]

Presenting, for possibly the first time anywhere on the entire Internet... the Official 3-D Hypno-Ring instruction manual!

Transcription and extra notes under the cut!

__________________

OFFICIAL 3-D Hypno-Ring™ Instruction Manual

WARNING: Improper use of this ring may result in irreversible mental disturbances and severe psychological trauma. Keep out of reach of mad scientists and evil geniuses.

©1997 The Li’l Wiseguy Novelty Co.

__________________

⚡ WELCOME to the WONDERFUL WORLD of HYPNOSIS! ⚡

In this booklet, you’ll learn how to use your new 3-D Hypno-Ring to amaze your friends, control your enemies, and rule the world!

[NOTE: This ring is for entertainment purposes only. The Li’l Wiseguy Novelty Company hereby disclaims all responsibility for any global conquests which may result from the use or misuse of the 3-D Hypno-Ring.]

__________________

INSTRUCTIONS:

1. Put the 3-D Hypno-Ring on your finger—DANGER: DO NOT STARE DIRECTLY INTO THE RING! 2. Ask a friend to stare directly into the ring. 3. Slowly move the ring back and forth. 4. Instruct your friend to stare deeper and deeper into the ring. Say the word “deeper” over and over again, very slowly.

__________________

5 [sic] Tell your friend that he or she is getting very sleepy. Say the words “very sleepy” again and again, slower and slower. 6. When your friend closes his or her eyes, say these words: “You are under my spell. When I snap my fingers, you will obey my every command!” 7. Now have some fun! Turn them into a dog...or a banana. Tell them to do all your homework from now on...

__________________

...or make ‘em clean your room. Use your imagination- it’s fun! 8. [sic] To safely bring a person out of a trance, just snap your fingers, then give them a hug.

DO NOT POUR WATER ON THEIR HEADS!

[DANGER: The 3-D Hypno Ring [sic] may have an opposite effect on adult females. Who knew?]

__________________

Caution: The 3-D Hypno Ring may cause headaches, nausea, runny nose, diaper rash, watery eyes, post-nasal drip, upset stomach, nervousness, sleeplessness, loss of appetite, increased appetite, hiccups, hives, tunnel vision, projectile diarrhea, gingivitis, temporary hallucinations, irreversible brain damage, halitosis, fever, dizziness, excessive hair growth on the shoulders and upper back, sore throat, coughing, interest in yoga, pink-eye, tennis elbow, runner’s knee, athlete’s foot, bowler’s belly, pitcher’s mound, secretaries’ day, author’s misanthropism, dejà vu...

__________________

...dejà vu, stiffness in joints, stubbed toes, weeping, gnashing of teeth, drooling, snoring, severe belching and flatulence, vertigo, receding hairline, dandruff, ring-around-the-collar, stuffy nose, sneezing, tingling in extremities, achy-breaky heart, stinky-winky feet, split ends, profuse sweating, an uncontrollable urge to watch Bette Midler movies, paranoia, ingrown toenails, and/or chapped lips.

It’s Fun for the Whole Family!

__________________

WARNING!!!

Whatever you do, don’t pour water on anybody’s head while they are in a trance! This will cause the hypnotized person to slip back and forth from trance to reality whenever they hear the sound of fingers snapping.

TM &© 2001 Day [sic] Pilkey

__________________

Notes:

This thing is 4 pages longer than I expected (including the front and back “covers”)?? To think that this vital statistic went undocumented for so long...

The 2001 copyright date on the package sticker has been visible in photos for years; despite this, I’ve hesitated on pinning this as the Ring’s production date. The mention of the Works-Opposite-On-Women thing makes me more confident that the manual, at least, was added to the package in 2001, perhaps close to or after Book 5 dropped that August. (I’d still say the Ring itself is still up in the air, given the multiple claims of it being given out as early as 1997. Which brings up some more questions: Did those early Rings come with a different manual and sticker, or none at all?)

Speaking of the Works-Opposite-On-Women thing, the wording of “may” kills me fghjf. It’s like the Company found this glaring malfunction during testing and went “oh well, off to mass production!” No wonder they got shut down lol

The back cover looks exactly as it appeared in Book 1, down to the sentence breaks! The only addition is the copyright info on the right side.

I’ve been laughing at “Day Pilkey” for 20 minutes now lol. I thought of correcting all the typos in my transcription, but they’re cute to me so I left them in

Somehow it never occurred to me that Dav himself might’ve written this manual. The long list of silly side-effects is a big giveaway. There’s little guarantee he’ll remember the answer after all this time, but it’s a question I’ll be keeping in mind just in case.

The Ring itself is so tiny that I’m scared to wear it fhgjghj, it might get stuck past my knuckle or even break! Also I can’t snap my fingers so it’s not like I could use it anyway

Besides the Black Lenticular Spiral/Red Light-Up Spiral thing, there’s another small difference between this Ring and the Movie-era one. This one has “3-D” printed vertically on its shoulders and “Hypno-Ring” printed horizontally on its halo; the Movie one has the full name on its halo, minus the hyphen between 3 and D. (Look up “ring anatomy” if that sentence doesn’t make sense.)

The package is resealable, so I’ve put everything back in. I’ll be storing it in the little plastic chest I keep my first-edition CU books in, away from excess heat, excess light, and—most importantly—the wrong hands!

I’ve been waiting 20 years to get my hands on this thing. (Well, okay, first I stewed about it for about 1-3 years as a kid, then forgot about it for 11, then suddenly remembered it and stewed for 6 more, but you get this gist.) It’s nuts to finally hold it in my hands, let alone be the first to preserve a piece of it. Let this be a lesson to all: no matter how long it takes or how silly it is, your personal Holy Grail still exists for the taking... though it might cost over 40 bucks!

[leclerced]

I rewatched charles‘ ski vlog from last year and i have to share some thots with the class.

Beware this could be kind of dub con tho.

Imagine personaltrainor!charles getting a new client & he has the dirtiest thoughts about her while he watches her pant on the machines.

After the workout he’s helping her stretch & puts her in the most questionable poses. Touching her & bending her body with his body weight, all while sounding highly professional. Or letting her kneel to „take a break“ & stands right in front of her, so her face is level with his dick. „Accidentally“ grazing her tits and all that.

And when he puts her on all fours in front of the mirror, hes behind her & grabbing her hips while looking deep into her eyes through the mirror. He leans over her to push her shoulders to the ground & presses his dick into her ass. This pose is to stretch her back, he tells her. Manually moving her thighs further apart, „unintentionally“ grazing her pussy through her thin yoga pants. Praising her flexibility/execution. She can’t hold in her moans anymore when he finally leans back to rub her through her her pants while he talks about how many sessions they have to do in the next weeks in order for her to improve.

Just imagine him pointing out that shes soaked bc she „sweat“ through her pants and pulling them down. How he „rewards“ her hard work by fucking her still in front of the mirror.

Long ass brainrot but im too feral rn

🫀

where do i sign up ??? this is so hot im obsessed.

imagine reader walking in and thinking she’s imagining it all. his touches are so soft they’re believably accidental so she’d never say anything about it. too nervous to flirt with him because he’s so attractive and she’s literally paying him to train her.

he definitely helps her stretch and goes a little further than normal one day to hear her gasp, or say it hurts and he’d smirk and reply, “feels good though, doesn’t it?” and she can’t help but agree.

obsessed w them fucking in front of the mirror. he’d know exactly what positions he can put her in from all the training sessions and he’d take full advantage of it. can imagine he tells her how he’s wanted to fuck her since their first session and she’s like, “you should have, i thought i was crazy this whole time when you kept touching my ass.”

she’s definitely sore afterwards and i like to think he’d be nice and take her back to his place and give her a bath in his fancy tub w all his products like epsom salts and give her a massage afterwards.

[vivalas-vega]

real friends / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part three

hehe two parts in one day. it’s my weekend and I was on a roll. here’s a long fluffy, kinda sad but mostly silly chapter!!! turns out cobra is a bigger softy than she lets on ;)

real friends / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part three

add yourself to my taglist

one / two 

word count: 4k

warnings: language, hangman is whipped

tag list: @potato-girl99981 @olliepig @roosters-girl @angelbabyange @loveforaugust​ 

The air was growing suffocating in your car as you pondered your options… sat along the side of a deserted road just outside of the city you cursed yourself for not springing for a new car when you had the chance. Something about saving the money for something else because your old girl had never failed you. You opened your phone as you manually rolled the window down and clicked Rooster’s contact.

“Hey honey, what’s up?” he answered, sounding out of breath.

“Hey Roo, I need- are you okay? You sound like you’re being chased.” 

“Well… that’s because I am.”

“Uh… okay? Why?” you asked, laughing a little.

“I’m actually- uh, oh fuck.” You frowned a little as you heard grunting on the other end, “I’m on a date. Had the idea of taking her to laser tag but I’m getting my ass beat. Did you need something?” 

“No, nevermind, enjoy your date. Use protection.” you said, sighing as you hung up. You mentally ran through your list of options… Phoenix was spending time with her girlfriend, Coyote and Fanboy were seeing a movie they’ve been talking about for weeks on end, Bob had taken a quick trip to see his family, Payback had said something along the lines of ‘if any of you call me over this break I will personally see to it you’re shot out of the sky’, which only left you with one option. You could call a tow, but it really only seemed as if you needed a jumpstart, calling would be a slightly over dramatic and costly reaction to your current predicament. With a groan you clicked Hangman’s contact, bringing it to your ear as it rang.

“Well I’ll be, a phone call? In the middle of the day? Knew you’d realize I was irresistible sooner or later.” You could practically hear the smirk.

“Can it. I need your help.” Your nerves were fried as you opened your car door, stepping out into the San Diego heat which was only a few degrees cooler than the inside of your car, not giving you the respite you were hoping for.

“What’s going on, are you okay?” Any sense of teasing was gone and was instead replaced with urgent concern. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine but uh… well my car is not. I drove out to La Jolla and took a wrong turn somewhere and old Betsy thought this was the best possible place to give out on me. I think I just need a jump,” you sighed, walking around to the front of your car and leaning on the hood.

“Betsy?” he questioned, and you could already hear the sound of his keys and his car door closing in the background.

“Betsy is my car, I’m taking no further questions on the matter.” 

“Alright, drop a pin I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You hung up and did what he asked, looking around you and trying to figure out what to do to pass the time while you waited. You walked around to the back of your car, propping the windshield up, dropping the tailgate and hopping on. You rooted around in the back, grabbing your emergency kit and pulling out some long expired granola bars, a change of clothes and a few bottles of water. You quickly chugged an entire bottle before grabbing the pair of gym shorts and walking around the side of your car, quickly removing your yoga pants and slipping them on after taking a few glances in either direction. You returned to your previous perch, opening Instagram and mindlessly scrolling, leaving a rather lewd albeit supportive comment on Phoenix’s most recent selfie, and a thumbs down emoji on Rooster’s gym pictures. 

Checking the time you’d realized it’d been about fifteen minutes since texting Hangman and hoped he’d be here soon. The heat was really starting to get to you and you pulled your oversized tee off and threw it somewhere in your car, desperate to feel even a little bit of a breeze as you sat now just in your sports bra and shorts. Sure enough as you were struggling to turn an abandoned book into a makeshift fan you heard the crunch of gravel as a car pulled up, and you walked around your car to see Hangman with what looked like an ice cold bottle of water. 

“Sorry it took a while, made a pit stop because I thought you’d want this,” he said, tossing it to you and you caught it with ease, immediately pressing it to your neck. 

“You thought right, thank you,” you said, watching as he popped the hood of your car. 

“Alright, let’s see if we can get this old bat running.” You watched as he connected both of your cars, scowling when he swatted your hand away as you tried to help. “What were you up to today?”

“Hike, there’s a really beautiful spot in Torrey Pines. I’d heard about a good brunch spot away from the beach but apparently my navigational skills are shit when I’m not in the air.” 

“Should be good, go give her a whirl,” he said as he got into his truck and started the engine. You let out a groan as your engine made a valiant effort to come back to life, but ultimately decided against giving you a win today. You shook your head at him as he watched you through his windshield and he turned it off and hopped out, disconnecting the cables and taking a look around. He pulled out your dipstick, absolutely barren, spare the last half inch that had a glob of dark brown sludge hanging onto the end and he just looked at you in horror. “Sweetheart, when was the last time you got an oil change?”

“Uh, well…” you took a moment to peer inside your car, looking at the sticker and reading when you were supposed to get your last change, “says here I was supposed to get it at 183,457 miles.”

“And how many miles are you currently at?” You checked the odometer.

“189,433.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered, replacing the stick and putting his hands on his hips as he looked at you with what you assumed was his best ‘disapproving dad’ look. “It’s honestly a miracle it just died on you and you didn’t blow a gasket or worse.” 

“I forgot,” you shrugged.

“The sticker is right there! Like, literally, right in front of you every time you’re driving.” 

“I’m a responsible driver, I don’t look anywhere but the road.” 

“Responsible driver,” he mumbled, shaking his head and pulling out his phone, “so responsible you go almost six thousand miles past your oil change requirements,” he continued mumbling as he pressed the phone to his ear. 

“Who are you calling?” He looked at you like you had two heads.

“Who am I- a fucking tow truck.” he said exasperated and you raised your hands in surrender. You listened as he gave directions to the tow company and sighed as you looked at your car, knowing the last time you took her in for work the mechanic strongly recommended you let him keep it for scrap. “Come on, they’ll be here soon,” he opened the passenger side and you climbed in, grateful when he turned the AC on.

“Thank you for coming to witness the death of my car,” you said, giving him a small smile.

“Can I ask why you’re still driving that junker around?”

“Watch your mouth, Betsy is an old bird but she still has a heart… feelings,” you said, pointing a finger at him and he chuckled at your angry expression, “I’m serious!” You leaned across the console to hit his chest. “I’ve had her since high school, she was my mom’s car before she got passed along to me. I have a lot of memories in there, her driving me to and from practices, school dances… I had a lot of my firsts in there once I got her.” You looked ahead at Betsy, in all her glory, with her hood propped open and covered in dust from the unpaved road.

“Okay, so take a photo and keep it in a scrapbook.” 

You sighed, “you don’t get it… I’ve shipped her everywhere I’ve been stationed, she literally saw me through diapers to where I am now. Every version of myself has been in that car,” you said sadly. 

“Honey, she’s unsafe at this point.”

“I know, I just… I didn’t want to let her go.” Just as you said this the tow truck pulled up and you rushed out to meet him, the two of you standing off to the side while he examined the engine. 

“Sorry kid, but I don’t think there’s anything I can do.” You nodded, looking at Hangman before turning back to the mechanic.

“Can you uh, I just need a minute.” you said, getting into the car and closing the door. Your hands gripped the steering wheel as you took a deep breath, “well, old girl, looks like the time has finally come.” You looked into the backseat, feeling emotion bubble up as you saw where your car seat had once rested, where you sang along to Britney Spears with your childhood friends, where Luke Something had deflowered you on your prom night, where you crammed a few boxes and a suitcase before departing for the Naval Academy. You pulled the mix of high school graduation tassels, your first set of dog tags, and a horribly tacky necklace Henry had bought you from a gumball machine from the rearview mirror before grabbing any relevant items from the glove compartment and front seat. You held the mix of items in your lap, taking one final moment and affectionately rubbing the dashboard. “Thank you, Betsy. You’ve been the best adventure buddy a girl could ask for.” 

You got out with a sigh, wiping a few tears away with your freehand as you precariously held the mix of memories and your purse under your arm and Hangman quickly grabbed them for you, placing them in the cab of his truck. The mechanic had since closed your hood, and you took a moment to do what Hangman had suggested and snapped a photo, fighting back another round of tears as you approached the mechanic to give him your information to bill for the tow.

“Don’t worry about it kid, don’t think I could charge you in good faith when you’re this torn up.”

“No, I don’t want to waste your time-”

“I’ll get money from the scrap, word of advice… get a new car this go around, and change the oil.” he said waving you off and you couldn’t help but start crying.

“Honey, it’s just a car,” Hangman said, pulling you into his side as you watched the man and his helper load her up onto the back, “you still have the memories.”

“They’re taking her for scrap. She’s going to be stripped and sold for parts,” you all but blubbered and he soothingly rubbed your back as you wrapped your arms around him. “What a terribly dishonorable way to go.” He continued to hold you as they began to pull away, and you buried your face in his chest, not being able to bear the sight. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, squeezing you tight. He couldn’t help but find the whole thing adorable, your deep attachment to the car and the way you cried as if it was a dear friend ripped from you too soon, and not a car he would have guessed was on its last leg about five years ago. “Okay honey, here’s what we’re going to do,” he pulled away slightly once you’d calmed down, wiping the tears from your cheeks and noting how you kept your arms right where they’d been, tightly wrapped around him. “We’re going to head down to the nearest car dealership,” you started shaking your head, feeling another wave of tears coming on, “no, no no,” he wiped them before they could fall, “we’re going to go to the dealership, we’re going to find the car that reminds you the most of Betsy, and we’re going to get you all squared away with her, okay?” You sniffled and nodded, finally detaching yourself from him and dejectedly getting into the truck. 

“I’m sure this is not how you planned on spending your day,” you finally said as you made your way back into the city.

“Certainly not, but I’m glad to be here in your time of need. It’s what friends are for,” he said, shooting you a smile before returning his attention to the road and you nodded.

“It must look rather silly, getting so worked up over a car.”

“Not at all, you had a lot of big milestones with Betsy, I know it must be hard letting her go.” He reached behind the seat at a red light, grabbing two pieces of metal and placing them in your lap, “had the mechanic take that off for you while you were saying goodbye.” Your fingers wrapped around the metallic word of the make of your car, the identifying emblem that was covered in nicks and scratches, the foil peeling around the edges and the dusty license plate.

“Jake,” you sighed, looking over at him, “that was… this is really thoughtful, thank you.” You smiled at him, fighting another wave of emotion. You pulled into a car lot, surrounded by newer, shinier cars that in your mind didn’t hold a candle to your own but figured they would have to do. He reached behind the seat again, rooting around in his gym bag and procuring a well-worn Top Gun shirt.

“Not that I don’t love this view,” his eyes glancing down at your chest, “but I’m sure you don’t want creepy car salesmen thinking the same.” You were momentarily disappointed, remembering you’d left your top and yoga pants in the back of the car but let it go before slipping the shirt over your head, trying not to dwell too much on how it smelled like Jake.

“I don’t want you thinking it either, Bagman,” you muttered, accepting his hand as he helped you jump out of the truck.

“Hey, there she is,” he nudged your shoulder as you walked in the front door, immediately greeted by an overly eager salesman and his rather pungent cheap cologne. He led you over to a table where you rattled off a list of things you were looking for… Four wheel drive, AC, noted that upgrading to a bluetooth system wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world and before you knew it you were strolling through the lot looking at potential options.

“What about this one?” Hangman asked, gesturing towards a Jeep, and the man opened the drivers side so you could hop in. 

“It smells new,” you observed as Hangman got in next to you.

“Well, that’s because it is.”

“I want the faint cigarette and weed smoke smell I dedicated my entire high school career to embedding into the upholstery.” He chuckled at this, beginning to point out all the cool features.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have your GPS right here, instead of dangerously on your phone?” he asked, pointing to the screen in the dashboard.

“It’s so fancy.”

“Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you but this is actually pretty standard as far as new cars go.”

You scoffed before taking a moment to look around, “I guess it’s not terrible.”

“See? And it's not quite the same shade of green as Betsy, but it’s close, right?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, fiddling with the rearview mirror. 

“What do you think? I think it’ll be great for all your new adventures and new memories.” he prodded, trying to get you excited about it. 

“It’ll do,” you nodded and he pumped his fist, deciding to take what he could get as you climbed out of the car.

“She’ll take it.” 

-----

You later found yourself at the Hard Deck, nursing a spicy margarita as Hangman desperately tried to raise your spirits. Rooster and Phoenix walked in, talking about the sexy Jeep in the parking lot and you groaned, head colliding with the wooden bar top and they both looked at you confused.

“What did you do to her?” Rooster asked, placing a hand on your back.

“Me? What did I do? Oh, I don’t know, just rescued her off the side of the road and spent the better part of my day trying to get her stoked about her new ride.”

“The Jeep is yours?” Phoenix asked, accepting a beer from Penny.

“Yes,” you mumbled against your arm.

“And we’re upset about this?” Rooster asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“We had to put Betsy to rest, it’s been a rough day.” Hangman explained and you just made an unintelligible noise.

“Betsy?” Rooster and Phoenix asked at the same time and Hangman just shook his head as you stood from the bar suddenly, ignoring the headrush and making your way to the jukebox.

“It’s like you people don’t even know me,” you muttered.

“I think this is a good time to mention this is her fourth margarita,” Hangman said, watching as you fumbled with the buttons.

“Fifth,” Penny corrected, causing the aviators to all look at her, “she pounded another one when you went to the bathroom.” They returned their attention to you, blinking incredulously as the sounds of Angel rang throughout the bar, causing every other patron to look your way confused and slightly annoyed. 

“Oh my god,” Rooster said, mouth agape as he took in the scene before him.

“I didn’t even know this was on the jukebox,” Penny said. Phoenix stifled a laugh, watching as you leaned against the piano, clutching your drink with your eyes closed.

“I don’t think she was this upset when I almost died,” Rooster said, eyes growing concerned as you swayed before catching yourself and sinking onto the piano bench. 

“Dude, you didn’t even see her on the side of the road. I’ve never seen her show so much emotion that wasn’t anger,” Hangman said.

“I can hear you.” you half-yelled, taking another sip of your drink and humming along to the song. “In the arms of the angel, fly awaaaay from here,” you sang drunkenly, and horribly out of tune and Rooster couldn’t contain it any longer, turning towards Penny as he laughed.

“Oh, this is bad,” Phoenix said, also succumbing to her giggles. 

“Guys. Guys, guys,” you whisper shouted, gesturing them over and they slowly approached you, “a toast, to Betsy.” you said, sticking your now nearly-empty glass in the air.

“To Betsy,” they all said almost in the form of a question as they clinked their glasses to yours.

“It is customary,” you paused to hiccup, “at a wake to say nice things.” You looked at the rest of them expectantly, who looked at each other with wide eyes. 

“Uh, Betsy was… well, she was a great car, very… vibrant?” Rooster said, hoping it would satisfy you and you nodded along.

“Yes she was,” you mumbled.

“Truly a dependable car, there when you needed her,” Phoenix said.

“You have no idea,” you sniffled.

“I was only there for her final moments, and she went with grace.” Hangman finished and you held your glass up, Rooster biting his lip to contain himself as you cheers’d again. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Fanboy asked, as him and Coyote walked in the bar and Penny just shook her head.

“Apparently a wake, don’t ask.” She said, setting two beers in front of them. The rest of the evening went by smoothly, the gang slipping into their usual routine with the added running of interference to keep you from playing sad songs on the jukebox. You watched as Rooster and Phoenix played pool, drinking the water Penny had insisted you switch to as your eyes grew rather heavy. 

“You ready to head home, sweetheart?” Hangman asked, stepping in front of you and taking your glass to set on the table and you just nodded. “Did you come with Rooster?” he asked Phoenix who nodded and he fished your keys from your purse and pulled the car fob off to toss to her, “drive her car home whenever you’re done, I’ll cover your Uber.” He scooped you up as you half-heartedly waved to everyone, smiling as they told you to feel better.

“He’s so whipped,” Fanboy said, chuckling as the group watched you leave. 

“Jake?” you asked as he buckled you into his truck and he looked down at you expectantly, “you’re a pretty good friend.” 

“That I am, and you’re hammered, princess, so we’re going to get you home, okay?” He closed the door gently and jogged around to the drivers side, sighing as he saw you already falling asleep against the window. On the short drive to your house he thought to himself that he should have been annoyed, spending a day fetching you from the side of the road in the blazing heat, placating you as you cried, taking care of you while you drank yourself numb to toast the memory of a car but he wasn’t, not in the slightest. He honestly wouldn’t have rather been anywhere else than by your side during your time of need, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about the way his heart clenched when he saw your sleeping form in his truck, looking so peaceful in stark contradiction to the slight rings of mascara around your eyes. Even as he carried you to your porch, precariously balancing you as he fumbled to get your front door open he couldn’t find it in himself to muster a Hangman-esque comment, all he wanted to do was get you into bed safe and sound. 

You whined as he set you upright on your bed, forcing you to stay sitting as he crouched before you to pull off your sneakers, “are you a socks-on or socks-off person for bed?” he asked.

“Off, do you think I’m some sort of psycho?” 

He chuckled, “after today I’m not really sure what you are, darlin’.” He slipped them off and helped you crawl under the covers, disappearing momentarily to get you a glass of water and root around your kitchen cabinets until he found the ibuprofen, which he set on your nightstand when he returned. “Okay, honey, take those first thing when you wake up. I’ll call you in the morning,” he patted your shoulder as he went to take his leave and you forced your eyes open to look at him.

“You’re going?” you asked, your voice so small he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“It appears my duties have been fulfilled.”

“I don’t think so,” you responded and he looked down inquisitively, “will you stay?” you asked, patting the bed beside you.

“Luring me into your quarters at this time of night? What do you take me for, a floozy?” he joked, placing a hand on his chest.

“That’s exactly what I take you for.”

“That’s insulting, sweetheart. As tempting as you’re making this sound, I think you should get some rest.” You just pawed at his hand gripping it and looking up at him with the saddest puppy dog eyes you could muster. He sighed, leaning up to turn your lamp off and walking around your bed, where he internally debated whether or not he should keep his shorts on. He decided to slip them off, already knowing you’d pitch a fit if you felt the rough chino fabric rub against you in the night and slid in beside you, careful to keep a safe distance, but that went out the window as you curled up against him, his arm instinctively raising so you could rest your head on his chest.

“Jake?” you asked and he hummed in acknowledgement, “thank you for today. It was really very cool of you.” You felt his chest rumble below you as he chuckled.

“Anytime, sweetheart, get some sleep,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and rubbing along your back as he waited for the sound of your breathing to even out. Looking down at your arm wrapped around him, head nuzzled into his chest he wiped his free hand along his face as he sighed. 

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

previous part / next part

[thistlecatfics]

incredibly exciting news in a totally wholesome and non-ironic way:

I took a yoga class (which was just me and the instructor as it turns out), and she did manual modifications on me (including on my hips!!) and I didn't get triggered! at all! this has never happened before!

to be fair, I haven't had a class in five years and during that time I've done pretty intensive trauma therapy, and I'm on vacation, and I had a corona before the class BUT BUT BUT a yoga instructor touched my body, and I remained in it!

I've been completely zooted out of my body every time a yoga instructor has touched me at all every other time that's happened.

but not today!

[in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather]

[Starship Icarus] V

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4

Summary: space hysteria, fashion shows, tragic backstories, self-administered manual pleasure, and two idiots in love. It’s a shitshow and you’re cordially invited <3

WC: ~7.8k

*

She was true to her word. When she said she didn’t want to think about this mess they were in, she stopped picking at the wound. Whether it ever closed up and when it might begin to heal was impossible to know, but to look at her, at either of them, you would not think these were two hopelessly doomed people waiting out the spilling stardust as it cruelly poured out of their overturned hourglass.

They had developed routines, learned each other’s rhythms. She liked hot early morning showers and she timed them with his morning cigarette. They had breakfast together as her hair dried and dripped on the table between them, sneaking forks and fingers across to the other one’s plate and grinning as the popped their loot into their mouths.

Mills preferred weigh training while she did yoga. Mercifully, and frustratingly, she tended to do this in the nature room, surrounded by flora transplanted from Earth, under a small man-made waterfall, while he sweated and grunted under a crushingly heavy bar, trying and failing not to imagine her body in all sorts of provocative poses.

They both appreciated alone time and spent it in various ways – reading, tinkering, decompressing.  At night, they either took turns messing with Clyde, making a competition out of getting him to glitch or bug out. Or they retired to one of their cabins and tentatively reached out in the dark, trying to divine and understand the other through a series of innocuous activities.

*

Mills was a livewire. Two years without true human contact left him horrifically sensitized to every little thing she did – from the flutter of her eyes, to the sound of her small gasps, or the inherently attractive, feminine way she went about performing the smallest tasks. Not to mention touch.

Every casual, accidental brush of her hand across any part of his body short circuited him. He caught himself more than once flinching away from her when he realized they walked in step and were about to walk through a door, narrow enough that they would have to squeeze together, or when he felt the presence and heat of her body, leaning over his shoulder as he sat and tinkered with some junk, eyes glued with fascination to his hands, deft and coated with slick, black oil.

To preserve some semblance of sanity, Mills tended to choose safe activities, ones that kept some measure of distance between them.

One evening after dinner, they played cards.

She sat on the plain white, nondescript coffee table in his small cabin. Hygge, she explained the style when he called it mass produced junk - the lazy, safe Nordic style people who were too afraid to make a real choice liked to use in decorating. Inoffensive to the point of barely existing. Anodyne enough to sedate the viewer, much like its denizens.

His smile grew wider to the point of bursting off his face as she rained disdain on the many ways in which people expressed cowardice in their daily lives and choices.

She sat on it demonstratively as she took the deck and shuffled, wiggling her ass across its face as if to insult the object. Mills bit down on the comment that he now found himself desiring some offense from her. Her legs folded under her as he sat on his prison cot of a bed, they played Crazy 8s for what felt like hours. When she won, she bounced up and down in place on her ass and threw her head back in laughter. Mills watched with amazement whenever she did something new, something he hadn’t seen before.

She was good about it when she caught him staring. All seven or eight times that night. He assumed she chalked it up to him being so isolated and starved for company for so long - and there was an element of that - but he knew it wouldn’t be long before she figured out he was looking at her not just because she was there, but because she was the only thing he wanted to see. That was under the generous and somewhat naïve presumption she didn’t know already.

*

As if to savor him and unravel him slowly, she did interviews with him piecemeal and sporadically. A few questions here, a debate here and there over his reluctance to completely throw Homestead under the bus, but Mills had a distinct feeling she wanted to go slowly and draw out their acquaintance and the discovery of him as a person over the many years ahead of them.

*

They talked about Homestead’s takeover of his old company and how he ended up joining Homestead II.

“Another in the string of terrible decisions,” he made a funny grimace and rubbed his eyes, to banish the memories brought on by looking back on that time.

“Oh?” she tried retain a professional mien and avoid laughing as the recordings she was making may one day be part of a searing indictment of Homestead’s shady practices.

“Yup. I should have known by then not to try my luck, awful as it’s always been.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Oh, yes. If I bought a cemetery, people would stop dying.”

She cracked then and shook her head. Mills watched the recoding spike high and erratic as it picked up her silvery laughter.

“I think Clyde would beg to differ—”

“He routinely does,” Mills interrupted and rolled his eyes. She rested her chin in her hand and just watched him and listened, caring less and less about keeping the interview formal.

“So terrible luck aside, what made you do it?”

Mills skipped over a few key details he was not yet willing to divulge and offered some well-documented tidbits about Homestead’s meteoric rise to become a space exploration giant.

“Originally, I was slated to be part of the crew. When that went to shit,” he paused and made a circling motion with his fingers, indicating a roll of film rewinding. “Let me give you a cleaner version of that. When that went awry,” he said with a serious affectation and she bit on her lips to keep her smile in, “I could either be some flyboy, jetting tourists from one place to another, or settle for being a glorified mechanic on board the Icarus.” He didn’t need to say how much the irony of not having crew access on the Icarus was plaguing him, since under different circumstances, he easily could have been the captain on board.

“Do you think you can fix any of this?” she asked right as he was pondering the same thing. It was skirting dangerously close to opening that wound he hoped would scab over.

“I could fix your garbage disposal or the old dodge sitting in your uncle’s yard for a solid few decades, but this ship…” he shrugged. “I got nothing but time to keep trying,” he infused his tone with reassurance. “I’ll try for you,” he added and felt his pulse start to gallop, expecting her reaction.

She smiled fondly and did nothing to accept or rebuff that thing he wasn’t quite saying yet.

It was early to belabor the point. Mills had spent months looking at her, listening to her words over and over, like his life depended on it. He was convinced that, at several points, it did. He was ready to go down on one knee as soon as she climbed out of her pod and she still had everything to learn about him.

*

Julian took to showing you the things he discovered about the ship in his wanderings. He was particularly amusing as a curator and guide to the most interesting and unusual cabins on board. You passed the time roasting people’s décor and choice of environment, until you realized there was a whole unexplored cache of fodder to make fun of – their wardrobes.

As Julian perused the trinkets lined along the shelves of a particularly gaudy cabin, you slipped into the wardrobe and snooped around. By that time, you had shed any sort of guilt about invading people’s privacy. You’d never live to meet them anyway.

The unhelpful thought was hastily shoved aside and you refused to allow your mood to dampen. Rather, you picked up and examined some outrageous pieces that hung before you, to make sure you weren’t imagining them.

What use might this person have for... a mink coat? Thigh-high boots that looked shellacked? A wide-brimmed floppy hat in a hideous shade of purple?

“Ever raided any of these closets?” you called out and popped your head to look at Julian, finding his broad back facing you.

He turned slowly, with impeccable comedic timing, and quirked a brow. “What are you suggesting?”

“Fashion show. Fall/Winter 2100, or whatever year it currently is.”

He pondered, giving you an exaggerated pensive expression. “We oughtta keep up with the times,” he conceded with a comical shrug.

“Especially the middle–aged amongst us.”

Julian let out a wounded sound and clutched over his heart at the comment.

“Ticky ticker?” you questioned the gesture, wrestling to keep a shit-eating grin off your face.

“No, I think it‘s a knife in my back, trying to poke out through my chest,” he responded haughtily and turned his face away from you.

You giggled and assumed your fashionista persona again. “Describe your personal style to me.”

“Sophisticated,” Julian narrowed his eyes and hollowed out his cheeks like an arrogant model.

“No.”

“Elevated,” he went on, heedless of your words.

“Stop,” you rolled your eyes.

“Full of panache and finesse,” he over-enunciated the words and struck a pose to illustrate his point.

“Yeah, not at all,” you muttered to yourself and faced the closet again.

“Casual/athletic,” he started, finally sounding serious.

“Okay, there we go.”

“Hold on,” he held up a finger to shush you, “athletic, but with a business-chic slant that’s very postmodern and avant-garde,” he tossed the word salad around with gusto.

“Yeah?” you crossed your arms and listened, wondering when he’ll tire of being a smartass. Smart money said it would be a while.

“Yeah, I can rock my ‘fits at the gym and at the Oval Office.”

“The Oval Office? You’re the president now?”

“I’m the de facto president of this ship, miss ma’am. And you better start showing me some respect.”

“Is that so?”

Julian took a step closer, crowding you against the closet and stopping just short of pushing his chest all the way into you. You felt your expression grow stupid, gaping like a fish as your knees informed you they were about to buckle and it was every man for himself. Julian drank in your reaction for a long, tense moment before releasing a valve and breaking into a grin.

“You?” he asked, checking you out from head to toe, ostensibly taking in your outfit.

“Cheap nasty low down trailer park burger slut.”

“That checks out,” he agreed a bit too eagerly and you smacked his shoulder.

“Oh, my god, I would kill for a burger,” you whined and felt your mouth salivate.

“Same,” Julian groaned in agreement and took a step back, relinquishing your personal space back to you.

You cleared your throat and gave silent thanks that female bodies showed arousal less conspicuously than male ones as you registered how much Julian’s proximity affected you. “Before my tummy starts singing us a mournful burger tune, why don’t you put together some - what did you call them, ‘fits? - and let’s meet up at the Grand Concourse in an hour. For the unveiling of the collection.”

“Be there or be square,” he pointed a finger gun at you and disappeared to find the best and worst things he could, vaguely, fit into.

*

Clyde pumped music into the cavernous halls of the Grand Concourse. It was a bass-heavy, bombastic tune with vaguely sexual moans and an indecipherable chorus – the sort that often accompanied edgy fashion shows where models walked around on horse hoof shoes, wearing trash bags and steampunk helmets.  You sat cross-legged in a chair at the end of the improvised runway and waited on pins and needles.

Finally, Julian emerged and strutted down the corridor in long strides. His face was impassive and his gaze stared off contemptuously into some middle distance. Had you not known better, you might have assumed he had done this kind of modeling before.

His outfit consisted of camo pants and, horrifically, a camo shirt. Both in slightly different hues, with swirling patterns and splotches that looked awfully mismatched stacked one on top of the other. He tied it all together with combat boots, which you recognized as his own pair.

“I give you,” he announced, coming to a stop and spinning to offer you a cheeky look at the back, “the army surplus store outfit.”

You were valiantly holding in both laughter and disgust, but your eyes betrayed you, watering as you did your best to keep your quivering lips from splitting into a grin.

“I can only presume the owner of this delectable outfit intended the two pieces of couture to be worn together.”

“Naturally,” you nodded with an air of wisdom.

“Only thing is,” he cringed and bit his lip, “it’s a little off on the sizing,” he admitted and twisted around to show off what he meant. “Could be smaller,” he said and flexed his powerful thighs, the ripples going up until they reached the flat plains of his ass. The tight pants barely rode up over his hips and exposed a delicious iliac crest, the V of sculpted flesh that disappeared into the unintendedly low-rise pants, so tight and small that a coin slot threatened to peek out in the back.

“Stop,” you put up a scandalized hand in the air to cover the sight.

“Oh, we’re just getting started. This was a little amuse-bouche to whet your appetite,” he dashed back towards the large fountain that decorated the Grand Concourse, shooting up a perpetual sheet of water that he used as a blurry changing screen. You heard the rustling of clothing as he changed and spied his tall frame, broad and pallid in his nakedness as he shamelessly stripped and redressed. If he meant to titillate you, that was such a cheap, juvenile way to do it. And it was working exactly to plan.

*

When he emerged next, Julian was in a black tank top and leather jacket, with a douchey bedazzled pair of sunglasses and a thick, iced out chain around his neck that supported a dinner plate-sized pendant. He walked in deliberate slow motion, taking off his glasses in a mock-seductive way and shook out his long hair like in a shampoo commercial.

“Let me guess – this outfit says all the world’s preeminent douchebags gathered together for a Mortal Kombat-style tournament, and you emerged victorious?”

“Where do you think I got the medal?” he tapped the large adornment that hung on the chain, right on his breastbone and winked with an accompanying mouth click.

Deliberately, taking his time, he shucked off the jacket, flexing every bit of his hulking, rippling anatomy, from the broad expanse of his chest that made the gaudy medallion twitch, to his bulging biceps and lean, defined triceps. The jacket slid down his long, sinewy forearms and he caught it in one hand, giving it an elegant spin and tossed it at you like a stripper.

You made no attempt to catch it and it fell over your head and shoulders like a blanket over a cage. “Ju-li-an-uh!” you scolded, tacking an extra, whiny syllable to the end of his name and you could feel him grin, as he always did when you said his name like that.

By the time you peeled the discarded garment off, he was halfway up his runway again, walking away in the same slow motion as he came in. He did the famous model midway turn, sending a suitably douchey air kiss flying towards you before running a hand through his lustrous hair, and completing the turn.

*

If his last ridiculous outfit inadvertently made you hot and bothered, the PTA dad getup he came out in next took care of that awkward predicament. In khakis, a pastel polo and, mother of god, her majesty the fanny pack hugging around his hips, he was the picture of a frumpy suburban dad who had simply given up. With his hair parted hideously down the middle and tucked behind his prominent ears, you could scarcely believe it was the same person as the smokeshow from a few minutes ago.

“Hm,” you frowned and inspected him as he gave you a view from every angle.

“What?” he planted his hands on his hips and tapped one mock-irritated foot on the ground.

“Nothing, it’s just… The juxtaposition of your boulder thighs bunching up the fabric in the legs, but then it’s all loose in the caboose.”

“Yeah, I never boasted much of an ass,” he conceded without any fight.

“I like it,” you assured. “It’s mysterious.”

Julian knew a trap when he saw one, but he was too tickled not to step into it. “Mysterious?” he echoed and let you drive your blow home.

“Yeah, like - where did it go? What is it doing right now? Did it find some other backside to form a symbiotic relationship with?”

He shook his head confidently. “I think it actually burned up during launch, and it’s highly insensitive of you to bring up.” You engaged in a staredown with him, trying to keep a straight face, but laughter bubbled up inside you and you doubled over with it.

“Anyway, you keep distracting me, we’re gonna be late for the parent-teacher conference,” he chided.

“We?” you managed to choke out, stomach cramping with too much laughter.

“Yes, we,” he pointed to one of the roombas milling around. “Typical of you to forget all about little Buzz.”

“I’m sorry, Buzz,” you said contritely.

“And I will not have it,” he straightened to his full height and adjusted the fanny pack snootily. “Come on, son, let’s go,” he ordered the roomba and the little critter zoomed after him.

*

Over time, the recording sessions became a document of you falling in love, slowly and gently, like flecks of stardust suspended in zero gravity. Most days, you were fairly sure Julian was feeling the same. He drank you in with his eyes whenever you were together, especially when he thought you didn’t realize. And you worked hard not to realize, to give him those small pleasures. The fact remained, though, that you were in an unprecedented situation – brought together by total accident and effectively doomed to each other. One couldn’t help but wonder how much of your attraction and blossoming friendship was a coping mechanism. No one could blame you for it, really, one way or the other.

Still, you had a cache of nagging, burning questions and you kept chomping at the bit to fire off a few. Most urgently, the fiancée he once hinted at briefly. Was she in one of the pods, slumbering peacefully and dreaming of reuniting with him many years and many more miles on? Or was she back on Earth, unable to give it all up for him, by now wrinkled and gray, looking up at the sky where his trail had long evaporated?

“You, uh,” you tried for a casual tone, but couldn’t meet his eyes, “mentioned, I think, a fiancée or something. Once. Before.” Well, that was the least casual thing you’d ever said. Talking about the sacrifice of leaving Earth behind to go on an exploratory mission seemed like the best segue you were going to get, so you had to go for it.

Julian was quiet. He nodded once, patient and knowing. Perhaps he wanted you to squirm a little – after all, men tend to get fewer opportunities to enjoy this kind of attention and pursuit. Or he had real trouble talking about her.

“Did she…come with you?” your voice was perceptibly shrunken, growing more timid and unsure with every word. When he understood just how much it was costing you to broach the topic, he was quick to respond.

“No. No,” he shook his head to punctuate and put you out of your misery. Then he took in a deeper breath and started. “We were together…for years,” he frowned like he was recalling a hazy memory from a life lived long ago. “And I fell profoundly out of love with her over time.”

You hoped you kept your face trained from glowing with triumph as you nodded sympathetically.

“Then she got sick. Very…seriously so.” He was being extremely tactful and you knew he had to be reading you like a book. You wouldn’t want to gloat over someone’s misfortune like that even if you were undeniably pleased that Julian was not taken. “The treatment she required was so arduous,” he shook his head, exhausted all over again just from remembering. You wanted to slap yourself for even asking. No wonder he had been so taciturn about it in the past. “And it was insanely expensive. I, uh… felt so guilty over the fact I was about to end things before it all happened, and…over the fact I resented her so much for getting sick in the first place and trapping me somewhere I didn’t want to be,” he hung his head and closed his eyes as he spoke. You were amazed he was man enough to admit something like that to you. “So I eventually accepted I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I left her alone to deal with it, and changed my focus. It was around the time the company was getting taken over. I was so absorbed in hospital appointments and bills and so out of it from lack of sleep, I missed all the warning signs at work that it was all going to hell. To cut a long, grueling story short - in the end, I lost her and every chance to do what I had dreamed of my whole life in one fell swoop. At least that’s how it felt at the time,” he gave a weary shrug and attempted a smile. It only made his cheek twitch and then it dissolved.

He could have paused for an entire year, you still wouldn’t have found any words to say.

“Told you I had the worst luck. Even spreads to those around me,” he rubbed his eyes, suddenly looking tired and decades older.

“I’m so sorry, Julian,” you finally breathed some feeble words out.

“It was a while ago,” he assured, “we all knew it was coming.”

Mortification made seconds feel like centuries. There was nothing to say, but you still felt like you ought to comfort him somehow. With your jaw set in determination, you decided to make an overture. Hand sliding over the table between you, you reached out for him and he turned his hand over, palm up to receive your touch. You touched the tips of his fingers gently with yours, and moved over his palm, smooth and tough all at once, like the choicest leather. Your fingers traced the ridges of his palm and you rested your hand in his, enjoying the warmth you shared in that quiet, intimate moment. Then you slid further up, snaking your fingers to his wrist, feeling his pulse point throb under your skin and gripped his wrist like you were locking your hands together to pull the other one up over a ledge. He wrapped his large, thick hand around your wrist, eclipsing it, and squeezed.

Gradually, the mood changed and you felt the ghosts of his past dissipate around you. He became his usual devilish self again and you felt his grip around your wrist slacken, but grow more tender as he stroked his thumb over the thin, sensitive skin of your forearm.

“What about you?” he asked quietly and the low volume masked some of the tremulous quality of his voice.

It was easy to answer. “I’ve never had anyone I was considering spending the rest of my life with,” you shrugged. “It was always too abstract of an idea for me, too daunting to make one choice with no take-backsies, so I never really seriously considered it.”

Julian rested his face in his hand and looked at you with a mix of adoration and puzzlement, the way people stare in awe and disbelief at stunning works of art in museums. Unfortunately, you were both too clever to woo peaceably, as the Bard once wrote. Nothing that was left unsaid escaped either of your attention and you could read it clearly in the other’s eyes.

“Until now,” you put the unspoken into words. Leave too much of this tension crackling in the air and you could lose your mind from it. Better to acknowledge the obvious since no escape from it was possible anyway. “Now it’s you, whether you like it or not,” you kicked the ball into his court and forced him to respond.

“I think I like it way too much,” he drawled lazily out and stilled his caressing fingers, making you even more starkly aware of your skin touching.

*

Mills retired early after dinner. She had apologized again for bringing up his onetime fiancée, still worried she had upset him and that was the reason he was seeking some solitude. He reassured her it was fine and he just needed some shuteye. Not a lie in itself – Mills hadn’t been sleeping too well the last couple of weeks. But it had more to do with the things that were tormenting him currently rather than the things he left in the past.

He tossed and turned for hours nearly every night, replaying the events of the day that included her, analyzing conversations and chastising himself for not being quippier or more gallant or clever. If he wasn’t working himself up into an owlishly-awake, anxious frenzy, then he drifted off into fitful bursts of sleep, in which she either murdered him in inventive ways as revenge for what he had done, or he had her under him for a few blissful, fulfilling moments until he jerked awake to find himself bucking and grinding against his mattress.

He smoothed his hands down his long face and sighed, feeling his skin burn and chafe, too small for the desire it was straining to hold in. Siding his hands and roving down his body, he found the waistband of his pajamas and he groped inside, exhausted in advance by the repetitive actions he was forced to take daily and nightly.

Mills hissed lowly as he gripped himself at the base, feeling an insistent knot buried just under the spot where he palmed himself, coiling and tugging, making him grow impossibly harder.

He was punishingly erect, stiff as a board even though he was a cool 40. When he was younger, his older friends had started relying on various pharmaceutical aides to satisfy the jailbait little kittens who had a thing for gnarled pilots even before they hit that milestone. And here he was, tucking throbbing erections into the waistband of his underwear and hoping they were inconspicuous and taking cold showers to achieve the opposite effect. Technically, he was over 70, he rolled his eyes as he remembered, stroking one languid pump all the way up and down, making his thighs shudder in anticipation - so it was even more impressive.

The skin of his straining shaft was silky soft, ridged with veins, and an unforgivable, stubborn hardness inside stretched him to a painful length and thickness, demanding release. With a stifled moan, he licked his full lips and shut his eyes tighter, letting images wash over him.

He always started slowly, perusing his own fantasies like a smorgasbord, clicking his tongs in anticipation, picking out favorite reels and dropping them on his plate.

That she walks into his cabin, quiet and as needy as him, stopping in his doorway as the door slides shut behind her with a muted shuffle across the floor. Her hips sway as she bunches up a satin nightgown into her hands, pulling it higher and higher over her thighs as she approaches him. Without preamble or their usual politeness, she straddles him possessively and grabs two demanding fistfuls of his hair at the base of his skull. He feels the heat of her when she sits on him and she clamps her open mouth over his, hot and sweet, and breathes hard into their hungry kiss.

His hands slip up her body – she’s not going anywhere once he has her – and he brushes her thighs as they hug around him only to wrap his powerful arms around her waist and crush her closer. Her eyes go wide with alarm when she feels how strong he can so effortlessly be, and then she melts into him, kissing him even more fervently when she feels how much he wants her.

She slips her underwear to the side, and they’re both clumsy with eagerness as they line themselves up, panting and moaning even before he’s inside. When she sinks down on him, it’s gradual, but she has no intention of taking it slowly. His heart stops for a moment like it does when he jumps into freezing water. Then he can breathe again and he shudders in his whole body as he feels her rhythm rocking through him as she rides him.

He grips her hips and tosses his head back, feeling the fullness of her body between his hands. She bites on the long curved column of his neck as she undulates up and down, slicking him up and clenching wildly. As her orgasm builds, she grips his back for support, and her soft tits rest against his chest. All he can feel in the world is her, soft and hot and delicious, and none of the tragedies that weave around and through them matter in that moment.

He pumps himself, hard and ruthless, arm cramping with the effort, as he imagines her come undone for him. It’s over too fast because he wants it too much and he falls back onto his bed in a boneless, heaving heap.

Mills’ ear rang like a shot was fired right by his head. He was exhausted, on the cusp of giving himself carpal tunnel, but he was pretty sure he would be able to sleep tonight and function for at least a few hours before the red fog came over him again.

*

He was right. He did manage to fall asleep. He knew he did, and that it was a deep bout of restful sleep because the goddamn fucking groans of metal, sounding like ancient monsters from the pits of hell, made him start awake.

Mills groaned and kicked the blanket off his body, begrudgingly awake. Through his irritation, though, he recognized the noise he was hearing heralded no good news.

He padded barefoot down the vacant corridors, snapping his head in odd directions when he heard particularly ominous creaks. The moans of bending, vibrating metal echoed from the deep bowels and far flung wings of the ship, reverberating and crying mournfully by the time they reached Icarus’ heart. Cutting through the wailing symphony were sharp whipcracks and the pounding of thick sheets of metal comprising Icarus’ exoskeleton, beating like a metallic heart and sending shockwaves through the entire ship.

“Establishing new shield alignment to celestial body Amun-2257B,” a holo device announced, eerily calm in the cacophony of screeching metal and infernal groans. Mills felt the ground vibrate under him, nearly making him lose his footing as the floor jumped back and forth under his feet. He half-expected for the whole ship to snap in two like the Titanic, with sheets of metal shrieking as they peeled and flew off into the freezing, silent void of the cosmos.

The holo repeated its message and Mills regained his balance. If they bothered to give it a semblance of a name, it was a major body. Judging by the allusion to the sun god, this was a star they were passing, likely far more massive and powerful than their own tiny Sun. And Icarus seemed to have strayed right into the radius of its heat and radiation with poorly adjusted protective shields. Mills felt a chill as he considered what damage the ship could sustain from mere seconds of exposure, let alone minutes or hours. It was worrying that the correct parameters were not set well in advance given how carefully their route was planned. Before he had time to consider more in depth how such a catastrophic oversight could have happened, Mills heard his name.

*

“Julian,” she whimpered in the drowning sounds of the maelstrom exploding around them.

He wished she would call out louder so he could run in the direction of her voice, but as he bellowed out her name, powerful and reassuring, he spied her emerging from the corridor that led towards her cabin.

Another rumble shook the ship and it sent her staggering backwards. She fell back against the wall and let herself slide down it, relieved now that she had seen him, striding purposely, furiously towards her. As he approached, she extended her arms towards him in a childlike gesture, and he grabbed her roughly, pulling her up and into his embrace. She was shaking like a leaf as he held her. The spaghetti strap top she slept in left much of her skin exposed, and he felt it smooth and warm under his hands, where he held her close, and on his cheek, where he rested it on her shoulder, breathing in the feminine scent of her skin and hair.

Gradually, the rumbles and moans abated, and the ship seemed to twist and snap itself into the proper configuration, leaving a few echoes reverberating in odd intervals and a few residual aftershocks shuddering softly under their feet. Mills peeled the protective layer of his body away from hers, revealing her eyes to be trained on him, wide and teary, asking for some explanation.

“A little rattling and groaning is to be expected now and again,” he croaked in a voice still gravelly from sleep. “The temperatures here, the environment, the pressure  - it’s so unlike Earth. This was just metal contracting and expanding. Taking a few breaths,” he winked reassuringly. But this is a lot, he knew. He just hoped she didn’t. No need for both of them to get stress ulcers.

*

You were still counting your breaths and trying to accept the fact that the hideous, Lovecraftian roars of galactic demons that ripped you out of sleep and practically shook you of bed could be explained with a simple reaction to heat and cold and pressure. Rationally, you accepted it to be true, but your heart still raced like a frightened rabbit’s inside your chest.

“Everything will be alright,” Julian promised in a low, gentle voice. “Breathe,” he commanded softly, splaying a hand on your chest, “breathe right into this spot.”

From your breastbone to your throat, you felt his massive paw of a hand that stretched hot and tender across your heart and warmed a soothing spot into which to focus your breaths. It started to work almost instantaneously, allowing your chest to grow less constricted, admitting more air and deeper breaths. You closed both your hands over his when you felt steady and thanked him for calming you.

“You’re not gonna fall asleep easily after this?” he asked with a jocular sort of tone

“Not fucking likely,” you suddenly remembered yourself and crossed your arms self-consciously over your chest, hidden behind only a thin tank top.

“Would you let me show you something?” Julian extended a hand and waited unobtrusively for you to decide whether you wanted to take it.

*

“Welcome to the observation deck,” the holo greeted as you entered a large room that resembled an empty gallery. A long viewing pane ran alongside its edge and there were rails to hold onto close to the glass, as well as seats a bit further in back.

The room was bathed in a muted orange light as screens and multiple filters protected the inhabitants of the observation deck from the intense glare of the star the Icarus was passing. You felt a crackling energy inside the room that made all the small hairs on your body stand.

Julian kept one hand on the small of your back, sensing your unease, and pressed a spot in the wall. A compartment opened dutifully and he pulled out two sets of protective goggles. They resembled shooting glasses in design and were made to protect the eyes of the wearer from various types of radiation and damage that could be caused if they chose to view some of the bodies and phenomena along the way.

“Amun-2257B is in view and will remain visible for three minutes and fourteen seconds,” the holo announced. “Safe aperture is 1% to 7%. Please be advised that setting the aperture higher and allowing more brightness into the viewing room will result in irreversible damage to you retinas.”

Julian offered a set of goggles to you questioningly, having already donned his. You took yours with a dose of trepidation.

“Icarus, set aperture to 4%,” he commanded and slid his hand to your waist, giving your side a supportive squeeze.

As the screen before you came to life and started to admit light from the outside, you checked your goggles were securely on your face and felt Julian gently nudge you towards the railing. You frowned, thinking that it was an unnecessary feature for a room designed purely for people to essentially gaze out of a window.

“1%,” the holo informed.

With a loose grip, you placed your hands on the railing and Julian came up behind you, securing his chest behind yours and grabbing the railing firmly with his massive hands.

More light came pouring in and you squinted, as the color changed from orange to a yellow, then golden, seeming to grow hotter by the instant and approach a white hue.

“2%,” you heard the holo again, but it sounded more distant somehow.

More light poured in, and more, until it seemed impossible for the room to get any brighter. The intensity of it seemed to blow you back and you found yourself pushing into Julian’s broad, immovable chest. The punishing, devouring light seemed to go through you, stabbing pathways between the atoms in your body to rush through, disintegrating you in the process.

“3%,” the voice said after what seemed like an eternity, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. You felt your hands ache from how hard you were gripping the railing now and you tried to scream, but no sound appeared to come out.

Watering, and seemingly burning up, your eyes adjusted the smallest bit and you spied the outline of the infernal star in front of you. Gaseous explosions danced in a foggy miasma around it, giving it the appearance of a watery haze, like air trembling above a hot flame.  Black mushroom clouds bloomed and died on its face, and fiery whips cracked in its halo as the star mercilessly burned in its seemingly eternal flame.

“4%,” at last you heard the words you had come to dread, expecting that you would scatter like so much dust once the full aperture hit. Instead, the light made you feel incorporeal. As if the flames split your body open and let your soul out, you felt a euphoric freedom, an intoxicating oneness with the unknowable universe around you. Without blinking, you held the star in your eyes and felt something that didn’t have a name vibrate in a place inside you that was too vast to conceptualize.

It felt like a lifetime later, but you gradually returned to your body, feeling not yourself first, but Julian’s warmth where you rested against him. His arms closed around you and you saw the viewing window disappear from you and the room spin. You realized he was carrying you to one of the seats. You were already sitting down and he was holding you by the wrists to keep you from tipping backwards before bodily sensation started to return and you registered the hardness of the chair under you and his skin touching yours.

Then you felt your eyes stinging and the familiar feeling of salt crusted on your cheeks, drying out the skin underneath. Your mouth was stretched in a delirious smile and you realized you were feeling just about every emotion heretofore known to you, and a plethora of new ones.

As light drained from the room, you felt the contrast of darkness to the light. While light slashed through you and tore apart, one spec at a time, darkness held you softly, like a black cloud, shrouding you safely in its gentle cloak and it soothed.

*

She shook again, more aggressively than before, but this time, Mills wasn’t too concerned about it. The first time he saw a star, it was much farther away than this one and he came to sprawled on his back, feeling as deranged as he imagined Moses must have after having a fun little chat with a burning bush.

He held her hands gently, patient as if with a child. Her eyes were wild with that same indescribable revelation that he had felt before and he relished seeing her luminous body absorb it.

She suddenly focused her eyes on his, half-lidded with a desire to do anything but sleep.

A tingle at the base of his spine warned he was about to break out into a sweat. His cock again twitched to life and it brought irritation more than anything; if he kept it up, he would flay the skin right off of it.

Ju-li-an-uh, he heard her inner monologue, just fucking kiss me already. There may be many ways to interpret a lot of different things in life, but not that. She was fixing him with a stare like a ravenous lioness does to a hobbling zebra.

He feigned obliviousness and tested to see if she was stable enough to sit up on her own, Mills would never accuse himself of being overly gentlemanly. In any other circumstance, he would not let the fact that they had been through a distressing situation stop him from stealing a kiss. In fact, the vigorous, affirming sessions of fucking that occasionally followed such events were among some of his favorite experiences. Nor would he shy away from pouncing on her when she was touched by some gesture of his or an experience, like seeing a star up close. Penguins didn’t go combing miles of beach for the perfect pebble just to then turn around and let the female consider if she liked him for his personality or for the shiny, smooth pebble he waddled over to her.

What made him turn away was the guilty knowledge that some day, probably a very distant one, she would know the terrible truth. And he knew a mind as incisive as hers would go through every key moment and event of their lives together, and examine with a newfound harshness how he chose to behave while she was in the dark. He decided, long ago, that he would give her no further reasons to hate him for any transgression, no matter how small. So he tore himself away, stood and offered to get her a glass of water.

She visibly deflated when he pulled away, though she still appeared to feel as electrified as before.

He returned promptly, walking there and back with a brisk pace, and offered her a tall glass of water from the bar. She didn’t look up to his eyes, or even his face as she took it, and slowly drained half of it. Mills narrowed his eyes as he sensed her pull away, and he was quite sure she was feeling embarrassed.

She got up and walked around him in a purposely long arch, staying out of the intimate zone where they could extend their arms and touch,

You fucking idiot, he cursed at himself. She was an irresistible blend of proud and sensitive, and his apparent hesitation or lack of interest sent her retreating from him in a furious hurry. There was no convenient way to explain himself without explaining everything, and his teeth gnashed in frustration.

“You should finish that,” he tossed casually over his shoulder before she could leave. “These viewings leave you really dehydrated. I’ll take the glass back with me,” he turned and extended a hand expectantly.

She only briefly glanced up at him and started to approach with affected reluctance. Mills waited until she had drunk enough to tip the bottom of the glass up. “And I’d like to take you out on a real date tomorrow night,” he added matter-of-factly.

He heard the gurgle of water as it stuck in her throat and she coughed, lurching forward, sending water splashing back into the glass, mostly, save for what came out of her nose.

Mills took the one and then one more step left between them to close the distance and took the glass out of her hand, landing a few vigorous pats on her back, just on the other side of gentle. “Is that a yes, then?” he asked through his grin and she glared, still clearing her throat and catching her breath. An elbow he narrowly missed sinking into his side told him all he needed to know.

She gave a melodious girlish giggle and attempted another playful smack, this time with her small fist on his shoulder. He let her land that one, but then caught her by the arm and held her tightly to him, just fast enough that she couldn’t squirm away and close enough to let her feel some of his large body, taut with desire for her, impose on her. Better to give her a small preview of what to expect the following evening than to take her completely by surprise the first time he towers over her, looming and starving for her. “Now straight to bed with you,” he commanded in a flat, husky voice, “we have a long day and a long night ahead of us.” Mills’ face remained inscrutable while his hand came whizzing in an arch to land a smack on her ass, right on the spot he was eyeing all day.

*

@thegrislady @safarigirlsp​  @queeniebee​ @lumberjack00fantasies​ @vedavan​ @house-of-cadwyn​

[ovaruling]

hey girl! happy to—the buccal fat removal was pretty simple compared to the other surgeries, but it was still very painful. as i understand it, the surgeon made incisions on the inside of both of my cheeks, and entered that way, and sucked out the “buccal fat yolk,” as he called it. he explained to me that there’s a pouch of fat there that is yolk-like, and does not usually disappear, even with dramatic weight loss, except in cases of extreme malnutrition where there is no reserve left. that’s how he put it, anyway.

so, he essentially stabbed inside my cheeks through up where the “cheek fat” was, just under my cheekbones, and sucked the fat through those incisions and stitched them from the inside. it was, as i said, extremely painful, and eating and drinking was very difficult for a long time. the scars are inside my cheeks and i can still feel them if i run my tongue over them.

the entire cheek area on both sides, inside and out, is mostly numb. sort of like… when Novocain has started to wear off at the dentist.

but i get sudden, electrifying wallops of pain where the buccal fat used to be at completely random times. i get at least one or two a day. it is pretty agonizing, ngl. it feels like instantaneous nerve pain, if you’ve ever had a dentist nick a nerve on a sensitive tooth. it runs through the cheek into my sinuses and down into my gums and it takes my breath away. when these episodes first started happening i genuinely thought i was having a stroke.

i get a lot of migraines now (brow and temple) and my jaw sits really uncomfortably—i’m always having to bite my inner cheeks or suck my cheeks in manually, or else they become fatigued.

a good experiment is—try to hold your mouth open as long as you can. just—open like a crocodile. as wide as you can go, until your cheeks reach the utmost point of fatigue. that’s what it feels like all the time if i try to relax my face—unless i am constantly drawing in my cheeks or making a “duck face,” my cheeks feel fatigued. i don’t know why—maybe they’re strained without the fat there to support them. collapsing, i guess.

it’s really uncomfortable tbh. i’ve gotten used to it, but it sucks.

and it just looks weird as hell too. all it did was age me and make me look dehydrated and starved.

ykw, i guess it really has affected how i do everything with my mouth and facial expressions. they all had to change in some way to accommodate the new “dimensions.” i wish i could show a before and after pic, bc i had a ton of nice healthy buccal fat and now i just look soooo hollowed out and honestly i look so bad lol. i smile differently, i make all my expressions differently. what feels “natural” is kind of weird—cheeks sucked in manually, or lips sucked into my mouth manually. biting of upper and lower lips into the mouth. just… a constant need to draw the face inward to relieve the cheek fatigue.

which leads me to say that once again there does not seem to be a resting position for my face anymore. it’s a neverending strain on the cheek muscles. maybe that’ll change over time—or maybe i’ll strengthen the cheek muscles with facial yoga, idk. but for now it’s a constant nagging need to keep my cheeks sucked in or my lips drawn into my mouth, like this…

…so that they’re supported in some way from the fatigue. idk, it’s really weird. hate it.

the sudden pains are pretty bad too esp bc i never know when they’ll happen. there’s no trigger, really, but i have noticed that cold or hot drinks/foods mean they’ll happen within the half hour. the worst is when they happen WHILE i’m drinking hot coffee or am mid-chew in food. i’ve almost choked a few times that way, lol. super annoying.

that’s all i can think of for now! hopefully that helps a bit. please feel free to ask any specific questions i didn’t answer!

[brokenntable]

Haii, i am a new luvity. Can i request about them? Could you please write how cravity reactions when ycomforting you if you worried so much? Thank you ^^

welcome! ofc I can, please- I'm writing this with a high fever... I'm sorry if I make any mistakes. ALSO HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY ALLEN 🐧

Cravity Members Comforting You

Serim

as a leader, I'm sure Serim has seen plenty of stress and worry in all sorts of formats. I can imagine at first meeting you he'd start noticing small details about your emotions, things you didn't know about yourself. so if one day he saw how distressed and panicked you were, even if you thought you held it well, Serim would be the first to pull you aside and ask you to talk about how you were feeling. I wouldn't allow you to bottle up your feelings. I think he would really try offer solutions but as well be there to be a shoulder to cry on. he'd allow you to let it all out before picking you up off your feet and wanting you to do something fun to relieve you of your stress. I can see him suggesting you join a yoga class or something of the sort for no apparent reason.

Allen

fixer-upper, fix-it Allen indeed. Allen is for sure going to try and break down your worries and do his best to try and fix them, he doesn't like to see you worrying so he'll try and manually take it away. worried over an exam? Allen will sit and help you study until you're fully confident. worrying about a presentation? he will ask his members to join him as you do your presentation in front of them all. start off small, aim bigger. his love language is acts of service im sure, there's no escaping it.

Jungmo

I can imagine believing Jungmo would be awkward at first hearing you're panicking over something but I really think he would have such a caring approach, especially after seeing how much stress you're under. don't think you can escape his grasp, you'll be locked in his affection and hugs until he's ready to let go. Jungmo isn't very good with words so I can imagine he'll try his best in every other way to help. he'll play with your hair, order your favourite food, check in on you as much as possible.

Woobin

you know what's one of the most comforting things; food. and when I tell you, woobin would cook the most scrumptious, mouth watering comfort food ever. you would cry eating it. all jokes aside, good food and a heart to heart would solve so many issues and I think that would be woobin's approach if he saw you worrying one day. and, if you weren't ready to talk about it, that would be completely okay too, he's happy to just stay by your side and assist to make sure your as okay as he can possibly get you to. I'm also positive he's memorised all your favourite foods to.

Wonjin

I have watched enough produce x 101 to tell you, if you're worried, Wonjin will do anything in his power to help you in any shape he can. he cares so much about everyone he will try and carry your burdens giving hugs, distractions, solutions. you name it, he'll do it. he's also super sentimental as well, he will definitely try and talk it out with you until you realise most of your worries were irrational. you walk out after a conversation with Wonjin thinking you can take on the world.

Minhee

minhee's such a difficult one because he's so unpredictable. if he found out you're worried I can imagine he'd definitely knit his brows together and think what he can do to help. Definitely pats you on the back (like one of those dad pats). I also think though that Minhee notices very small details about you too. like when your sad you only eat a very specific flavour or type of food. or ur at ur most happy when you drink a specific drink. he would go out of his way to go get them without you even being aware. or if you were stressed and couldn't keep on top of things, he would do small things like your washing, or make your bed to ease your burden.

Hyeongjun

at first, Hyeongjun seeing you panic would definitely make him panic. he's someone who will reflect how you're feeling but he also cares a lot about you so if you're worried he'd try really hard to distract you from your worries. he's the type to drag you out of your room to go do fun things, take you out for desserts or a karaoke bar. no better stress relief then screaming down a microphone. and not to forget either, hyeonjun gives the best hugs, no doubt he will be hugging and clinging onto you all day too.

Taeyoung

I can see him definitely encouraging the both of you at least once a week to talk about feelings and emotions with each other. even if it isn't something deep, I think taeyoung would be a really efficient communicator. besides all the jokes and laughs, if you stress to him you were stressed and worried I think he would try to work through it together. he's another member who will try and break down how you feel and try and help you but he also definitely keeps it light hearted and can't help crack a joke here and there because he also wants to see you smile.

Seongmin

another panicker me thinks. I think Seongmin would be happy to help you though if you're worried as I think Seongmin would go all out. at first he would take you out to take your mind off of thinks. you go clothe shopping, you eat ice cream and take pictures together. then, when he knows you're in a better position, he'll ask what's bothering you and he will offer to help the best way he can.

I have irlens syndrome, if anything is spelt bad its because I can't read. have a nice day <3

[neviiv]

୨✦୧┆Selfcare menu girl manual

summary: morning self-care basic routine,schedules and explanations ₍ ੭ᐢ..ᐢ)੭ 8 creative and healthy routine steps/ideas main guide by @blushbisous

Morning routine!

Selfcare menu

Stretch your body

Exercising for 5 to 10 minutes helps stretch your body. You can try a few stretching exercises.

Listen to your favorite song

Listen to your favorite song during the preparation process, it will make you feel more comfortable and ready to start the day.

Read chapter o a book

Reading a chapter of a book just a little helps clear your mind, wake up better and increase knowledge depending on the book.

Put on a face mask

Put on a facial mask that cleans and hydrates your face and in the morning this process is essential to refresh it.

Journal your thoughts

Writing down your thoughts helps organize them and setting daily goals is very important!

Try a new recipe

Trying a new recipe is quite optional but this helps us try new things every day and expand our tastes/knowledge.

Do some yoga/meditation

Yoga/meditation helps you relax if you are tense and clears your thoughts. It is quite gentle and refreshing.

Take a bubble bath

Just like yoga, it helps you relax and is refreshing, and you stay clean, which is the most important thing.

@blushbisous

[rocketturtle4]

get to know me ask game

Tagged by @lurkingshan and @thegalwhorants and @pandasmagorica this seems so fun!

@pandasmagorica pointed out in their post that bolding the text doesn't allow differentiation for people using screen readers and so added modifier words so that the text made sense when read out loud.

@thegalwhorants coloured hers, presumably just for fun and I liked it? I have been politely informed this makes it hard for some people to read so I took out the colours :)

And @lurkingshan added occasional info in small text in brackets. I have chosen to do all of these things.

RULES: bold the ones that are true & tag 10 people to do it.

APPEARANCE

I have blonde hair // I do not prefer loose clothing to tight clothing (I tend to like either in different circumstances) // I have one or more piercings // I do not have at least one tattoo// I have not dyed or highlighted my hair // I have not gotten plastic surgery // I have not had braces (I have had a full jaw expanding plate though) // I sunburn easily // I have a few freckles // I paint my nails // I do not typically wear makeup // I do often smile (This was expressed originally in the negative sense so I'm not going to bold it) // I am pleased with how I look // I do not know what Nike and Adidas are other than brands... shoes maybe or like clothing in general? // I do not wear baseball hats backwards (or at all, broad brimmed hats only)

HOBBIES & TALENTS

I do not currently play a sport (unless yoga counts?) // I cannot play an instrument well // I am artistic // I do not know more than one language // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition (back in the school days) // I can cook or bake without a recipe (only specific memorised dishes) // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing (non fiction) // I can not do origami // I do not prefer movies to tv shows // I cannot execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could not survive in the wild on my own// I have read a new book series this year (although barely, finding BL killed my reading) // I enjoy spending time with friends // I do not typically travel during work or school breaks // I can do a handstand (in a pool or against a wall, not freestanding)

RELATIONSHIP

I am not in a relationship // I have been single for over a year // I do not have a crush // I have a best friend who I’ve known for ten years // my parents are together // I have not dated my best friend // I am not adopted // my crush has not confessed to me // I do not have a long distance relationship // I am not an only child // I give advice to my friends (only when they ask for it) // I have made an online friend (new experience this year!) // I have not met up with someone I have met online (sounds like fun though)

AESTHETICS

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sun rise // I enjoy rainy days // I have slept under the stars // I do not meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me (though it depends on the bird) // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I don't know what snow tastes like (I don't even know what it looks like in person) // I listen to music to fall asleep (as a last resort) // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire (so so many) // I do not pay close attention to colours (though I'm trying to learn to) // I find mystery in the ocean // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favorite season (In Aus this is March through May)

MISCELLANEOUS

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle (being in a moving vehicle puts me to sleep if I'm not driving) // I am the mom friend (less now that we're all adults) // I do not live by a certain quote // I like the smell of sharpies (though I try not to smell them) // I am involved in extracurricular activities // I enjoy Mexican food // I can drive a stick shift (if this is the same thing as a Australian manual) // I do not know if I believe in true love (I believe that any love has the potential to be true) // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower // I wish I lived in a video game (if I got to pick the game) // I do not have a canopy above my bed // I am not multiracial // I am a redhead (I am both red and blond) // I do not own at least 3 dogs (though across my immediate family (parents and siblings), we have 8. None of them are specifically mine)

Tagging @plantsarepeopletoo @wen-kexing-apologist @grapejuicegay @wanderlust-in-my-soul @stuffnonsenseandotherthings If you want to join!

[realinspirations]

Rise and Shine: 10 Morning Habits for a Productive Day

 Morning Habits Productive Day An efficient morning routine can set the tone for a successful day. For college students, a nicely dependent morning can assist enhance cognizance, awareness, and overall instructional overall performance. Here's a thousand-word guide to creating an effective morning ordinary.

Wake Up Early

Set a regular alarm Choose a wake-up time that allows you sufficient time to finish your morning recurring without feeling rushed. Avoid hitting snooze: This can disrupt your sleep cycle and make it more difficult to awaken. Place your alarm away from your bed: This will pressure you to arise to turn it off.

Start Your Day with Gratitude

Practice gratitude: Take a few minutes to reflect on the things you're thankful for. This can assist enhance your temper and mindset. Keep a gratitude journal: Write down stuff you're thankful for every morning.

Move Your Body

Exercise: Engage in bodily interest, inclusive of yoga, stretching, or a quick workout. Exercise can boost energy ranges and enhance cognitive features.

Healthy Breakfast

Fuel your body: Eat a nutritious breakfast to offer your frame the electricity it wishes to start the day. Choose entire foods: Opt for entire grains, fruits, greens, and lean proteins. Stay hydrated: Drink a glass of water to stay hydrated throughout the morning.

Mindful Meditation or Deep Breathing

Practice mindfulness: Take a couple of minutes to consciousness in your breath and be present in the moment. Reduce pressure:  Meditation can help lessen stress and tension, improving your capability to pay attention. Use a meditation app: There are many apps available to manual you via meditation sessions.

 Review Your Schedule

Plan your day: Take a few minutes to study your each-day agenda and prioritize duties. Set goals:: Determine what you want to accomplish that day and ruin down large obligations into smaller, extra-doable steps.

Get Ready for the Day

Personal hygiene: Shower, brush your teeth, and get equipped for the day. Choose your outfit: Select suitable garb for your sports. Pack your property: Make sure you've got the whole thing you need for college or work.

Learn Something New

Read an e-book or article: Expand your knowledge with the aid of reading something academic or exciting. Take a web course: Explore online getting to know systems to study new competencies or topics. Listen to a podcast: Stay updated on present-day activities or find out about subjects that hobby you.

Spend Quality Time with Loved Ones

Connect with family or friends: Talk quickly with someone you care about.Show appreciation: Express gratitude for the people to your lifestyle.

Positive Affirmations

Boost your shallowness: Repeat nice affirmations to yourself to enhance yourself-belief and self-belief.

Choose affirmations that resonate with you: Personalize your affirmations to cause them to be more effective.

[pellaeas]

new computer is 16", coming from a 7 year old 14"

i haven't done the math but between the bezels and stuff but oh my god. this screen has to be twice the size. luxurious rolling hills of screen. and 400 nits instead of 300!!! i can work outside of a fucking dungeon now in exotic locales such as: the living room

the speakers are an incredible update too. on my old machine they were so bad i tried not to use them above 30% volume and even then only if i was too lazy to get an external speaker. these ones i would actually listen on for pleasure

i'm still on a lenovo because i am one of the dozen remaining devotees of the clit mouse, and because on my old machines including complex-hinged ultra-thin machines like the Yoga, I have taken the whole thing apart front to back twice to make my own repairs with a standard philips screwdriver (once out of warranty screen issue, another for i dropped it down the stairs and broke the top case) and the easy-access manual on their website. also that time i dropped it down the stairs it weathered remarkably well

I got what I hope are some very nice specs for 55% off via the refurb outlet, which should be A-OK especially since I have experience repairing this line of machines if I ever need to

[pyramidyogshala]

Join the ever-growing legion of yogis who are finding new ways to expand their practice and become RYS certified teachers with this practical guide to teacher training in Rishikesh. Yoga will indeed take its rightful place in the manual as its principles, philosophy, and techniques are assimilated as you immerse yourself into the spiritual environment of this holy sanctuary. From learning how to lead alignments and sequences to developing exceptional teaching skills, every stage of your yoga teacher training has been built with defined aims in mind. Situated between the classical touch and modernity, Rishikesh is an ideal place to take your practice to the next level as well as inspires others who are on journey to explore the healthy and blissful lifestyle.