#though i think they get one of those lamps people use to grow weed inside the house. they help her photosynthesize
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the-lark-ascending69 · 9 months ago
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android!Robin has several technical problems, the most important ones having to do with her memory card, battery and motor skills.
Androids are supposed to have perfect photographic memory, but Robin's memory is poor even by human standards. She tends to forget where she left her keys, what she was going to do when walking into a room, etc. She forgets her schedule all the time, as well as Nancy's, and can't remember a recipe to save her life. Dustin and Suzie say it's a problem with the connections needed to access her memory card, rather than with the memory card itself. It's fixeable, but extremely difficult and expensive. Robin wants to get this fixed and she's working hard to pay for it - she doesn't want to be an inconvenience. Nancy will support her decision, but she really isn't bothered by Robin's poor memory. She just hopes she's doing it for herself and not to make herself "easier to handle" for other people (she's been told that's what her worth was based on her entire life).
She's only had one memory card her entire life (as far as she knows). Nancy's greatest fear is Robin hitting her head and it breaking. One could potentially take out the memory card and delete it or install a new one - that is Robin's greatest fear.
At one point, her connections get so bad there will be days in which she can't remember Nancy at all, or what her own name is. She'll act almost like a normal android those days - following orders, not speaking unless necessary, not expressing emotion unless instructed to, etc, though her poor motor skills, battery problems and bad memory will make it difficult. It freaks Nancy out every time, and she always tries to get her to snap out of it as if she were human, before accepting that love can't solve this problem, and calling Dustin and Suzie to fix it. She'll pay any price if it means having her Robin back.
Robin lets herself be turned off without complaint, without even the terrified shudder Nancy used to feel when she forcibly did it during their first weeks together. Robin's docile obedience as she let Nancy do this to her, and the way her body went limp in Nancy's arms, never failed to bring Nancy to tears.
It would take days for Dustin and Suzie to fix some of Robin's problems. This one took between one and two weeks. Longest it ever got was 16 days. During that time, Robin would lay lifeless on their workshop's table, her battery sitting somewhere else to prevent her from turning on automatically. Dustin insisted that he and his lady (as he called Suzie) worked best when their kingdom (their workshop) was untouched by foreign hands, so Nancy wasn't always welcome to visit Robin in that state. Nancy was relentless, though, and she usually managed to convince him to let her in for a few minutes. He thinks it's pointless - it's not like Robin can feel her there. She can't even dream. It doesn't change anything. In fact, he worries Nancy will be more disturbed than comforted, because Robin's entire skull, neck and spine will be exposed - only it's not bones and flesh inside, but metal and plastic circuits, plates, chips, wires and pistons. He's careful to at least put her face back in place when Nancy visits. He expects her to be taken aback by the sight, but instead, Nancy's eyes are full of so much worry and care and adoration as she observes Robin's lifeless body. She doesn't dare touch her - she doesn't want to hurt her. But she misses her so deeply.
When it's all finished, Nancy takes her back home with the utmost care and tucks her into bed. She waits by her side until she turns back on, and softly talks to her, asks her how she's feeling, brings her some water and asks her questions, to see if she's back to normal. Because it's all recorded in her memory card, Robin can remember everything - can remember the time she spent not knowing who she is, thought she can't remember if she was self-aware during those episodes. Whenever she wakes up, she's just happy to see Nancy, and wants hugs and cuddles from her, but she begins to cry out of fear as she tries to remember the details of not being. Nancy holds her every time, asks her if she wants to watch cartoons or if she wants her to read a book for her, to keep her from spiraling. She hates seeing Robin look so small and scared, but she also knows she's not scared of anything Nancy can protect her from. The horrors haunting her come from her own mind and her own nature.
(Dustin and Suzie make a copy of Robin's memory card and give it to her, just in case).
Dustin and Suzie take care of any fixes Robin needs. They're much nicer than any other technician at the previous repair shops she's been to. The most usual fixes have to do with weakness and stiffness in her knees and hips, especially on her right leg (it got broken pretty badly during a beating by her last owner - Billy Hargrove. He wanted to make her unable to walk. The person his father sold her to next did a poor job fixing her). These fixes are usually quite simple and take very little time. She will refuse to see them, though, until she reaches her breaking point when she struggles to stand up, or when she suddenly falls to the ground. It always worries Nancy to death - she's terrified of Robin hitting herself and suffering even more damage. It always takes some convincing for Nancy to get her in her car and on their way to Dustin's workshop. Sometimes, the fix will be so simple they don't even need to turn her off. Nancy holds her hand during these.
The third big problem is her battery. Thankfully, her battery is detachable and easily replaceable. They only had a mayor issue with it once, and they had to order a new one. Robin's model is rare enough that it took over a week to get there. During that time, they installed solar pannels in the balcony and Robin had to be connected to them with long, thick cables that stretched all around the apartment. It was more amusing than anything else, having to step around the cables and make sure none of them got accidentally disconnected. Cloudy days made her pretty much useless and had her lying in bed watching cartoons all day. She was completely turned off after sunset and she was up by sunrise. Needless to say, she couldn't leave the apartment for the week and had to call in sick to work.
Good thing was, though, that the new battery worked much better than the previous one. It lasted much longer. Nancy had only seen her this excited a few other times. The way she kicked her bedroom door down with a wide smile on her face as she yelled at her to come to the kitchen just made Nancy smile with adoration. Robin showed her the box in her hands - she was shaking with excitement - and asked Nancy to help her install it. She turned herself off and Nancy did the rest - disconnected cables, take out old battery, install new one. When she turned Robin back on, she was more full of life and energy than she'd ever seen her be. Free from her cables, she immediately grabbed Nancy's hands and dragged her outside - the sun was shining and she wanted to run around in the park, to roll on the grass and count the cloud and photosynthesize with a good book in her hand. To Nancy, she looked like a puppy, or a happy little bird just released from its cage. She could never say no to her, they would spend the entire day outside if Robin wanted to.
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cinebration · 4 years ago
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Too Young (Forrest Bondurant x Reader) [Request]
I’m fine thank you can I describe my request because there is a no word for this at least i dont know I’m 21 so if you include this in imagine i will be really happy i love forrest bondurant he is shy caring strong and little bit mad giant bear a i want it fluffy and little bit angst I thought forrest wouldn’t want to love younger than him. I hope i can tell what i request because english not my native thank you so much again not much forrest imagine i really love this — Requested by @shooterere
This turned into something more than I expected. I had fun!
Warnings: none
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Gif Source: fandomfatale
Pa operated one of the smaller bootlegging businesses in the county, but the moonshine he made was worth a hundred of the bottles being churned out by other operations in the immediate vicinity. People paid good money for your pa’s moonshine, though you wouldn’t know it to look at you and your family.
You lived in a ramshackle house on the edge of a farm known for producing one good crop for every five. You had just as many siblings, all of them younger than you, racing around the house like demons and driving both you and your beleaguered mother to wits’ end. So when Pa asked you to make a delivery, on account that the oldest of your brothers was a scant fourteen, and the fact that no one would stop you, you leapt at the opportunity. You put on your Sunday best, though it wasn’t much, and drove the old beat-up Ford truck down the country road into town.
It was there you met Forrest Bondurant. He operated the gas station you pulled up to after you delivered the moonshine. The smell of pie wafting from inside the restaurant behind the station was too good to resist.
He sat alone, his hat resting on the table in front of him. Glancing up when you entered, his brow furrowed as you slowly walked through the restaurant and up to the counter. You ordered a slice of the pie and a small cup of coffee, no cream, no sugar.
“This ain’t the watered-downed stuff,” the waitress told you.
“I know.”
The apple pie was thick and rich with apples and cinnamon flavoring. As you sat eating it, you swept your gaze around the room. There weren’t many people inside, but as soon as you fixed on Forrest, all else fell away. He met your eyes levelly, a frown pulling on his mouth. Tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear nervously, you returned to your meal.
He approached you a moment later, the scrape of his chair back against the wooden floor alerting you to his intentions. You swallowed thickly, working up your courage as your heart fluttered with hope.
“You Frost Farm’s oldest?” The way his voice purred made a shiver roll through you even as disappointment followed it. He wasn’t interested in you, only in who your pa was.
“Yeah,” you answered, looking down.
“What are you doin’ here?”
“Making a delivery.”
“Your pa sends you off to do that yourself?”
“My first time today, but he hurt himself, so I figure I’ll be doing it for some time.”
“How’d he hurt himself?”
“He fell,” you lied.
Forrest’s gaze burned through you. Standing firm, you ate the last of the pie and swigged it down with the dregs of the coffee, the bitter mingling with the sweet down your throat. Excusing yourself, you slipped off the stool and kept yourself from sprinting away to the beat of your thumping heart.
~~
Forrest showed up the next day at the farm. You were out in the field, elbow-deep in the dirt, when the truck engine chugged up the dirt road. You recognized it vaguely as one you had seen parked outside the Bondurant gas station. You didn’t see who exited the vehicle.
Turning back to your work, you yanked out another weed and ignored the beating of the sun overhead.
When your stomach rumbled as the sun reached its zenith, you rubbed off the dirt on your apron and headed back inside for lunch. The truck was still parked outside the house.
As you neared the front door, it opened. You froze in your tracks. Forrest Bondurant stepped across the threshold, bidding your parents goodbye with some mumbled words. He paused when he saw you.
“Mr. Bondurant,” you said, nodding nervously.
He nodded back, putting the hat firmly on his head. His gaze swept over you. You became painfully aware of the dirt across your hands and knees and how it stained your apron and dress.
“I’m taking you for your other deliveries,” he mumbled suddenly. “’Til your pa gets better.”
You blinked in surprise, tried to find words. “Thank you.”
He nodded and stepped past you, leaving you stunned on the porch.
~~
The first few deliveries, made in your truck, not Bondurant’s, passed in awkward silence. You didn’t quite mind it so much, if it weren’t for the fact that being nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with the man was sending your senses quite mad. Not even the Franklin boy from the farm next door had made you as deliciously nervous as Forrest did. Your head swam with it.
But the trips after that improved when you began talking to him. You didn’t say too much, because he seemed too quiet to listen to you ramble on. Rather than complain about your siblings or the lack of help for the farm, you focused instead on the moonshine business.
“I dunno know if Pa told you, but we got into trouble with the law,” you said after a delivery. “They wanted our earnings, but Pa told ’em that we don’t have enough to pay. They broke his leg for that.”
“Were you there?”
“Outside, looking between the slats. I waited ’til they were gone before I went in to help Pa.”
Forrest frowned. “Why were you there?”
“I work the stills.”
He fixed you with a stare.
“It’s nothing,” you assured him. “I like the work, honest. It’s very methodical, and I like that.”
Forrest remained silent for the rest of the drive ’til you neared town.
“Show me,” he said.
You hesitated. “But you’re the competition.”
“I won’t steal your secrets. I just want to see.”
You wanted to show him, to impress him, but the idea of the Bondurants taking over your stills or trying to use your methods nagged at you. The desire to please him won out. You turned the car toward the farm and drove well past it, deep into the woods extending beyond it. Then you hooked a right and stopped the truck.
From there, you walked Forrest all the way down into a small ravine that led to a cave in the hill swelling behind it. The cave smelled cool and a bit damp, but you had remedied that with some techniques to moderate the temperature. Forrest made a circuit of the room, eyeing your still critically as you walked him through parts of your process.
“Figure we could make gin this way eventually, too,” you said, “when they lift the Prohibition.”
He looked at you keenly.
“They’ll do it,” you assured him. “Otherwise we’ll have ourselves another war.”
He grunted noncommittally and took a swig from a nearby bottle, testing the quality of the moonshine. The soft light from the oil lamp you had lit bathed his face in warm golds. Caught up by the vision, you reached out and gently touched his cheek.
He froze, turned woodenly to you. The guarded look in his eyes discouraged you.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.
“You’re too young.”
“I’m twenty-one.”
He shook his head.
Frustration welled up within you. You glanced up at him, your hand clenching into a fist at your side. “Too young. Too female. Too fragile. You sound like every other man I’ve ever talked to.”
He blinked in surprise, taken aback by your sudden emotion.
“I can do more than you think I can, and I’m not that fragile. I’ve had to grow up fast, because Ma’s too weak and Pa’s not got enough boys yet to help him.” You grabbed his hand suddenly, pressed his palm flat against yours. “Feel that? I don’t have soft hands. Those are working hands. When I’m not in the fields, I’m in here, making the best goddamn moonshine in the county. I don’t have time, you see, to waste on being young.”
Forrest stared into your face as the wind died out of you. You turned away, suddenly embarrassed by the outburst. “Get out of my workshop.”
He didn’t even hesitate. He walked right of the cave. You waited fifteen minutes before realizing that it was rude to let him walk all the way back to town on foot. You raced to the truck and drove down the road until you found him lumbering across the dirt. You drew up beside him and wordlessly opened the door. He hesitated before climbing up into the cab.
“Sorry,” you mumbled.
You felt his eyes on you the entire drive, as though he were trying to keep you rooted to the spot. At last, you arrived at the gas station.
“You don’t come with me on deliveries anymore,” you said.
He didn’t get out of the car. “Who else has said those things to you?”
“What things?”
“About you being too weak.”
You shrugged. “Everyone. Probably your own damned brothers, for all I know. ‘Waste of a pretty face, making that girl work the fields. She ought to be providing a family.’ But I like the work. I like working.”
The cab filled with silence as Forrest stared out the windshield at the dark restaurant. Exhaustion settled in your bones from the emotional outburst and the pain of rejection.
“If you worked here,” Forrest said suddenly,” your hands wouldn’t be so rough.”
You frowned. “But I don’t work here.”
“I could get someone to work for your pa on the farm,” he continued in a low rumble. “And you could work here and your workshop.”
“Are you offering me a job?”
He grunted.
“Why?”
He shifted uneasily on the seat. “To keep you around, if you won’t let me make deliveries with you.”
The pieces didn’t quite fit together. “Why would you want to keep me around? I’m too young, you said.”
“I did,” he agreed.
“Then why?”
He fixed his eyes on you with a look that said, Do I really have to say it?
You met his gaze for a long while before slowly nodding, feeling something like hope flutter in your chest again. He nodded back, grunted quietly, and wished you a good night as he climbed out of the car.
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elriel-oblivion · 4 years ago
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So it's been four days so here's part two 😁 Just wanted to say a huge thanks to everyone who read/liked/commented/reblogged the last part! It was such an amazing response, especially given it was my first time posting my writing here, so thanks for all the love you shared 🥰🥰
Heads up, this part is actually part one from Elain's pov. Initially I wanted to continue from where the last part left off in Elain's pov, but as I was writing the background, I realised I'd written too much to just skip when Az gets to the estate and cut straight into a continuation of part one, so I ended up rewriting the whole thing in her view. So there's no new elriel moments, but you'll get a lot of new stuff anyway 😅 I would've said you don't have to read this part to understand part three, but when I was rereading the later parts a few hours ago, I realised there's some stuff that alludes to things in this part, so I strongly recommend you don't skip this 😅😅
Also, wow, some of my fave paragraphs I've ever written are in this part 😁 Bonus points if you can find them; there are four I'm thinking of in particular 😉
Word count: ~ 3.1K. Lemme know if you'd like to be tagged/removed 😊 Next part up in two or three days 😊
AO3
Ashes from the Deep
Part II
__
It had been a pretty uneventful day as Elain worked through her new plant textbook. Feyre and Rhysand had decided to spend the weekend away at the mountain cabin, Cassian and Nesta were away doing things she wished not to think of, and Mor was at the Winter Court.
Amren had only been round in the mornings, probably to check Elain was still alive. She'd glance round the living room, examine some of those fine crystal glasses in the display cabinet and then leave. There was no difference today, though Elain always felt Amren's scrutiny upon her even when that muted silver gaze was directed elsewhere; perusing Rhys' wine collection had become a tired ruse.
So besides preparing and taking her meals with Nuala and Cerridwen, Elain had spent her afternoon with her book, making notes and copying drawings. The twins had gone off on some errands, so she'd wandered into the garden at some point to tend to her many plants, telling them how lovely they each were. The crocuses looked particularly stunning this autumn day, their pale violet colour breathing life into the shades beneath some of the trees.
With her book, she'd identified new weeds, digging into the soil to rip some pesky ones out. Sometimes she didn't want the help of a tool; sometimes she needed to feel those roots on her bare skin.
Harvesting the carrots and beetroot was also on the agenda today, along with seeding for some spectacular displays next year. She'd been collecting the seeds from some of her summer blooms, like those soft clouds of baby's breath, saving them to replant. These she sowed directly into ground she'd prepared days before, her fingers digging into the crumbly clumps of earth.
Autumn onions she'd plant tomorrow, perhaps. Feyre always remarked on how their strong taste complimented meats well, so Elain wanted to harvest some fresh for her sister for once. It'd take a few months of waiting, but there was little else better than picking out and eating food one had grown with their bare hands and the essential ingredients of love and care.
Setting her book on the patio table, Elain surveyed the garden. It was a good day's work. Plants watered and sown, weeds uprooted, and hands sweaty and soiled, Elain was proud of what she'd achieved today. There were no distractions, nothing to take her from the one thing she always found satisfaction in.
After a long shower, she found herself back in the garden with a cup of tea and a blanket. The sunset washed the sky in a blaze of red and orange glory before it yielded to the cool tones of twilight then night. Elain sat in silence, hands wrapped around her mug. How long would it be until someone's arms were wrapped around her, until she felt the warmth her sisters finally had?
Silly, these thoughts. Immortality stretched far ahead, there would be time to develop that companionship. Months and years were but a heartbeat in the life of a High Fae. She wouldn't even notice the years pass.
Or so everybody else kept saying.
With her tea finished, she perused the book of recipes she'd borrowed from Nuala. Some recipes jumped out, ingredients for which she'd been growing for a few months now. Pumpkin pie sounded especially delightful, the gourd having almost darkened and hardened to ripe quality just a couple days ago. They should be ready for harvest tomorrow.
A chill wind sent Elain inside to prepare and have her dinner in pleasant silence. Even her mind was quiet tonight. After washing her dishes, she stood by a bay window, fingers idly tapping the windowsill.
Faelights bobbed like tiny lamps, dotted through the garden. The full moon was now high in the sky, its ghostly glow illuminating the datura flowers she'd seeded half a year ago. She pulled on her blanket and went out again for a better look at those gorgeous blooms, the petals opening only at night.
Elain couldn't be happier she'd found seeds of a triple-flowered variety. They'd grown to produce large trumpets, three layers of petals ruffled against each other. Somehow she thought of her sisters as she crouched and stared at the flowers, each layer so similar, yet fighting for space and breath as it unfurled before another. It was only when they were all fully open that they could sigh along the night breeze as one, an ethereal song of togetherness, tinged with notes of poignancy, only heard by those with the will to look deeper.
The white petals were stained with velvet violet, a true vision in her garden. While the others had given her passing compliments on the flowers, Azriel had seemed stunned the first time he saw them, citing them his favourite of all the plants Elain had grown so far. Something about their shape and contrasting colours, he'd mentioned.
She smiled fondly at the memory, where his eyes sparkled as he reached for one of the soft petals.
Her hand lashed out to grab his wrist. 'Don't touch them; the leaves and stems are highly poisonous.'
His brows rose. 'You wouldn't think that at first sight. But they're beautiful, Elain. Truly magnificent,' he said, his smooth voice so low, a voice that was night given sound. And how befitting, as even those datura flowers seemed enraptured by his presence, one shy petal finally unfurling towards him.
She beamed at him. 'They like you. Flowers like it when you talk to and compliment them - but these ones haven't given me the same reaction as they have to you. I think they really like you, Azriel.'
His answering smile was heartbreakingly tender.
A few more seconds passed before she realised she still held his wrist. She silently let go.
It was a shame she'd have to dig out the datura shrub and move it inside for the winter; it did look magnificent in the moonlight.
The sky shifted past its midnight velvet, and still Elain crouched, admiring the flowers. She shivered in the night's chill. The stars above twinkled and glistened, cold and distant as ever, yet stunning - infinitely more striking than they'd ever been when she was human. A thousand different colours sparkled in that vast expanse, the moon a phosphorescent queen in the centre of her court.
The Night Court truly lived up to its name in the wee hours of the day. Its opulence never failed to mesmerise her; the enhanced Fae eyesight was at least one thing she was grateful for from this body.
Her eyelids became heavy and she yawned. Why was she still out here? It was late into the night; she should be in bed by now. But the night was so beautiful and it was so quiet and she wanted to appreciate it all just once. Just once without the expectations of others, without having to wear that miserable smile all the time.
Of course, it didn't look miserable, which is probably why almost nobody ever bothered to look deeper into Elain. She should be used to it by now, but it still felt - wrong. That most overlooked her so long as she wore a smile. That most didn't think her capable of feeling the utter bitterness and loneliness she had once seen so plain on her sisters' faces.
And in acknowledgement of her sisters' hardships, Elain didn't fault them for not looking, for not seeing her. To see past the thick blanket of darkness in one's own mind was a trial in itself. But it had been years since the war now. And still they didn't notice.
They didn't notice that Elain was being shredded from the inside out.
It was almost laughable. But not funny enough.
No, it was not funny that people still treated Elain like a child, that people wanted to keep Elain in some weird impasse of a stage between child and adult. She'd thought finally carrying out her duty and giving her hand in marriage would show everyone that she was growing up: Elain Archeron, middle born but first married. Of course it was still on her own terms, to a man whom she'd loved. A man who'd seen her through the rubble of her family's lives. But she'd overall hoped doing what was expected of her would be enough.
Clearly not. She didn't even know who she was any more. Did she ever? Everything she'd once yearned for, gone. That fragile human life would soon be just a speck on the horizon of her past.
She sighed. Rebuilding herself was going to take a long time.
But what would she have to do for people to see her, to listen to her? Throw a rage? Fall into a drunken stupor and break a few dozen bottles?
She definitely could, but those were not her. She was Elain Archeron. And so she would wait. Patience wasn't a bad thing at all; she saw it on the shadowsinger's face all the time, that tranquility and calmness she so wished to feel inside.
Azriel. Her heart softened as he entered her mind again, and she dug her fingers into the soil, if only to occupy her fidgety hands. As sure as the chaos of her visions these days, there was a mess of butterflies related to him she wasn't willing to show. Or understand.
Elain and the spymaster? Now that was laughable. Truly laughable. He was wise and patient, while she - well, everyone already thought her a child, and though he listened like no other around her, surely even he couldn't glimpse the adult she so desperately wanted everyone to see.
No, it was foolish to entertain the idea of a relationship with him. No matter how much he saw.
No matter that he was the first to see her since Graysen.
Elain exhaled. She stifled another yawn, smoothing out the soil, then brushed her hands clean. She wrapped the blanket closer around herself and stood. Twinkling stars and velvety darkness and -
There, a knot of shadows materialising at the far edge of the garden, collecting and swirling into a larger mass before Azriel himself stepped out and sagged against a tree. His shadows whirled and obscured him, a dark fire with him burning at the core.
Elain's voice left her throat before she even thought to call him and she ran over to his figure slumped in the dimness.
She couldn't help but say his name again as she neared. 'Azriel!'
Those beautiful hands fiddled with a Siphon, but he looked even worse up close. Fatigue dragged at his body, a second weight to all the muscle and armour he already had to carry. Sweat and dirt clung to him, his hair. At least the shadows were parting, swallowing each other and misting away as they often did around her. Perhaps she should ask someday why they did that. But not today, not when his breathing was so laboured.
She raised a hand - to do what, she had no idea. She couldn't just touch him right now. 'You don't look okay.'
Something else limned his features as he huffed a light laugh and said, 'I'm fine, don't worry.' His voice was raw, so starkly different to its usual icy smoothness. It was common for him to guard his emotions, but in his state, this kind of thinking was just unhealthy. What would it take for him to be honest with her?
'You don't have to pretend with me, Azriel,' she said, lowering her hand. She studied the ground, embarrassed that she'd come up to him. What could she even offer in her pathetic childlike state when he was so clearly affected by his mission right now?
His hand rose. Her heart faltered, she had to do something, and she blurted, 'Can I wash your hair, please?'
His eyes widened, his entire composure crumbling. It wasn't often that the shadowsinger looked startled, but Elain was far too shy to show that she quite liked the effect her question had on him.
'You want to wash my hair?'
His face was so exquisite, it hurt to look at it. His eyes would be even worse; it wouldn't be the first time she was rendered speechless by their kind gaze. A myriad of colours swirled in their glistening depths - gorgeous greens and brilliant browns, all so natural and rich, if only she could look at them long enough to find their matches in the garden around her. Though, his eyes were an entire spectrum of colour in their own right. How would she ever pick out each and every shade?
And if she somehow did have the courage to meet his eyes now, what would she see of herself in their reflection?
A lovesick puppy? A doe-eyed, fearful fawn?
No, she didn't want to know.
So she swallowed and focused on his hair. Perhaps this Fae eyesight was a curse, for even his hair was shockingly fascinating. Only flat black from a distance, the faelights bobbing about the trees highlighted layer upon layer of silky raven locks up close. His hair was so dark it seemed to absorb the surrounding light. Mud stained one side of his head, and it was an effort to keep her hands from brushing it away, so she said, 'I'm positive that's mud and you shouldn't sleep with that in your hair. It'll only take a few minutes.'
He ran a hand through his hair, clumps of dirt falling out.
'You've managed to get some on your face, too.' There were light specks of mud and blood across his face, a more noticeable patch along his cheekbone, thrown into sharper relief by the faelights and his own weariness. Was that a cut beneath the patch? And another on his temple?
She leashed her arms.
What had happened? He wore the signs of a fight, but why would he come here when he knew Elain was the only one home?
His eyes bored into her face, but she refused to meet them. He seemed to lean forward then, stumbling.
Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous that he wouldn't even acknowledge he was in need. Azriel rarely stumbled. Any fatigue Elain had felt just a while ago was now burrowing down a little longer. Her voice was firm when she spoke. 'I'm washing your hair. It'll help relax you into falling asleep.'
His brows rose, but if Elain stood there one more moment she wouldn't have the courage to do anything for him. For herself - she could take care of someone else. She could do for Azriel what she hadn't done for Feyre all those years as a human.
And for Azriel, she could tend to the male who'd provided her with comfort and safety in this world of distress and danger.
So she pulled him along, clenching her jaw and refusing to look back. Her heart hammered in her chest but she continued, hand wrapped round his armoured arm. Her hand slid down to his wrist but just as she was about to replace her grip, he grabbed her other hand and pulled her into him.
The shadows instantly began to ensconce them, dozens of those cool tendrils twining like vines. The estate loomed huge before them, and Elain gripped Azriel's hand tighter. 
'My bathroom,' she said. Beneath the low whisper of those shadows, her blood thrummed, her heart so painfully obvious against her ribs now. It would be a wonder if the spymaster wasn't aware of it. Though she did hear another flutter above, right by her ear. But as expected, the shadows made quick work of their journey and she didn't have the chance to dwell on it further.
Now out of the comfort of Azriel's hold, Elain set down her blanket and made to grab a chair from her bedroom. His dark presence was so overwhelming that she exhaled lightly as she entered the room and took the chair. She dragged it to the sink, avoiding his gaze, and pulled a towel, soap and a large jug from the cupboard by the door.
As she settled the soap and jug on the sink, she dared a glance at him. He was still clad in full armour, those black scales gleaming like obsidian over his skin, his Siphons glistening jewels across his body. 'I think you'll have to collapse your armour for this,' she said.
He inclined his head and tapped a Siphon, those scales lashing back into each other with cruel elegance. They were a mirror of their master: cold, controlled and unyielding, forged from scintillating darkness. He was a night sky riddled with stars; light existed if only one bothered to look for it.
Azriel's great wings righted themselves as he stood straight, now looking smaller in just his black tunic and trousers. Something about him seemed vulnerable without the armour, so Elain breathed, 'It's beautiful, all of it.' The hulking armour, the classic simplicity of the tunic and trousers, and the male who wore them all.
He was just so wonderful, Azriel. An enigma that could see her own. Her heart clenched.
Azriel rustled his wings, colour blossoming on his cheeks.
Elain blinked and pulled the chair out a little. 'Please sit.' As he sunk down, she rested the towel on his shoulders, hovering her fingers above his forehead. Her body tensed and her fingers remained suspended. It was like a spark of tension flickered in the space between their skin, teasing her, tempting her, taunting her.
After all, she'd offered to wash his hair, an act that would certainly require touching. But why was she so hesitant? She'd touched him before - kissed his cheek, even. Although that had been in the heat of adrenaline, a mark of her gratitude where a simple thank you wouldn't suffice, not for risking his own life for hers.
This was - what was this?
She finally lowered her fingers through that tense spark, pushing his head back against the sink. It was exhilarating, this contact, but he lowered his wings, shifting on the seat. Elain moved into the space he gave, turning on the tap as he went still. Just as her body was taut, taut as the skin of a drum.
She checked the water. Warm. It was time to start.
Azriel was looking up at her. Something like yearning swirled in his eyes.
He looked so tired. It made her heart ache.
'You can close your eyes,' Elain whispered. And he did.
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Feedback's welcomed; thanks for reading 😊
If anyone wants to know what the datura flowers look like, CTTO:
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@illyrian-lover-flower @julesherondalex @nooriee @mis-lil-red @verifiefangirl @tswaney17
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imagine-organization-xiii · 6 years ago
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Organization Members as Babies/Toddlers
Suggested by: Anon.  Let me know if any of the links don’t work!!! I didn’t do actual babies because babies don’t really have personalities and they don’t really... do much? So it’s more on the line of toddlers instead of babies.
Thanks to the headcanon queen, @4ddictwithapencil for help with this one!
Let’s just say that most of this is happening at Grandpa Xehanort’s house.
Xemnas
Favorite Toy: a Fluffy Puppy Rocking Chair where he can sit and judge people with his arms crossed and hatred in his eyes.
The grumpiest of babies.  Nothing you do ever makes him happy.  Will glare at you and judge you for everything you do, practically being judgmental at your parenting.  Does not cry or scream, which would be a lot better because it would make him seem like a normal baby, but he does bite often and unashamedly.  Also pulls hair, but not to be spiteful.  He’s just fascinated by hair for some reason.
Sticks to a fairly strict schedule.  Goes to bed at certain times, eats at certain times, naps at a particular time, etc.  If he gets off of his schedule, he goes nuts and gets really upset.  A decently calm baby when he’s on schedule, but when he’s off schedule? He’s a nightmare.
Xigbar
Favorite Toy: Nerf Guns
The naughtiest of tiny babies, absolutely 100% the worst baby ever.  Gets into literally anything and everything because he likes to touch things just for the sake of touching them.  Most likely to stick a fork in an electrical socket.  Also likely to pee on you when you try to change his diaper.
Definitely a kid that will test your limits and really try your patience.  He likes to see how much he can get away with without getting into really big trouble, so if you’ll tell him not to touch something, he’ll immediately touch it when you look away.  Then during a scolding, he’ll pretend like he never did anything. Like this is literally Xigbar.
One positive about Xigbar is that he’s a great sleeper.  Goes to sleep without a fuss and barely ever wakes up in the middle of the night.  Also?? surprisingly cuddly when he’s tired?  He doesn’t like being picked up or coddled too much, but when you see him yawn? He’ll definitely want to be held as he falls asleep.
Xaldin
Favorite Toy: The Jungle Gym Playground Set where he and Lexaeus help to protect baby Zexion
A baby with a surprisingly big appetite.  He’s not picky when it comes to food and will literally try anything you put in front of his face.
Has a fascination with putting his face out of the window on long car rides to feel the breeze.  Also has a tendency to fall asleep in the car when driving around for a while.  For some reason it just makes him sleepy.
Xaldin is pretty content with being by himself.  Likes to sit on the sidelines and watch everyone else play than actually participate.
Vexen
Favorite Toy: Science Experiment Lab
Super curious!!!  Like to pretend to be a scientists and make pretend experiments.  Never misses an episode of Bill Nye the Science Guy.
Never goes outside unless it’s winter and freezing.  LOVES the snow more than anything else in the world.  He’s one of those kiddos that you have to drag Vexen inside the house, even with the bribe of hot chocolate with little mini marshmallows.  He just loves the snow, having snowball fights, and making snowmen!
Lexaeus
Favorite Toy: Tonka Dig n Rig Playset
That kid who likes to dig in the sandbox because he claims he’s going to dig to China.  Just likes being in the dirt for some reason.  He can just lay outside in the grass for hours without moving.
The quietest of all the babies.  Seriously silent because he generally prefers to point at things instead of speaking.  Never cries or talks, either, and his parents were seriously getting worried, so they actually took him to a doctor to see if something was wrong with his hearing or vocal chords, but no.  He’s fine.  When prompted, he was literally able to speak in fully formed sentences and shocked the hell out of everyone in the room.  He just likes to stay silent more than anything else.
Zexion
Favorite Toy: Create Your Own Books Activity
Another baby who is seriously curious about the world.  Likes to get into literally everything if only because he wants to know what it is, what it does, and how he can use it or play with it.
SO CUTE AS A BABY.  Has chubby cheeks that you just want to pinch.  A seriously lovable baby who’s wonderful and amazing.
He’s that baby that always accidentally gets into trouble, and Lexaeus and Xaldin know it.  They’ve formed a pact between the two of them to follow Zexion around and keep him safe from other babies/bullies (aka Xigbar.)
Can’t go to sleep unless someone reads him a story.
Saix
Favorite Toy: Fisher Price Desk and Lamp to store his crayons and important documents
Pretty similar to Xemnas, Saix has a god damn schedule and you need to stick to it or he will go absolutely insane.  You’ll be left with a very unhappy baby and he’ll make sure you know how unhappy he is, loudly and often.  He needs order to function, more so than most babies.
Bossy as shit and a little know it all.  He will definitely correct adults when they’re wrong about something and has absolutely judged his parents on their parenting skills and tried to tell them what to do.
Axel
Favorite Toy: Sit and Spin - definitely makes himself dizzy as hell on purpose.
You can’t have candles in the house with this sweet baby.  He’s absolutely fascinated with fire and will very much stick his hands on or near the fire on the stove if given the opportunity.
He’s also very loud! Not in like the uncontrollable screaming way, but he just babbles a lot.  He’ll definitely be trying to have a conversation with you like, “Bla bla baa bebebe sha ba daaaaaa da ba.” And you just have to nod and agree with whatever he says.
Like Xigbar, he’s great sleeper because he has so much energy during the day that he’s practically exhausted by nighttime.
Axel sometimes throws tantrums, but it’s usually only when he doesn’t get what he wants.  You won’t let him have a snack or a piece of candy from the store and he’ll get pretty upset with you, but he’ll get over it fairly quickly.
Demyx
Favorite Toy: Sing-Along MP3 Player
Singing gibberish since literally the day he was born.  Demyx has one of those little machines that has a speaker and microphone, and he drags the thing around ALL DAY, practically screaming into it because he thinks it’s singing and practically drives everyone nuts.
Loves to go in the pool! Demyx is a natural swimmer that doesn’t need floaties and isn’t afraid of water or getting water splashed in his face.  Laughs hysterically every time you let him play with the hose pipe.
Luxord
Favorite Toy: Kid’s Playing Cards
Luxord likes all sorts of card games, like Old Maid, Go Fish, etc. He’s also a really great master at Peekaboo.  Even though he’s a kid, 100% definitely has the skill to take all of your money in poker. Also likes matching games where you can find the matching pictures, Solitaire, and board games like Mouse Trap and Guess Who!  Not Monopoly, though.  He hates Monopoly.
Attracted to shiny silver and gold things, especially coins.
Likes to have someone sing him a lullaby before sleep and, unlike most kids, he really likes to have a bath.  Can’t sleep unless he’s clean and in new jammies!
Marluxia
Favorite Toy: Kid’s Gardening Set
Marluxia loves playing outside! Spends more time playing in the yard than inside, so he gets tons of fresh air.  Likes to play in the garden, pull weeds, and plant pretty flowers.  Would try to plant acorns and other seeds because he wants to see them grow into something big.
Also gets dirty A LOT.  He’s that crazy kid that makes mud pies whenever he possibly can and gets the mud everywhere. Over his clothes, tracked through the house, all across the driveway, on his skin, etc.
Larxene
Favorite Toy: An Old Barbie Doll, but it’s beaten up, hair torn out, and damaged
Larxene is a drama queen baby.  Practically acts like she’s a teenager even though she’s only three years old.  Definitely bosses the other babies around, like Angelica from the Rugrats.  An unbelievable amount of sass within a tiny body.
Terrible.  Tantrums.  All the time.  Every day.  Everywhere. Larxene is the master of the temper tantrum because she knows it’s one of the best ways to get what she wants. Doesn’t care who she bothers with her screaming as long as she gets whatever it is that she wants.
Roxas
Favorite Toy: A stick that he pretends is a sword.
A happy, cheerful baby who laughs at everyone and everything, but he is very clingy. You can’t set him down or he’ll get really upset and worried that you’ll suddenly disappear.
He’s a happy baby, like I said, but he also has a short temper.  If everything is the way he wants to be, he is the cutest most lovable baby in the world.  If anything is annoying him, he’ll throw an absolute fit.
Also likes to play with styrofoam swords all the time.  And for some reason, he has a habit of stealing your car keys (though you aren’t sure if it’s because he likes the shiny stuff or the jingling noise.).
Xion
Favorite Toy: A GIANT teddy bear that she can cuddle and sleep on.
A content, curious baby who doesn’t do much and is just happy to look around and see new things.  She’s absolutely precious!  Such a cuddle bug that loves hugs and skin contact just because she likes the warmth.
She’s cries sometimes, but not because she’s being a brat or throwing a tantrum.  Poor thing just has a lot of emotions and the only way she can get them out is to cry.  A quiet cryer, though.  She doesn’t have loud, screaming cries.
Gets distracted really easily.  She likes shiny things and noisy things and toys that squeak and rattle.  She loves toys of any kind and is always happy to get new stuff.
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tsghuntsvillealabama · 5 years ago
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#STAYCONNECTED HUNTSVILLE || Corners of My Home
With the days of social distancing, self quarantining and stay at home orders seemingly stretching out into a blur, it honestly feels good to pour some of that attention and energy into where we hang our hats, and where our hearts are. Home cannot be merely defined as the four walls you are sitting within right now. It is that almost tangible warm feeling when you plop into your favorite chair, the smell of fresh baked cookies wafting from your kitchen, your dog or cat coming into check on you at your home office, reading a book with glass of wine in a bubblebath, or even the smile that spreads across your face when you see that framed picture of family from years ago hanging next to that artwork you bought on your last vacation. Home is filled with laughter, favorite colors, reminders, collections, light and the little nooks we love. It is in those beautiful corners that we are most at home. 
We asked some members to share with us their favorite corners of their homes in hopes they would inspire you in your own home. Here they are in their own words! 
Beverly Farrington || Accents of the South
A master bedroom usually sits by itself away from all the hustle and bustle from the rest of the house. For me, it is a space that’s quiet, thoughtful, introspective and intimate. My bedroom is a place I can retreat to, it is my own personal and quite space where I can gather my thoughts , take a warm relaxing bath in, pamper myself in by reading a good book or just a place where I am all alone to paint my toe nails.
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This space allows me to prepare myself for the day and to rest at night.  For me the soft taupe and blush colors are relaxing and tranquil. Everyone needs this kind of space in their home and one of the most rewarding parts of my job is being able to create  this feeling of rejuvenation and well being for my clients as well. 
Though this part of the house is quiet, it is also very warm and inviting. It is the soft taupe walls, Gossamer Veil by Sherwin Williams that help to give it that feel. I love pink, so I worked in a pale shrimp to accent the room. It is found in the chairs and art. I anchored the room with light taupe, grey and off white which can all be found in the Oushak rug. The lamps are the whimsical pop in the room with the polished brass daisies that rise gracefully from their marble bases.
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So many of you have asked to see the before and after of my kitchen, well here it is, the master bath. The original kitchen was too small for today’s kitchen, it wasn’t in a bad spot in the house but I needed this space to complete the master suite. It all worked out well. It had large windows across the back, that we replaced to be even larger ones. They give great light to the space with their Southeastern view. Facing a private courtyard they can be open most the time. The marble floating tub is the focal point in the space with these beautiful windows as it’s back drop.
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A large walk-in shower was created by using part of an old corridor and the toilet fits neatly into a space that was used as the previous pantry. We also were able to keep an existing exterior door that now flows seamlessly to a new terrace and courtyard. We finished out the space with white Italian Statuary marble and of course I added a touch of pink in the long flowing draperies.
Read more about Beverly on our blog and see more fantastic photos of Beverly’s Master bedroom suite on her Accents of the South Journal. And more from her Home Bound Series: Foyer Home Tour and Kitchen Home Tour.
Louisa DiLeone || Bloom Counseling
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This corner of my home feels like spring. I filled it with all the things I love - lilacs from my garden, pieces from my favorite artist, bird decor, and the color purple! I’m so inspired by nature and find that bringing the look indoors creates a fresh and joyful feel.
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Ashley and Andy Vaughn || White Rabbit Studios & Vertical House Records
Listen to Ashley and Andy’s latest Scouted playlist, while you tour their home...
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Kitchen window: the naked lady vase came from our first home - we found it in the back of a cabinet and I think the previous homeowner made it! The gargoyle and cute house are made by a NOLA artist (Tamar Taylor) that we got from one of our favorite restaurants, Surrey's. The sun underneath the house was from a market in Italy. Inside the naked lady vase are garlic chive flowers from our garden (yum!) The little baby came out of a king cake, and the other trinkets were found at estate sales. I think we purchased the hanging pot form an artist at the Monte Sano art show!
Kitchen: a vintage stove was at the house when we started restoring the property, so we let that define the space and style of the room!
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Garden herb spiral: our garden gives us so much! We spend a lot of time in the yard and allow for our kitties to join us supervised. They have their own favorite spots too! In the herb spiral you can see the hint of lavender at the top which is great for headaches, anxiety, and is an antimicrobial! Growing next to it with it's vibrant shade of green is lemon balm, which is fabulous for it's properties to help calm the nervous system and acts as an antiviral - great for a racing heart and to help reduce nervous feelings...also tastes YUMMY!  One of our kitties, Maple, is resting next to bee balm (before its showy flowers have bloomed) which has antimicrobial, antispasmodic, and anti-inflammatory properties. You can also see a peek of sage behind Maple. Sage's key actions are wonderful: antiseptic, astringent, clears mucus, nerve tonic, and estrogenic. Such a great versatile herb to have! Our garden grows over 30 beneficial, organic herbs that I use to make tea blends, tinctures, and vinegars. Studying herbalism has given me so much more respect for plants - in fact, we let a lot of the wild plants grow in the yard that most people consider weeds! Purple dead nettle, henbit, chickweed, cleavers, violets, shepard's purse - all of those have wonderful properties!
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Dining room Apothecary: I’m studying herbalism and as soon as a started the venture, I knew I had to have an apothecary! This shot was in the beginning, and now it’s packed with teas, tinctures, and dried herbs from the garden!
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Kelly Butler || K Butler Interiors 
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I love this simple spot in our home because of the colorful art and personality each piece represents - A few happy landscapes, paintings of our previous homes, even an abstract piece by one of our children. Gallery walls are a fun way to let your home tell a story!
Suzanne Carlisle || Golden Griffin
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I love the dimension in this starburst mirror paired with a more clean-lined lamp and Italian style chest. On top of the chest is a particularly cherished piece—a hand painted box of a landscape with a gorgeous gold-leaf edge and bottom by artist Julie Robinson. I also collect abstract nude art. This framed piece one of many around my house.
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If I collect anything it’s antique religious items! This bookcase in my master bedroom holds some of my favorite things: A collection of metal religious figures, handmade jeweled crosses and crowns atop antique bottles, and a stack of vintage Italian Florentine boxes (also a weakness of mine)! 
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I think this foyer nook gives more great insight into my style. Some of my favorite art by Julie Robinson, a local Huntsville artist, hangs on the original 1907 plaster staircase wall. And then there are the pretty pieces on the table—an antique carved religious figure in one of my favorite colors, pink!—An antique Italian lamp with new gold leaf shade (I’m a lover of all things gold!)—and then bejeweled tiara atop candlestick. I love layering with little unexpected add ons! 
Brandeis Short || Pillar & Peacock
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Master Bath Tub:  I have really enjoyed my tub during this stay at home time. I have been “treating” myself with a bath, a good book and a glass of wine! I can have some quiet time to myself! Paper is by Galbraith & Paul, light fixtures by Visual Comfort.
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Nook in the Living Room:  this chair makes me super happy and really defines my love for color and pattern. A retro caned wingback found in my mother in law’s garage was brought back to life with Schumacher’s Chang Mai Dragon. Some of my favorite design books propped onto a very multipurpose indoor/outdoor martini stool from West Elm. 
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Side Front Porch:  I can’t say enough about this this space. Thank GOD our porches were finished prior to this pandemic. We had them re-built and I was dying without them. They are a true extension of our home and possibly my favorite space in our whole house. I LOVE puzzles and have become a little spoiled and now only like doing Liberty Puzzles (wood) now! I have had one going on my game table inside and one on this outdoor porch. 
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Front Porch (off of Living Room):  This is my reading porch. I love to sit out here and either listen to music or read. I am reading Harry Potter to my youngest right now! 
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Game Table in Living Room:  I sit here often with a glass of wine. Just starting this puzzle that my husband gave last year for my birthday. It's a custom one of the girls in front of our Paris Air BnB's Apartment Doors. Dreaming of traveling! Behind is an antique armoire, a painting by a local Florence artist and some art books. 
Marianne Cook Windham || Windham Travel and Leisure
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This is our office. Our home office was added specifically for our businesses back in 2007. We started Windham Entertainment the summer of 2004; and I started Windham Travel & Leisure the fall of 2005. Since we first added the office, we had done very little as far as updating. This January, I was already looking at paint colors, etc., and we were going to "get around" to doing a "refresh and revive". As it turned out, with the shelter at home order, I pushed myself to make quick and simple changes in order to create a more inspiring and happy work space. (Notice the gigantic bean bag-we cannot forget about the comfort of our fur babies.) Since the first week in March, my travel agency has been operating mostly in response to and at the mercy of the continually changing chaos and unknowns with Covid-19 in the current world situation. So making positive improvements and being 100% in control of my immediate surroundings has been immensely uplifting and gratifying for me.
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Our bedroom has evolved into a space that we really enjoy. We love the warm walls and curtains and shears covering our double sliding glass doors out to a private courtyard. We created a built-in look from two chest of drawers, shelving, boards and molding, staining them all the same color as the chest of drawers. We attached lighting underneath and have rope lighting across the top of the molding. The purple valance was given to me as an extra from an antique store In Fayetteville Tennessee that we purchased several pieces of furniture from. I have always been fond of peacocks and their beautiful colors. 
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My husband Darin is over 6’4”, and all of his life he’s been given different giraffe pieces. We even have a champagne colored pencil tree that is completely themed out with giraffe ornaments that we leave up all year. Love the ambience it adds to the mood year round. And we dream of going on an African safari in the next couple of years. It is a bucket list dream of ours! At some point we just decided we need to put all these things in one room and so here we are—giraffe art pieces and figures, peacocks, an elaborate purple valance and some added teal sequined shears for extra sparkle. Kind of a “boudoir safari” style. What would you call that? Boudoiari? Ha! May not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it’s unique to us; and we love it...and so do our doggies (leopard dog beds not pictured). Sweet dreams!
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dfroza · 5 years ago
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A genuine seed of Light is the True nature of words inspired by the Spirit
A point seen in Today’s reading of the book of Mark from chapter 4:
Jesus went out again to teach by the Sea of Galilee. When the crowd became unmanageable, He climbed aboard a boat and sat down to teach the people listening on the shore by telling them parables. One of His teachings went like this:
Jesus: Listen! A farmer went out and sowed his seed. As he scattered it, one seed fell along the hardened path, and a bird flapped down and snapped it up. One seed fell onto rocky places where the soil was thin, so it sprang up quickly. But when the hot sun scorched the fragile stems and leaves, the seedling withered because its roots didn’t go deep in the soil. One of the seeds fell among the weeds and thorns, which crowded the seedling out of producing a crop. And the rest of the seeds fell in good, rich soil. When they sprouted, the plants grew and produced a crop 30, 60, even 100 times larger than expected for every seed that the farmer had sown.
All who have ears to hear, let them listen.
When they were alone, the twelve and others close to Him asked why He always taught in parables instead of explaining His teachings clearly.
Jesus: God has let you in on the inside story regarding the workings of the Kingdom—the hidden meanings. But the crowds—I teach them in parables as the prophet Isaiah predicted,
So that when they look, they see and yet do not understand.
When they hear, they listen and yet do not comprehend.
Otherwise, they might really turn and be forgiven.
Do you mean to say that you didn’t understand My parable of the sower? That was the key parable. If you don’t see what I was trying to teach there, how will you be able to understand any of the others?
The seed the farmer is sowing is the good news, God’s word. Some people are the seed thrown onto the path, and the tempter snaps up the word before it can even take root. Others are the seed thrown among the rocks. Those people hear the word and receive it immediately with joy and enthusiasm; but without deep roots, doubt, trouble, or persecution instantly withers their faith. Still others are the seed tossed among weeds and brambles. The word has reached them, but the things of this life—the worries, the drive for more and more, the desire for other things—those things cluster around close and choke the life of God out of them until they cannot produce. But those last seeds—those sown into good soil? Those people hear the word, accept it, meditate on it, act on it, and bear fruit—a crop 30, 60, or 100 times larger than the farmer dropped to earth.
Jesus: When you bring a lamp into the house, do you put it under a box or stuff it under your bed? Or do you set it on top of a table or chest? Those things that are hidden are meant to be revealed, and what is concealed is meant to be brought out where its light can shine.
All who have ears to hear, let them listen.
So consider carefully the things you’re hearing. If you put it to use, you’ll be given more to wrestle with—much more. Those who have listened will receive more, but those who don’t hear will forget even the little they’ve failed to understand.
Here is what the kingdom of God is like: a man who throws seeds onto the earth. Day and night, as he works and as he sleeps, the seeds sprout and climb out into the light, even though he doesn’t understand how it works. It’s as though the soil itself produced the grain somehow—from a sprouted stalk to ripened fruit. But however it happens, when he sees that the grain has grown and ripened, he gets his sickle and begins to cut it because the harvest has come.
What else is the kingdom of God like? What earthly thing can we compare it to? The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, the tiniest seed you can sow. But after that seed is planted, it grows into the largest plant in the garden, a plant so big that birds can build their nests in the shade of its branches.
Jesus spoke many parables like these to the people who followed Him. This was the only way He taught them, although when He was alone with His chosen few, He interpreted all the stories so the disciples truly understood.
The same evening, Jesus suggested they cross over to the other side of the lake. With Jesus already in the boat, they left the crowd behind and set sail along with a few other boats that followed. As they sailed, a storm formed. The winds whipped up huge waves that broke over the bow, filling the boat with so much water that even the experienced sailors among them were sure they were going to sink.
Jesus was back in the stern of the boat, sound asleep on a cushion, when the disciples shook Him awake.
Disciples (shouting over the storm): Jesus, Master, don’t You care that we’re going to die?
He got up, shouted words into the wind, and commanded the waves.
Jesus: That’s enough! Be still!
And immediately the wind died down to nothing, the waves stopped.
Jesus: How can you be so afraid? After all you’ve seen, where is your faith?
The disciples were still afraid, slowly coming to grips with what they had seen.
Disciples (to one another): Who is this Jesus? How can it be that He has power over even the wind and the waves?
The Book of Mark, Chapter 4 (The Voice)
A chapter 4 that is accompanied Today by the reading of Psalm 4 for day 304 of the year:
[Psalm 4]
For the worship leader. A song of David accompanied by strings.
Answer my prayers, O True God, the righteous, who makes me right.
I was hopelessly surrounded, and You rescued me.
Once again hear me; hide me in Your favor;
bring victory in defeat and hope in hopelessness.
How long will you sons of Adam steal my dignity, reduce my glory to shame?
Why pine for the fruitless and dream a delusion?
[pause]
Understand this: The Eternal One treats as special those like Him.
The Eternal will answer my prayers and save me.
Think long; think hard. When you are angry, don’t let it carry you into sin.
When night comes, in calm be silent.
[pause]
From this day forward, offer to God the right sacrifice from a heart made right by God.
Entrust yourself to the Eternal.
Crowds of disheartened people ask, “Who can show us what is good?”
Let Your brilliant face shine upon us, O Eternal One, that we may know the undeniable answer.
You have filled me with joy, and happiness has risen in my heart, great delight and unrivaled joy,
even more than when bread abounds and wine flows freely.
Tonight I will sleep securely on a bed of peace
because I trust You, You alone, O Eternal One, will keep me safe.
The Book of Psalms, Poem 4 (The Voice)
to be concluded by lines from Psalm 31 about trusting in Love (in God):
Into your hands I now entrust my spirit.
O Lord, the God of faithfulness,
you have rescued and redeemed me.
I despise these deceptive illusions,
all this pretense and nonsense,
for I worship only you.
In mercy you have seen my troubles and you have cared for me;
even during this crisis in my soul I will be radiant with joy,
filled with praise for your love and mercy.
You have kept me from being conquered by my enemy;
you broke open the way to bring me to freedom,
into a beautiful, broad place.
The Book of Psalms, Poem 31:5-8 (The Passion Translation)
my personal reading in the Scriptures for October 31, the 39th day of Autumn and day 304 of the year:
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fictivegarden · 7 years ago
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hello, this is callon. it’s been quite some time since our last tour, and a lot has happened in headspace. some minor shifts have happened in the spaces we’ve already spoken about, but i don’t think they’re significant enough to merit re-exploring those spaces at the moment, so please feel free to check the maps if you’d like to know.
in the main house, vex’s room has expanded into a suite. what used to be eir closet is now a small living room, which is considered venic’s domain. it has two couches, facing each other over a low glass coffee table. a standing light is against the wall farthest from the door. all of the furniture looks very much like the sleek series from ancl, except the lamp, which is the kind that branches off into five lamps with open oval-shaped covers. the branches can be repositioned at will.
venic says that the coffee table can be turned into an operating table when kye needs it, but i don’t really see how that could be the case. there’s a shiny stone chess board on the far side of the coffee table, and a few glass coasters. the chess board seems to be the kind that you can store pieces inside it. venic smugly implies that that’s not all kye hides in there, but to be entirely honest, i have no idea what else kye might want to keep hidden. it’s not like any of us smoke weed.
heading back into vex’s study. the L-shaped desk against the back and left walls still looks a lot like canon. but in the front right corner, jace has set up a nest consisting of a beanbag chair and a couple cushions, as well as an expensive-looking laptop and some assorted sound equipment, though not a full dj set. there is also scrapbooking paraphernalia, both in jace’s workspace and vex’s.
slightly father back on the right wall than jace’s space is a door leading outside.
upstairs, riley’s room has also been expanded. si’s sleeping right now, so it’s quite dark and i’m not able to snoop that much, but the bed is outright huge, and has an inordinate amount of pillows, even considering that the room now houses 2-3 people regularly. there’s a vanity covered in makeup against the back wall, to the right of the bed. and against the front wall are a few chairs, the kind that are a simple metal frame with canvas fabric hammocked on it. to the left of them, against the wall, is a minimalist white dresser, with an arrangement of succulents growing in pots and terrariums on top. the majority of everything is light pink and mint, but there are some powder blue and white features as well.
there’s a ladder against the wall behind the bed, white metal, which leads up to a hatch in the ceiling. nessie seems upset that i’ve noticed it, but not to the point of preventing me from climbing upstairs.
the attic used to be ailecent’s room, but now it’s been converted into a very cute study. the slanted walls are white washed, and fairy lights are draped from the ceiling. against one of the not-slanted walls is a desk, on top of which seems to be a sleek new macbook and several planners, as well as a cup of cute pens and highlighters, and a small case of simple pastel washi tape. a small whiteboard calendar and a couple simple prints are tacked to the wall.
against the opposite wall is a pile of beanbag chairs. a couple books and magazines, as well as smaller zines, lie scattered nearby.
when i climb back down the ladder, i learn that riley had only been feigning sleep for at least my most recent visit. si sheepishly apologizes for converting ailecent’s old room. i tell sil that it’s fine, ae hadn’t been using it since kestrel showed up anyway. nessie says she told sil so. i tell them that they should still apologize to ailecent rather than me if ae comes back around.
the last change in the main house, a subtle one, is that the tv stand in the main room has been replaced by a desk for ethan. aside from the colour scheme and the lack of a computer, it’s quite similar to riley’s. their study equipment is all blue and brown and white and black.
leaving the main house, there have also been significant changes to azdien’s mansion. the main floor is by-and-large the same, with an exception i’ll get to in a minute. i don’t recall if the staircase to the left of the front doors was present during our first tour, but now it not only exists but leads both to a second floor and a basement.
when you go upstairs, there’s a hallway lined with bedrooms. many of them are empty. the front-left room has been converted into trysten’s bedroom, as i guess the main floor rooms are too small in sier opinion? the array of furniture is nothing you wouldn’t expect from a bedroom. all the fabrics are maroon jacquard. what metal accents there are alternate between dull silver and light gold. the wooden pieces are dark almost to the point of being black, but slightly on the warm side. there’s a canopy over the bed. a central table features a bouquet of roses in a vase, some of them just dark red, some of them the kind that are red on the inside and white on the outside. many of the accents are rose-shaped as well, such as the knobs on sier dresser. sie has at least two or three bottles of perfume. the walls are dark, but not excessively so. i can’t quite distinguish the exact colour. the ceiling is a warm off-white grey.
out of trysten’s room, the back-left room of the second floor seems to be converting into a room for aren, but hasn’t quite gotten anywhere yet.
downstairs, into the basement. the staircase itself is wrought-iron, quite fancy, spiraling. it’s coated with copper.
the basement is made of rough dark grey stone. the walls seem like they would be easy to climb if they were not slightly damp. it reads very much like a dungeon, but no one is kept prisoner here.
through the first door on the left is vaccine’s study. a sturdy desk sits centered towards the back wall. it has some trays for paperwork and a cup of pens, most of which are the thick expensive kind. they also have a stamp and stamp-pad. i have no idea what kind of official business they expect to be conducting, but they are certainly prepared for it. against the back wall is a flag with the logo of the eightfold cleansers on it. against the front wall are four chairs, two on each side of the door. although there’s room for more furniture in the room, there isn’t any. the floor is smooth cement, and the walls are simply whitewashed. it looks nothing like the hallway of the basement, but the air still feels slightly damp and stale. everything is black and silver minimalist. it’s an intimidating room, overall.
the next door leads into vyrn’s chamber. i don’t know why, but xe doesn’t like it much, and only goes there to brood. it’s made of the same rough stone as the rest of the basement, and just as poorly lit. i don’t know how i can see anything, but i can. against the back wall, taking up a good third of the room, is don thousand’s throne. or rather, a replica of it, with none of the ill intent or the powers.
there are several other rooms in the basement, but they’re presently unoccupied.
beneath the basement, separated from azdien’s mansion by nearly a story of dirt and rock, is a room the size of a master bedroom, with no actual entrance. you can enter by phasing through the floor or by asking drohen to create a portal, but in my opinion, neither option is particularly appealing.
this is kisoquine’s room. all the walls and contents of the room are brightly coloured, mainly yellow orange and pink, but not exclusively. there are balls like one would see in a ball pit against all the walls, but for some reason, they don’t roll into the middle of the room. there are also two or three yoga-balls in the room. and a gumball machine, the kind with a small-scale rube goldberg machine inside.
kisoquine, apparently showing off, tosses one of the ballpit balls in the air, and then pops it like a balloon. a liquid, hot pink and glittery but blood-scented, erupts from it, but vanishes into the air before hitting the floor. some of it splashes onto kisoquine’s face. vyrn, sitting nearby on a yoga ball (floating), claps xyr feet and laughs.
i’m honestly pretty unsettled. drohen creates an escape portal for me, and i gratefully use it.
i exit into the library. this is the last area of change i wanted to show you. walking past the shelves of books set in the middle of the room, all of them tall and filled with leather-bound gold-trimmed books, there’s a huge bay window, the glass reaching to the floor instead of having a couch set into the wall. in the hollow created is a small circular table and two chairs, in white-washed wrought iron. a small bouquet of lilacs in a simple glass vase sits at the middle of the table. the windows are framed by light jade drapes, pulled back to let in the sunlight. on either side of the bay window is a hanging potted plant, leaves spilling over the edge and hanging down a couple feet, but not reaching the floor. the window itself is not stained glass, but is patterned around the edges with frosting. the entire nook gives off a very serene feel. elster is often found here.
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girlwsoftsound · 8 years ago
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Uni || George Daniel Oneshot
Word Count: 2,573 Warnings: Slight smut. Just a lil. Summary: George invites you, a friend from Uni over to his flat. Discussions and other activities ensue. Author’s Note: BEHOLD the George Uni Fic! The longest prompt I’ve ever gotten has finally been tackled, and I think it turned out WONDERFULLY! Big thanks to the anon who sent it, it was a blast to write. Be sure to throw in a like or comment if you liked it, too! I love seeing feedback from you all. Please feel free to read my other work here! Enjoy!  
George always enjoys bringing people to his flat.
He doesn’t know if it’s the feeling of being a host, or the fun he has with company that spurs him to constantly do it, but he does it, and does it as often as he can. This time, the lucky person invited over is you. You and George have known each other ever since the beginning of Uni. He sat next to you in one of your intro courses on the first day, and ever since he dropped his pencil and you kindly helped him get it, you hit it off. It was a crush that he hadn’t expected to happen, but he fell into it happily, and you did as well. You have been there every step of the way since, supporting his journey with his friends in making and growing their band, and celebrating when they got signed. Getting invited over to his place is more of a thank you for that, though you hardly care the reasoning. You just care that finally it’s going to be just the two of you, together, without distraction.
George invites you into his flat after the second knock, his bright face sending happiness and warmth through you. He brings you in, taking your jacket and hanging it up on a hook in front, and asks you if you need a drink or are hungry. You find yourself unable to speak however, as your eyes are too busy scanning the flat around you. It’s decorated rather eclectically, with more books and instruments than you have ever imagined. There is a nice array of couches to the side, and you can see back towards where his kitchen lays. It’s so quaint and so George. He smiles as he takes to your side.
“It’s not much, but it’s home,” he says softly. You turn to him and match his smile.
“It’s awesome,” you reply.
“Want to see the rest of it?”
Nodding, George takes your hand and brings you upstairs. There, you pass by a room with George’s drum kit and an assortment of papers scattered on the floor, a bathroom, and then finally enter into his bedroom. His bedroom, though smaller than the living room, looks even more eclectic and decorated. There are more records on the wall than you thought a person could own. More books scatter shelves, along with posters that decorate his wall like artwork, bold and proud. In the corner next to his bed, a cherry red record player lays ready to be played. On the opposite side of the bed, a matching red lamp sits on a nightstand. Beside it, you spy a pack of cigarettes on top of his phone. He jumps onto the bed, looking up at you.
“So, what do you think?”
Placing your hand along some of his records, you huff. “I didn't expect you to be interested in anything other than rap and house music.”
George smiles. “Yeah, well...I enjoy those, but they don’t tug at my heartstrings like the classics. I mean, have you heard some of the songs people used to put out when rock n’ roll was just starting out in the seventies? I’d be mental not to fall in love with it.”
Nodding, you pull out a record by Bruce Springsteen - the one featuring Born In The USA - and hand it over to the brown-haired boy you suddenly felt was much cooler than he has let on. “Play some of it for me, then.”
You might as well have opened up floodgates. George leaps up from his bed and runs to take the record for you so it can find its home on the record player as if his life depends on it. He puts it on, the music filling the room up with Bruce’s voice, and then looks back to you. You nod appreciatively at the sound and move to join him on the bed. After sitting there for a few minutes, softly bobbing your heads to the beat in sync, George leans over and grabs for something under his bed. You watch and see him pull out a box. It quickly occurs to you that this box is not just any box - it holds all of George’s weed and supplies to roll spliffs. He looks to you, gesturing the box your way.
“Want one?”
Chewing at your lip, you nod, sending the boy to work. He takes care to produce two, perfectly rolled spliffs. One gets handed to you, while the other rests happily between his fingers. He rejoins you on the bed and lets out a big puff of smoke from his in your direction. You giggle at it and wave it away from your face to the sound of his laughter. As you go to take a puff on yours, George gets up and heads to the door.
“One moment,” he tells you, assuring you with his eyes he’s serious, “I’ve got something I think you’ll like.” He slips past his door, and you can hear his footsteps gallop down the stairs to his kitchen over the sound of the saxophone blaring from the record player. A minute or two passes, and then you hear George bound back up. In his hands are two yellow drinks. He hands one to you, pausing to sip from his before rejoining beside you.
“It’s lemonade Fanta and vodka,” he tells you, winking your way. “It’s got quite a kick to it, but it’s delicious. Go on, try it!”
Setting down your spliff momentarily, you go to sip at the drink curiously. True to his word, it is just as delicious as George made it sound. You sip a bit more and then smile up at him.
“Thank you.”
He smiles at you and waves you off. “It’s no problem.”
It really isn’t. George would do anything for you, will do anything for you, like talk endlessly about Mortal Kombat, your favorite bands, and his tattoos with you until you finish your drink and the record player runs out of Springsteen to play. He could sit for hours like that, because even without the alcohol and the spliffs, he feels like you are worth it. He still feels that way as you get up to stare at his polaroids, if not more. Seeing how focused you are on them, and how much you adore the funnier pictures of them, makes his crush on you become more prominent, more imminent. He feels himself move forward and catch your attention, and when you turn around, you see his eyes beckoning you over. A hand reaches out to take yours, making your breath catch in your mouth.
“C’mere.”
As soon as your eyes say yes, he’s pulling you forward, bringing you to join him on the bed, but this time not next to him at his side. This time, he’s bringing you up top of him, his arms propping you up to straddle his hips and his smile glistening up at you. As soon as he has you where he wants you, he brings you down to kiss him, tenderly so at first, growing more impassioned and needy as the feeling becomes more natural. You both never thought your crush would get you this far, even if alcohol was involved. To have it happening, to feel the kisses become real - it’s better than winning the lottery. It’s mind-blowing incredible.
It soon becomes not enough, though. You were no dumby to the fact that George had quite the boner going on, and he was not exactly hiding the fact. He wants more. He needs more. Rolling on top of you, he grinds against you a bit and moans at the friction. It makes you gasp and smile wickedly at him. He shakes his head as if to throw the feelings he is feeling away and gazes into your eyes.
“Can...can I get rid of these?” George asks, tugging gently at your shorts and caressing your thigh right below their hem. The feeling electrifies you. You nod. Within moments, he is tugging them down, replacing the lost warmth of them by rubbing up and down your leg softly. It’s enough to send a chill through you, and you can barely take the way it feels so good against you. A mere hand, undoing you. George stops his hand at your underwear and looks to you once again, gazing deeply and asking permission. This time, your approval needs no questioning. A simple nod urges him on, and before you can register it, long fingers are pulling them down to and past your ankles. George takes one look at you after tossing them away before making an almost inhuman noise, somewhere between a chuckle and a groan, and letting out a soft ‘nice’ into the air. It makes you blush, but you love it nonetheless.
Your giggle at his sudden arousal is stripped away with a moan as, without warning, George brings his mouth to your core, sucking and working his tongue around you without any buildup. It’s not like you have not had oral before, but for whatever reason, George’s work seems new and makes it feel like a new experience. He gets you worked up in no time, relishing the small mewls leaving your lips, intertwining fingers with yours while his other hand aids his work by going inside you and starting a pace matched by his tongue - it drives you insane. Your moans are unable to be stifled, urging George on with increased volume as he seemingly puts his all into making you scream. It’s not long before he’s practically begging you to cum. The pleasure builds up like a fire inside you, sneaking up before growing at an inescapable rate. You pant out George’s name, and he increases speed against you, and suddenly you snap. You let out a prolonged moan, and your thighs shake at the mere force of your orgasm. George stays against you until he knows it’s too much, and the look on his face when he pulls away makes you nearly cum twice. He looks proud.
You think that, given George’s arousal and how mind-blowing your little oral experiment was, he would have followed up the session with a begging for his own. However, he does the exact opposite and brings you into his arms, gentle and loving, allowing you to settle and really enjoy the feeling of your post-orgasm haze. He lays down on his back, after pausing to discard most of his clothing save for his Calvin Klein underwear, and drapes your legs across his, bringing only a sheet up to cover you both so that you are not cold but he is not too hot. Taking out the box again, he lights one more spliff, this for you to share. He hands it to you for a puff, and then holds it for the rest of the time-being. He sighs against it.
“You know {Y/N},” he says, gazing over at you, “I’ve always wanted to let you know this, but I’ve been a chicken. A right chicken, no more, no less. I think...I think you’re proper cool and fit. Truly. And before you go trying to deny that, you really are, and I’m not the only one who thinks it. The boys all do,” he mentions, referring to his band whom you have come to know and love like brothers. “We were talking and well...we want you to come out with us to our first ever world tour.”
Your eyes widen, watching the smoke rise from his spliff in awe. “World tour? You guys got a world tour?!”
Smiling, George leans in and kisses you. “Yup. We heard about it last night. I’ve been saving telling you for a good moment. Figured post-oral cuddling might be just that.”
You shove at his arm and then go in for another kiss. “You’re ridiculous. But George, as much as I’d love to, I have Uni.”
“Oh I know,” he explains, his hand playing with your hair, “we all do. We know you can’t make it to every single gig, but we want you to at least come to the beginning of it. We’ve got five shows nearby to kick it off. We’ll give you front row and backstage passes, the whole treat. You’ll be one of us, a rockstar!”
“More like groupie,” you tease with a wink. George rolls his eyes and goes in for another kiss.
“Seriously though,” he continues, “you have believed in our music when others haven’t, you’re a beautiful girl who views things the same way I do, and well...I wants you there. I’m not tied to anyone, anyway. Not anymore. Maybe we could I don’t know...properly start something off along the way.”
“I don’t know-”
“It’ll be fantastic! Nice hotels that are completely paid for, cool merchandise that we can probably get to you for free or at least on discount, getting to see artists that that are new and want to collaborate and grow with us,, and artists that we’ve always loved but could never afford to see?” George shook his head. “You can’t miss it. Please come along with us.”
Sighing, you lean into George and kiss him again. “I don’t know.”
“Think on it,” he says, handing you the spliff. You nod and accept the spliff thankfully, taking a few puffs. It’s not like you don’t want to go, but...it’s a lot of traveling, and you barely know what the future holds. Would going make you and George an item? Would going interfere with schooling, even just for the few nearby dates that he mentioned? Would you be accepted by fans? It all makes your brain hurt. You let the thoughts swim and berrade your mind until George takes the nearly burnt out spliff away and stares into your eyes. In a soft yet serious tone, you find him speaking to you.
"You’re one of my best friends, love. I-I need you there." There is a pause, and you can see his mind scrambling between emotions to work. "Come with me." He nearly asks it instead of begging, sounding nearly vulnerable. It hurts you to hear. After a few seconds more, you sigh.
"Alright.”
George lights up faster than a firework, his eyes going wide with excitement. "Yeah? You'll do it? You'll come with me? With the band?"
Giggling loudly, you nod. “Yes, George. I’ll go with you and the boys.”
In seconds, you find yourself tackled into a grandiose hug, George wrapping one hand around your waist and kissing you full of passion. The moment seems perfect, but suddenly you feel a searing pain in your side. Jumping with a slightly raspy and loud scream, you pull out from your side the remains of the spliff, burnt and crumbling slightly from being crushed against your skin.
"You burned me with the spliff!"
Although the pain is far from dull and guilt is ripping through George, both of you cannot help the laughter that follows your outburst. It’s such a silly and innocent mistake. George promises to make up for it by taking care of you later, and you accept, telling him he also owes you free merch for the damages. Laughter continues as he nods, and he kisses you softly once more before falling back onto the bed and celebrating the night’s excitement a little bit more.
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natsuhikoshidou · 7 years ago
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Invisible Ch.5 - Stylish Situation (Summary) Part 1
the longest chapter in the book, which i’ve seperated into 2 parts for your convenience. in this half, souhei makes some friends
Read Chapter 4  | Read Chapter 5 p. 2
When Souhei wakes up, he’s naturally full of energy. He slept rough 2 days ago and passed out yesterday, so he slept well last night. He had a dream about the night he turned invisible, and recalls the feeling of Haruka’s hand.
The room is similar to the one he woke up in yesterday, it was allocated to him by Seiji. He folds up the futon and puts it in the corner of the room.
He’s still a little sleepy and wants to know the time. He goes down the corridor a little but can’t find a clock, so instead he knocks on the door to the room next to his, which he remembers is Riina’s.
There’s no reply. He opens the door to see... Riina getting dressed. Immediately when their gazes meet, he shuts the door.
"...I, I'm sorry!", he didn’t hear a reply so he thought she wasn’t inside. He then hears the sound of her stepping on clothes on the tatami mat in her room, she opens the door by a crack and peeks out.
"I'm sorry! I absolutely didn't intend to peep on you... Actually, well, I just wanted to know what the time is now..." Souhei asked frantically.
"...I did."
"Eh?"
"I did, reply."
Riina’s voice was just small. Or Souhei was too sleepy to hear it. Either way, Riina doesn’t seem bothered. She has the same blank expression as usual.
Riina tells him that they don’t have time in the city. Naturally, Souhei wants to ask about that, but he’s too embarrassed so he thanks her, apologizes, and leaves.
Souhei leaves the building, there aren’t many people outside. He guesses it’s about 9 o’clock. 
Eventually he arrives at the bar from last night called <<JIRO>>, which is painted on an orange sign in black paint. He opens the door and hears someone call to him from inside: it was Jirou. Apart from him, there was no one else inside. He wasn’t too fimiliar with Jirou, but he was still happy to talk to him.
As Jirou makes him some food, Souhei asks him a few questions about the city: first of all, how Jirou can be motivated to work without any pay. Jirou laughs a little and tells him that cooking is his hobby anyway, so he finds it fun. Because he has freedom in his job, he doesn’t think about the reward.
Then, he asks about the time. Jirou tells him that they simply don’t use time. He’s lived in the city for 4 years and it’s never made any problems for him. Jirou hands Souhei the food.
Then he asks how many people are living here. Jirou says that they don’t know the accurate number, but it’s a lot. In any case there are some people that sneak in and out of the city. But he says he doesn’t understand why anybody would leave, and that if they truly knew what living in the Invisible City is like, they’d want to stay.
After he finishes his meal. Souhei goes up to the roof again to have a look at the city. He locates the stairs that lead to Riina and Souhei’s rooms and sees an area where some similarly aged boys are playing. He’s trying to become familiar with the city if he wants to live there.
There were some holes in the rooftop. Through one of the holes, he could see laundry hung up and various items lying around, including: “[...]A silver tank that looks like it's used for keeping liquid, a couple of large and empty oil drums, the hangar of a car, a folding screen, a turbine, a cathode ray tube television with a hole in the screen, a rake, an empty can, spray cans, a chipped brick, a folding chair, a wrench, several laundry poles, a bundle of firewood and a rubber hose.”. 
As Seiji described yesterday, Souhei walks down the path which goes around the circumference of the wall. There is a little trail in the wall where some people are sitting and playing cards, but it looks kind of shady so he doesn’t go down it.
Eventually he ends up at a strange place with grass coming up from the floor that's spread with water. There is an earthy smell. There, he sees a single boy who raises his hand to Souhei and greets him. Souhei recognized him as the boy with the spiky hair who told Seiji he had woken up yesterday, his name is Shibata.
He has his pants rolled up to his knees and is wearing boots and gloves. It seems like this place was a rice paddy. He approaches Souhei saying “Uhh, it was Shouheii, right?”. Souhei corrects him. He then takes his glove off, wipes his hand on his pants, and holds it out to Souhei, saying “Nice to meet you.” and they shake hands. He seems to be around 8th grade (13/14).
Shibata tells him this is a rice paddy; it’s his job to make the rice that he ate at <<JIRO>>. Souhei admires him, apparently he has never been able to even grow a single flower.
Shibata also points out some of the other fields. On the other side of the main street there’s a white tent where they grow vegetables.
He tells Souhei that they don’t get a lot of rain, not enough for the crops at least. According to Shibata:
"The city and the outside world's weather are completely different. A huge storm could fall on the outside world, but the Invisible City will just struggle to be sunny. Have you heard of seasons?"
"Seasons? What do you mean?"
"The Invisible City has one constant season. The kind of climate right now lasts forever."
"Eh... what about winter or summer?"
"We don't have it. Though it gets hotter and colder, it mostly feels like it is today."
Souhei asks how they get water then and worries that maybe running back and forth with jerry cans is a purveyors job. Shibata points to a well in one of the corners of town. Even though the well is a little old, it apparently never dries out.
He points to another corner and says that’s where they get gas, but he doesn’t understand how it works.
Souhei brings up that Seiji mentioned wind power. Again, Shibata points far away in the distance where there are some wind turbines. For some reason, the wind never stops over there, though occasionally the turbines break which causes blackouts.
Souhei sits down on a chair nearby and watches Shibata pluck some weeds. He offers to help, but Shibata tells him it’s best he doesn’t get involved in other people’s jobs unless he’s asked because there seems to be a territorial thing among the working residents.
Again, Souhei asks Shibata if he wouldn’t rather be playing. Shibata points to the skateboard that’s placed nearby and says that it’s fine because he plays a lot anyway.
Then, Souhei asks about Seiji, asking how long he’s been in the city. Shibata says about 2 years.
Souhei brings up that he asked if Seiji was the leader of this city. Shibata laughs and says that he always denies it, but it’s true that he is.
Apparently, before Seiji came to the city, people would always be fighting and forming groups against each other. He talked to the leaders of those groups and gave each group jobs to do so that they’ll have something else to do than fight all the time. Even still, they fight really often.
However, it became well known that Seiji was really strong at fighting, so now people don’t mess with him. But it also became well known that he’s a nice guy, so people respect him. Shibata seems to admire Seiji a lot.
After that, Souhei goes back to the rooftop. He seems to be becoming more comfortable with becoming an invisible person, he feels a lot better. You have to go up two buildings to get to the rooftop; after he makes it halfway down, he finds a passageway on the first building.
It’ pitch black inside, he passes by a fluorescent lamp and ends up in darkness again. Though he's scared of becoming lost, he wants to be able to navigate the alleyways like the residents of the city. 
He begins fumbling along the sides of the alleyway in the pitch-black in order to navigate. Occasionally he would trip a little over a step.
Eventually he sees a light. It looks like a small open space in the ceiling of an atrium, there are small windows in the wall where the sunlight comes through. 
He walks under the light. There, he can see a mountain of books have been piled up: about 100-200. It was almost as tall as Souhei.
He picks up each book and holds them out under the light. They include: “Novels and magazines, mooks, picture books, foreign books, a diverse field of specialized books” and separates them into two piles: “Already Read” and “Unread”. There were lots of “unread” books in the end. He says to himself “This is great.”
For the next couple of days, Souhei spends his time reading, taking the books with him wherever he feels like going.
One day, he recalls Jirou’s words: “If they knew what living in this city was like, I think they would want to return”. Up until now he has really been living life easily: he goes to <<JIRO>> when he’s hungry, he watches Shibata and his friends skateboard when he’s bored of reading. He’s starting to worry if it’s really ok for him to live like this.
He asks about that at dinner, everyone says it’s fine. Seiji says that it’s just what life is like here, and that he’s just still used to the way of living in the outside world
Souhei asks if it’s ok that he’s not doing work like Jirou and Shibata. Seiji smiles and says “No, you haven’t started your first job yet”. Riina was standing behind him.
Souhei thinks he hasn’t spoken to Riina much and that he still wasn’t sure if she thought he peeped on her. She’s holding a note in her hand and says “Tomorrow, we’re going, on a procurement”. Seiji pats Souhei on the shoulder, “It’s really tough.”
The next day, Souhei and Riina leave to the outside world together with backpacks. Riina hands Souhei the list she had last night, it says: 
“Whetstone, 10 size AA batteries, a knit hat (preferably red), 3 ball-point pens, cigarettes (preferably 12mm), cleaning brush, 2 Phillips head screwdrivers, 300g coffee beans, fishing line (at least 500 meters), perfume (whatever flavor), radish seeds, shampoo and conditioner (whatever brand, as long as it's for girls), chewing gum (peach flavored) and so on. It all comes up to about 40 things.“
A red light goes off in Souhei’s head. He asks if they’ll be stealing this stuff, Riina nods. Souhei asks about if they’re caught, Riina tells him they won’t be. She didn’t seem to care about stealing at all.
Souhei wasn’t told about stealing by Seiji. It’s probably because he would have declined and left if Seiji did. 
Sucking up his guilt, they head off. Though the way Riina suggests has lots of shops, it’s also full of people and therefore very dangerous for invisible people. But suddenly, Riina jumps out into the middle of the crowd. Souhei’s shocked, “If she's touched by a person, though we won't immediately be exposed, it would make quite a fuss.”
But she isn’t touched by anyone. In fact, Riina seems to dance past people, turning around nimbly to avoid touching them
The crowd didn't notice at all. By their eyes and the tips of their noses, a single girl jumped past. If they did see her body, it would dumbfound them. But now Souhei was dumbfounded.
Jumping 5cm away from the tip of the nose of a middle-aged man wearing a checkered polo shirt, after she landed, the girl finally turned around to Souhei- there in the shrubbery on the side of the road, it was like a safety-zone. That man wiped the sweat on his neck away with a handkerchief and walked off as if he didn't notice her in the slightest.
Souhei can’t mimic this though. A middle school boy actually bumps into him a little on his bike but he drives away. He finally manages to catch up to Riina, asking her if it isn’t dangerous to jump around like this. Riina says she’s used to it.
Suddenly, Riina runs up the handrail of a busy pedestrian bridge that’s about 10 meters high. When she reaches the top, instead of running back down, she jumps off the fence at the top and lands with a forwards roll. Souhei follows after her.
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Souhei asks why she did something so dangerous, but Riina seems confused and tells him that it’s just easier to do that, as there’s no people there. She’s worried about being exposed. Souhei seems worried about her.
He also asks if she jumps around in the Invisible City like that too, which she does. He recalls when they first met and she landed on his head.
Souhei compares it to parkour, but Riina doesn’t seem to know what that is. He read about it in a book once. He also asks if someone taught her, but she tells him that she learnt it naturally by herself.
He begins to worry if he truly will ever be able to catch up to Riina like Seiji said. Riina tells him that, if he practices, he’ll be able to do it too. For now, he follows her along the road. He remembers he has to do his job, even though he wants to return
After 10 minutes, they end up at a home center. Souhei has shopped here before.
"Let's go." and Riina began walking forward.
But as Souhei tried to enter the shop, his left knee lavishly bumped into the double automatic door. The standing glass shook with a "klunk" sound, and a customer inside turned around to them. He rushed because of impatience.
"Ow ow..." "You have to wait, until it opens." Riina said behind him. "I guess... you do."
I wish you would've told me that sooner. Though he didn't understand the structure of an automatic door, they use infrared sensors, they don't seem to react to invisible people.
Soon a couple comes out of the store and they go inside. Souhei is aware that he has to watch out for security cameras and people nearby. A couple comes round the corner and he puts the ballpoint pens he found back down. When they pass, he imagines what it would look like to normal people: pens floating in the air.
Riina explains to him that, once something enters the invisible city, it becomes invisible. Because the backpacks are invisible, the pens also will be when they’re put inside. As he apologizes to himself, Souhei puts the pens in the backpack.
After that, food like the coffee beans are acquired in the nearby mall. Everything on the list is procured.
As they’re walking home, Souhei thinks about Riina as he follows behind her. He wonders about her past, but recalls that there are some things he wants to keep hidden too.
Part 2 ->
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castlehead · 7 years ago
Text
[CAPARISON'D]
There is no judgment slightly more than kind Now left that wld apply to this suggestive thing
Artlessly done as it is, but like the Earth is artless, Myself the experience of the Earth I have, or
Rather, am able to communicate; sometimes Nothing more than that, and in those cases feel
I am but shavings of selfhood, not so held fully in A Physical Body, yet not even able to accurately
Imitate reality outside of my a priori orb: I always Fail to bring it back: example is one time I was
Supposed to buy pot for this trip to this dude I used To know's house in Martha's Vineyard but thought
Cops / Were throwing shade where I was even tho Probably like one patrol car had driven past me
Or whatever, somewhere on Columbus on the stoop Of this brownstone out of many -it was an affluent
Neighborhood, a few blocks from my house- and Anyway paranoia got to me before the dealer, whose
Name -which was really probably more like a nickname- Was 'Talon' -yo, man.. it's been so long I'd thought of
That. I remember: I ghosted into the / Better, darker Shade of pregnant shade my room had, the one I used
To hate and love at the same time, and which my irritated             Mother oft wld clean up for me, and which smelt of humiliation,
Like a group of people opening your door and immediately Stepping in dog vomit -I feel indifferent about it as I am older
Now, and it's been two years since I dropped The ball and fell out of a window- I mean / Chicken'd
      Out of getting the Pot.- The monotony is I almost Do get it, every time, stuffing it furiously
Into a fannypack i always lose, bc I must lose, it / Then End up having to purchase more fannypacks: o ugly futility: it is
                                        Like when my gf and I lost our wallets pretty  Sequentially, like, within the space of a week, the way
    We [both of us] lose our minds, certainly, every day: and the spirit of-- Reality? It goes and expires, the schmuck, from exposure in snowy
                 Caverns after my 9th goddamn Fannypack. / It hid so long Within the ear and don’t come out but
        As such, by its knotty refusals, tells me how meaning sounds: Now what’s the story here: these heroes, makars, tune
        Up me, leave me a lyric without an epyllion, an extended Sequence of spongy self-regard that grows in the heart of
These strange routes to find my wallet, yet much like         Exposure to cold climates, mayest I find where
Nestles this goon what who stole my griefy solemness
Took my schedule for my weeping: I must meet   My grief-quota, and pushing myself into my findings
I perform more experiments with beakers and shit   But in vain seem to leave my sanity figuratively burnt
In the corner, ignore her either bc I find her precious Or bc I am neglectful, and usually ignorant 
OF the long-time effect of loosening yr circadian Rhythm, which I guess would be apposite to The rhythm of when it was time to cry in public.
Finagling finesse, or robbing silence Of hours and hours / Of record.
Which one is worse? And are either Productive? And will Vaping give
Me early onset Dementia? I don't want to be A dull boy. I feel like buried beneath the concrete
Built of all great men Looms the rind of the thing,
The res' residue of Gd. That prays away inside all heroes
Like the precious goop inside a jelly Donut, a goop or honey / They seem
To acquire endlessly from caverns of perspective As sound the mechanical counting thuds of heart.
. .  .   .   .     .      .       .        .          .
Of all the spooky diameters these figures tell me To follow till the finish, / These podunk palings
Are the worst. Stretching up the road indeterminately            To someplace / Out of sight and that
The poet is not even sure is actually there. The thing you have done, the court of bees in
My head tell me, While you do not mind a response To this yet you tiptoe / Over that, puts pressure on
The work of a gaggle / Of random bros that can clone Themselves / Sifting into creation like wild atomic dust.
I hear this propounding from the court of bees, Crones lift up the light to me like strange furniture,
Double over under its [wait] weight and drop that Massive coffin of light into the local undrained swamp.
                              In that fabulous mire will yr body sleep; you will always               Harbor / In your chest that detailed yet subtle truth about you nobody
Knws about for certain, the thing you had no choice to Be, that blurs yr eyes, I speak of it you, saith the swarm.
. .  .   .   .     .      .       .        .          .
Honestly, write as speech of moment, yeh: Stuff about / The time passing, your thighmuscles
Clenching as you sit here realizing u clench Yr ass too, and then everything goes
Into this goofy rhythm of tearsdrops of moment And the same your toes, / Some anxiety hoping
To accelerate the past / From you and your palings. Surrounding you, as if to jump you for money-
-Flits the doom that could fit in like I didn't in Highschool; yes I became the cliché misfit as
The spirit’s lull in me, waiting for shitty misfit Carnage to end: I had to welcome it, it was
The life of me, it was either that or liberation From life-entire. Almost dozing off, the security
    Guard in my brain hears a rustling in the bushes. / Try                             To deck out these pithy voices in something
Nice and acceptable, a'saith, said The Bees, and Said the Bees, End up shaking no crown, / Nor did free myself
Of anything for nothing at all but what I did, a crime that Is, of being th the hellish flower flowering out my Lungs, into your basic realm with every breath,
As the voice of the speaker Of the pome seems undecided on who
Is actually speaking, me or you, I'd say The only thing to do is duel it out, poet
And the carnage in my hands, coming In frank whorls of feeling that efface
My sense of balance with its own glee Of shaky grip, which I trust, and I boil
With the energy / Of fifteen Wellbutrin today. I am left here to my work that's called, "To be all
The way true with myself" Which comes From this very domepiece here, you all. That I-
-Can ever be an audience to myself, forever, Is enough of an accomplishment as a poet.
. .  .   .   .     .      .       .        .          .
The writing, tho, is another voice telling me about Myself, knocking on my skull for hollow spots
To take a sledgehammer to. It drifts, I think, / Thru many People, explaining whatever's holy around them: like ticks
Finding weeds by the broken gate That grow in an unnatural sort of way like
        They got sprayed with chemicals Or something, though,
Perhaps the ground is bad, by the broken gate. Where I make my desolate way to work,
                                 Have my desolate work done, or to say, this crime:            I say my continuum: I despoil my ego, sure, but that is not the crime. I-
-Intend the risk, but have in me some coward Pushing back, repeatedly asking me if I'm
Crazy or something: suddenly I am fallen To the breaches of the World, so as to find
My Gd., the one that is the baroque one, And wriggle about as if I was a child on her
First plane ride: my ears hurting popping Cabin pressure and hellish something
Outing my innermost / What if's about The Baby; so it, like conjuring a thesis
Statement, shapes something of all That contradicting Clay into
Something my inner nobody can handle, frail as he is he Lays muted, finally attached to the beauty / Of the flower
. .  .   .   .     .      .       .        .          .
In my lungs. Go inside an Outside place, something says,
Permeating thru a fog of voices, Pieces, The bees they are long gone,
And I am not alone: so: notice Yr location, detail by detail,
The plain sense here is there: My symmetry is more than bothered air:
It is calls to me made by the telephone: I listen patiently to the dialtone as it weeps,
All things then taking on a character of Consciousness. I apply my consciousness
To others, like ravens do maybe. And then It is / Almost done, as is the inching doom:
I should b at this moment receiving Nourishment from feeding Tube, A coma patient suspended in Unbroken sleep, loved ones hoping He'll waken to his will again, Those I love / Doubly forsaken By me who thought he ws. forsaken
By the World.-- This perpetuity is a moody little fate I have in me, It is the location I notice, like you said, you, thru The fog. Happy? Now it won't leave. It is like A mouse i'the wainscot [Dickinson] / Telling me Myself, poet or perhaps the man, or the opening sun Once more to strange and futile dawns since since I do live, and live: so I am: and I have my own
Special clan of becketts picking Sundries from their asses
Soothing my jagged impressions of the World With familiar image, smoothing like a ironing Board; and, they keep policing the fictions on Which rest the reasoning behind my writing Behavior, why I did a song so very long.
. .  .   .   .     .      .       .        .          .
"Old father old artificer Stand me now and ever in good stead." Rough the linens on my deathbed are, and scratchy, It's wool I always hated the texture of when I was A kid: now of course, am a Loathing Regular of All On the internet, / Intent on memes to the last, he was, That's what it'll say on my epitaph. / In all my strength I say, then, or entreaty my messd up life disappear into
The dawn that I think has something wrong With it, it seems like it is kind of off, like People who are confined in boarding houses For the mentally ill. From my screaming Radio I hear someone selling Cadillacs. It Was not midnight. It was not raining. It was The fence that was my crime, outstretched Into stupid distances like a Wyoming of the Dirty cosmos, dirtier than silence cures the Exegete. I profit sentence by sentence, see,
And the Ars Poetica is a way to send a treatment Of the play to The Hollywood. Sentence is a line Robbing my habitat, until I am inside looking in, For the sky stops at the ground, and that is all. The mirror falls, and I must write out savage Things like this, that make up their mind About what they are, interest only
In keeping symmetrical. My soul needs exit From any light, even of lamp, it needs a Hypnotic Like Ambien to trip out on and slump over Dinner with my family later, still fucked up on It. Then something stops, not time, I do Not want it to be anything like time. Perhaps Verbosity: but I do comment
On epiphanies well enough to know the sound OF epiphany, without knowing what exactly The sudden clarity reveals. Did one look at What one saw, or did one see what
One looked at? -Thats me stealing from Hart Crane. Great artists steal because they see
How a style can be improved, so adopt it, make It better. Such sins amass; the Angels sing, O Theft!
Theft! And I go ahead plant a knife enough a knife for some Australian guy to say, "THATS A KNIFE." But not
Enough to charge anybody with anything, then somehow Twist it into a hate crime, duly distracting The Angels
From their liminal matters of blame upon me I am / Not thieving, I am making belated what Came before me, sort of like Mars in retrograde;
The stiff providence of fences and unlimited Bougie refernces atone for my ubiquitous use
OF all the best parts of everything, to make them Better than they were, written by those
Who wore a style like a 18th century noble Wears a musket: protectively. He honors most My steal, sorry, i mean style, who works under it-
-To destroy the teacher, saith Whitman, But that is love: all he didnt have was a hand On the button ol Kimmy J is foaming at the mouth
To push, destruction is abstraction, sure; Destruction here is used loosely for the sake of Serenity of speaking phrases gone away
Like they all went on a family vacation or something. Bleed, and you will summon presence enough To empty yourself for sleep [Faulkner] or make An infidel of abraham and Split the-
-Planets [Melville] and this cosmos is a trunk Of Blanche Dubois fine french furs, I bet you think this is
That, as on I go in a struggle to prove to everyone That I saw God & junk, on that day I got high On SSRIs and grasped for sense only to find it Under the control of something espionage And aloof, darting eyes not like a villain
But like a Paranoid Raven, then dies me as opposed To not: Reversal of some happy bumps in the day To make up for all the spooky ones in the night That hint at me like the first oncomings of ALS And I have not a feature film but hope the grass Is green as well on this margent of further sides Then abrupt belief, to dive in an' conquer or Repel sense back to Plato's Cave, which is a-
-Reference I shouldnt be using as I oh puritanical collector Of souls, well, I havent read Plato at all but i feel like if i did
Id be made another mans satellite, as Emerson, Somewhat in the vein of Blake, says in his introduction
                     To the essay Nature, I think that's the one. So: A hawk crosses the sky like there was some
A to B GPS followment but it is probably just migrating early. Take everyone back to the city. [Ashbery]
FURTHERANCE
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cddump · 7 years ago
Text
Again (Sitting Seven)
“Young Casper, is everything okay? Are you in need of assistance?” Chandra held his arm out to Casper, who had finished his laughing fit. He took hold of Chandra's hand and stood, still panting from his run. “It's fine. All you need to know is that I have an overactive imagination. And I'm out of shape.” “What's going on?” Ash placed the plate of apple slices on her computer desk. “Oh, habibi, have you been taking your medication?” Chandra handed the orange bottle to her. “I found this one in my office so I became worried.” “I'm taking them. I thought I lost them so I went to get another refill. It was a pain in the ass, but I manged to get them fine.” “I'll just be going now,” Casper said. He wanted to get out as soon as possible and was already inching towards the door. “Wait, why did you burst in here?” Casper sighed. “I thought...I don't know. I thought you forgot those meds and that they were like...” he trailed off. How could he say he thought she was going to commit suicide? “I was just worried.” “What, did you think I was gonna off myself or something? They're just anxiety pills. They help with panic attacks and stuff.” “Yeah well, I didn't know that.” Casper reached the door and walked through when he heard Ash's footsteps rush up to him. Oh boy, here we go. Sure enough, she grabbed his arm and spoke up. “Wait! Wait wait, did you really think I'd try and kill myself?” Chandra easily pulled Ash off of Casper, “Now habibi. Young Casper was just worried and was being a good neighbor. Do not read into it too deeply.” “But dad! We have a real connection! I can feel it!” “That's what you said about the last person that moved in. And you ended up driving them out with your antics.”
“Wait, what?” Casper turned around to face the two. “What do you mean she ending up 'driving them out?' “D-don't worry about that!” Ash said as Chandra sighed to himself. “Look, Casper's already made it farther than the other guy did! And Casper's single.” “No I'm not,” Casper lied, “I have a girlfriend.” Ash's face went pale. “W-why didn't you say that in the first place?!” It was a pathetic lie, but if it kept her out of Casper's hair for a while he'd be able to live with it. “What's her name, then?” “Now habibi, don't pry into Casper's personal life like this.” “Zoey,” Casper said, pulling up the first name he could think of. Well, the second name, actually. The first name was his sister's, and he wasn't about to claim to be dating his sister. “Zoey? You mean the girl on your lock screen?” “That's right. W-why do you think she's on my lock screen?” “I thought it was because it was your sister's picture...But why didn't you mention you two were dating when you showed me the picture the first time?” Shit! “Ah...well, you know...” Casper covered his face from view with both hands. “It's embarrassing, you know? I can't talk about her with a straight face so I tried to brush her off!” Ash wasn't having any of it. “If that's the case then why'd you move here instead of with her and your sister?! It doesn't make--” Chandra stepped in. “Now now, habibi. Young Casper has his reasons for his decisions. Speaking of which, now that I see you're fine with your medication, Casper and I have a few last things to discuss about his staying here. Would you join me outside, Casper?” Casper only nodded a silent thank you for the escape. Once more, Casper found himself in the hallway, three floors above Ash's room. The afternoon light had already begun to evaporate, and in its place were the slowly darkening skies. There was just a sliver of sunlight reaching past the horizon and though there was enough visible light left, the hallways were already illuminated by the automated ceiling lights. This was now Casper's home but the artificially lit hallway reminded him more of a hotel than a long-lasting living space. “Correct me if I'm wrong, young Casper,” Chandra said, “but you are not currently in a relationship, are you?” Casper looked towards the stairway, making sure Ash hadn't followed them. “No. Sorry I lied. Don't tell her, alright?” “I understand. My poor habibi has an overbearing personality at times. We've tried to talk to her but nothing's gone through. Maybe we should just accept her for who she is instead of trying to change her. Either way, I hope you can still get along with her.” Casper couldn't help but smile. “I think I've seen the worst of her at this point, so that should be fine...Or rather, I hope I've seen the worst of her.” Casper heard a soft whirring noise outside. Looking up, he saw a drone fly near the apartment building. “Are those things popular here? I saw one yesterday too.” “Hmm?” Chandra followed Casper's gaze. “Ah, the flying drone? No, though I do believe I see one flying around every so often. It would be fair to say there is probably one enthusiast in the city, but nothing beyond that.” “Oh. Alright. Hey, did you actually need to talk to me about something or was that just to help me get out of Ash's room?” “Hmm? Ah yes. Did you sign the papers this morning?” “Yeah. Gary should have them, I think.” “Then everything is perfect, young Casper. Please enjoy your stay. Here, allow me to give you small gift to welcome you.” Chandra pulled out his wallet and produced a small slip of purple paper folded into an envelope before handing it to Casper. “What's this?” Casper asked as he undid the flap. Inside was a plastic card, the same shade of purple as the envelope in came in. Written on it were two words in whimsical font: Coff-Coff. “It's a gift card for the coffee shop down the street. It isn't much, I'll admit—only five dollars—but I always feel the need to get something like this for people moving in. Considering your insomnia, I hope it does not offend you that I chose a coffee shop. I did so without realizing, you see. If it's a problem I can replace it with something else. Or perhaps a different--” “No no, this is fine! Really, don't worry about it. Thanks, Chandra. I appreciate it. In fact, I think I'm feeling a little thirsty right about now.” “Oh! Yes yes of course, please by all means! I have a few things I must take care of as well. Please take care, young Casper. Night is falling, after all!” A few seconds after Casper pressed the elevator's call button, the doors slid open for him. A pair of blue eyes looked up at him. “Oh, good evening,” the man said, “I haven't seen you before. Are you visiting someone?” The man standing in the elevator was tall and lean with pale skin and spoke in a British accent. He wore a dress shirt and slacks, and his black shoes shone in the elevator's light. Casper rubbed his fingers through his black hair, comparing it to the man's light brown hair. He was clean shaven while Casper sported stubble from his already growing beard. The fact Casper wore a a simple v neck shirt and hoodie with jeans while the other man was dressed in a more formal manner made Casper feel as if he was inadequately dressed. He stepped into the elevator. “N-no. No, I just moved in last night. Do you live here too?” “No. I was visiting my cousin, but he seems to be out, which is rare. I even checked the roof as he likes to spend some time there, but found nothing. Ground floor?” “Yeah, thanks.” Casper noted the man had already pressed that particular button as the doors began to close. “So who's your cousin, if you don't mind me asking?” “He lives on the first floor. Maybe you've met him, his name is Alexander.” Casper stared at the man, shocked. “You're related to him?! But you're so normal!” The man laughed. “Yes, I get that a lot. Alexander is...very eccentric and pursues strange hobbies.” “Hobbies, huh?” The man laughed quietly to himself but said nothing for a few seconds. Casper expected him to talk about Alex but instead said a single word that surprised him again. “Insomnia?” “Wh...what?” “I'm asking if you have insomnia. I can see the dark circles in your eyes despite looking as if you've slept more than the majority of the day.” “...Just a rough night's sleep.” “More like a rough couple of year's worth of sleep, but if you say so. I won't pry any further. My name is Richard, by the way. Richard Cain.” He held out his hand, which Casper hesitantly shook. “Casper Donn. Local insomniac.” Richard laughed again as the elevator reached the ground floor and opened once more. “Where are you off to then, Casper?” “This place called Coff-Coff.” He held up the gift card in between to fingers to show Richard. “Every been there?” “Yes I have. In fact, that was my next stop. Would you like me to join you?” Casper looked Richard over once more. They seemed to come from two different worlds; Richard dressed as if he was ready to head into a party while Casper looked as if he was about to get busted for smoking weed. “...Should I get changed first? What's the atmosphere like?” “Hm? Oh! No no, please you're fine as-is! If anything I'm over dressed. I'm just very used to this type of attire.” The pair walked passed the the security office where Gary eyed them for a moment before returning to his book. Casper could clearly see Gary had placed a Japanese manga over the book's pages and pretended to read the book while secretly reading his graphic novel instead. “I work at the local bank, you see. I spend a lot of time there and my closet has been filled with more dress-wear than casual clothing before I had realized it.” “Oh. Well, at least you're always looking fly, right?” Richard chuckled again as he exited the apartment building. Darkness had taken over the town, and the concrete walkway leading out of the lot was brightened by lamps that dotted the area. Casper looked towards the sky but saw only darkness. There were no stars to be seen in the city. Instead he brought his gaze forward. The streets were bathed in artificial light and the noises of passing cars in the distance filled the air. “So where do you work, if you don't mind me asking? Did you have a job lined up in this city before moving in?” “Huh? Oh, I uh, make a webcomic called Animals! Deluxe.” Richard rubbed his chin. “I'm sorry to say I haven't read it.” This time it was Casper's turn to laugh. “Don't worry about it. To be honest it'd be even weirder if someone like you had said you were a big fan of it.” “Is that so?” “You don't seem like the kind of person who'd read cutesy comics, you know?” “And you don't seem like the kind of person to produce cutesy comics. You seem a bit more on the rougher side.” “That's just me being grumpy from not getting any sleep.” “Speaking of. I find it hard to believe an insomniac would go to a coffee shop, much less during the night.” “I like hot chocolate,” Casper defended himself.
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myaquafarming-blog · 8 years ago
Text
Basic Tips On Substantial Consider Fish For Aquaponics Tank
You could make your own compost or acquire just what you need from the local cultivation supply salt away. Yet i'm opining concerning those citizenries who set blossom yards just for the benefit of looking skillful. Keep in mind, to turn selection floras, the trick to the radical light is tinting material, focus, and also continuation. It's well worth the time and effort. Return lengths of stem, regarding 12in 30cm long, eliminating the piano growing from the idea as well as creating a Fish For Aquaponics cut merely listed below a bud. These could consist of germinators, vertizontal systems and also supersun reflector systems. One more matter to take into consideration is the area where you want to have your setup.You need to preferably develop an obstacle so that the yard widow's weeds can be foreclosed from popping out up. It basically presented you to every little thing that's entangled in aquaculture from starting to end up. Among the welfares of showcasing an alright garden is it mitigates highlight. Affordable lights may not be aquaponics tank honorable for your floras and they could obtain damaged.
  When we determined this hook-up, the academic people actually hold to matter all of these points. It's a aquaponics tank ceiling insurance plan, to ensure that, if the gas monetary worth keeps to drop, you can support to those reduced monetary values. So this is what the aquaponics tank original schematic designing looked like. Gardens are of no exemption linked though without a doubt changes like the application of led maturate noticeable radiations for creating gambler harvests. 2 experience you discovered exactly how Fish Farming gardening facilities are, peculiarly in the spring or horticulture taste? This grow light is very easy uncommitted out there as well as is presently the much-loved option among tank farmings garden monsters. Do think about that you can be able to host and technique, for picture, egyptian aquaculture wheeler suppliers to allow them think your strategies? Turning with t5 fluorescent grow source of lights could not be a truly efficient methods of maturating plants.
The scientific definition of unaccented intensity/ illumination is the variety of photons that struck a minded surface area finish a time period. In direct comparison to early originate luminosities, led maturate visible source of lights carries out not hold costly infrigidation device. Expression for posers that have got steels that can be developed or superseded, structures with tension control and also with sizes that topper in shape your hands. Crush the intestines out and also you've got a actioned angle. Both of them ask enough tidy, water, temperature level, weak, as well as moisture. I affirmed, "well i don't hold one." despite the welfares of gardening inside the firm, in that location is no Aquaponics Fish Tank that everyone could accomplish commendable points. Using led fully grown lights gets on the ascent for a number of rationalities. That's an enormous jump. This makes certain the origins can hit all parts of the container and also transform decently. In that respect is no large concern of escalating month-to-month electric billings while appreciating the vantages of interior horticulture. You can see just what the octopus sees at the entryway to the snare.
  Why makes led stem light top the other stem lamps that are functional in the market nowadays? This form of expanding is significantly existing proliferated due to its positive advantages on wellness. The fellowships now look the government to pass the new statute law. For indoor hydroponic yards, photosynthesis can quiet take set by taking advantage of led originate tidy. Can you check it? You could produce use a commendable body of water lawn sprinkler to maximise the Aquaponics Fish development of the yard as well as very early plants in your yard. I say this was out of google. They're coming from quite well, and also we're developing algae consistently. The international aquaculture partnership is truly about preparing men and cleaning ladies to carry out in a more than lasting method their efforts. This is only one of the many understandings that t5 fluorescent originate lights are static lawful. A lot of these manufacturings are useful with reflective finishings that assures the visible light is evenly provided offering optimum insurance coverage. Blue spectrum of light from steel halide lights is mattress topper for hydroponic vegs.
  Maintain sheepskin all set to hand to shield any type of remaining craws from hoar. In that respect are numerous unconventionals of interior turn luminosities to draw from to use in indoor soil gardening and/or hydroponic cultivation. As you could chance diverse technique actings through which tomato plants can be made use of in culinary Aqua Culture stipulations, they are seldom ever counteracted. With more than and also much more masses expanding plants inside, the need for led grow brightness is even raising. We existed seeming at making use of alright particulates by oysters. However, you hold to make indisputable that you make use of respectable top quality source of lights. They jolly a lot have rearward up plans when points do not go as intended. If you prefer the source of lights to be on top of the industrial plants, you could choose a track lighting facility. These 2 motors operate up a suction totally free power of 5.5 ampere.
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