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sultryvodka · 3 years ago

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So I was wondering if I could request William from Moriarty. You can choose if you want it to be headcanons or a scenario. I don't mind either. 🥰🥰 But, basically Reader and William are in a relationship. However she has never seen William mad or express a lot of emotions. (Nevertheless he's always been a kind significant other.) So she decides that today she was going to tease him and try to get a rise out of him. Thus she does. Which William at these teases just sort of smirks. (Although there's a dark glint behind his eyes). At the end of the day when Reader and William are about to go to bed, as soon as the door closes.. Reader is in for some "Punishment".

So needless to say it's a but NSFWish. Feel free to decide on any k*nks and things related too! Of course if it makes you uncomfortable feel free to ignore it. 🥰

aHhh finally a spoicy request, i'm surprised the first one i received is for none other than william moriarty. man i just LOVE this show so much. alright enough chit-chat, let's get on with this, shall we?

dom! william james moriarty x bratty/sub! fem reader

warnings: smut, fingering, profanity, oral sex, degradation, consensual sex, & orgasm control

[ established relationship ]

- you and william have been an item for a good 6 months now, you've known each other since both him and louis were still part of the orphanage. you happen to be the silent type, much like his younger brother.

- as a toddler, you've silently observed william and louis from a distance, finding yourself quite interested in whatever they talked about.

- william had always been quite the cunning man and it still holds to this day, 24 years of age without a wrinkle insight. during the times you spent with him as a curious 6 year old, his facade doesn't shift unless his brother is involved.

- over the period that william was out of reach, you happen to go about your own simple life and managed to become a teacher at the local kindergarten. your free period spent around the walls of the orphanage.

- one faithful day, the moriarty brothers paid a surprise visit, offering to shoulder the school fees and monthly allowance. you were beyond grateful and william found himself coming every weekend just to see you.

- he wouldn't miss coming by until he eventually offered you to stay inside their manor. he figured it would save you from the trouble of ticket fees from the village your place used to be. little by little he told you about his plans, afraid you might run away from him.

- but you knew him well enough and nothing would push you away from him.

- william took his time with you, taking you out on proper dates and you enjoyed it. he was nothing but kind, sweet, and respectful towards you. that was until this evening.

- it was all because of your sneaky scheme of trying to get a rise out of him. william had to teach at the university today, you told him that you'll behave yourself and simply pretend like you're one of his students.

- you didn't stay true to your words though. teasing him slightly as you shift in your seat, rubbing your thighs and chewing on your bottom lip. you both held eye contact very well but william kept his attention on everything and everyone else but you.

- to your disappointment, your lover didn't pay you the attention you craved for. not until you finished supper and headed to your respective quarters.

!! nsfw, 18+ !!

" you look disappointed, my darling. have i done something wrong? " william whispers softly as he held you from behind, one arm around your waist as the other caresses your neck. you can feel him smirk as he trails open-mouthed kisses unto the exposed skin of your back. hearing your sweet little whimpers made him sigh as your clothed ass rubs against his hardened cock. a deep chuckle follows as he guides your body to face him, hands tangled with the laces that held your dress perfectly tight against the curves of your body.

you look up at him through your lust-blown eyes and heavy eyelids, pleading him to touch every part of your body for the relief you've been aching for. he presses a kiss on your cheek, whispering reassurances as he rids you of your clothes. once your dress falls off to the ground, his hands found your body. warm hands in contrast to that of the cold sea breeze from the small gaps on the windows. your hands found his cheeks as he slipped his tongue between your lips, sucking and tasting every bit of your mouth. yes it was sloppy but every movement of his ignited the warmth inside your chest and your dripping cunt.

" Liam, please. " you begged through your pants, pulling his hand to slip inside your soaked panties. a moan escapes his and your lips as two of his fingers easily slipped inside your pulsating lips. you've never seen william with a creased forehead and ragged breathing. he looked so hot with sweat dripping down his forehead. his eyes finally met yours, but the glint of his eyes were feral and angry. " Look at you begging like a pathetic little bitch. I would have never imagined that a sweet girl like you could beg this desperately. Huh? What was that --- fuck! Look at you choke on your own words. Be a good girl and keep those moans to yourself. " you bit down on your lip as william began slamming his fingers into your wet pussy. those words coming from his mouth sent you close to your orgasm. but you want to be his good girls so you held both your moans and your climax.

he watches as you squirm and held unto his arm as he curls his fingers, hitting just the right spot to push you over the edge. his red eyes peering over your pathetic irises as he mercilessly pull his fingers all the way out. the grin on his face made you tremble with arousal. " Go on doll, tell me what you want me to do. "

" Please sir, make me cum on your fingers. "

william smirks at your words, satisfied with the response you gave him, he bent down and licked at your throbbing clit before pushing his fingers back in. " Go on princess, beg for me. " you screamed for his mercy, wanting to reach your climax like the greedy woman you are. his fingers curled, reaching the sensitive flesh as he peppered small kisses unto your glistening cunt. only pulling away as your juices coated his hand. he chuckles, soothing your quivering thighs as he pushed his digits into your mouth. " Clean them up for me, my love. I'm not done with you just yet. "

well that was quite... 👀🤌 something. anyway it's my first timing posting, let alone finish a proper smut scene. let me know if i missed any warnings and i sincerely apologize for any mistakes grammar & spelling wise. i want to post at least more than twice a week so i'll work on my other requests in the morning. i hope you guys liked it! feel free to send in your requests and comment down any suggestions and creative criticism. i would love to work on my writing for both you guys & myself. ♡ have good day/night!

#moriarty the patriot headcanons #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #william moriarty smut #william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #william james moriarty smut #🌸☁️works

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professorbcampbell · 4 years ago

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Seeds of Change || Solo

Timing: March 28th, 2021

Location: The Common

Tagging: @professorbcampbell

Description: Ben decides to see what the Spring Festival has to offer beyond the garden variety flowers and hedges. He finds something rather unique.

When Ben had first caught sight of the spring festival during his run-in—he smirked to himself at that little joke—with Irene, he had initially brushed it off as nothing more than something his mother would probably enjoy. Prize rose judging, people attempting to chop down bushes and call it art, that sort of silly thing. But, he’d chosen to venture deeper into the depths of the festival on the weekend. He couldn’t remember the last time they had a spring festival of this… botanical in nature. And he had an impeccable memory. Ben had always made a point of being involved in the periphery of as many social gatherings and events as he could, keeping an eye out for whatever wandering soul might happen upon him.

Hands stuck in the pockets of his neatly pressed trousers, Ben meandered through the stalls. Tulips, gardenias, orchids—there was no rhyme or reason to the types of flowers that were sprouting up from the stalls. But, he wasn’t looking for flowers.

No, he was interested in something… worthy of his Lord. His monthly ritual was fast approaching and it had been quite some time since he’d gifted his Lord with something beyond the usual offerings of blood and bone. Strolling along the grass, Ben spotted a man smoking away at a pipe—a disgusting habit—at a stand with some rather… unusual wares. The stall was shrouded in dark cloth hangings, with chests tucked away in the back. Meanwhile, the front of the stand was lined with sturdy, barred wooden boxes that held… watermelons? Normally, such a stand wouldn’t have interested him at all, but there was something drawing him in, something seemed to be pulling him towards it.

As he made his way towards the stall, he stared first at the strange fruit on display. All of them seemed to be rustling with an energy Ben was most familiar with. Intent. Dark intent. Looking down at the boxes, Ben noticed there was a strange gap in the watermelon rind, as though they’d already been sliced into. But, as he peered closer, he could see the ruby red flesh was darkened with a glossy sheen that Ben had seen so many times before. Blood.

“Interesting product you have there.” He said to the man, offering a smile. “Do you sell other items?”

The man regarded him for a moment, puffs of smoke coming from his mouth as he stared at Ben from behind bored, dark eyes. “Nothing you’d be interested in.” The man said gruffly. “I don’t think you’d even want one of these. They’re a bit more trouble than they’re worth. Well. They are for some.”

Irritation bubbled in Ben at the implication, but he let out a laugh, “Ah, appearances can be deceiving. I’m more than familiar with things like this.”

“You’re in over your head. Go look at some tulips, pretty boy. Get some flowers for your lady.” The man said, grasping the end of his pipe to point the stem dismissively at Ben. As he did so, Ben could see a hint of silver flashing between his teeth—oh, how very interesting. He was familiar with the stories, had spent so many hours listening to his parents and his grandparents, passing along the stories that their parents and grandparents had told about the creatures that lived in this town. He had heard about the men with silver tongues, with smoke billowing from their noses. Never seen one, not as far as he could tell. But here was one, right in front of him.

Ben knew he had to make the right impression.

With a rueful shake of his head, Ben glanced down at the strange watermelons again. “I’d really love to get a better look at these.” He said and his fingers went for the wooden clasps of the box. The man behind the stand let out a strangled swear and reached out to slap his hands away. Immediately, Ben grasped the man’s hand tightly in his own. The man tried to squirm away, but the moment he did, Ben could feel the ancient signet ring he wore on his left-hand press against the vendor’s flesh. It was an old heirloom, passed from father to son for generations, and he had always worn it with pride. The dark, heavy metal was worn and looked distinctly shabby in comparison to the well-kept suits he favored, but it was a piece of Campbell tradition. A piece of history and ancient power. A gift, granted to them directly by an acolyte of their Lord, hundreds of years ago.

And that power, it was with him today. The smell of charring flesh filled the air between them as the man tried to wrench his hand free, but Ben’s hands were a vice grip around him. He could feel the man’s skin sizzling against him, knew that a deep, burning “C” was being branded into his palm. Leaning forward, Ben held the man’s gaze and said in a pleasant, warm voice. “Now. Vampiric watermelons are a bit banal, don’t you think? I’m looking for something unique,” a worthy offering to his Lord, something that he could gift him at the coming ritual, “Something worthy of a higher power. What can you offer me?”

The man let out a halting, stuttering, “L-Lots. Lots to offer. Just—just let me go.” He pleaded. Ben tilted his head with a growing smile, not releasing the man’s hand.

“Oh? But I thought I was in over my head,” He squeezed tighter, driving the ring deeper into the burning flesh. Blood was beginning to drip through their interlocked hands, sizzling as it made contact with the metal around his finger. “I thought I was just a pretty boy. You’d really give something like that to me?”

“Yes.” The man choked out as Ben gripped his hand. He could feel the center of the ring begin to burn and sear its way towards the bone of his hand. “Yes, anything, anything you want. Just let me go, let me go!”

Triumphant, Ben released the man’s hand and pulled back to look at the stand with a thoughtful expression. Meanwhile, the vendor was swearing, tears running down his face as he wrapped his charred and bleeding hand in the hem of his shirt. Ben paid no mind, eyes too busy greedily taking in the items before him. Boxes filled with unknown contents, bottles with strange, glowing liquids, bones strung up into mysterious charms, feathers with a luster he’d never seen before—so much to choose from. So much, too much.

“You know,” Ben said, voice light and conversational, “I’d hardly call myself an expert on things of this nature. I’m sure you’d agree. No, you sir, are far wiser than I.” He said with a toothy smile before leaning forward, the blood slicked surface of his ring glinting in the light. The man recoiled visibly, backing away into one of the stacked boxes kept behind him.

“I want your most valuable item.” Ben said. The vendor’s face paled and, for a moment, he looked as though he wanted to protest. But, even as the thought crossed his face, Ben watched with interest as the man doubled over, as though stricken by a wave of pain. Was it because of the power of the ring? Was it compelling him to obedience? Or was it something else? Ben didn’t know, but he watched with growing fascination as the man jerkily turned around.

His movements were stiff and halting as he pulled a strange, curving key that seemed to be made of… woven twigs? No, Ben realized as the man fumbled to push it into the latch of a dark, oaken chest. It was a single piece of wood that had been grown into the shape of a skeleton key, dark green leaves sprouting from the handle.

With some difficulty, the man extricated a small velvet pouch from the box and tossed it across the stand at Ben. He caught it easily, undoing the draw strings with growing curiosity. What could be in it? Some kind of magical elixir? An ancient treasure, with incredible power? He emptied the contents into the palm of his hand and blinked. Seeds. Three plain, dusty looking seeds sat in his hand.

“This? This is the best you have?” He said in disbelief, shaking his head as he dropped the seeds back into the bag. He tucked the little pouch into the pocket of his jacket, resting above his heart. The man stared at him with spiteful eyes.

“Get away from me and away from my stall.” The man spat, “I’ve done as I said, and you’ll not get another word out of me.”

With a self-satisfied shrug, Ben wiped his bloody hand clean on the cloth banner of the stand before backing away. He wasn’t sure what he’d been given, but if that… creature considered it his most valuable possession, it would be more than satisfactory to gift to Lord Hrvsht’ooooor. Ben could see it now—he could see himself dressed in his robes, the scent of fresh blood in the crisp midnight air, surrounded by the others of his order. He could picture himself, drinking deeply from the dark chalice that sat at their altar, presenting his humble offerings to his Lord. And his Lord, He would be pleased. He would know of the power of these seeds, know that his servant had proved himself.

He would reward him, finally grant Ben everything he’d ever wanted—

A stumbling man careened into Ben, wrenching him from his pleasant daydream. The man—at least a foot shorter than him—did his best to right himself, grasping onto Ben’s suit with a filthy, dirt covered hand.

“Sorry, sorry.” The man giggled, steadying himself before offering an almost drunken head bobble.

“Get off me,” Ben said with disgust, yanking his arm away from the man’s grasp. He’d already lost his suits to horned rats, he was not interested in having another one ruined by filth. “Get out of here.”

“Already gone!” The man sang as he darted away, stumbling into the crowd of people.

With an irritated frown, Ben made his way through the Common towards the parking lot. He’d had rather enough of this little festival. It was high time he returned home and prepare for the coming ritual. He had an offering to prepare, invitations to send out, he needed to get wine—probably a cheese platter for the celebration after. As he mulled over these details, his hands went to the pocket of his jacket for his car keys. His fingers closed around his key ring but…

Swearing, Ben patted his jacket furiously. It was all in vain, the pouch had disappeared. It was nowhere to be found. The seeds, that were rightfully his, they had been stolen. It must have been that disgusting little man, the one who’d fallen into him. How had he not noticed? How had he not felt it? How could he have just let them be taken like that?

As Ben continued to search his pockets with increasing desperation, a sinking feeling of realization filled the pit of his stomach. Of course. Of course.

The man had stolen his wallet, too.

#p: soc #solo #wickedswriting

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

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Women are Space Orcs

Alright ever one, been pretty excited to give you this one. I have a few female characters, including Sunny, that I thought deserve a little love. Plus I wanted to explore the dynamic between Sunny and other members of the crew.

Its just supposed to be a fun little adventure, so nothing philosophical or anything :)

Sunny walked beside Adam as he paced through the cargo bay checking off shipping manifests on his clipboard, checking and rechecking the equipment they would need for re-supply. They had stopped on the Tesraki home world for a much-needed rest and some recuperation. They would be here a couple days, so shore leave was in order for a night or two, a prospect the entire group was excited about considering what the Tesraki home world had become.

If the Tesraki and humans had one thing in common, it was their desire for a good time. It had probably been a horrible idea to introduce the Tesraki to the idea of gambling and casinos. Honestly it had probably been a bad idea to introduce the Tesraki to capitalism as it was, since they took to the idea like fish to water, but mistakes had been made and there was no turning back.

On the coattails of that debacle, the Tesraki;s home world had quickly transformed itself into the Vegas of the galaxy knowing, in true business fashion, that humans couldn’t resist debauchery and a good time. The sheer amount of revenue and inherent benefits that had come to them simply by way of human tourism had been astonishing, raising their planetary gross income to 7% more than any other planet in the GA system.

Commander Vir paused beside another pallet of cargo.

“Hey, SUNNY! SUNNY!.”

Sunny Turned her head in a wide arc searching for the voice and found a group of women standing next to one of the shuttle doors, each waving at her. She left Commander Vir out of curiosity and walked over.

Dr. Katie was there with a few women from engineering and a couple female marines. Maverick, a short female marine with buzzed blond hair and grey blue eyes greeted Sunny with a wolfish grin. “‘Bout time. I’ve been yelling at you for half a minute.” Sunny looked around the circle. It was strange seeing the marines in anything other than their usual uniforms. Maverick was wearing camouflage cargo pants, a black tank top and a pair of blue tinted sunglasses perched atop her short blond hair. Dr. Katie wore a form fitting black dress and pointy red shoes. Another marine had her warm strawberry blond hair curled down past her shoulders.

“Where are you guys going?” Sunny wondered.

“Out on the town, where else. A couple of us decided to get together and go get wasted, or whatever trouble we can get into, maybe lose some money. We don’t know, yet.”

Sunny glanced back towards where the Commander was standing, still going through inventory. “Oh, well I don’t know if we were-”

“Oh come on, the two of you hang out all the time. I think it’s about time you got out more, besides we’re prettier.” The group laughed. Dr Katie flipped her hair and grinned at Maverick, “Well, except for Maverick, but we had to have an ugly one to make the rest of us look better.”

Maverick snorted and waved a hand, “Are you kidding me?” She motioned seductively, “Nothing can top ‘this’.”

“A sack of lard,” more laughter.

“Keep laughing ladies. You’re just jealous of my stunning physique. As I was saying though, seriously Sunny, you need to get out. The Commander has work to get done anyway and he's going to be boring for the next 48 hours.”

Sunny wavered on the edge of indecision as a pair of boots thudded on the ground next to her.

“What are you jackals trying to get sunny into?”

Katie linked an arm through one of Sunny’s, “Girls night, and YOU aren’t invited.”

“Yeah only women or those who identify as such are allowed’” one of the engineers piped up from the back.

Commander Vir snorted, “Y’all better be glad I don’t identify as a woman,”striking a quick pose and flipping imaginary hair over his shoulder, “because I’d be the prettiest.”

“Yes, a beautiful monkey, sir.”

Jackie tilted her head, “You know, now that I think about it probably not the prettiest, or the smartest, or even the strongest. Bet Mav could crush you with her thighs if she wanted to, pop your head like a melon.”

He raised an eyebrow, “As fun as THAT sounds, I am afraid you might be right. You all are too much for my delicate sensibilities. I was actually coming over here to give you the pre-leave lecture.” He cleared his throat, “Don’t get pregnant, don't get anyone pregnant, don’t sell your body for money, don’t accept drinks from strangers, any bail, ransom, or parking tickets will be paid out of your monthly wages. Keep all debauchery, drunkenness, fighting and gambling to a minimum, and please for the love of Jupiter, try not to kill anyone.”

“Yes sir, I will try very hard not to get anyone pregnant,” there was laughter about the group.

The commander raised a hand, “It is 4023, so I am SURE you could find a way.”

“What if I get kidnapped Commander, can I hurt them then?”

“You wouldn’t need to hurt them Jackie. They would bring you back and I would make them pay ME ransom to take you back,” he tucked the clipboard under his arm and looked at Sunny. “Good luck with this group. Don’t die, and don’t kill anyone.”

She hadn’t exactly decided to go with them just yet, but it appeared as if that decision had been made for her. She waved a hand at the Commander who turned back to his earlier duties as the group of marines, engineers and one doctor stepped their way into the small shuttle. The strawberry blonde CJ was a passable pilot and took them down through the clouds with a loud whoop. Sunny’s stomach flew into her face reminding her rather unpleasantly of what she had had for breakfast.

Mav sat next to Katie opposite and over the roaring of entrance into the atmosphere Sunny heard bits of conversation. “I hate it when people assume that you have to choose one or the other. It’s the 41st century, if I want to play with big guns and explosives AND get my nails done afterwards, I am going to damn well do it. You’d have to be stupid to turn down either option, so I say, best of both worlds.”

Katie raised an eyebrow.

The way the light cut across Mavrick’s arms and shoulders made it pretty clear she spent a good portion of her time at the gym.

Dr. Katie through a strand of hair over her shoulder, “Ok, yes I agree, but also at least be careful when you do that sort of thing. I have been a doctor long enough to know what degloving skin looks like, and yes it is exactly how it sounds. So please for the love of all that is holy BE CAREFUL. Personally, just give me a good book and a bag of chips and I’m set for the afternoon.”

“What genre?”

“Meh, whatever strikes my fancy. Mostly fantasy if I am being honest, sometimes romance hits the spot, but other times I can do for a western. It just depends on the day.”

Sunny tilted her head, listening intently. While she had spent a lot of time with the marines, she had never actually gotten to know them on a personal level and she barely knew the name of the women from the engineering and science departments.

If she was being honest, she didn’t really have much of a relationship with anyone, especially not women.

She never really had, considering her history with her mother.

She grew up spending most of her time with her brother and her father and eventually she had become such good friends with Adam that she had become rather short sighted with her other options aboard the crew. To be honest though, it didn’t much matter on her home world, so she couldn't imagine that it would be much different here.

She couldn’t help but pipe in on the subject of weapons which turned into good natured banter between her and Mav who had some pretty strong opinions about the nature of projectile vs energy weapons. Though when it came to other subjects, she was a bit lost. The humans were an interesting race in that they enjoyed both their war and their relaxation in equal measure, so the topics they were discussing went heavily over Sunny’s head.

She got involved in a couple of conversations she probably could have done without. Humans were gross no matter which group of them you talked to. The only difference was this group of humans was more willing to share

The discussion on how to properly scratch a nipple in public was followed by a debate that included but was not limited to scratching in other unmentionable places, random overgrown hairs, body fluids, body smells and on and on.

Sunny turned the conversation back to music, something she was comfortable with. Mav liked punk, alternative, and hard rock, Dr. Katie was ok with anything as long as it was catchy. Jackie, the engineer, had a thing for country music, and CJ was some strange mix between classical and R&B it just depended on the day. The other women chimed in with their favorites and soon all genres were accounted for.

They were all laughing about something by the time they hit planet side and Sunny stepped from the shuttle, eyes wide as she turned in a circle talking in the bright neon lights and a million billboards shamelessly advertising for human tourists. Billboards hundreds of feet across showing pictures of half-naked models, both men and women, rose high into the sky.

The one sad thing about the future was that it hadn’t stopped the objectification of the human body, but had simply equalized the amount of objectification between the sexes, men and women in equal measure, because it was always easier to sell a product when you were really just selling sex instead.

The Terasaki certainly had no moral qualms about doing it either. It wasn’t their species after all.

CJ clapped her hands together throwing her strawberry blond curls over one shoulder, “Alright, we need a game plan.”

Mav eyed one of the billboards, “How about we start there?” she pointed.

The group of them turned to find an advertisement for nightly ring fighting, “It’s just like what I was saying, gotta go see someone get fucked up before I get my nails done, that's just how things should be. Plus twenty bucks says there will be alcohol for those of you who are less interested.” “Hey, I am down for anything as long as I get a massage later.”

Mav nodded, “Deal, I get to watch someone get the snot beaten out of them and you can get wasted. Everyone wins.” Sunny wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected, but she liked what she got. Sunny, Mav and CJ got seats just outside the ring while Jackie, Katie and a few others stormed the bar. Turns out CJ had a thing for yelling at the referee. Mav didn’t care what happened just as long as someone was getting punched in the face and Sunny, well Sunny loved it yelling and screaming with the rest of the humans as Drev and Humans alike beat the pulp out of each other.

Halfway through the night Sunny was interrupted

“Hey,, HEY, Scarab.” Sunny turned around to find a large human looking at her from the aisle, “Why don’t you go stand with the rest of the Drev. I reserved these seats.”

Sunny looked down at him, “Uh ... yeah, there’s room.”

“Let me talk slow since you don’t seem to speak good human, but you’re big and I don’t want your arms getting in the way of my view so why don’t you get lost.”

Sunny was ready to ignore him, but before she knew what was going on Mav and CJ were standing in front of her arms crossed, “The hell you say, you DON’T talk to our friend, bitch.”

The guy looked a bit nonplussed, but straightened himself up, “I told her to go sit with the other Drev.”

“I didn’t know these seats were segregated.” Mav shot back, “but if that’s the case, I think idiots are seated on the other side.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, I’m not. Now either you can back up, or I can back you up.” Mav was right in his face now, but CJ put a hand on her arm warningly. It was human culture that the first person who threw a punch, whether man or woman, was opening up to a fair beating.

Sunny stood from her seat looming a good foot to two over her short companions glowering down at the man. She didn’t say anything. The man backed up a few steps.

“Aww….. little bitch gonna cry to mommie,” Mav taunted, much to the chagrin of CJ.

The guy’s face turn beet red, “If you weren’t-.”

“Here let me finish-”

CJ grabbed Mav by the arm and pushed her back to her seat, “Down Mav.” She turned her eyes back to the guy “Look Imma make this as clear as I can. We aren't moving, so either you get over it and take a seat or you get the hell out. Pick your poison.”

The guy took his seat and shut up. Sunny couldn’t help making a point to step in front of him a few times blocking his view with her bulk. Mav got a kick out of her pettiness, but eventually they left to find Jackie, Katie and the others at the bar. Just a few drinks in and already they were coming up with stupid dance moves.

Grabbing them, they moved out of the bar and onto the street. It was leaning towards late evening, but managed to get themselves checked into a nice little spa hunched between two buildings, a bit out of the way and pushed back from the rest of civilization. Everything going on here was pretty foreign to Sunny.

The Drev had nothing comparable in their culture to this practice, and she watched in confusion as the other humans took their seats at strange tables. Mav was “getting her nails done,” pointing out that there was nothing better than a hand massage and anyone who disagreed could go right ahead and fight her. Katie had her feet soaking in a pool of hot water, while Jackie lay on her stomach on a strange flat table towel wrapped around her curly dark hair obscuring her face while her dark skin shone in the delicate white light overhead.

Water trickled somewhere in the distance, and the entire room was done in shades of white and pastel giving it a very un-Drev aesthetic.

It was an extreme 180 from the earlier venue and Sunny wasn’t entirely sure how to behave.

Eventually, someone came to her rescue as she was ordered to take a seat and relax by CJ, who determined she was in for a treat. Sunny had to admit the warm towel around her neck was nice and she hummed softly as her feet soaked in a pool of water. The human that walked in looked a little surprised to see her, but shrugged and got to work. It took a little more elbow grease to get through Sunny’s tough hyde, but when they managed it Sunny had to admit it was probably the best feeling she had ever experienced… in pretty much ever.

Mav snickered, snapping a picture of the big blue Drev, face covered in a green mask, cucumbers over her eyes, sprawled in a chair as one person messaged her huge neck muscles, one worked on the claws of her left upper hand, and another knelt at her feet.

Sunny was quite displeased when her time was up. She needed about an hour more work on her shoulder muscles and at least another ten minutes on each of her hands, but her time was up so they paid, leaving just as a few familiar faces walked in. Another group of tipsy marines, who made it very clear that they intended to get their feet done while they were here, were filing in.

Sunny found the image somewhat amusing, but was glad to see they were having fun and agreed with their decision. She had a new favorite pastime now and understood why they had chosen it.

With that amazing ritual behind them, they went out to eat. The humans ordered a round of drinks and Sunny asked for some water, not actually capable of getting drunk in the same way that humans did. The berries and fruit that her species ate were often fermented when preserved, giving her species an extreme tolerance to ethanol such that it wasn’t even worth trying to get drunk since you would likely die of heightened liquid consumption before actually reaching the point of intoxication.

Humans on the other hand reached that threshold pretty quick. A few of them were a bit closer, having consumed a few drinks earlier in the day and were not yet totally down from that high. As the night grew on the conversation got louder, and much more interesting.

Dr. Katie raised her hands, “ok ok… you wanted to hear it so I’ll give it to you. I’ve worked in the ER for fifteen years plus trauma centers and other level one clinics and there is NOTHING I haven't seen, and I mean nothing.”

“Worst story,” Mav urged.

“No…. no, no, no, not at the dinner table,” begged one of the ladies.

Katie took a drink, “There was this one time I come into a room to check on a patient, and there is this guy with real shifty eyes and he can’t stop squirming. Real professional looking type right, so immediately I know he’s got something crammed up his ass.” The table burst into a fit of giggling. “So I go up to him and I ask him what’s wrong and he hems and haws and he's all like ‘Doc, I have some intestinal pain, a stomach ache,’ you know because of the thing he's got jammed in his ass.” More giggling. “So of course I ask him all the usual questions, where is the pain, is it something he ate, how long has this been going on, you know and the entire time I am just trying to figure out what he's got up there, because I KNOW he's got something up there, but of course he won’t admit it. We go around like this for like twenty minutes, right, and eventually I am just like send him down to radiology. If this guy won't give me a straight answer, I bet an X-ray will.” Sunny shook her head. “Low and behold, the x ray comes back and what does this guy have spelunking in his insides? None other than… a Barbie doll.”

“No!”

“Yes, and he had thought about this, like, he had tied her arms down to her sides with rubber bands to make sure they stayed in place. So I go back in there, I look at him and I show him the X-rax and of course he plays it like I’m a moron. ‘Well doctor, I was cleaning my kids playroom, naked,’ as you do, ‘and I slipped and fell.’” Maverick snorted into her drink. “And of course I am like yeah sure, but why didn’t you tell me that when you came in, and you know what this sucker does? He Looks me dead in the eye and goes…I forgot.”

The table erupted into laughter. CJ laughed and wiped her face with a napkin, “Now hold on, I got one. It was in boot camp.”

Mav rolled her eyes, “Oh no.”

“Oh yes, some of the guys had been clearing an abandoned hotel, as part of our training. I wasn't there at the time, but I guess while they were looking around they find this nine inch, monstrous rubber dong stuck to one of the walls. So of course they laugh it off right, and go back to what they were doing. Well, when they come back later, it isn’t there. Kind of weird, but whatever. At least whatever until this thing starts SHOWING UP around barracks. Like our Sergeant walks in one morning to do an inspection and we had all just gotten up right, so none of us were paying attention. She starts yelling at us like she does and then goes all quiet. She tilts her head one way and then the other. I swear I have never seen someone look so confused in their entire life and she’s all like, “What the fuck is that?” We all turned around to look and this thing is sitting in the middle of the damned floor and it just flopped to one side, and you know of course we can’t stop it so we just start laughing. The sergeant is trying not to laugh and everyone is trying not to laugh, but it just gets worse. When she could finally talk she just starts screaming at us, trying to figure out what the hell we had been doing the night before. I don’t think I’ve ever done so many pushups in my life.”

Jackie raised a hand just then, “No hey, I have always had a question for you guys about the whole boot camp thing. So what do you do when it’s your time of the month? I mean do they let you guys off easy to go fix things? Or do you just have to suffer?”

“Suffer,” Mav piped in. “Mostly suffer. Like I knew girls who would be bent doubled in pain and still had to stand in formation with us like it was nothing. I mean honestly the shit we had to go through. Seriously, there is nothing worse than standing in front of your sergeant and feeling half your innards just sort of shlop out of you and you have to look this guy in the eye like nothing is going on. Like yes sir, no sir, like insides aren’t totally falling out right now.”

Jakie moaned, “Tell me about it, cramps are the worst.” She glanced towards Dr. Katie, “Seriously, when is the medical field going to do something about that?”

Katie finished off her drink and set it back on the table with a thud, “You would think after more than 200,000 years of menstruation we would know how to fix cramps, but nope, the medical field still has no friggin clue how to deal with them. The general consensus is to throw an anti- inflammatory, a heating pad or a shit-ton load of chocolate at it and pray, but otherwise sucks to suck.”

Sunny looked between the group of them, “Cramps? Your insides falling out…er ... are you guys ok?”

The group turned to look at her with incredulous looks on their faces, “You aren't serious?” Jackie asked.

Sunny stared at her blankly.

“You guys don’t have cramps, periods on your planet…like really?”

“Explain?”

Sunny wasn't entirely sure that she appreciated the explanation once it was over and shook her head vigorously, “EWWW no…. no,” she shivered. Battle sounded like a more amusing pastime.

“How does it work on your planet?” Katie wondered, the scientist in her taking over.

Sunny shifted awkwardly, “Well uh…we have a mating season. The female can become fertile twice a year. It’s during the dark season, so generally all the kits are born during or right before the bright season.”

“So, what? Do you guys just get really horny twice a year or something?”

“Er…. well no. Any time of year is fine but you are just more likely to get a kit during those times of year.”

“Uh huh, how interesting.”

Sunny didn’t exactly see how it was all that interesting. She had never been caught in this sort of conversation, oddly enough. Adam had never asked so she had never been forced to answer the question. In fact, she learned more about humans in the last ten minutes than she had learned about humans in the last year she had been aboard the ship and not all of it was great.

One of the biggest things she learned was that humans get slightly strange the more they drank.

“Ok, Ok,” CJ slurred, “Hottest guy aboard the ship, go.”

“Ramirez,” Katie responded almost immediately.

Mav snorted into her drink again, “Really….. no…. no way.”

“What, he's cute, I’d do him.”

Jackie raised her hands over her head, “I couldn’t tell you who the hottest guy on the ship is, but I CAN tell you who the hottest girl is.”

Mav didn’t bat an eye, “Well of course that would be me, like we even have to debate that subject.”

Jackie rolled her eyes and the rest of the table laughed, “Ha ha, your confidence never ceases to amaze, but you're not my type.”

Katie waved a hand, “Oh come on, I know you don't’ LIKE guys like that but you must be able to tell when one of them LOOKS nice . Come on, a shot in the dark.”

Jackie shrugged, but thought about it for a second, “Uh…. well, how about Adam, he’s good looking, right?”

The table thought about it for a moment. Mav tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, “Well I mean yeah he is, but he's also a super massive juvenile.”

CJ shrugged, “I don’t know, I think it's kind of cute.”

Katie waved a hand at all of them, “Not like it matters, because I have a couple of theories.” Sunny and the other’s looked on in interest, waiting, “I’m pretty sure he's: A into guys, B not into anyone or C a closeted extrial. There was some muttering from around the table, but Mav shook her head in disagreement.

“No, he’s too uncomfortable around women to like guys, and you can’t say he’s hiding it because he has no reason to. If he really liked guys he would be indifferent to women and awkward around men. If he wasn’t into anyone, he wouldn’t be nearly so awkward… however, I can probably get behind C.”

Sunny did not noticed the glances pointed her way

The conversation moved on to the hottest girl on the ship which sparked a furious debate despite Jackie being the only one that like girls. Turned out though that female humans had no issue discussing the perceived hotness or notness of other women. Nairobi down in engineering took the title with almost unanimous agreement.

That lead into the subject of who was the best looking DREV aboard the ship and once Sunny explained that height and carapace color were the most important outside factors mixed with fighting status, it turned into a rather entertaining debate as the humans tried to decide which Drev was the hottest while continuing to steadily drink. It finally devolved into a slurred argument between Cannon and another of their Drev members, Roc.

Sunny would have found the entire thing funny if it wasn’t also rather disturbing. Her vote was the tiebreaker which was obviously biased considering that Cannon was her brother and that was super weird, so of course Roc won the title.

The drunker they got, the worse they got, until the conversation was oscillating constantly between being mildly lewd and hilariously embarrassing stories that Sunny wouldn’t have admitted to in her wildest daydreams.

In the end, it was up to her and Mav, who also didn’t drink to get the other girls back to the shuttle. That was all before realizing that CJ was the only one who could fly the ship so they had no way of getting back on their own. In the end, they had to call for backup and a rather amused shuttle pilot showed up on scene to take the staggering party back to the ship.

Sunny wobbled onto the ship holding up two drunk women while Mav helped a third.

Together they collapsed onto some cargo containers laughing and slurring.

A shadow fell over them a moment later and Sunny looked up to find Commander Vir standing over them with a raised eyebrow, “Fun time, Ladies?”

A burst of giggling, “Yes sir,” Mav smirked.

Katie almost fell off her seat, but Vir caught her by the arm, “Alright, to bed with the lot of you.”

Kate tried to wave him off but nearly fell over once more. “Krill is going to have a fit when he sees the state of you. Come on, let’s get you to bed to sleep it off.” He glanced over at Mav, “Get the rest of them back safe.” Mav saluted and Katie giggled drunkenly, but managed to make it to her feet and together they wandered off towards the medical bay where the medical staff usually slept.

Sunny also helped Mav get the other two to their quarters before retiring to her own room exhausted, but happy.

It had been a good day. She determined to do it more often.

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barpurplewrites · 6 years ago

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Enjoy your trip

@a-monthly-rumbelling Non Lemon prompt - One falls on top of the other.

For some reason Gold has become Belle’s personal safety net.

-x-x-x-

Granny's Dinner.

Gold had opted to eat his breakfast in the diner this morning. The mood struck him to do so about once every two weeks, and since he had a new trade magazine arrive with the day's mail and today felt perfect for a lazy breakfast before he opened the shop.

He placed his order and claimed his favoured table by the door. The trade magazine, Modern Antiques, had an interesting article on establishing an on-line presence. Gold had a website for the shop, but he knew there was always more he could do to increase sales. He was puzzling his way through the section on something called Instagram when it happened.

In rapid succession the diner door opened, he heard a yelp of pained surprise, and he found himself with a lap full of librarian. Instinct had moved his hands to catch her, and it only took three seconds for him to realize that while one hand was respectable on her waist, the other had was on her bottom. He snatched both away as if he had been burned.

“Wow, thanks for the save Mr Gold.”

Belle was still sitting in his lap. He offered her a hand to set her on her feet again. Once his brain was no longer occupied with the warm, soft weight of Belle in his lap his ability to speak returned.

“Tis no matter, dearie. Might I suggest lower heels?”

She laughed, actually laughed at what he had meant to be a snide comment. Incredible.

“But if I wore lower heels I'd become a trip hazard for other people.”

He had no reply to that, even with her ridiculous heels she was even shorter than him, many of the elementary school children were already taller than her. She gave him a sunny smile and skipped away to the counter. Gold watched her until his view was obstructed by Granny bringing him his breakfast. He nodded his thanks and dug in. He put the strange start to his day out of his mind and returned to the mysteries of Instagram. It made a little more sense with the help of coffee and bacon.

Corner of Cherry and Main.

Gold had forgotten it was Spring Break. At least he had until the streets were filled with groups of kids. How had he missed the explosion of chocolate eggs, bunnies and chicks in the windows of every store but his? Easter always managed to sneak up on him, he wasn't sure how but it did. This year he blamed the sudden increase in temperature. The weather had opted to skip the usual spring showers and set the sun to a gentle broil. He was going to have to switch to his lighter-weight suits sooner rather than later. He was considering switching his wardrobe over this evening as he rounded the corner from Main Street into Cherry lane.

The cheerful noise of children had been a background noise all day, so he didn't pay them any mind. The sudden frantic ringing of bells and whoosh of air as half a dozen shouting kids whizzed by him on their bikes paled a little as he stumbled back into the wall of Tink's Toys with an armful of librarian.

“Ooff. Sorry Mr Gold. The kids are crazy today.”

He'd dropped his cane and grabbed her again. And his damn hand had found it's way to her bottom again. He was going to have to have serious words with his left hand, it was clearly trying to get him slapped.

Belle pushed herself away from him and he took a deep breath, which promptly caught in his throat as she crouched down in front of him. His left hand twitched and tried to reach for her hair. What the hell? Never mind serious words, he was going to cut the damn hand off, better safe than sorry.

He didn't have time to pull his wayward hand back to his side before Belle glance up.

“Oh thank you.”

She took his hand and rose to her feet. She was holding his cane, that was what she had bent down for. He took it with muttered thanks.

“I appear to be making a habit of landing on you, Mr Gold.”

He managed a small laugh; “Ah but this time the fault lies with the bicycling hoard.”

Belle giggled; “Oh Henry and his friends will love being called that. They're all into knights and dragons at the moment.

“They need some lessons on chivalry towards other road users.”

“I'll have a word with them in the library this afternoon. See you later Mr Gold.”

He returned her cheery wave and stood for a long moment after she had disappeared around the corner trying to remember what he was doing. Ah yes, going home to change into a lighter-weight suit. It was much warmer today than he had thought.

The Beach

Gold enjoyed the beach of an evening. It was cooler, less crowded, and the chances of him getting sunburn were zero. Perfect. He found himself a convenient outcrop of rock and sat down to watch the waves. A little way along the sand a group of people were tossing a Frisbee back and forth, he recognized their voices, but that wasn't much of a surprise, it was still a bit early in the season for tourists. He paid them no mind, happy to sit and let the evening breeze ruffle his hair and blow the cobwebs of the day away.

“Go long Belle!”

The shout from Ruby made him turn his head towards the Frisbee game. The moment he saw Belle running backwards towards him he just knew what was going to happen. Unlike the other time he had a split second to brace himself be fore she stumbled and fell into his lap.

The Frisbee sailed to a halt a few feet to his right. Belle brushed her hair out of her face and gave him a grin.

“We meet again, Miss French.”

“Yeah, sorry, Rubes was a bit enthusiastic with that throw.”

At least his damned randy left hand was behaving itself this time. It had placed itself demurely on Belle's back, just between her shoulder blades right were the crochet of her beach-cover-up stopped and her warm bare skin started. Damnation! With a gentle nudge he encouraged Belle back to her feet. She bounced up to her feet. With a graceful kick she managed to catch the Frisbee with her bare toes to flick it into her hand. She'd painted her toenails a warm gold.

“Come on Belle!”

She shot him one of those ever-ready sunny smiles of hers and scampered back to her friends.

“Catch you later Belle,” he called after her.

She turned as she ran and called back, “Not if I catch you first, Gold.”

He sat smiling at the sea, rubbing the fingers of his left hand with his thumb and wondering if she really meant that.

The Pawnshop

Gold had spent a lot of time over the past few days thinking about Belle French. Her golden toenails, her sunny smiles, her playful banter, and her habit of falling into his arms. Could he call that a habit? As far as he could tell there was no planning behind her tumbles. He'd not noticed her to be a particularly clumsy person. She'd not once given him the horrified look he'd expect from anyone else if they suddenly found themselves in his lap. Nor had she cursed him out for his inability to control his left hand. He frowned at the offending appendage as he positioned the ladder.

“Downright sinister the way you keep reaching for her.”

He laughed silently and wondered if Belle would like the wordplay of that thought. Perhaps next time she fell into his arms he would ask her for coffee, and then they could talk, and see if … if what? The sensible part of his mind said to see if they could be friends. The part of his mind that was clearly in control of his left hand said to see if they could be friends and lovers.

“Give you credit Lefty, you do aim high.”

He squared the ladder up and made sure he had placed the spare bulbs in the handy little pouch that sat over the top handle. Why did the bulbs always blow when Dove was away? Dove didn't need the ruddy ladder to reach the chandelier, that man must have spent his formative years sleeping in a green house with his feet in compost. Gold took a deep breath and started up the ladder. This was always a bit of a production for him, but long years of practise meant he had it mastered now.

Until today apparently. The shop door jingled open and the ladder shook. His foot slipped transferring all of his weight onto his bad leg. He spotted Belle and tried to shout her out of the way before he toppled over. Panic caused the air around him to turn in to syrup, he felt forward into Belle's arms, and his left hand caught the back of her head just in time to cushion it from the floor as they crashed backwards.

He was only inches from her face. That little stubborn lock of hair that always refused to stay tied back was fluttering in time with his gasping breathing. He really should move, but Belle's hand was brushing his hair out of his face.

“Are you okay, Gold?”

“Yeah,” even though he knew he wasn't, his leg would be complaining merry hell once it caught up with recent events, his back would probably join in the choir of pain just for kicks, but right now Belle was caressing his face and all was right with the world.

She gave him a smile, sunny as usual, but softer, more intimate like a sunset rather than the blaze of full day.

“I told you I'd catch you.”

“That you did, now what are you going to do with me?”

“Claim my prize.”

He didn't have time to ask her what she meant before she'd raised her head just enough to close the gap between them and kiss him. It was delightful, and so of course that was the moment his leg chose to register its formal complaint about the fall.

“Aahh ow!”

Belle pulled back so fast she almost crushed his fingers which were still behind her head. With wide panicked eyes she asked; “What's wrong?”

“Fall caught up with me.”

“Okay, okay let's get you up.”

It took much careful movement, a bit of untangling, a small amount of groan muffled swearing but they made it into the back room where Gold gratefully dropped onto the cot. That left hand of his took over again and he tugged Belle into his lap. She settled carefully with a giggle.

“I believe you were claiming your prize?”

“Hum, yes I was, wasn't I?”

Over the next half hour or so Gold decided that Belle's kisses were better than his pain killers, and maybe he should let his left hand lead the way more often.

#a monthly rumbelling #rumbelle #it's so fluffly

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storykravting · 5 years ago

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Plenty Little Secrets

All of the money I earn, I put in a small pouch that I keep under the floor of my room. The pouch is small because it doesn’t have much to hold. It’s under the floor because I’m afraid Dad will find it.

Don’t get me wrong, my dad is a good parent. Unlike the father figures of so many of my friends’ accounts, he never hits me when I’ve been disobedient. He never yells when I skip church in favor of going to work. He doesn’t even try to stop me from making dangerous decisions that no protective parent would ever allow their child to do; he might know, but he’s never given me more than a quick glance. What I like most about him is that he lets me do what I want, and not once has he attempted to throw chains over me to stop me from going out, working a job, and living more like an adult than a teenager.

Nonetheless, there are some things you keep to yourself. Terrible past relationships, moments of weakness, desires you could never admit to having. Sometimes money is on the list too.

Sunday evening, I come home and drop my keys in front of the door. After trying my car keys and wondering why the knob wasn’t budging, I’m too exhausted to make my life easier by holding my keys correctly, so it’s with some awkward angling that I manage to align key and keyhole and turn the lock.

All the lights are off except for the kitchen, where I see my toned but scruffy father sizzling burgers in a pan.

“Hey Ally. Mom’s burgers tonight,” he says with a smile. I smile back at our little inside joke.

“Cool. Thanks Dad.”

Mom’s burgers aren’t made by Mom but by Dad using Mom’s recipe. But he makes them so well that she might as well have been around to make dinner. The only way they’re distinguishable is the label on the package of ground beef in the trash: regular, not lean. More fat and less meat for less money.

I shrug off my coat and step on my heels to get out of my work boots. Past the wall that separates the kitchen from the den is our narrow hallway and my room, black until I flick a switch that makes the lights flicker on. While I take off my bag and empty my pockets of rubbish among other things, my thoughts are obsessed with sprawling out on the bed and stretching my sleepy limbs.

In the dining room, I hear dishes clatter as Dad sets the table. No silverware; burgers don’t require forks and knives. We have an unusual amount of assorted silverware, a ton of mismatched forks and random chopsticks, but none of it is needed tonight.

I’m just about to go out and sit down for dinner when I remember my monthly pay stashed at the bottom of my bag. Listening carefully, I wait until I hear my dad pull out a chair and sit down at the table to read on his phone the way he always did when he waits for me to come to the table. Then I close my door as if I were changing, unzip my bag, and pull out a small, unmarked manila envelope.

With my X-Acto knife, I slit open the sealed part of the envelope and open it the same way animal handlers hold a snake. I pull out the contents with two fingers. As usual, there are a lot of bills, mostly fifties and twenties and some hundreds. I count it all to be sure my entire pay is here—all $1100 of it.

When I’m sure, I put everything back in the envelope and kneel down in front of my stubby white dresser. One of the boards in the floor lifts up with my nails and a little bit of force. As usual, I have to lower my shoulder and put a hand on the ground so I can reach under the floor with my other arm. The dirt is damp, but it doesn’t bother me too much because I always wash my hands before dinner.

I somewhat remember where the pouch is, but before I find it my hand brushes against something fuzzy and wiry, like a pipe cleaner. As soon as I touch it, it twitches, and I instinctively swat at it. Suddenly a sharp pain shoots through my hand, as if something bit me. Swearing, I withdraw my arm as fast as I can. I was past elbow depth trying to find my money pouch. My hand feels heavier than usual, and I can feel the skin around the source of my pain being pulled. When my hand emerges from the darkness under the floor, I see dangling from it by glossy, black fangs a tarantula, legs thrashing as it hangs from the fleshy part of my hand by its fangs, twisting its abdomen about rapidly.

I’ve seen big spiders before, and I knew the local species weren’t deathly venomous, but having a writhing arachnid hanging from my hand sent a pulse of repulsion and fear through me. I scream and shake my hand side to side trying to dislodge it, and it falls close to my feet. I scramble back as far as I possibly can. It flails for a few seconds before it finds its footing and rears up on its back legs, stridulating with the sides of its chelicerae. Like a mantis’ arms, its forelegs wave in the air as it strafes uneasily, probably thinking I planned to eat it.

Wood scrapes the floor out in the dining room, and next my dad is at the door. In a second he’s grabbed the decorative bowl I made at school and flipped it down over the spider, spilling candy and change all over the floor. It takes him one more second to slide my manila envelope under it, and he’s out of the room in an instant. I hear a door slamming, and after a half minute he comes back inside holding bowl and envelope in each hand.

“You don’t usually scream at spiders,” he says as I stand up, the side of my hand pressed into my palm. “Did you get bitten?”

I uncover the wound so we can both see. Blood runs from a vein on top of my hand. It’s easy to tell where the fangs went in. “I’ll be fine though,” I told him as I put my hand over it again. “I’ll wash it out and watch for swelling.”

He nods and hands me the envelope then starts picking up candy and quarters in the bowl. I join him until everything has been picked up. That’s when his attention shifts to the shifted board, which I had delayed to put back in place in favor of collecting peppermints.

“Did the spider come from there?” he asks, and I tell him it did. “Why’s it open anyway?”

“Nothing,” I blurt stupidly. Then, “I just noticed it was loose, and I wanted to see what was underneath. That’s it. Thanks for taking care of the spider though.”

He nods again, stands up, and reminds me that dinner’s on the table. Once he leaves the room, I exhale in relief. But as I hold the manila envelope and stand before the hole in the floor, I’m filled with a sense of caution that I didn’t have before. This time, I shine a flashlight down into the bowels of the house to go before my hand. When I finally find my small paisley pouch and store the money I won’t need for this upcoming month, it’s with wariness that I return it to its hiding spot, slightly closer to the opening in the floor out of fear.

And it’s with a sense of dread I feel guilty over even having that I replace the floor board, having counted my savings and knowing I have exactly $4950 squirreled away two feet below the foot of my bed.

I notice all the small differences without fail. The labels switch again, from regular to semi-lean, and all Dad tells me is that he read it’s a better deal since you pour out less fat and keep more of the pound of “meat” you paid for. More drinks show up in the fridge—orange juice, which I love, and soda cans of brands we both like. On Tuesday, he offers me a small glass of Sauvignon blanc even though I don’t turn 21 for one more year and two months. Sunday, some of our old pots and pans end up in the donation pile at church. New ones appear in our cabinets. A day later, he buys me a replacement watch for my old one with the beat-up strap and worn face.

He’s more smiles than frowns now though, so whatever factors may have combined to cause this parade of tiny changes in our lives, the effects are good overall.

When I get paid the next month, I don’t do anything different that night besides check to make sure I’m not grabbing a tarantula or scorpion on accident. I add $450 of my $650 pay to my savings and put the pouch back. $450 plus $4830 equals $5280; it doesn’t quite add up, I know that much, but for an unquantifiable reason I don’t look for a new place to keep my money. After all, I don’t think it’s being blown on booze and dice. If it means we can eat better, I’m okay with a little money disappearing in exchange for things I’ve gotten used to over the years.

A lot of things don’t add up around here, anyway. In this house, we all have our little secrets, but that’s just how things are.

#short story

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elfnerdherder · 7 years ago

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Where the Wicked Walk: Ch. 22

[Support My Work] [Read on Ao3]

Chapter 22: The Pit and the Pendulum

Will paced the floors of Dr. Lecter’s office with a frightful vengeance.

Dr. Lecter never questioned his stress tics, as busy and fidgety as they were. When agitated, he had a habit of chewing on his lips and cheeks so hard they bled. When he was afraid, he was either aggressive, or he paced to release the tension. Hands that needed to keep busy couldn’t in an office like Lecter’s, so they tapped on his hips. Will appreciated that no matter how he tried to gain control of his emotions, Dr. Lecter merely observed and never passed judgement.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after a painful five minutes of watching Will pace from the safety of his chair.

Will stopped his pacing and glared at the bookcase to the side that housed Chaucer and Thorough. “I…I saw someone’s eyes,” he admitted, and God, that made it true. He rubbed at his eyes, like he could scrub away the potential imprint they’d made on him. “I’m so careful about it, but I saw theirs. I saw them.”

“We’ve only briefly spoken about your aversion to eye contact, but this seems to stem towards something more than just ‘eyes are distracting,” Dr. Lecter noted.

“What if we become soulmates? What if they’re stuck with me? What if I…I can’t…” He paused and fumed at a painting on the wall, like it was to blame for his misfortune. He wanted to rip it apart, feel the strips of threads from the canvas grate against his fingertips.

“Your word choice is astounding, Will. ‘What if they’re stuck with me?’”

“Soulmates take away your choice, Dr. Lecter,” Will said impatiently. He turned away from the bookcase and painting so that he could better emphasize his words. “I’m only about a year into schooling, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that. The fact that your own body takes away your choice, the chemicals in your mind calming you in their presence; whether you want to or not, every aspect of yourself is suddenly drawn to them.”

“That sounds a lot like general attraction.”

“General attraction doesn’t give you anxiety or genuine pain when you’re too far apart,” Will snapped. “It doesn’t make you feel their pain like it was your own, consume you to the point that at the first physical connection after waking, you all but fuck one another to try and get the urges in your skin to stop.”

“Were your parents soulmates, Will?” Hannibal asked.

Will jerked back as though he’d been struck, and he stared at Hannibal with a genuine expression of horror.

“It’s not an unfair question,” he added, tracking Will’s slightest movements.

“…It’s not,” Will agreed. He fumbled with words that lodged in his throat, and he coughed to dispel the pressure. “…They were.”

“You don’t talk about your mother. We’ve talked about your father, but not your mother.”

“My father’s dead,” Will said, and he’d paid monthly therapy bills for about a year in order to say that without having some sort of anxiety attack or dissociative episode attached to the fact. “My mother…might as well be.”

“She’s not in the picture?”

“She hasn’t been since I was a kid.”

“What do you remember of her?”

Will began pacing again.

“…Questions about mom? I’m feeling…a little cliché,” he said to the vase near the wall. Dr. Lecter didn’t entertain a reply. He waited, as he always did while Will wrestled with the indecision of whether or not to share. He was a patient man. Will sometimes felt guilty that he made him wait so damn much. “…I’d lay on the chaise and cry a bit if I could sit still,” he tacked on needlessly.

“You can do as you like, as you know,” Hannibal replied, amused. “This is your hour, Will.”

“I don’t remember much.” He sat after a long, delayed silence. “I…remember that we had the same hair. Her hair, his eyes, her skin tone, his chin. I was comprised of parts from the two of them equally.

“She had one blue eye, one hazel. When she wore certain colors, they almost looked the same. She left a lot, and I remember dad staring out of the window. He said she’d come back. Then she would, and he’d smile again. Then one time, she didn’t.”

“Where would she go?”

“Not too far, since he wasn’t in pain. I didn’t realize distance was a correlation until one day he was popping pain killers to try and make it stop. Then he got a prescription from the doctor so that the distance was numbed. Then when we ran out of money and had to move, he just found a way to get used to it.”

“So your earliest memory regarding soulmates was the many ways in which it could go wrong,” Hannibal observed kindly.

Will nodded as he pivoted and crossed the room once more; the steady thudding of his shoes on the floor was cathartic, calming. “Yes.”

“You watched your father for years afterwards, seeing nothing but his pain and his resilience.”

“Yes.”

“So it stems closer to you fearing the reality of not being entirely in control,” Dr. lecter noted. In the quiet of the office, the only other noise was the clock ticking. It beat with the pulse just behind Will’s eye, and he turned from his pacing to stare at Hannibal with something akin to shame.

“…My perceptions of people are already skewed due to…you know,” Will said. His shoulder twitched into a shrug.

“Your empathy disorder.”

“Yes.” He sighed, raking fingers through his hair. “ The idea of…connecting so much with someone that even as I take on aspects of who they are, they become the earth beneath my feet, the air I breathe…doesn’t that terrify you, Dr. Lecter? That simply by existing, they…change you?”

“Yes,” Hannibal agreed. “You and I are just alike. We don’t enjoy the prospect of someone having the sort of effect on us that would change the essence of who we are.”

“You don’t…bleed into people the way that I do,” Will said, staring at him. He focused on the spot just below one eye, where the cheekbone gave him the appearance of something not altogether human. “I have a hard time believing that anyone could change you.”

“Some people, under the right elements.” He smiled, all canines. “I’ve certainly adapted to the needs of my patients.”

Will frowned. “Did you have to adapt your therapy style to me?”

“Would you want to know if I did?”

“Yes.”

Hannibal considered him, then nodded. “I did. I have always been able to sense a desperate need from you to be honest with yourself; however, there is a resistance you have in sharing such details that would ultimately help you. You have to stop being your own enemy.”

Will sat down and stared at him, perched just on the end of his chair. “How…did you adapt to me?”

Hannibal inched closer in his chair as well and rested his elbows on his knees. “You have a natural inclination to view the world as your enemy because of what it has the ability to do. I adapted my therapy so that you would see that out of any other place in the entire world, this was the one safe space in which you didn’t have to have your defenses up.”

“You’d do that with everyone,” Will protested.

“This is a safe place for everyone, yes,” he agreed. “But when you came to me and spoke of delusions of blood on your hands, dreams where you indulged in dark aspects of human nature, you spoke with the expectation of someone waiting for judgement.”

“I’ve been told that some of my thoughts aren’t exactly…tasteful.”

“Rather than simply assure you that your thoughts are valid, I shared my own with you, too.”

Will laughed a little, humorlessly. “Do you not share a lot of yourself, Dr. Lecter? Don’t you open up to people?”

“I’ve certainly opened up to my therapist,” Hannibal assured him. “And I’ve made a habit of opening up to you. You could refer to it as a form of quid pro quo: you’ve shared your secrets with me, so I have shared aspects of myself with you.”

“Quid pro quo,” Will repeated, and he smiled crookedly. “I’ve given aspects of myself to you, so you gave me some in turn. I think that I can work with that.”

The door didn’t lock.

That hadn’t stopped him from barring it with a dresser.

If the stitches in his side hadn’t threatened to rip, he’d have shoved the fucking bed there, too.

They hadn’t had time to remove the bloodstains from the wood, darkened as it was, but someone had thankfully gotten rid of the rug. Will stared at the spot where Matthew Brown died, and he tried to focus on his breathing.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

His blood burned, whispered with a need that urged him to go just down the stairs where he knew Lecter was waiting for him, ever-so-patiently. He dug nails into the skin of his wrist and dragged, focusing on the pain of it rather than the whisper in his ear that said that if he just let him in, everything would be alright.

He didn’t move. He couldn’t move. He wouldn’t move.

The mirror above the dresser was shattered. Shards of it lay across the floor, scattered and disorganized pieces that lay every which way. The light from the lamp bounced from piece to piece, leaping and dancing about in a dour yellow glow. His fingers drummed listlessly across the surface of one, trying to resist the urge to stab it into his eye.

What have you done to your eyes, Will? What have you done to your eyes?

It was like a drug, he knew, the need to see him. It was a drug, a desperation of two halves to become whole, to balance the chemicals that churned within him that wanted, needed to be with him, needed to quiet the storm within that ached, ached worse than anything he’d ever felt before.

He’d survived holding his father as he died. He could survive this. He could do this.

He could do this.

He looked down to the mirror shard, caught the colors of his eyes. One blue, the other maroon.

“No,” he said calmly, staring at the fractured image. “No.”

This was not the darkened halls of his mind, though, where doors opened to nightmares that he fought to contain. His ribs ached, his muscles ached, his eyes ached, and there was far too much of it that was real for this to be one of his dreams, something where he’d wake with a start in his bed, sweating but ultimately alright.

Hold on, Jack had urged him on the phone, helpless as he was to help. Just hold on.

He wrapped his hand around the oblong shape of the mirror shard and gripped tight enough to break skin. It sliced smooth through the first layer, brought beads of blood to dot along his skin. Did Lecter feel that? Could he feel it, waiting just forty feet away from him? What else could Will make him feel, now that they were irreversibly connected in a way that’d mark him forever?

“No,” he growled, and he brought the shard violently to his eye.

No.

Beverly had to work especially hard to get away from Saul.

It wasn’t so much that he was terrible to be around; in truth, he was a decent sort of person. He told cheesy jokes, he enjoyed classic rock, and he was respectful of the people around him.

If she’d found him as her soulmate under any other circumstance, Beverly Katz knew that she could be happy with him.

As she ducked under a low-hanging branch, satellite phone to her ear, she ruminated on that sour, honest truth: this was not a circumstance in which she could be happy.

“It’s bad,” she said when they connected her to her boss. “I know you wanted to wait until the rest of the followers showed up to the house, sir, but I don’t think we can.”

“And why’s that?”

She sighed and skirted around a tree, gaze leaping around the ever shifting leaves. “Because, sir, Will Graham’s eyes changed.”

Agent Hoff of the CIA let out a low, aggravated curse.

“You’re sure?”

“Saw it myself. One of the followers attacked him in the middle of the night, and Graham killed him in self-defense. Lecter swooped in, stared him down, and Graham woke up with a mismatched pair.”

Hoff let out another curse, this one particularly exotic. “What’s their next move?”

“They’re going to Crawford’s next, sir. They might postpone for a day now that Graham’s eyes have changed, though.” She paused beside a stout oak that still clung to his leaves. “Should I take out Ingram when he arrives? Saul got a call that from the transporter that he’s going to be here soon. She’s been driving him in circles because Lecter didn’t give the okay yet for him to arrive.”

“Only if it can be discreet, Katz,” Hoff said. “Can you make it look like one of the others got their hands on him?”

“There are a few teenage girls here that he may try to grab. I could make it look like a disgruntled father.”

“Discreet.”

“I’ve been discreet,” she shot back. “What do I do with Graham? Now that his eyes have changed, I’m worried that-”

“I’ve got an idea,” a woman said, dropping down from the tree.

The phone was dropped, and Katz was on the woman before she could even think to hesitate, before anything more than instinct and training could take hold. She’d been seen. She’d been heard.

She had her gun to the woman’s temple and was prepared to shoot when she recognized just who it was.

“…Are you Freddie Lounds?” she hissed.

“Are you going to shoot an innocent civilian, Agent Katz?” Lounds asked. Despite being pinned from torso to ankles, she looked remarkably calm. Rumpled and muddied, but calm.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” Beverly demanded.

“Same thing as you, I’d imagine. Saving Will Graham, finding the nest of killers –only, your face is plastered over every single TV across the nation as one of the top five wanted in conjunction with Lecter’s escape.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, Beverly clicked the safety back on with a muted snap!

“Do you understand how utterly stupid you sound right now?” Beverly wondered. “How dangerous this is?”

“Yes, the patrols out here are unfortunately thorough. I was almost found, and I had to climb that tree and hide out for a few hours. I was thinking about continuing on when I heard you getting patched over to what I assume is your boss back at your HQ.” She shifted once more and glared up at Beverly. “Can I get up, or are you going to hold a gun to me all day?”

Beverly, after a beat, stood and helped Freddie Lounds to her feet.

“Ingram should be here,” Freddie said. “They were turning onto a road when I started into the forest miles ago.”

“How did you find him?” Beverly asked. She didn’t put her gun away, but she didn’t level it at Lounds, either.

“He left his wallet in a bar, and I followed him.” She preened a bit, fixing her hair and tousling dead leaves from it. “He wasn’t the smartest. Lecter didn’t choose so well for that little venture.”

“He’s not really a follower, but he was interested in the ‘amnesty’ that Lecter offered,” Beverly replied after a beat. “His test was taking out Agent Zeller.”

“Is that how Dr. Lecter gets so many of them? He had Agent Dolarhyde track down killers out and about and welcome them to a little group therapy?”

“That’s classified,” Beverly snapped. “Least of all to a reporter.”

“Off the record,” Lounds said, and Beverly snorted. “I mean it. I’ve already got a good story going with getting Will Graham out of here alive. You let me help you, and I’ll keep you out of my articles.”

“It’s a false identity,” Beverly said with an eye roll. “Whatever you put in there about Beverly Katz, it won’t mean much to me.”

“Katz does seem like an outrageous name,” Freddie admitted.

They stared at one another, the whistling sound of wind through the trees curling about them. Dead leaves scritched and scratched along one another as they tumbled about, and the sound of a bird chirping off in the distance punctuated Beverly’s long, morose sigh. She was used to slip-ups in this particular job –years before, when she’d first infiltrated Lecter’s following, it seemed that one thing after another had become a dangerously long list of slip-ups.

“The CIA gathers intelligence,” she said at last.

“Yes.”

“When suspects to threats of terror against the government began moving towards Georgia, we took notice. I was to investigate and report back.”

“Did you think it was a terrorist threat?”

“We weren’t sure what to think.” Beverly put the gun away and grabbed the phone from a pile of leaves and twigs, closing it. Her boss would have hung up, waiting for another call that everything was clear. She had about ten minutes before he got nervous. “I got here, and although it wasn’t a threat to the government, this is a threat to national security. Lecter had Dolarhyde amassing a cult of killers from all over –not just the US. He’s got a few wanted men from the UK, some from Mexico, three from Canada. Dolarhyde promised them a safe space where the government couldn’t reach them, and as far as we’re concerned, it’s true. Common cell phones are no good out here, this place isn’t on any map, and when they had a guy at the Sherriff’s department, the stretch of road leading here was patrolled by him and him alone.”

“Why haven’t you done anything yet?”

“There were about thirty more that are supposed to meet here within a day or so, after the heat lessened. He wanted to strike then.”

“Are they the thirty or so running around killing Will Graham’s?”

“Yes.”

“And Will Graham’s eyes?” Freddie prompted. “I heard you say that his eyes changed?”

Beverly gave her a nasty, suspicious look.

“…Off the record.”

“That doesn’t matter. No, no,” she continued, lifting a hand when Lounds opened her mouth. “The situation is such that we need to pull him. It’s escalating.”

“Did your boss tell you that?”

“No, but I can draw my own conclusions. If you’re out here, Lounds, then I need you to get Graham out of here.”

“You’re not going to do it?” Freddie Lounds asked.

“I have my own orders, but that doesn’t mean you can’t help.” Orders. Orders like Saul, only Saul hadn’t originally been part of the plan. Beverly hadn’t planned for Saul, but now she had him and it made the years taste bitter. She felt his curiosity for her whereabouts like a warm jacket. Orders like Graham, only becoming remarkably good friends with Graham hadn’t been part of the plan; the look on his face when he realized she was part of Lecter’s clan had been a punch to the gut whose bruise hadn’t healed yet.

Orders like killing any witnesses, only here was one stupid reporter prepared to get her big break –if she could live to tell about it.

“Alright, Katz, what’s the plan? How are we getting Graham out of here?” Freddie asked. She had the nose of a journalist, and Katz hated it. She hated how the news spun things, how they fought and griped and pissed and moaned to get a story –whether accurate or not –and she hated people like Lounds most of all because here she was, a civilian in a room with a bomb about to go off, and rather than trying to protect her, Beverly was most certainly going to toss her to the den of wolves.

If it got Will out safely, though…

“Alright,” she said, and she planted her hands on her hips. “Alright, this is what we’re going to do.”

Jack stood in Zeller’s hospital room. He wasn’t being of much use, in truth. He stood around the sea of agents, doctors, and security guards whose answers all culminated into one large, horrifying truth:

No one knew where Zeller was.

Dear Agent Jack Crawford,

It’s unfortunate that someone else had to bring this letter to you in exchange for Agent Zeller, but as you’re well aware, I’m quite busy at the moment.

There are not many people in this world that you have a connection to. When I was planning and considering my actions, each step carefully laid out and analyzed, I spent a significant amount of time ruminating on who it is that you tend to spend your time with. Connections fostered through personal experiences and the sharing of like ideas is what brings people together, but imagine my surprise when I realized that you haven’t many people at all.

There is, first and foremost, your wife. There is your brother, but you are estranged at best. There is Agent Jimmy Price, Agent Zeller, Agent Bowman, and Agent Dolarhyde –that betrayal must have been difficult, I’m sure. Surprisingly, the most intense and painful connection for you is none other than Will Graham, whom I have here at my convenience for awhile yet.

Agent Dolarhyde works for me. Agent Bowman is deceased, and Will Graham is missing. With Agent Zeller now missing and gravely injured, I wonder at how you’ll tighten your grip on Agent Price. Your wife, to my understanding, is with a select group of people that have her location a secret, even to you. With only one person that holds the knowledge of her coordinates, imagine my surprise, once again, as the intel came to me that it was Agent Zeller who not only knew her security detail, but also her wherabouts?

Soon enough, you will have nothing left, Agent Crawford. We often spoke of clock hands, the second hand consistently moving time forward without our consent. How small it is compared to the rest of the clock, but how instrumental it is at fostering change and eking away what little you have. Soon enough, there will only be you and me, and what a delightful thought that is.

Do get some rest. My sources say that you are looking rather unwell.

-Dr. Hannibal Lecter

He was rereading it a fourth time when Starling snatched it out of his hands and slipped it into a small Ziplock baggy marked ‘evidence’.

“I’m not done with that,” he snapped.

“I’m done watching you with that, sir,” Starling replied, and she handed it off to another grunt.

She wasn’t conventionally pretty, but the sort of pretty that lingered and left imprints on the eyes. As they glared at one another, two starving dogs eyeing a piece of meat, it was surprisingly Crawford that was the first to relax his stance and look away, blinking her fierce glare from his retinas.

“I wasn’t aware that Zeller knew where they’d relocated my wife,” he said bitterly.

Starling hummed quietly and looked over to the bed that was neatly made, nary a hair follicle in sight that didn’t belong to someone in the room presently. In profile, her nose was sharp and a deep divot carved a shadow underneath her eye –lack of sleep. Crawford probably had one much like it.

“Someone had to know. I don’t know, Price doesn’t know; if Zeller’s lucky, he dies from his injuries before he gets to wherever they’re taking him.”

It was a dark sort of statement to make, but Jack took it in stride –it was the truth, no matter how ugly. He couldn’t quite imagine what Hannibal Lecter would do to him to get that information, but past exploits of the Chesapeake Ripper could give him some form of clarity.

He hadn’t quite been able to forget what it’d been like to stare at flowers spilling out of the corpse of a man woven into a tree. In his dreams, he imagined himself woven into those branches, his woes caressed with petals that soothed, even as he died. Zeller was going to have a fate much like it if they didn’t get their asses in gear.

“Still think that Price is not compromised?” he asked. “He purposefully mentions him as one of the few left.”

Starling shifted her weight and planted her hands on her hips. “You can’t blame Lecter for your circle of loved ones being so small, Jack,” she said quietly. “You’re the kind of man that doesn’t let people in. It’d be easy to pick out those that he could use to jab at you.”

“Will Graham doesn’t let anyone in, either,” Jack said heavily.

“All the better for him –if he’s a steel wall, Lecter doesn’t have a chance of trying to change him.”

A special thanks to my Patrons: @sylarana @starlit-catastrophe @frostyleegraham @frostylicker @evertonem Laura G, Duhaunt6, @matildaparacosm, Superlurk, and Cecily! You guys are absolutely amazing <3

#LiaS scribbles #where the wicked walk #hannigram #hannibal x will graham #someone help will graham #the following au #jack crawford #clarise starling #beverly katz #soulmate au #hannibal soulmate au

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cohenjulia1992 · 4 years ago

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wildroseofarran · 7 years ago

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Sorely Needed Comfort || Luke & Q

Q: *Q nuzzles Luke. Mm, yes.*

Luke: -Luke clings to him-

Q: *Oh yes that's what he wants. He kisses that face.* "Hey, gorgeous."

Luke: -Luke nuzzles into the kisses, giving Q a teeny smile- "Hey yourself."

Q: Another kiss, slow and deliberate. He wanted to linger for as long as possible on those lips.

"What would you say to seeing a movie with me? Hmm? Or if you want we can pay-per-view here and I'll make popcorn."

Luke: Luke melted in Q's arms. The kiss was a welcome comfort, and it was returned with the same lingering gentleness with which it was given. He'd needed that so badly.

"Pay-per-view, so we can cuddle."

Q: "You got it, baby. Go pick something out. What do you want to drink?" This might as well have been Q's house, the way he tried to play host and put Luke at ease.

Luke: Luke was just fine letting Q play host. It felt almost natural at his point, and it did put him at ease, just like everything else Q did.

"Sweet tea," he said, sinking onto the couch and flicking through the On Demand menu. "What genre are you in the mood for?"

Q: "You know what I like." Creature features and 80s flicks, of course, but this was pay-per-view. "What's new that you haven't seen? IT? Atomic Blonde?" Sweet tea and buttered popcorn with black pepper.

Luke: "I wanted to go see IT when it opened but the theatre was completely sold out and I didn't wanna schlep to Raleigh." He scrolled some more. "There's Back to the Future, Alien, aaaand....Die Hard."

Q: "Alien, then. We'll go see IT together when the theater isn't so chaotic." When he returned, it was with snackage and a kiss. "If you want me, you know."

Luke: "Alien it is." Luke pulled up the movie, accepting both the snack and the kiss with a smile. "Of course I do."

He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and patted the spot next to him.

Q: His designated place was taken with one more kiss. Fingers remained on Luke's chin.

"There's one thing I want to talk to you about tonight, baby, about our arrangement. Do you want to talk about it now or later?"

Luke: Luke was immediately filled with dread. If his family was anything to go by, 'we need to talk' was almost never a positive thing.

"Now." Might as well get it over with. "Is something wrong?"

Q: "Oh, no," he chuckled. He moved his fingers from Luke's chin to his hair, combing it back. "I want to start you on...a monthly sum, not per visit. Something less on your wallet."

Luke: Luke visibly relaxed, slumping against Q in pure relief. "That's fine. That's just fine, just tell me how much."

Q: "What would you say to... fifty dollars?" Each session ranged from a hundred and fifty to two hundred plus, depending on the reason and the length. Q had considered this new contract for Luke and Luke alone. It was thanks to Margot that he was bringing this up in the first place.

Luke: He blinked. "Fifty total? For a whole month? That hardly seems fair to you."

Q: "Hardly seems fair that I charged you so much when you lost someone you love."

Luke: "It was worth all the comfort and support you gave me," he said softly, nuzzling against Q. This man was the only source of it these days.

"Are you sure you're comfortable with fifty?"

Q: "Of course I am. I've thought about this for a while now." Another gentle kiss. "Do you want anything else?"

Luke: "Okay," Luke said with a nod. "Fifty a month it is." If Q was comfortable, then he was comfortable.

All those perfect kisses were reducing him to a puddle, and still he wanted more. "Just you."

Q: "Such a romantic he is," he teased, pulling the lawyer closer. He was a boost to his ego and unlike so many clients, a joy to be around be it crying or laughing or enraged.

"This - Now this movie is flawless. Fight me."

Luke: "He tries. Not always successful though." He snuggled against Q, draping the blanket over them before finally turning his attention to the movie.

He chuckled. "I would but I agree. My brother had a crush on Ripley for the longest time."

Q: "So, is everyone in your family - minus your parents - gay or something?"

Luke: "Pete's technically bi but he hasn't dated a woman since college. Stella's straight. Jury's still out on my nephew."

Q: "Hmm." A noise for nothing particular. He was feeling impish. His thoughts were soon made evident during the face-hugger scene, sliding his tongue over Luke's ear.

Luke: The face Luke had been making at the screen was quickly replaced by a smile, and soon Q had an armful of squirmy lawyer.

Q: The next hum was a chuckle. "What's the matter, babe?"

Luke: "I'm ticklish there."

Q: "Where, here?" He did it again, sliding his hand underneath Luke's shirt.

Luke: Luke squirmed again, burrowing against Q in his effort to stifle a giggle.

Q: "Alright, alright. I'm sorry. I won't -" use this information to ruin your life with tickles and a thousand kisses!

Luke: "Ahhhhh!" Luke dissolved into laughter, simultaneously trying to get away from the tickles and toward all the kisses in a venture that had the blanket falling to the floor.

Q: The goal was to be dominating on top, sucking a hickey onto Luke's supple skin. Whether this was achieved didn't matter as much as making him smile. He needed it. More than sexual release his happiness was where the money was going.

Luke: Q had achieved one goal and was well on his way to potentially achieving the other. This was the most carefree and relaxed Luke had been in days and it was all thanks to the beautiful man on the couch with him.

"Mercy!" he laughed breathlessly.

Q: "Mercy will come after I've claimed you," he grinned. "Your mark isn't ready yet."

Luke: The mark might not have been but other parts Luke definitely were, which only made him squirm that much more in Q's hold as he looked for relief.

Q: Sucking on skin, Q reached between Luke's legs as though to offer his assistance, but it was a cruel trick. There wasn't enough pressure, he seemed to be evading any upward thrust Luke attempted.

Luke: Luke gave a frustrated little whine, redoubling his efforts. "Q....please..."

Q: "Do you want this," press, "inside me?"

Luke: "Either way just pleeeease...."

Q: "No, baby. That's not what's happening tonight. I want you to take control, see how it feels. I've claimed you, now you claim me."

Luke: That had Luke pausing. Blinking. "You want me...?"

Q: "Of course I want you," he laughed.

Luke: Luke studied Q for a moment before pulling him into a kiss.

Q: His pseudo lover complied, pressing his hip into Luke to prove his statement of desire.

Luke: He wrapped himself around Q in response, deepening their kiss as his hands slipped underneath Q's shirt and began exploring his skin.

Q: His instinct would have been to undress and ravish, but this was meant to be Luke's control. Instead, his hand remained underneath Luke's shirt, tweaking his nipple, massaging his chest.

Luke: Luke moaned softly, shifting so he and Q were pressed closer together. "We should go upstairs," he whispered, kissing Q's jaw. "Don't have what we need down here."

Q: "I suppose we should, but you're so comfortable," he chuckled. "Give me your tongue and I'll think about it."

Luke: "Right back at you," Luke said with a grin, nuzzling in and doing as Q asked.

Q: Softly, his tongue was bitten and sucked, taking what he wanted until his aching member would no longer allow such an egregious delay.

"Ready?"

Luke: More soft moans poured out of Luke as he was lovingly devoured. His hips searched desperately for friction as he felt himself grow harder in his jeans, more than ready for some relief by the time Q asked his question.

Luke nodded. "I'm ready."

Q: Ready, then. Q would hold Luke's hand as they headed upstairs. His mouth was quiet, but his hungry eyes were loud and clear.

Luke: Luke squeezed Q's hand, still a little....floored by the fact that Q wanted him and was trusting him enough to let him take control. Hell, the fact that Q wanted him at all, paid or not, still constantly amazed him. Sad and probably pathetic as it was, he'd gotten used to not feeling wanted.

He led Q into his bedroom and onto the bed, resuming his kisses and exploration the moment they were horizontal.

Q: The moment he was placed onto the bed, Q was grinning like an idiot. Happy sex, he imagined, was the best route for Luke. Something with laughter and comfort and gentleness. He was going off on intuition again, and given his client, his lover returning to his mouth, this seemed to be the correct course of action. Something better than pride filled his chest; he was relieved. He liked Luke B. Graham.

Luke: As usual, Q's intuition was right on the money. And that ability to anticipate Luke's needs and fulfill them so thoroughly was one of the most comforting things about this beautiful man. There was nothing better than getting affection exactly when and how you needed it most.

Moving carefully and deliberately, Luke began to slip Q's shirt up and off, making sure to touch and kiss every inch of exposed skin.

Q: With a soft chuckle, Q raised his arms overhead and wrapped them around Luke's neck when finished. Submissive but confident. After a few kisses, the same treatment was given to his client.

Luke: Luke gave a content little hum, nuzzling against Q and reveling in the feeling of all that warm skin. "You're like a teddy bear," he said softly, smiling at the kisses and returning as many as he could while turning his attention to Q's jeans. "A giant sexy teddy bear who cuddles back."

Q: "A giant sexy teddy bear. I don't think I've ever been called that before in my life. That belongs to you, baby."

His hip raised, giving Luke room to remove whatever he wanted.

Luke: "Then the people who've been with you haven't been paying attention because you are." Q was given another nuzzle and kiss for good measure.

Q's jeans and underwear were removed and tossed in an arbitrary direction, followed by Luke's clothes. Once they were both completely bare, Luke set about learning and mapping his pretend boyfriend's body with careful, loving hands.

Q: Once the clothes were removed, Q laid back and stretched, a deliberate move to show off what Luke was determined to explore.

"Your hands are warm," he smiled. "Kiss me."

Luke: Luke bit his lip as he took in the sight of Q laid out before him, wondering just what he'd done to get so lucky.

"Always are," he murmured with a smile, leaning down to kiss Q.

Q: Q tried to keep his mind occupied with Luke. He was a handsome, gentle man and he deserved recognition and affection. Still, there was a part of him that wondered, being Sunday, if Tane was thinking about his appointment, wondered if he was jealous.

Softly, he nipped the flesh of Luke's lip.

"Shit, sorry, baby."

Luke: He chuckled softly. "It's all right, sugar." Q was given a forgiving kiss before Luke pulled away just long enough to grab lube and a condom from his bedside drawer.

Q might have given him control, but to Luke control always, always came with a great deal of care. He never wanted Q to have an unpleasant experience with him.

Q: While Luke prepared himself, Q returned all thoughts where they needed to be. Many apologetic kisses of his own littered his lover's chest, tongue played with his nipple. What had come over him he would dwell on later.

Luke: Luke all but purred, temporarily forgetting any preparation and taking the time to enjoy those kisses and that wickedly talented tongue.

His hand snaked down to Q's groin in response, gently squeezing and fondling his erection, teasing him.

Q: The touch sent Q back on his elbows, knees raised in eagerness. "Ahn, fuck." It seemed timid in nature, but for Luke, someone he'd suspected to be submissive since day one, it was brave.

Luke: That sound sent a pang of lust straight to Luke's belly; he wanted more.

He squeezed Q again, a little more firmly this time, letting his free hand and his lips wander over Q's chest and abdomen, learning which spots were the most sensitive and exploiting them.

Q: Touches to his stomach were enjoyed, but attention to his chest was what sank Q back into the sheets. A tear of lust dripped from his cock, smeared by Luke's hand.

"You like torturing me," he smiled. This level of torment was fine. It was safe and benign and felt very Luke. Better than a handful of clients he could think of.

Luke: Found it, Luke thought to himself, lavishing Q's chest and nipples with as much affection as he possibly could and basking in whatever response he received in return.

He chuckled softly. "It's the nice kind," he whispered, shifting so he could kiss Q's lips. "Only the nice kind."

Q: Q was being reduced to a panting writhing mess with his head above water with forced even breathing. The kisses rescued him from caving in, from moaning so loud he would embarrass himself. This wasn't the same man in an appointment with Ms. Lincoln, Davis, or Mr. Thatcher. As unique as each relationship was, they were forgotten when in the arms of another. Save for Tane Lukela. He still didn't understand that. No, he subconsciously refused to.

"Such a nice boy," he teased nuzzling nose-to-nose. "Show me your wicked side."

Luke: "Nice and clean-cut to boot," said Luke, his answering smile lighting up his whole face. Q was given more kisses and more strategically placed nips before Luke reached for the bottle of lube.

After coating his fingers he teased at Q's entrance, movements gentle and unhurried. He was aching for this man in every sense of the phrase but he wouldn't rush this and risk hurting him. He'd go slowly, opening him up with all the loving care he showed Luke every time they were together.

Q: Q focused on the hand between his legs fingers trapped in his curls, having lost his headband somewhere during the night. His body was beautiful and he knew this, but he also knew the reality of his profession. He knew Luke would feel the experience in his tightness, in his willingness to relax and allow him entry. He'd never lied, never masked this truth, but with the roles reversed, was Luke still enamored?

He forced himself to look up, to gauge his reaction.

"I'm ready."

Luke: Q's profession had been what had brought him to Luke in the first place, and for that Luke was grateful for it. The obvious experience did nothing to deter him or alter his feelings; he still lavished Q with affection, still treated him gently, and when Q was ready, still kissed him with the same passion and tenderness as always.

He only pulled away from those lips long enough to sheath himself, easing inside with a soft groan that was all pleasure and relief.

Q: When those lips departed, Q attempted a chase until he felt the beginnings of pressure, sending him back into the sheets once more. That sensation in his stomach was familiar, the rollercoaster of butterflies.

He missed Tane's mouth between his legs.

Luke was pulled closer, be damned if he filled him completely and suddenly. He needed that mouth, his tongue, his noises.

Luke: Luke's half-strangled moan got caught in his throat as Q pulled him close, the surprise of the sudden rush of pleasure tempered by the kiss before it too tapered off.

Now that he was surrounded by delicious heat his hips had started to move of their own free will, moving in an out of Q in long, drawn out thrusts as Luke devoured and was devoured by the man underneath him. The noises Q craved followed soon after.

Q: Q found Luke to be just the right size. Not so large as to make him squirm, not too small as to feel nothing significant. What made him so goddamn enjoyable wasn't really his cock; his mouth was insatiable and perfect. Their lips were imperfect together, one fuller, one thin and curved like the most beautiful cursive. Still, the passion was unmistakable. He could spend all night trapped in liplock and would ask for more.

Luke: Even if Q wasn't squirming, Luke certainly was, and in the best way possible. It had been a long time since he'd been in this position and he could swear his sensitivity had increased since then.

There was a non-stop barrage of moans and needy little whimpers pouring into their kiss, all perfectly timed with thrusts that seemed to be getting shorter as his desperation climbed, making him feel like a teenager again in all the best ways. And all the while the hand that wasn't being used to support himself wandered over Q's skin, occasionally sneaking between them to stroke him.

Q: Steady breathing was becoming less viable. He could only focus so long before releasing himself to the freedom of hedonism, smothering his sensorium in Luke and only Luke. For now, to his bliss, other quasi-clients had faded from thought.

He reached between them, wrapped his hand around himself, pulled Luke closer and trapped him with his mouth.

Luke: Luke was more than happy to be drawn in, showing his approval with a soft, purring moan. He could spend an eternity drowning in this man and getting swept away by him, absorbing all his comfort and letting it wrap around him like a warm, impenetrable blanket.

As Q's kisses melted his brain his thrusts grew needier and more relentless, speeding up even more, searching for that perfect angle to bring them both to climax.

Q: This - Which man should come first? He would have normally felt inclined for the client. Of course. They were paying for it, unless of course they were paying to voyeur. Luke was a hard shell to crack. Either way this man would be pleased, would be not? So his body tensed, lost in the pleasure of his hand and Luke's cock.

"Will you cum on me? Claim me?" Because I'm yours tonight.

Luke: The question had another half-strangled sound falling from Luke's lips, movements stuttering as a crystal-clear image of doing just that burned itself into his brain and pushed him ever closer to completion.

"Do you want me to?" he managed, forgetting for a moment that Q had given control over to him.

Q: The question made him laugh between gasps for air. "I'm yours, baby, remember? Give me what you want."

Luke: Give Q what he wanted....

Well, that he really wanted was to give Q all the pleasure he could, to watch him fall apart at the seams and know he was the cause. And in order to do that, Q would have to climax first.

So Luke went in for another kiss with renewed passion and vigor, angling his hips so he brushed against Q's prostate with every long, determined thrust.

Q: That wasn't at all what he expected. His thought process at the moment was limited, but by now he expected Luke would have retreated, covered him in his orgasm and lavished him with kisses. This was still, of course, just as gorgeous. He pumped himself with abandon, eyes refusing to close, wanting to memorize the look of bliss on Luke's face as finally, the warning came.

"Luke...I'm..." No, don't at it, just kiss him.

Luke: The lavishing was still very much going to happen, but not without bringing Q to orgasm first.

At the warning Luke thrust faster and more firmly still, stealing Q's lips for his own and pouring his entire being into kissing Q to within an inch of his life. He would only pull out after Q had reached his climax, slipping off the condom and working himself the rest of the way toward his own, coating Q's abdomen with his release.

Q: Q couldn't seem to get enough air in his lungs. Deep breath after deep breath and still his body ached for more. It wasn't going to be enough, and no matter how tightly he squeezed it seemed there was still more cum to surface. His chest and stomach were blanketed in sticky warmth and for some reason it put him in a good humor. Of course it would.

The moment Luke began to release he was reached for. He was determined to finish him, to readjust on the bed so that he could clean his cock by mouth.

Luke: Luke was too far gone to protest the shifting and maneuvering. Just as Q was having trouble getting air into his lungs, he was having trouble getting air out of them. His chest felt like it was going to explode from all his gasping at the delicious feeling of Q's mouth on him and no matter how much and how loudly he moaned and whimpered there was still more sound practically exploding out of him.

When it had finally started to subside, he reached for Q, needy for those kisses and comforting arms.

Q: When the salty taste subsided, Q sprawled back and stretched, exhausted by their releases. So long as Luke didn't mind getting dirty, then of course he was going to pull him close and kiss him. "You're filthy," he grinned.

Luke: He felt entirely too good to mind getting a little sticky. Luke happily went into Q's embrace, curling up in his arms and purring like a kitten.

"So are you," he chuckled, nuzzling into him.

Q: "Mm," kiss. "We should do something about that, but I don't want to move just yet. Give me...an hour," he chuckled.

Luke: "I'll give you two." Kiss, kiss. "Then a nice long shower." Kiss, kiss, nuzzle.

Q: "Two hours is a nap. Are we going to nap like this? One sec." The throw blanket bunched at the end of the bed was pulled up and draped over them. Drying cum gave him an uncomfortable chill.

Luke: The blanket made Luke all the more inclined to snuggle in and even less inclined to move. "We accidentally fell asleep in the yard that one time. Naps are our forte."

Q: That wasn't meant to be a thing between them. He hadn't planned seducing Luke just to - well, no. He was paid to make him happy. This did just that.

"The napping couple," he mused. Time to kiss Luke's sweaty head.

Luke: "The napping, snuggling couple," said Luke, smiling at the kiss. "If we're not napping we're snuggling and making out."

Q: "We didn't even finish the movie," he mused. "We're just horny teenagers."

Luke: Luke laughed. "We are. We still would've ended up snuggling and making out."

Q: "Want a little make out session right now?"

Luke: "Always."

Q: "Come here, then," he grinned.

Luke: Luke grinned back, moving in even closer so he could help himself to those wonderful lips.

Q: Luke was pulled closer by his ass, bringing him to rest all of his weight on top of him. "Mm. Perfect."

Luke: "Sure I'm not squishing you?" Luke chuckled, snuggling in anyway.

Q: "I'll die happy," he chuckled.

Luke: "Squished under a small blond lawyer is a hell of a way to go." He shifted some of his weight to his elbows and resumed his barrage of kisses.

Q: "Mm, so many," he laughed between them. "You know what sounds good right now?"

Luke: Have even more!

"What's that, sugar?" he asked during a breathing break.

Q: "French fries and a chocolate cherry shake." One more kiss? "We should shower for that, but...nap..."

Luke: "Mmmm, fries." One more? Have five more. "Cat nap, then shower, then the miracle of delivery."

Q: "Ah, perfect. You're perfect, sweet thing."

Luke: If Q had wanted to see Luke blush, he'd certainly achieved it. And earned himself another long, lingering kiss.

Q: "Mm." All approval was given with equal passion. It was time to sleep. His eyes couldn't take much more of this wakefulness.

Luke: Luke gave Q another nuzzle as he started drifting off, rearranging the blanket so it was covering them completely before he closed his eyes and followed suit, burrowing in again.

#Sorely Needed Comfort thread #lukebgraham #qtraxler

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bffhreprise · 5 years ago

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Entry 322

I didn’t join in when James guided everyone in magical practice, being allowed to sit and watch, but I roamed the room watching instead. “Magic is real.” The words repeated in my head over and over as I saw the things these people could do. The first step, from what I was told, was getting to a point where I could see the energy floating around us. From there, he’d be teaching me how to orient the energy into spells.

When James called the lesson over, I was honestly disappointed, wishing I could see more spells in action. What was practiced was nothing like what James had performed, but each little spell delighted me.

“Iris, do you have time to work a little longer?” questioned James as the others either practiced a little longer or wandered out.

“Yeah. I was planning on it.” I replied, hoping he didn’t really think I was bailing out so quickly on my second day.

“Excellent. I appreciate your enthusiasm. Don’t forget to take advantage of our numerous benefits too. Oh! If you paid for Ancient Tribes of Earth, we’ll refund you, since the game is also a perk for employees here.

“Never tried it.” I replied with a shrug.

He stared at me, blinked, and kept staring for a moment. Ignoring the fairy who obviously still wanted his attention, he said, “Let’s go get your account set up.”

“Huh? What about work?” I questioned.

“Consider yourself being employed to play the game for the next couple hours.” he replied, guiding the way. James obviously enjoyed the video game, gushing praise about the graphics, options, and gameplay.

When we reached the foyer, there was a crowd of people carrying presents of numerous sizes. James stopped and asked, “What’s all this?”

The fairy had vanished and was no longer sending images to my head, which was a bit disappointing now that I had grown accustomed to her… ramblings? What would I even call a bombardment of sensations to my brain?

Mila curtsied and said, “Courtesy callers with gifts for Lady Pendreigh, Master.”

The entire group of people bowed to James, spotting him after Mila curtsied.

“Am I supposed to bow to you?” I questioned nervously. Once again, I was wondering about my new boss. Who was he that would have strangers bowing to him?

“Please don’t.” he replied in a whisper. “You are very welcome to attend the party tonight if you wish. My fiancée’s celebrating her birthday today with a surprisingly small party. Apparently, she’s accustomed to only celebrating once every four years, but I’m not letting her get away with that here.”

“What? Why so rarely?” I asked in surprise.

“She was born on the twenty-ninth and had a most peculiar mother.” whispered James, obviously not wanting the others to hear. “Unfortunately, the other birthday girl is currently out of town on a job, or we’d be celebrating with her as well.”

“I’ll be relaying everything to her tonight.” stated Mila with a smile.

Nodding, James said, “Still won’t quite be the same, but I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

Following James into the large, octagonal room with floor-to-ceiling mirrors, I asked “Do people normally work on their birthday here? I can if needed. I just usually celebrate with my family.”

“Everyone’s free to take their birthday off. Most do. Portentia’s current assignment is like a gift to herself, really. You’ll never meet someone more motivated than she is. She’ll quite literally work ceaselessly, never stopping for food or rest, until she’s accomplished a goal if she really wants something done.” he stated matter-of-factly.

“That’s not healthy.” I told him out of concern for the girl.

He smiled and said, “Portentia’s incapable of sleeping and doesn’t need sustenance, so she’s very different in that regard.”

I took a moment to try to make sure I didn’t mishear him. Someone working here couldn’t sleep, and didn’t need to eat or drink. I opened my mouth to ask him about that, but didn’t get the chance.

“Iris’ father is interested in having Best Friend For Hire join in his company’s baseball league, so Iris may be feeling concerned over us competing.” announced Mila, standing behind James and looking humble as ever.

My eyes had to be bulging in a cartoon-like fashion as I asked “What? How did you know about that?”

“Your father sent an email to us a few minutes ago.” she explained.

“Please tell him that we’ll accept. We’ll get some practice in restraint.” replied James, smiling again. “That’ll be for this summer, correct?”

“Yes, Master.” she confirmed.

Meanwhile, all I could think was that I needed to stop this. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Dad’s really competitive, and um… you… this place… Isn’t that unfair?”

“Incredibly.” agreed James. “They probably won’t ask us again next year, but we’ll happily oblige this year. Making new friends is part of what we do here, but I assure you that all of us have practice at holding back. I’m not honestly sure what would even happen if I hit a ball with all I’ve got.”

“Neither the ball nor the bat would survive impact, Master.” insisted Mila.

“Ha. Imagine Raine going all out.” he replied with a grin.

“That would be quite catastrophic for the surroundings.” agreed Mila.

Still grinning, James looked into my eyes and asked “Going to warn your father?”

I shook her head and said, “He wouldn’t believe me even if I tried. I still can’t believe what I saw just this morning.”

“I do hope you enjoy working for us, even if there’s an adjustment period.” he told me with obvious sincerity. “Oh, I should mention that the party tonight will be informal, so there’s no need to dress up for it.”

Nodding and looking around, I asked “You use this for video games?” The room was gorgeous, though the circle of outward-facing chairs in the center seemed a little out of place to me.

“Yes. Ancient Tribes of Earth, mostly. Ready to give it a try?” he inquired hopefully.

“I guess.” I told him, never having gotten hooked on video games. Why would I blow my time pretending to do something when I could go out there and do it?

“We could do something else if you’d prefer.” he suggested. “Emma told me that you seemed to like the zoomies. Kayla was going to join you, but her brother made her get back to work before you were finished with the paperwork. Whatever the case, you’ll be paid for your time today no matter how we spend it.”

“Well, shouldn’t I be studying or something. Mila had said there was a great deal to learn.” I pointed out.

“There is.” insisted Mila.

“No doubt, but I can’t believe you haven’t tried this.” he told me, looking as surprised as he sounded. “Mila’s mother made it.”

“Her mother?” I asked, wondering how an A.I. could have a mother.

“Aaliyah Sypher, my secretary, is also the president of Global Princess Entertainment, the company which made this game.” he explained.

“She’ll be thirteen this year.” stated Mila.

“Your secretary is thirteen!?” I asked incredulously.

“She looks far younger. You’ll see.” he replied, looking amused.

Before I could organize my thoughts on how to get a better explanation, two of the enormous mirrors lit up, showing an opening video of a dazzling, fantastical world. “A thirteen-year-old made this?” I questioned aloud, not being able to picture a girl that young making such a life-like video, much less a whole game.

“I believe she was twelve at release. She might have been eleven when she started working on it. Hard to say.” stated James in reply.

“Very.” agreed Mila. “Mother enjoys confusing people with her age. If you don’t mind, I can import your information for account creation directly from our company database.”

“Uh… sure.” I told her.

Smiling and motioning toward one of the screens, Mila said, “There you are. Simply input your account name and password.”

“What about payment?” I asked, noticing the monthly subscription section, which was greyed out.

“Free subscription is one of the perks you have as an employee of Best Friend For Hire.” explained Mila.

“So it’s not taken out of my pay?” I confirmed.

“Of course not. The Master would be devastated if Mother secretly charged employees.” insisted Mila.

I nodded and followed Mila’s instructions as I went through the process of designing a character. Noticing that I missed some options, Mila was quick to point out the extra features, demonstrating that I could change every last detail of my character, even adding precise blemishes to the skin. She, of course, controlled the screen mentally… electronically…? This place made things confusing. Mila’s first character example looked exactly like her, so I asked her to do me, which was just a bit great to see. My brothers would love seeing me in a video game! Well, they’d be jealous and want to try it, but this was cool.

“Make me taller!” exclaimed Iris with a grin. I always wanted to be a little taller.

Mila obliged, and then said, “You can also be any of these other species.” She explained the benefits of each different species while also listing off who-played-what. Then we continued on to other options.

“So what do you actually do in the game?” I questioned.

“Socialize, adventure, and try to save the world from evil.” replied James, his screen… mirror…? nearly covered in different chat windows.

“Other than saving the world, can’t you do that stuff in real life instead?” I pointed out.

“The Master is quite capable of saving the world in real life.” insisted Mila with no sign of joking.

I had trouble believing in obvious, world-threatening evil in the real world, but I said, “Then that’s even less reason to do it in a game.”

“But in the game, you don’t have to worry about the ramifications of your actions as much. If someone dies here, they can be resurrected. In the real world, consequences are far more permanent.” explained James, sounding all too serious. He was a wizard, and I didn’t have a clue what all he could do with magic. Maybe he already had fought evil?

“Fine, I’ll try it.” I assured him, continuing on with the character creation. “What should I name her?”

“Have a favorite name?” he asked.

“Trixie.” I told him, typing the name in myself. “These keyboards are so strange.” The keyboard wasn’t real, just being some sort of projection on a tray.

“Mother will be disappointed that you didn’t go through the chair tutorial, but no one does the entire thing.” replied Mila. “Mother is, however, flattered by your name choice. Her middle name is Trixibelle.”

“Oh. That’s cool.” I absently told her. Then what she had said finally registered. “Did you already tell her?”

“Of course. We talk continuously most days.” replied Mila with a smile.

James asked me to accept an invitation into his guild, casually brushing off the number of members as if that was nothing. I could hardly believe tens of thousands of people followed James around in a game world. How did he manage that?

Mila showed me how to alter the chat, so I’d only see when people were talking to me. There were so many options just for the chat program. I could set filters for keywords that would add anyone mentioning them to my viewable chat as well. James, on the other hand, seemed to be absorbing everything, despite his chat scrolling by at incredible speed.

After getting through the initial quests, James and I took some quests together, which was more fun than I expected. Eventually, I did pull myself away to do actual work, which turned out to be more gamelike than expected. The company’s tutorials were apparently written by Aaliyah as well, so that explained the similar design, carefully walking through what would be expected, how training worked, and the benefits of schooling through the Institute of Autodidacticism over a normal college. My parents really weren’t going to believe this place.

#Best Friend For Hire Reprise #Best #Friend #For #Hire #Reprise #Jovial Times #Jovial #Times #Fantasy #Fiction #Story

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jpoehlmann · 6 years ago

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I am now into the third month of my clinical trial for poziotinib. After the first two months, I had to take two weeks off for recovery from the rash it gave me. I am, however, glad to be back on the drug for the very simple reason that it was effectively killing the cancer within me. That is not a claim I make lightly, or, sadly, have had reason to make much at all over the past year.

When I was first put on chemotherapy back at the end of 2014, it was because there were no targeted therapies or immunotherapies available, either on the market or through clinical trials, that were likely to work for me. Chemo seemed to be the only option and, in some ways, it felt like a last-ditch effort. My tumor was considered inoperable, the metastasis had spread too far and wide, and radiation was not even being presented as an option.

While I was primed for a limited response and the possibility that I might only get a few months extension from the process, it turned out that chemo kind of worked for me. It worked well enough, in fact, that I would stay on it for over two and a half years — most of that time, simply keeping the cancer growth in stasis. There was talk of the possibility of being on that drug for five or more years at one point, but not long after the two-year mark I began to notice small changes in my scans. Very small, but changes, nonetheless.

I had plenty of time to think about options. And I knew that chemo was never going to be a permanent part of my life. There had been the hope, however, that it would keep things more or less static for a much longer time. I’m not a fan of hope — it always lets you down in the end, sometimes viciously; I far prefer a simple, pragmatic approach to my future. But hope sneaks in, lodges itself where you weren’t looking, and waits to insinuate itself in your private thoughts while you aren’t paying attention. Then you have a scan that clearly shows a shift in the primary tumor, a dramatic enough change in shape that it would be silly to even consider prolonging the current treatment, and all bets are off as talk of new biopsies and possible drugs begin to swirl through the air. No matter how prepared I thought I had been for that moment, I failed to consider hope mucking up the works.

Still, there were options — and they all sounded good. Or at least passable. A liquid biopsy — essentially just a small blood sample sent off to a lab — offered up a newly targetable mutation. And we went for it. A couple of times. And had no real success. Then there was this clinical trial I am currently on, and there was clear improvement in my lungs. By “clear,” I actually mean “clear,” too: previous to this new drug, the cancer in my lungs had been branching out, cloaking the tissue in what almost looked like a black widow’s web. My latest CT scan was the clearest one I have seen since my diagnosis.

So when I say that it was effectively killing the cancer within me, I mean it, and the statement means something to me. Something very special. Something that has made me ready to dive right back into the acid bath that was my first eight week experience, though with the hope that I’ve built up some level of tolerance and that the acid might have been slightly neutralized by knocking a couple of milligrams off my dose.

Here I am on day seven, only one week, and the rash is clearly running the same basic course that it did before. My scalp hurts, albeit probably a little less. I’m glad that I had the foresight to chop off my hair and shave before the rash had a chance to return. Even so, my short little hairs on top of my head are already weirdly wiry and stiff, the texture that contributed to a lot of the pain I had before. Rubbing up against them, they poke right back into my scalp like little needles, which does not bode well for pleasant sleeping regardless of the supposed comfiness promised by my pillow. Still, having much less of that hair to contend with, and almost nothing left of my beard, has already paid off.

Being proactive with the creams and oils and gels and lotions and drops and sprays and whatever else I have amassed on my bathroom shelf is also helping… I think. It is a bit early to tell, but so far I am managing to maintain more of my actual skin color and I do not itch nearly as much as I feared I might. Time will tell, of course, and the rash is marching on.

It only took six days to really begin erupting. Last night I realized that I needed to cover my pillowcase with an old T-shirt again, just in case. And I woke up with spots of blood and pus all over where my scalp had pressed into it. Scabbing had begun in earnest, already crusty when I went in to wash the sleep from my face. And the warm water I splashed cut up against my skin like little razors doused in lemon juice. But it was a quick sensation, over by the time I blotted the moisture away with a clean towel. And that towel then quickly thrown in the next load of laundry.

Today, I am oozing. Tomorrow, I am likely to be dry and scaly, or oozing some more, or, if I am lucky, something in between. My skin is still soft, and I will try to keep it that way. But more than any of that I am simply holding out that old demon, hope, once again, that the scientific miracle I witnessed on those last two scans will be repeated again.

And now, my week in pictures:

The day before I restarted treatment. Look at that acne-free face!

The beginning of day four, signs of the rash.

Still the beginning of day four.

My 14mg dose of poziotinib, and 4mg of loperamide (to slow things down).

Day five, with glasses.

Day five, with a little sign.

My head on day five.

Day six.

Good morning, day seven!

Source of the imprints on the pillow covering.

Day seven.

If this post resonates with you, please consider supporting my work through a monthly subscription to my feed on Patreon, or a one-time donation through PayPal. Follow me on Twitter, Facebook, Tumbler and many other fancy social sites or apps. Please share my posts to groups you are involved with on Reddit or Google+ or anywhere else that you feel it will help or enlighten or inspire another reader. (Sharing buttons are below the post!)

Thank you!

Week One: The Oozing Begins I am now into the third month of my clinical trial for poziotinib. After the first two months…

#adenocarcinoma #Cancer #chemo diaries #Chemotherapy #Health #Lung Cancer #positive approach #Positivity #Poziotinib #Targeted Therapy #wellness

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itsworn · 6 years ago

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Flashback! Pro Street 1966 Mustang for Today

It’s generally agreed upon that we’re all born with our own unique, innate set of traits and abilities—those inherent mental or physical attributes that help shape our lives and determine our varied contributions to the world around us. One such inborn talent—one that your author sadly lacks—reveals itself as a natural knack for building stuff. Stuff like houses. Or cars. Or maybe both.

Mike Devorak is a Californian who makes his living as a general contractor, having spent most of his working life custom-crafting new homes from the ground up. He seemed to come by that complicated woodworking skill quite naturally. But he’s also one of those gifted hobbyists capable of carrying out a project car build from start to finish, as proven by this Pro Street-ish 1966 Mustang 2+2 that, aside from upholstery, transmission, and paint, is basically a product of his own two hands (with the frequent help of his brother, Rick). Without any prior formal automotive training or professional experience to prepare Mike for the task, he simply cast off any doubts and got down to it.

Though influenced by the Pro Street trends of the 1980s, Mike still managed to keep up with changing automotive “fashion” over his Mustang’s lengthy build program. Those rear hoops are 20 inches tall and almost as wide at 18 inches, while the fronts are 18×5½.

Despite looking like something out of a ’60s rail dragster, Mike reports that the skyscraping Windsor is right at home on the street, capable of sending around 700 horses downstream through a C6 auto and Gear Vendors overdrive. The latter helps normalize the Mustang’s 5.40:1 axle ratio.

And he persevered, because the build took a while to complete—about 26 years, a span that Mike says included moving between no less than fifteen different residences and raising five sons. He simply labored away on the project “at his leisure” as time and finances permitted, learning as he went.

It began in 1981 when 16-year-old Mike bought a worn but solid fastback from his dad for the princely sum of $2,600 (paid over nine monthly installments). When we asked about its original powertrain, Mike somewhat sheepishly admitted that this Mustang had been a factory 289 Hi-Po with four-speed. If he’d known then what he knows now, he might not have been so quick to pretty much tear it down to a bare Unibody just a couple years later to begin its “many modifications.”

Many indeed—ultimately based around an Art Morrison 2×3 tube chassis, further stiffened with a 10-point cage. Adapting a Mustang’s Unibody to such a full perimeter frame required Mike to learn the diverse metalworking/fabricating/welding skills necessary to shape and fit a new aluminum floorpan, tranny tunnel, as well as the roomy rear tubs required to eventually house gargantuan 20×18 Billet Specialties wheels and Mickey Thompson 31x18R20 rubber. A radically shortened 9-inch housing is filled with a Mark Williams centersection, Detroit Locker, and Moser 35-spline axles tucked in between, located by a four-link setup. Up front, things pivot on tubular upper and lower A-arms from Scott’s Hotrods, while steering is by way of a Flaming River rack-and-pinion.

You don’t build a chassis like that and then go all limp-wristed under the hood. Around 2005, Mike turned to Ford Racing for a short-block assembly that now displaces 418 cubes. Built together with his friend Matt Baldanado, the bored and stroked Windsor is probably nearly double its original height, thanks to a beer keg–sized Mooneyham 6-71 blower and BDS EFI, complete with bugcatcher. Despite looking full-race, Mike assures us the 700-ish horsepower mill is quite streetable, thanks in part to a sane hydraulic roller cam and a Gear Vendors overdrive tucked between the car’s C6 automatic and its truck-ish 5.40:1 ring-and-pinion (the effect of which is also tamed by those tall rear skins).

Sheltered by a 10-point cage, the interior centers around Pro Car buckets on either side of a custom console that face Mike’s own alloy instrument panel fitted with Auto Meter Phantom gauges and a central ICE/GPS head unit.

While all this motivational hardware screams “competition,” much of the quarter-century build time can be attributed to painstakingly sweating the (tasteful) details on the fastback’s exterior and interior. Among the body’s many tweaks are welded-in front and rear valances and rocker panels, a completely reworked front clip, stretched wheelwells, a cut-and-tucked front bumper, LED taillights, and shaved roof rails and door handles. Crafting the reverse-hinged hood with its homemade guides and hinges and its massive, precisely shaped and flanged cutout to clear the supercharger superstructure added untold hours to the project. Yet, all this body surgery came together without losing the original lines and character of a ’66 2+2.

Of course, the same can’t be said about the cockpit, where you’ll find no resemblance whatsoever to its factory origins. After doing all the cabin tinwork—including carving out that nicely detailed aluminum instrument panel—Mike eventually assigned upholstery duty to JB Custom Interiors in Camarillo, California, where yards of Mercedes-sourced leather were cut and stitched into place throughout.

Likewise, final body prep and paint were outsourced to the pros at Palmer’s Custom Paint & Body in Moorpark, California, where that understated combo of Mineral Grey with black stripes was shot over everything, including the bumpers.

Not long after completion, an audio company rep spotted Mike’s ride, and soon it was front and center in that company’s 2009 SEMA Show booth. Since then, it’s been shown a few times, but primarily serves in a weekend cruiser role, whenever Mike gets time away from framing and contracting house builds. Having determined that he likes working with metal at least as much as wood, Mike seems itchy to start another automotive project soon. For his sake, and ours, we hope that one won’t take another quarter-century to complete.

Back-in-the-day photos of Mike’s quarter-century-long build on his awesome Pro Street Mustang.

The post Flashback! Pro Street 1966 Mustang for Today appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

from Hot Rod Network https://www.hotrod.com/articles/flashback-pro-street-1966-mustang-today/ via IFTTT

#IFTTT #Hot Rod Network

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easyweight101 · 7 years ago

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Renaderm Eye Cream Review (UPDATED 2017): Don’t Buy Before You Read This!

Renaderm Eye Cream is an eye cream that was created to improve the tone and texture of the skin around the eyes. This product achieves this effect by stimulating collagen production.

Renaderm Eye Cream is made from an unknown blend of ingredients but claims to reduce the appearance of wrinkles, fine lines, age spots, dark circles, and puffiness. Additionally, users can expect relief from dry skin and a youthful glow.

Kremovage is our top pick in an ever-expanding sea of eye creams and gels. Rich in antioxidants, this formula repairs damaged skin, while hydrating with the addition of hyaluronic acid and squalane. Retinol and peptides boost cell turnover and stimulate collagen production–bringing the youthful results users are looking for. Shop Kremovage today – click here for pricing and product details.

Do You Know the Best Eye Creams of 2017 ?

Renaderm Eye Cream Ingredients and Side Effects

Renaderm Eye Cream does not come with a clear picture of what is inside this product. One website promoting this product claims the cream gets its benefits from the use wheat protein, peptides, and antioxidants.

Another site says the product features corn oil and shea butter. And then, there’s the Amazon listing—which claims the main ingredients are vitamins and hyaluronic acid.

Unfortunately, there is no official website for this product, and the information we were able to find is inconclusive. We don’t really have a good idea as to what the benefits of using this cream are, or if there are any risks associated with application.

With that in mind, we believe there are countless options available—at every price point—that show more promise than this product.

Learn how you can look younger — with the right tools. Click here to see what our experts are saying.

Renaderm Eye Cream Quality of Ingredients

This product is something of a mystery. Since the official website has been removed, we’re forced to look at the Amazon listing for answers. Amazon’s description says this product is made from hyaluronic acid and an infusion of vitamins. If this is true, it’s strange that there’s no further detail laying out which vitamins were used in the blend.

Also, hyaluronic acid as a standalone ingredient leaves much to be desired. It provides moisture and won’t irritate the skin, but doesn’t do much else. For this to be an effective formula, users are better off with something that includes retinol, peptides, ceramides, antioxidants, in any combination.

Renaderm Eye Cream does not come with the requisite amount of information for a product that goes on one’s skin. In fact, we can’t even find an official website, a landing page, anything that discusses the use of this product and what it’s made from. There are a handful of YouTube videos that still advertise this item, but they only highlight the benefits of the product, not how the cream stands to provide those benefits.

Unfortunately, we have reason to believe that this product could pose a risk to consumers who are unaware of whether this product contains any allergens or otherwise harmful ingredients.

Learn about the eye serums that really boost collagen — details on our website.

EDITOR’S TIP: Combine this product with a proven eye cream such as Kremovage for better results.

The Price and Quality of Renaderm Eye Cream

Renaderm Eye Cream is available only through a confusing free trial offer. There’s no advertised pricing on this item on the part of the manufacturer. There are a few eBay listings, and the product is currently available on Amazon for $28 per 0.5 ounces of cream.

What’s also worth pointing out is, Renaderm’s free trial sites appear to have been taken down. When searching for this product, another item, Rejuvaderm pops up, as well as several listings from Scambook, RipOff Report, and other consumer complaint hubs.

How this works is, there is fine print that pops up after placing an order, explaining to consumers that placing an order takes the place of a contract. This contract is an ongoing arrangement in which consumers receive a monthly shipment of Renaderm Eye Cream, costing approximately $89 per order.

Sadly, this payment arrangement is all too common these days. Renaderm Eye Cream and other products that are sold through similar YouTube videos and landing pages are designed to deceive consumers. The actual contents of the product don’t matter. The promise of a 30-day supply for free is enough to get people to share their billing information.

Unfortunately, these scams are legal to some extent. Whoever is behind this product is protected by fine print loopholes–meaning, shoppers, perhaps unwittingly, waive their right to sue this company.

Because the product is available through Amazon, users have the opportunity to sidestep any significant issues with the payment arrangement—but these companies avoid selling their wares on Amazon and elsewhere since it’s out of sync with their marketing scheme.

Check out our comprehensive guide to the best eye serums on the market today.

Business of Renaderm Eye Cream

It’s not clear who is responsible for making Renaderm Eye Cream. The product appears on Amazon, a handful of unauthorized eBay listings, and in a few commercials posted on YouTube. There’s nothing posted anywhere (at least that we could find) that offers any contact information, company history, or anything else potential shoppers might find helpful.

While there’s not much on the Renaderm front when it comes to details about the product or manufacturer, there are several listings on sites like Scambook and RipOff Report, citing the all-too-common free trial scam.

Here’s a look at some of the comments we found during our research:

“This cream was reportedly endorsed by celebrities like Ellen DeGeneres, Angelina Jolie, and Christie Brinkley. The company sucks you in with a $5 trial, and then charges $90 a month for this terrible cream.”

“I racked up about $400 in charges after paying $3.99 for a “free” trial. After several attempts at canceling this arrangement, I finally canceled my card.”

Most of the comments are of this same nature. Users unknowingly got looped into a free trial scheme and were frustrated with their attempts to cancel.

Customer Opinions of Renaderm Eye Cream

Unlike most of the products that fall under the free trial umbrella, Renaderm Eye Cream does have Amazon reviews listed. Unfortunately, most sound as if they were fabricated by someone working for the Renaderm company—the grammar seems a bit off and the comments were vague.

Here are some of the comments we found posted online:

“Decent moisturizer, but haven’t seen any changes thus far. Probably won’t continue use after I run out.”

“It seems okay. The formula is really watery—it’s not really a cream, as one might expect with this consistency. I don’t think I’d ever buy this again.”

“Skin looked better after using this product twice a day—not sure if it works for wrinkles and fine lines, but it seems pretty good for moisturizing.”

Five-star reviews were almost incoherent, so we did not include those. Based on the comments we found, it seems that Renaderm Eye Cream could simply contain hyaluronic acid as its sole active ingredient, rather than a whole line up of vitamins.

Unfortunately, it seems that many of the more positive reviews were paid—they made little sense but were profusely thanking this company for providing antioxidant benefits with use.

With that in mind, we believe there are better options on the market for users looking for meaningful antiaging benefits. It sounds as though this formula is made exclusively with water and hyaluronic acid—which won’t bring the dramatic changes advertised in the Renaderm advertisements.

Overwhelmed by the countless eye creams on the market? Click here to view our short list of the best options for your skin concerns.

Conclusion – Does Renaderm Eye Cream Work?

Renaderm Eye Cream appears to be a low-quality product designed to get people to sign up for an ongoing payment arrangement. We have no reason to believe this product contains anything but some sort of moisturizer, despite claims it has been infused with vitamins.

According to the Amazon listing. This product relies primarily on hyaluronic acid to stimulate collagen production. That’s not really the point of hyaluronic acid. This ingredient hydrates dry skin cells and helps the skin retain moisture with use—it might have some anti-aging benefits, but the main purpose is moisture. Users will need a product containing a more potent mix of ingredients if they wish to see any meaningful results.

In the end, Renaderm Eye Cream has a number of strikes against it. The product is essentially a watery moisturizer, that even seems overvalued at the lowered price point of $28 per unit.

Additionally, it’s not clear how old the product sold on Amazon is—the official Renaderm landing pages are nowhere in sight, so these listings could be an attempt to unload old (and potentially expired) stock.

Kremovage is the ideal solution for users looking for a meaningful solution to problems like crepey eyelids, crow’s feet, age spots, and loose skin. This eye cream works to hydrate dry skin, boost collagen production and protect against free radical damage with use.

Kremovage is made with a potent blend of botanicals, retinol, and peptides. The formula has been subject to several rounds of testing, so consumers can count on a product that is both gentle and effective. Get started today! Details for purchasing Kremovage right here.

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lauradoeslipstick · 8 years ago

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February Favorites

February was an unusual month for me. I rarely travel these days, but in early Feb I flew to DC for a girls trip- which was truly amazing but also left my skin destroyed (no sleep, terrible diet, dry airplanes) and it took the whole month to recover (hormones!!). I also got paid a little extra and decided to treat myself to some new things after several months of buying gifts for others only.

skincare

- I broke down a few weeks ago and ordered the newly available smaller size of the Sunday Riley UFO Ultra-Clarifying Face Oil. I know I’ve talked about SR and this specific product before, but it’s truly the only thing that treats and prevents my breakouts, ESPECIALLY hormonal ones. For half the price you can get half the full size, and I honestly think that’s all anyone needs since you’re only using it 2-3 times a week and a little goes a long way.

- In my Sephora Play box this month I got a sample of the Clinique Pep Start moisturizer, which I was surprised to learn is also a pore-filling/blurring primer! I really liked the way my skin looked after application, and the fact that it does double duty as skincare. If you have truly dry skin you might need to apply a heavier moisturizer underneath, but it worked amazing for my oily skin. Would be fantastic for someone who doesn’t need coverage but wants to have smooth, even-looking skin.

- I don’t think I’ve talked about GlamGlow products before because many of them irritate my skin, but this month I turned back to what is IMO the best one- the Supermud Clearing Treatment mask (in the white container). I have a small size that I use as a spot treatment when I get my monthly chin outbreak or anytime my skin feels congested, and it honestly works within minutes. It either brings stubborn zits to the surface or calms inflamed ones and reduces redness. I don’t think I’d use this all over my face, but as a specific area mask it’s amazing

beauty

- I finally tried (and liked) a new foundation! I decided to check out the Estee Lauder Double Wear Light range (the original Double Wear was a little too heavy and a little too yellow-leaning) and damn... WE HAVE A WINNER. As we all know, I have extremely oily skin that eats makeup and causes thin formulas (like most BB creams or tinted moisturizers) to simply slide off over the course of a day. This is the only lightweight foundation I’ve tried that stays put, even without a major dose of powder. I love that it’s low maintenance enough that I can throw it on to go to my office or run errands, but full coverage enough that I can wear it for a night out too. If you have oily skin, you need this.

- I haven’t changed my eyeliner game in years, and I decided I wanted to step out of the box a bit... but not too much! So I tried the step-sister of my beloved MAC Teddy- MAC’s modern twist Kajal liner in “groundbreaker”. It’s still a shimmery brown, but it’s more of a bronze than a warm gold like Teddy. I’ve been smudging this into my lash line instead of using liquid liner for a wing and loving the low key messy vibe. Plus I think it makes my eyes look extra blue!

- Another thing we know I love is a good peach blush. Of course I love MAC Peaches, a matte coral shade, and NARS Luster, a shimmery peachy-pink. But I wanted to see if there was one in between the two (a secret about me is that I often mix blushes because one is too bright or too matte or too whatever) that would be juuuust right. I tried MAC Style, which was a little too orange-y for me though I kept it and will continue using it for mixology... and kept my eye on several other high end peaches. Then I saw that a dupe for Too Faced’s “I Will Always Love You” blush is Wet N Wild’s Color Icon blush in “Apricot In The Middle”. I picked it up immediately ($3!) and it’s fantastic. I would say it’s a slightly more orange-toned version of Milani Luminoso (the infamous peach drugstore blush), and lasts a little longer. If you’re looking for that peach-y glow, definitely try it out.

- Also in my PLAY box this month was a sample size of the NARS velvet lip guide in the shade “bound”. This one is tricky to describe- it’s not a matte liquid lipstick that dries down and doesn’t budge, it’s got a sheen to it but it’s not a gloss, and it does last a good amount. Bound is also hard to describe- it’s like a muted dusty rose? Almost a desaturated version of my exact lip color, which makes it perfect for every day. And because it’s almost moisturizing there’s not the same fussing an intensely matte lipstick requires. I can see myself buying the full size of this shade and wearing it to pretty much anything.

clothing

- This month I ordered 3 new pieces from ASOS Curve and love them all. I’ve been wanting a black wrap-top jumpsuit for months, and I finally caved during the President’s Day sale and picked this one up. It fits well and is comfortable but fancy enough to be worn to a nice event. I also grabbed this polka dotted wrap dress because it’s very on brand for me, and when I tried it on BF said it’s his favorite thing I’ve ever worn! It’s almost a sliky blouse material but totally opaque and also comfy. Very 50s pin-up. Finally I ordered this pale pink leather jacket totally on a whim, and have decided that it’s perfect for my needs. It’s edgy without being dark (like all my other clothes), comfortable and lightweight enough to be worn over bulky sweaters in the winter or light dresses in the spring. It also fits me almost exactly the same as the model, which is a surprise that never happens.

etc.

- BF and I have been sleeping on a literally nailed together wooden bed frame we got mostly for free with our queen mattress this past fall. We decided we needed an upgrade and something a little lighter, and went with this white metal frame from Ikea. At first I was skeptical that it looked a little hospital-y, but it’s exactly what our small bedroom needed, and is so lightweight that it will be a charm to move.

- John Wick 2 was great! As was re-watching the original. Moana was kind of fun, though I thought the songs sucked. BF and I have also been re-watching the first season of True Detective, which of course is amazing, and I’ve been re-watching all of Pretty Little Liars.

- Food-wise, I’ve been enjoying Halo clementines, though they also are the culprit behind some bad heartburn episodes. I like to keep mine in the fridge after they ripen a bit, because there is nothing better than a cold orange of any kind. I also picked up these Gatorade 32 oz water bottles, which are probably the best water bottle I’ve ever used: They’re spill proof but easy to drink from, you can unscrew the top to add ice, and they’re cheap enough that replacing is easy!

xoxo

#February #Favorites #Beauty #Lifestyle #2017 #Favs

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cutiecrates · 8 years ago

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Review: Doki Doki Dec 2016 Box 13

The month of December is very special for Doki Doki Crate. Why is that you might ask~?

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!

That’s right guys x3 Doki Doki Crate officially turned 1 year old in December!

To commemorate such a special occasion, DDC was offering a special “give away” for all of its Subscribers in the form of a Scratch Card. Subscribers could either win a Discount to the online shop, or win a random prize like a new 3DS, A totoro sleeping bag, and so much more!

Not only that, but everyone also received a special Pote Usa Bunny Squeaky Toy x3 many of which had a code on it for a unique discount on them.

If you’re new to the blog, I’ll just mention now that I got the Discount prize, and my Pote Usa Bunny didn’t have a code on it. The discount Code was good until near the end of February- but I ended up using it this month. You can read about my purchase here.

For December, everyone was getting into the holiday mood x3 with Totomi and Nuki doing her Christmas Shopping as her other friends spy on them, to Hoppe Chan decorating for the holidays and the adorable Homeroom Bears going out (with mixed signals due to cultural differences!).

As usual I’ll cover the contents of the Suteki Crate. Such items included: Christmas Gudetama Plushie, A Nyanko Nabe Healing Puzzle, Korilakkuma Christmas Plushie, Animal Crossing Amiibo Festival, Fuzzy Bunny Backpack, Sailor Moon Crystal DVD Special Edition Set, Rilakkuma USB Cup Warmer, and Wii U with Mario Kart 8 Bundle.

I already own a Wii U, and Mario Kart 8 x3 plus I love animal crossing.

(You guys probably didn’t know this yet; but because being addicted to cute things, I also love Video Games!)

Without further ado, lets get on with the show!

Here you guys can see the scratcher I mentioned. The writing in the top corner was done with the Fluffy Pink Pen you see before it. Not only is it really cute and soft (its a pen with a giant pom-pom on top and ribbon wrapped around it), but its fine tip and cap make it a wonderful addition to any desk for a bit of cuteness.

(The little bows on it are from packaging wrapping in the box. As I mentioned in a previous post I save them.)

The two cuddliest members of the Crate got associated fairly quick. Here we have Calvin, one of the Homeroom Bears. He is very soft with his cute and fashionable winter scarf.

(I will be honest, I really wanted Coco. But Calvin is adorable~)

Next to Calvin is one of the Mameshiba Cellphone Cleaner. Some of you might remember this post, in which I got something very similar. Last time I got one of the brothers, and this time I believe I got Sasuke, their friend. Again, these really do work. I remember someone expressing doubt with them until I let her try it out herself, and let me tell you, seeing that expression she made was entirely worth it.

Wook at that wittle face~

The Squeaky Pote Usa was part of the Anniversary deal going on with the box, while the Usa Loppy ECO Bag was part of the crate itself, being the featured special collab item of the crate. With a button and buckle, this adorable bag will quickly make its way into your heart (if it doesn’t make its way into your list of necessary shopping items first!).

I used this bag only once so far, when I decided to walk to the market a few weeks back before it got really cold. It was so cute and fun, and I actually attached it to my jackets zipper. I can’t wait to use it again~

Usa Loppy Squeaker - kinda already covered this little guy. An adorable squeaking bunny you can just keep for cuteness or drive your pets crazy.

Yoko fell in love with it, so I agreed to let her keep it when I finished.

Daily Organizer - An adorable tribute to some of Japan’s most iconic. Including Mt. Fuji, Daruma and Kokeshi dolls, and kitties!

For those of you unfamiliar, a Daruma Doll is a special object said to grant wishes. You fill in one of its eyes with a marker, then when the wish comes true you fill in the other. A Kokeshi Doll is a very traditional Asian doll whose style changes depending on the maker. And resemble Shinobu from Kin-Iro Mosaic...)

(Really cute anime, I suggest you check it out.)

Anyway, this is a great item. Even though it is in Japanese, its really easy to figure out. I don’t really have a use for it though, I don’t have a very active lifestyle (long story short, I’m pretty sickly so I never really took up any sort of sports or outside of the house hobbies), but I do use it for little things like birthdays, Holidays, errand days, days we plan to get out of the house.

Monthly Hoppe Chan - Having prepared for her date, Hoppe Chan patiently waits with her decorated tree, present, and the beautiful, glittering snow as it gently pours from the clouds~

As usual, Hoppe Chan and the Cream are made from squishy rubbery plastic. Everything else is deco plastic.

I decided not to take this one out of the package... but I may lose to temptation and open it for a little squishing~

Lastly, we have the Paw Gloves! If you love cats as much as I do, you’ve probably wanted a pair of these (if you don’t already have them). Not only are they cute, but they’re very fluffy and feel nice on the hands, and include a string to tie through their little side-notches.

Did you know, Grey and Pink were the fashionable winter colors this year?

And now its everyone’s favorite Funny Story Time : D

Two years ago (2015) I really wanted a pair of these after I spotted them on an online shop. They came in a variety of colors but I love black cats, so I chose the black. They were really cheap because of a sale going on, on the store, so it didn’t take me that long to convince myself to get them.

So they said it would only take maybe a week to get here. We waited and waited, probably 3 weeks to a month and they never showed up. We contacted the store and they offered to send out another pair to compensate, because nobody knew what happened, and if we paid for shipping.

Would you believe the second pair never showed up either??!

We waited weeks, again, for nothing. So by this point we were pretty much done and contacted them for a refund and haven’t used the store since. I never got those gloves, never heard anything from them, I washed my hands of the whole thing.

I eventually did get my gloves from another website though. We found them- even cheaper there. So now I own 2 pairs of kitty gloves!

(*just noticed the lighting makes my skin look darker than it is*)

I basically took this so that you guys could kinda see how they look worn. They really accent your nails~

<3 Cutie Ranking <3

(just to avoid confusion, Quality is still counted. I just decided not to list it because it never changes. It’s always 5 out of 5. I’ll only list it now if I feel that it isn’t.)

Content - While I enjoyed my last Doki Doki Crate, I think this one is definitely my favorite one thus far! Everything was super-cute, and I loved that they added additional things to celebrate the Anniversary. The one thing I didn’t like is that they didn’t really include anything Christmas-y. I mean yeah, Hoppe Chan clearly looks decorated for it, and Calvin is good for Winter, but that is the extent of it.

Practicality - Everything is essentially usable. But realistically speaking, I use nearly everything in the box to the extent it can be use. One good thing about the lack of Christmas themed items is that they feel more natural for yearly/every day use. 5 out of 5.

Total Rank: 15 out of 15 Cuties! If I had to choose one box I felt was the best for this branding it would be this one. This was also the first Crate my friend got, and she fell in love with it. I was so glad she had such a great impression from it :3

<3 Cutie Scale <3

1. Mameshiba Cellphone Strap - Its a kawaii doggy in the shape of a BEAN (like the original mameshiba), not only that but its useful.

2. Calvin - Kawaii <3 I’m addicted to anything snuggly and soft~

3. Usa Loppy Bag - Very handy, and cute! It’s a bag, but its pink with a bashful bunny on it. You can’t beat that.

4. Daily Organizer - It’s covered head to toe in adorable cuteness!

5. Usa Loppy Squeaker - It’s so cute, I could squish it over and over. Although the squeaker kind of give me a headache after I do it so much...

6. Hoppe Chan - I’m obsessed with Deco, but this is more pretty than it is cute to me.

7. Paw Gloves - Same as below. I adore cat paws (I squish my kitties paws every day <3), but they just don’t have that Kawaii charm.

8. Fluffy Pen - its adorable, don’t get me wrong. But it lacks the cute faces almost everything else has.

Okay guys, 2 more boxes to go and I’ll be caught up to my January subscriptions. The next box I’m doing introduces my currently last brand I’m getting (remember I get 5), and there are 2 more boxes I’m getting this month (ironically one IS Doki Doki Crate, while the other is also from Japan Crate, the makers of it.)

Look forward to it guys! Stay Cute and merry late Christmas!

#doki doki crate #Review #monthly subscription #anniversary #subscription box #hoppe chan #christmas #Gudetama #rilakkuma #wii u #pote usa #usa loppy

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