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dronebiscuitbat · 4 months ago

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Give Me a Reason: Chapter 3 -"Ew… Lettuce"

The cafeteria was loud with the murmur of high school students, and Uzi was already gritting her teeth, it wasn't so much the volume that got to her as much as the consistency, it didn't really matter what she did, there was always noise. And it was making her more irritable then normal.

“Did you hear about Rodney?”

“And Like, I told him it was fine or whatever.”

“God my uncle is so hot…”

She got snippets of conversations as she made her way to the lunch line despite her best efforts to block them put, she put an earbud in to try and help to block out the constant noise, but it only helped so much.

She picked up a stainless steel tray, ones that reminded her of the one's in prison shows. And she wouldn't be surprised if they were the same honestly. The quality of the food had to be similar, anyway.

Speaking of, a lady in a haircut dumped a spoonful of mushy peas, then a spoonful of carrots, and a sandwich on her plate, none of it looked appetizing in the slightest, the peas didn't even look like they had salt on them.

She sighed as she moved through the line, grabbing a milk cartoon that had a 15 percent chance of being spoiled and a cup of peaches. Before finding an empty table to sit at near the middle of the cafeteria. If it was anything like last year, people would avoid sitting here unless they didn't have anywhere else to go.

She broke into the peaches immediately, it was the only thing that ever had a chance to taste any good, since it was prepackaged little fruit cups instead of being “cooked” by the staff.

“Hey Uzi!”

N came to sit beside her, something she should have probably been preparing for, considering his behavior all day, but it still caught her off guard and she found herself choking on a peach as she startled, she beat her chest a few times, struggling to breathe until she was able to force it back down her throat.

“Whoops! Sorry! I need to stop sneaking up on you.” He laughed lightly as he sat his backpack down between his legs and started digging into it, by the sounds of it, the thing was almost full to bursting.

“You got your backpack.” She hummed, trying to play off the fact she'd nearly died in front of him. What a way to go, death by peach.

“Well it has my lunchbox in it… can't really forget that when my stomach feels like it's about to digest itself.” He replied, pulling out a blue lunchbox that had been completely stickerbombed with dog stickers, you could barely tell the box underneath was blue to begin with.

He unclamped the lunchbox to reveal one of the best looking packed lunches Uzi had ever seen, there was a plastic covered bowl of soup, crackers, a whole ass salad and a tuna sandwich with the crust cut off.

Because of course the crust was cut off.

“Holy crap. Who packed your lunch? A chef?” Maybe that question was a little rude, or a little loud. And Uzi found her face heating up as she heard it come out of her mouth. Why was she like this? That was such a weird question what is wrong-

“Oh.” He laughed a little nervously, and his cheeks were dusted pink “N-no that would be my older sister, Tessa, she packs all our lunches.”

“Looks way better then…this.” As she said that, she stuck a plastic spoon into the green mush that was supposed to be peas, lifted it above the tray and dropped some off the edge, the peas slid off the spoon and met the rest on the tray with a wet and disgusting slap.

“Gross.” She muttered, leaving the overcooked peas alone in favor of the sandwich. Well… at least it was hard to fuck up a sandwich.

“You wanna share? Tessa always packs too much.” He offered, giving her a genuine smile as he also eyed the peas with apprehension.

The heat on Uzi's face worsened, she'd just met this guy today, she wasn't that interesting she was sure, so what was this boys actual deal? Did he have a goth fetish? He probably had a goth fetish.

“And let you poison me or something? No way.” She grumbled, knitting her brow into a frown and looking away, she wouldn't let this rando get any closer, not until she figured him out.

“Why- Why would I poison you? Also that would imply that I'm risking eating poisoned food as well.” He looked a little confused, but also fairly amused, with one eyebrow up in curiosity but a half-smile on his face.

“Bite me. I don't want your food!” In indignation, she bit into the sandwich she'd been provided with without checking what was on it, and it gave a good crunch.

What? Oh. Oh no.

There was lettuce, fucking lettuce, it felt like thin rubber and tasted like lame water and almost instantly set off every single nope response off in her brain, she gagged, immediately covering her mouth as her eyes watered.

Of all the food aversions, why did her brain bless her with one to the texture of lettuce.

“Woah, Uzi! Are you okay?” N Immediately leaned forward, hovering but not quite placing his hand over her back and she immediately lept for a napkin and coughed her lungs out into it until the flavor and texture was out of her mouth.

She was silent for a moment before she crushed the napkin in her fist and flipped open the sandwich to glare at the offending green, which whoever had made her sandwich had piled on like it was about to go out of style, she couldn't even tell what the other ingredients were aside from mayo.

“Fucking seriously!?” She exclaimed a little louder then intended, as the sandwich mocked her, apparently one could fuck up a sandwich.

“Wow that's a lot of lettuce.” N remarked, before looking over at her with a look of concern. “Are you alright?”

“M’fine. Just don't like lettuce.” That was a severe understatement, but N didn't really need to know that.

She waved him off, grumbling, looks like it was peaches and corn for her lunch today, great. Hopefully she could scrounge for something else when she got home, wouldn’t be the first time she would have to without.

Then, without warning, there was a crustless tuna sandwich being offered to her, along with N's beaming smile, she still wanted to say no, but damn that sandwich looked good and having eaten only half her breakfast… she was hungry.

She took it from him, giving him a side eye and a mumbled “Thank you.” As she took a bite of it tentatively.

“I promise it's not poisoned.” He chuckled, turning to dig into the bowl of soup he also had, but Uzi barely heard him, she couldn't belive she was about to think this about a simple sandwich, but it was one of the best tuna sandwiches she'd ever had, it also had some kinda of rich cheese and… something else that was probably really expensive.

“Oh my God this is so good…” She said after taking several bites of it, she probably looked like a pig. But she didn't care at the moment.

“Yeah that's Tess's cooking… glad you like it!” He beamed, dunking a cracker in his soup and popping it in his mouth, then sticking his tongue out in some goofy pleased expression.

Uzi couldn't help it, he looked so silly. She snorted and giggled, something that sounded completely foreign coming out of her mouth. If anything N's smile got even wider as he was able to draw a genuine laugh out of someone.

After her little outburst, she found herself a little bit embarrassed. It wasn't often she genuinely laughed, even less in front of someone she barely knew, but something about N’s vibe was making it easy to let down her guard.

Which… was a little bit scary, and Uzi didn't know what to think about that.

Next ->

#murder drones #uzi doorman #serial designation n #nuzi #biscuitbites #n and uzi #give me a reason #Uzi's aversion is my aversion #fuck lettuce #all my homies hate lettuce

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monstersdownthepath · 7 months ago

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A collection of Fey entities

A little different from my usual "a collection of..." posts. Making statblocks isn't my forte, surprisingly; I can, but ADHD Hellbrain kicks in and typically prevents me from actually finishing them, my energy and motivation running out typically by the time I need to select feats. A few of the creatures on this list are victims of that very phenomenon, but rather than letting them languish in my drafts forever, I figure I can share what I DO have in the form of lore and some basic ideas.

So, here's a bunch of fairies!

One of them I was going to write down, the Harvest Lords, are a concept I've developed too much for me to put here; they're a group of Archfey with proper domains and Boons, and thus will get their own post. Eventually.

Warnings: There are unsanitary themes in the Brughyorb Gremlin spot, as well as Totagoda. The final entry (Rotten Crick) deals with themes of animal death and allusions to animal torture, dealing specifically with sea life.

Brughyorb Gremlins (CR 1/2 Chaotic Evil Small Fey) are small, round, filthy creatures that are almost all mouth and stomach, resembling fleshy cauldrons when they fully open their mouths and scamper about on their arms and legs, and are thus also known as Cauldron Gremlins, Burplings, and Bowlbellies. Their grinding teeth and powerful jaws are best suited for plant matter (wood is a delicacy to them), but they won't hesitate to feed on whatever carrion they manage to find, even though the majority of what they eat isn't actually digested.

Brughyorb Gremlins hold most of what they shovel into their maws in the first of their two stomachs, where their pungent gut juices fester and melt their food into noxious sludge so malodorous it's actually acidic. Slow and unbalanced even when they're empty, they lay in waiting for an innocent passerby to cross whatever hiding spot they've holed up in before leaping out with a wet shriek, and when their victim inhales in order to scream in surprise, the gremlins unleash a horrific belch directly into the victim's face. Overwhelming nausea is the most common result of such a sensory assault (though especially unlucky ones may catch the fatal Filth Fever), victims disoriented not only by the scare, but their entire world becoming overtaken by an indescribably vile stink, preventing them from fighting back as the gremlin takes whatever it wants from them and scampers off into the shadows, cackling with terrible glee.

Though they're larger than most gremlins, Brughyorb Gremlins are just as cowardly and prone to fleeing whenever someone even moderately well-armed comes along. If a foe proves especially dangerous and their burps aren't cutting it, they'll loose the contents of their stomachs to form slick, acidic pools that carry an eye-watering reek with them to trip up and potentially even kill their pursuers, either immediately through acid damage or eventually through disease. Being directly disgorged upon is an experience so profoundly unpleasant that most beings subjected to it immediately switch careers into something that will prevent this incident from ever happening again... though the fact a Brughyorb's stench is nearly impossible to scrub away and lingers for many weeks means the horrible little beasts can easily track the scent of their past victims in order to get them again.

Despite their foulness, their gut juice is an alchemical reagent highly prized by alchemists for its ability to break down and, with a bit of tinkering, ferment just about any organic matter, making them highly desirable for anyone hoping to create not just powerful acids, but potent fertilizers, fermented foods, or alcohol. Alchemists desiring the gremlin's gut juice, of course, rarely risk seeking it out themselves.

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Tintink Gremlins (CR 1 Chaotic Evil Tiny Fey) are also known as Nail Gremlins, Sharpener Pixies, Hammerlings, Nailbiters, Sharpies, and other such names. While most fey fear the touch of iron, Tintink Gremlins collect the substance in earnest despite being just as vulnerable to it as any other fey. Contact with cold iron burns and pains them, but rather than shrinking away from it, they revel in it, with many of them boldly wearing sharpened points of cold iron for the specific purpose of terrorizing and bullying other fairies, as well as protecting themselves from being bullied or terrorized by others.

Tintinks are obsessed with the collection and the sharpening of metal pins, tacks, screws, caltrops, and especially nails, pilfering such items from workshops, lumberyards, factories, and even homes. Loose items are of course the easiest for them to get, their tiny backpacks and leather aprons full to bursting with stacks of nails they sweep off workbenches, but they're also prone to using hammers, crowbars, and pliers sized for their tiny hands to wrench fasteners from whatever surface they're embedded in. Their hoarding slowly but surely destroys furniture, floors, rafters, and eventually entire structures one stolen screw at a time, fleeing only when the infested building collapses entirely.

Even when they're not destroying buildings, Tintinks are horrid menaces. Their wretched claws, coarse palms, and rough tongues can shave metal with the ease of a whetstone, and they use these to sharpen whatever points they get ahold of until they can pierce the thick leather of most common shoes or gloves... and they lay them out in preparation to do exactly that, cackling in wicked glee whenever someone impales their feet or hands on their sharps collections.

They are quite dangerous for a gremlin, capable of causing terrible wounds and even deaths if they're sufficiently motivated, but they are easily caught and removed by those who can take advantage of their fairy quirks. Their obsession with sharpening borders on an irresistible compulsion, and many Tintinks have been caught and exterminated by fey hunters leaving out piles of dull nails, bent forks, and chipped knives, which the gremlins cannot help but sit down among and work on, leaving them vulnerable to ambush.

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Steraba (CR 2 Neutral Good Diminutive Fey) are also known as Honey Fairies, Porridge Pixies, Mice Fey, and other such names. They resemble miniature humanoids with mouse-like features such as dewy eyes, rounded ears, long tails, paws, or combinations thereof (sometimes to the point they're just anthropomorphic mice), scarcely larger than the pests they resemble. Despite their appearance, Steraba are not pests themselves and are in fact one of many helpful fey known as House Spirits, and can be a genuinely helpful force in one's home... if one forgives their tendency to pilfer easily-missed items left in their field of vision.

Steraba make their homes in mouseholes inside occupied buildings, living among families of mice (never rats, they despise rats) which they take great pains to keep safe, healthy, and out of sight of the mortals with whom they share a space. Their lives are spent going on frequent, exciting 'raids' with their mice families (whom they can both communicate with and easily train), scampering unseen through homes like a spy trying to avoid being spotted by guards as they run missions such as 'read the next chapter of a book,' 'steal the button,' 'get to the grain stores,' 'slay the attic spider,' 'push out the rats,' and other such objectives. Between missions, they engage in surprisingly elaborate crafting projects; anything inedible they steal is used to decorate their tiny homes, if not by itself, then as part of a greater project. Unknowing families may have entire miniature art galleries in their walls!

Like most House Spirits, Steraba dislike being seen or acknowledged, and spending too long looking at one or talking about its existence aloud with one's family or neighbors is a sure way to drive it off completely. Even more than this, harming a mouse is a grave insult to the Mouse Pixies, who may respond by pilfering valuable or treasured items with Mage Hand, performing acts of vandalism with Prestidigitation and mundane tools, and even causing painful or humiliating household accidents against repeat and grievous offenders. Treating the mice with the calmness and respect one would treat a neighbor, however, will see a household blessed by the tiny pixies who use their talents--magical and mundane--to slay more harmful pests, drive off more malevolent fey, and provide just as well for their "big families" as they do the "small families." A Steraba can magically turn a single grain into a whole loaf of hot bread or a bowl of nutritious porridge that's filling even for a Medium-sized creature, letting them stretch the most meager of food stores for days or weeks on end, and can conjure small amounts of honey, sugar, and jam each day to assure the meals are never boring. A Steraba who has lived in a home for many years and established a positive relationship with its big family may even begin gifting the mortals with pieces of art it has made, which act as good luck charms so long as the owner takes care to say it was a 'gift from my neighbor' if they are ever asked where the trinket came from.

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The Filoxenia (CR 11 Neutral Medium Fey) are humanoid fey with golden skin and hair like stalks of wheat, so rare that it was believed there was only one for quite some time. These are fey many cautionary tales are spoken of, fey for whom the Laws of Sacred Hospitality are absolutes and generosity is the holiest of virtues. These fey take on the shapes of beggars, wanderers, and vagrants of various ancestries as they travel the world in the search of kindness, visiting the lowest muckrakers in their hovels, to the meager homes of farmers, to the mansions of nobles and royals to test their treatment of visitors. How, exactly, they perform their tests always varies, but it almost always begins with a simple request: Shelter, just for one night, and a meal of whatever the host can provide, just enough to let them see the next dawn.

The Filoxenia cannot be identified while they're in disguise, their own magic thwarting magical attempts to pierce it; the most reliable way to tell that you've encountered one is the gentle smell of honey and wheat which accompanies them, a scent they take pains to hide with mud and dusty clothes or, in rare cases, perfumes, but which they can never completely cover. Even if you know, however, it is in your best interest to play along and not allow it to sway your decision! Treating your new guest as you would any other is part of the test.

These fey exist to test mortals in their proficiency with and knowledge of the Laws of Sacred Hospitality, and each one has different means of both testing and rendering judgment. More lawful Filoxenia typically treat their task with the utmost of seriousness, and have a mental checklist they gradually move down during their stay in a mortal's home where failing even one step fails the whole test. More chaotic Filoxenia are much more likely to act as unruly guests, assessing the patience of their host, making gradually more unreasonable requests to see just how far the host is willing to go and rendering their judgment based on the host's breaking point; too soon (strict) or too late (lenient) and they fail.

The reward for passing their test is often simple but always beneficial; they may arrange for a parcel of valuable gems to be delivered to the host, repair flaws in their home, or magically enchant a tool or piece of furniture the host owns in a way which will always be useful to them. Impressing the fey may cause them to perform feats such as keeping the host's food stores full for a year and a day, blessing the host with a boon of good luck and health, grant them a useful magical item, blessing their livestock with health and virility, or introducing a helpful House Spirit into the home... but for all their potential blessings, their curses are the stuff of legends and horror stories.

Providing the bare minimum of hospitality is one thing (which earns the stingy host naught but a bowl of gruel or perhaps a new pair of socks for their trouble), but treating the Filoxenia poorly or, most damnably, rejecting their plea for mercy and assistance at one's doorstep? Such a host would be lucky if the worst thing that happened to them was the death of their livestock. An especially offended Filoxenia, such as one physically harmed by the host, can go as far as to curse an entire household to experience grave misfortune which, eventually, will lead to the death of all within in no more than a year.

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Totagoda, the Uninvited Guest (CR 13 Chaotic Evil Large Fey) is a unique fey entity, an object of both scorn and amusement in the First World and a downright blight in the Universe whenever he deigns to enter it. He is a wild combination of a bloated toad and a gluttonous goat, standing on his back two legs as a man does, with three bulbous eyes always surveying the area as he searches for his next meal, the remains of which are added to the breathtaking tapestry of reeking stains over his clothing and skin.

Totagoda is a gluttonous, wretched beast of a fey, his primary modus operandi involving taking the shape of beggars, wanderers, and vagrants, hoping to gain invitation into the home of unsuspecting mortals who do not realize just what's standing at the door. Unfortunately, as one may surmise from his title, he is quite liberal with determining what qualifies as an 'invitation' into someone's home, with even strained conversation or simply holding a door open for too long becoming cause for him to push past his unfortunate host and slip inside. Only slamming the door in his face and refusing to speak will cause him to move on. Once inside, he takes a seat at the kitchen table and bullies his hosts into providing for him, often relying on the victim's fear or good manners (or both) to prevent them from seeking aid even as he wolfs down whatever food (or anything close to food) they can provide.

Victims of the Uninvited Guest quickly find themselves eaten out of house and home as his loud demands for food grow ever more violent and unreasonable, his monstrous form gradually revealing itself as he gorges himself. By the point he's revealed as a true and literal monster, it's far too late for his host, with him threatening their belongings, their health, or their very lives if they don't comply, the foul fey holding their treasured belongings or even their family members hostage to force their hand. When all the food in the house is exhausted, victims are forced into the marketplaces where they're expected to spend all their remaining money on a further banquet for the fey. Victims who can give no more may find themselves ensorcelled and forced to provide against their will, butchering their livestock, pets, or their unfortunate neighbors to feed Totagoda, until eventually he grows bored with the current fare and snaps up his host whole and alive with his massive tongue, moving on and leaving any surviving family members nothing but a destroyed home and horrific memories.

Sending out invitations to a party or celebration when Totagoda is stalking an area is a dangerous affair, because no matter the intended celebration, one can be assured it will end in tragedy and horror; many malevolent fey have, in fact, wielded the Uninvited Guest as a weapon by gifting him invitations to the party of a rival or hated enemy. When feeling especially peckish and shameless, he will use the public nature of taverns, restaurants, markets, and other such spaces where food may be found to barge in and begin stuffing his face, using threats, charming magic, or outright mystic domination against the owners, forcing them to ignore his crimes until they become too great to rationalize even with his spellwork clouding their minds. He prefers the 'thrill' of forcing his way into the homes of helpless mortals who cannot seek aid to feed him, using public eateries as a last resort, as he despises the concept of experiencing consequences (which is why he flees the First World as much as possible; he has made many enemies among Archfey and Eldest). Despite his considerable power and unnatural resilience, Totagoda is a coward and a bully, and at the first sign of any trouble (even trouble he could easily deal with) he is more likely to flee than fight, flinging his disease-ridden, acidic dung and unleashing nauseating belches at any pursuers until he can finally escape.

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That Old and Rotten Crick, (CR 15 Neutral Evil Medium Fey), also known as Rotten Old Crick (and variants thereof), the Devil Fisherman, the Demon Angler, the Barnacle, Captain Hook, and a thousand other names with varying levels of fear or vitriol, is among one of the strangest denizens of the First World. Appearance-wise, he is a humanoid being, though not a hint of true flesh can be seen through the coverall-clothing of an angler that he wears; what isn't covered by clothes is studded with barnacles or coral growth. His vest is adorned by countless hooks, flies, whatever equipment he wishes to keep on hand rather than in his beaten up but magical tacklebox (the Artifact known as the Tomb of Karaphas), and extra parts for his Artifact-level fishing rod and primary weapon, the Tidepool Reaper. His face (if he has one) perpetually hidden in the shadow of his fishing cap, and he speaks with the smooth cadence of a devil and maniacal purpose of a daemon.

Nearly an Archfey in terms of power, Rotten Crick does not seek influence and remains outside of whatever political nonsense the others have going on... though his actions have a great many Archfey and even one of the Eldest furious with his very existence. Rotten Crick, you see, despises all life in the sea, especially the lives of any creature which could be called a 'fish.' His absolute hatred for all sealife has earned him a many enemies among waterway guardians and sea-dwelling fey, but just as many allies, though not for the reasons one may think; many stories circulate across many worlds of a mysterious angler approaching a fisherman or sailor with promises of rods, reels, baits, hooks, and nets which will assuredly catch enough fish to feed not only them, but their families and the families of their neighbors as well. Indeed, Rotten Crick has no animosity towards most mortal life, and is actually quite amicable, willing to help any down-on-their-luck man on the coast fish enough to live, or even make a business! There are rare stories of him going out of his way to save fishermen whose lives are endangered by the sea... but it is all for the singular goal of eliminating as many fish as possible and inspiring others to do the same. He will sit with other mortal anglers for many hours, fishing alongside them and making occasional, casual conversation, but anyone who knows what they're dealing with is advised to keep it casual, because any extended conversation with him will gradually turn towards alarmingly enthusiastic diatribes on how terribly fish suffer when hooked and dragged from the water, or disturbingly thorough explanations of the many deaths caused by sea beasts all over the world, in order to justify their torture and extermination.

He doesn't even eat any of his catches, enraged by the very idea of putting a fish in his body. If there is no one nearby to gift them to, he either abandons them on the shore to rot or, if feeling especially spiteful, slices them apart with fillet knives and hooks and leaves the disassembled bodies for the birds. He holds no love for creatures he calls "betrayers," which includes dolphins, whales, and seals, such unfortunates earning swift and terrible ends by his hands. Intelligent sea beings, especially merfolk, are in danger of torturous disassembly while still alive, as he draws sadistic joy from hearing their cries.

Why, precisely, he harbors such irrational hatred for sealife is something he has never explained to anyone who's asked, and likely never will. At the very least, any grand and far-reaching plans he may actually have to depopulate the seas of Golarion are slow going, if they're happening at all, held back by the sadism and hatred which drives him; it has been explained to him many times (primarily by daemons) that he could efficiently depopulate the seas by way of pollution, poison, and industrial expansion, but his hate is so great that he seems to prefer the more visceral, personal approach.

#original concepts

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aching-tummies · 4 months ago

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Too full to Sleep

RP-Starter: "Oooh…owww…I ate too much and now my stomach's too full to sleep. M-My tummy really huuuurts!"

Context under the cut.

Workplace closes at 10PM and getting home on transit means that I'm lucky to get home before 11PM. Made it home around 10:50PM tonight and was ready to just crash. Apparently, members of my household were up late watching the Olympics and decided that 11PM is the perfect time for instant ramen for everyone. For a lot of Asian families, 'instant Ramen' is a process--big pot with everything going in depending on cooking time and such. Being the last one home, going off to take a shower, and putting my stuff away meant that I was last one served. No biggie. Unfortunately, 'last one served' when it comes to the big pot of ramen means finishing the pot--everyone else had their fill so the rest was mine to deal with.

Ramen doesn't refrigerate well--there's no "leftover ramen for tomorrow". Once the noodles touch the broth, it's on a time-limit before it becomes a soggy rue. And I was raised not to waste food. Also, Ramen is delicious. Not healthy for you…but totally addictive…so…yeah…I ended up eating as much as I could stomach. Tragically, I had to pass on the last third of the broth (which was roughly half a litre's worth) because my stomach felt like it was going to explode--so densely packed with noodles and veggies and whatever else everyone sought to throw in the pot.

I didn't get home until 10:50PM and my entire body was sore from 12 hours on my feet--out and about (only 8-9 of which was paid, depending on how you count). So, naturally, even if I was hungry, my digestive tract had long since tapped out and decided to turn in.

It's roughly two hours later as I write this and I've been tossing and turning for the last half an hour. I still feel ridiculously full. It's worse now 'cuz the food has managed to spread out. It's not a sharp--"imminent rupture" kind of ache like it was earlier, when the dense glut of noodles was crammed into my stomach-organ. Now, things have moved along just a tad. My stomach-organ is still uncomfortably crammed full…but my intestines are now also getting packed up. My stomach really hurts

I guess I didn't have enough broth to generate any grumbles or to help the dense mass of noodles and other stuff through. There are no gurgles. No gases. I feel an achy pressure under my diaphragm--but it's definitely not gas--there's literally nothing to burp out, no matter how hard I try. It's all just noodles, greens, and wonton and fishball and whatever everyone else threw in there while I was showering.

As I type this, I keep pausing to run my palms over my belly. I haven't been noticeably stuffed in too long for me to remember. I swear, my stomach is visibly distended. If not visually, there is definitely a tactile difference. I can't even remember the last time my stomach felt so firm under my palms. It's so, so, so dense. Ugh…I think I really over-did it. My poor belly HURTS!

Seriously--send me your best responses. What would you do to my ridiculously achy belly? I'm really, really, really hoping hands on my belly is involved because it's too full and too achy for just my own two hands to cover it all.

#tummy ache kink #tummy ache #stomach ache #stuffed tummy #tummy RP-starter

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yautjalover · 3 months ago

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Anyone trying to claim that parts of the Yautja fan guide were stolen are false.

The former contributor who’s claiming this is leaving out the part where those of us originally working on it put our heads together and agreed on basic facts about the Yautja’s biology based upon evidence provided to us by films, novels, and comics.

When this individual left the group project, after trolling the server (including my own), screaming in ALL CAPS that they wanted nothing to do with the project at all and creating unnecessary drama simply for immature entertainment, the remaining members went back to the drawing board. This individual went on to bypass my server ban by creating fake accounts and enlisting a cohort in helping to troll members not involved with the project.

Not only did they harass us for months, but they joined under multiple burner accounts and I had to add security bots to prevent further stalking. It created utter chaos in a place that is supposed to be a safe space.

Additionally, this person dug up my disabled grandmother’s Facebook and posted irl pictures of me in my discord where they proceeded to fat shame me and lost my grandmother’s address for an entire server to see.

They also said that they wanted nothing to do with the project, wanted no credit, and that we “aren’t allowed” to have our own Biology section because they wanted to post it on their Tumblr. Since they have not been involved since early last year, and continued to hound and make defamatory remarks about us, we still went ahead and did the section on our own.

We were going to finish this regardless of their involvement.

The only individual who could tell us to stop is 20th Century Fox and Disney themselves—not some person on the other side of the world with the maturity of a elementary school student.

Fuck them, to be honest. 😂

We consulted a few acquaintances with medical degrees and used our own knowledge, along with the internet at our disposal, to come to pretty much the same conclusions.

Anyone with grade school knowledge of biology would reach similar results since Yautja are so humanoid.

We went off the assumption that since they’re human-like, then they most likely have similar functioning organs. Living beings have similar systems, even if they all look different. You have the respiratory, endocrine, nervous, muscular, skeletal, and cardiac systems, so it’s not stealing or whatever since this is science.

This portion has been written in simple terms, and not medical jargon, so it is more accessible and easy to digest.

I’m sure if someone wanted to read Grey’s Anatomy, they would choose so themselves, not slog through a Predator version of the medical textbook in fanfiction. 🤣

Honestly, fanfiction isn’t owned by any individual, and this guide falls under those laws that allow us to write them. I and Leania put our hard work into tossing and redoing this section with our own awesome brains along with helpful input by some friendly folks.

Here’s where they said they wanted no part of the project, even though they said later in the same message, in All Caps, that they would post this particular portion anyway, contradicting their initial statement.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk. I don’t fuck with liars.

#yautja #predator #yautjalover #fanfic #predator franchise

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live-laugh-legolas · 4 months ago

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hi!! if you're still taking requests I'd love to requests headcanons of the fellowship with a reader with adhd?

(if you need pointers of specific traits to include plz feel free to message me!)

thanks so much!! love your stuff :)

I tried to include spectrum of traits and just general experiences with adhd, but I definitely do steer towards my own experiences a bit. I actually found this one a little difficult so I don’t consider it my best, so I apologize.

The fellowship (+Faramir) x adhd!reader

Aragorn:

-Gives lots of gentle reminders and subtle pushes

-He is very good about showing you while explaining something so it’s easier to understand

-Because sometimes just being told goes in one ear and out the other or just doesn’t even make its way into your brain

-He will listen to you ramble on about a hyper-fixation with no complaint

-Seriously he will always listen and never tone you out to be “background noise” (damn I need an Aragorn in my life lol)

Legolas:

-I don’t think he knows much about it but he learns fast and is very perceptive

-If you are very hyperactive and talk a lot he is super patient; and probably a little entertained

-I think that elves could be prone to sensory overload sometimes if they are really stressed, so he knows how to help if you experience this

-Will take you somewhere quiet and will give you something to hold to fidget with

Gimli:

-He may think your leg bouncing or fidgeting is done because you are stressed; which maybe you are; so he will try and calm you down either way

-Honestly I think he might not really do anything different, like he just is like “welp that’s y/n”

-But not in a dismissive way you know?

-If you drum your fingers a lot he will join in and create a little song

-He also isn’t bothered if you just talk to fill silence, even if you are just kind of narrating the obvious (I do this and am always told it’s because I must like the sound of my own voice, but he would never think this)

-He may be a little concerned if you just zone out randomly

-Will wave his hand in front of your face like “dude, you alright?”

Boromir:

-I think he may not be the most helpful in terms of organization

-But he likes to help you get some energy out so you feel less jittery

-He also isn’t bothered if you interrupt him, because honestly he does the same thing

-He understands that you don’t mean it to be rude, it’s just sometimes your mouth works before your brain can stop you

Frodo:

-He is so patient

-Feels bad when you are stressed and will help you with out standing tasks like cleaning so you can focus on whatever it is you need to

-He’s also really good at explaining things in a way that is easily digestible

-Like either very simplified or using comparisons to things you enjoy or are currently hyper-fixated on

Sam:

-Very productive himself so he probably doesn’t initially notice if you aren’t

-However he will notice if you are forgetful about self care

-Did you forget to eat? Sam has a biscuit ready for you and he will make you eat it

-He will also help you make and keep a schedule if that is something you struggle with

Merry:

-I think Pippin could have adhd so Merry has a good understanding about it

-He will make simple tasks into games to keep your focus

-This also helps to make tasks feel less daunting

-He will also be completely honest with you if something is becoming a problem

-“you can’t forget to turn off the stove because you remembered you needed to send a letter”

Pippin:

-I wouldn’t be surprised if he also had adhd

-I imagine he will start a bunch of tasks but never finish any of them

-You two can be dysfunctional together

-So either nothing gets done when you two are together, or you both hyper focus and will clean the entire house in a few hours

Gandalf:

-He is really good at telling when you are overwhelmed

-Like if a task feels too daunting or you get choice paralysis

-He will break things down to simplify whatever it is you are struggling with, and will aid you in getting started (because let’s be honest, just starting is the hardest part)

-He will never let you get down on yourself for things you can’t control; “you are not lazy, you are overwhelmed”

Faramir:

-This sweet man would be super supportive and helpful

-He may feel a little overbearing sometimes but it’s just because he is worried and doesn’t want you to feel dejected or insecure

-If you ever feel overwhelmed he is right there

-He also is super smart and patient so he doesn’t mind if he needs to re-explain something or if he has to repeat that same thing multiple times over time

-Won’t judge you if you forget something and need to ask again (I always ask what words mean even if I have been told a million times and have googled it)

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr preferences #lotr headcanons #legolas #lotr fellowship #aragorn #boromir #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #merry and pippin #meriadoc brandybuck #peregrin took #faramir #gimli #gandalf #the lord of the rings #lotr x y/n #adhd

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eatmangoesnekkid · 4 months ago

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Accidental Post Deletion —4 Parts

Part 1

Ya’ll are asking incredible questions in my inbox which helps me to refine what I write and teach to support other women in the future. I am taking a week or two off these apps but please keep your questions coming mm. For now I leave you with a quote by Nicole Daedone. I just finished two books in her series “The Eros Sutras” —even if you are like me, and are non-hetero—it’s definitely a gate opener no matter your sexual desire. But if you are heterosexual, how lovely, because her books speaks more from that lens. FYI—This is a long post!

“….This is the type of sex where it feels as if she and her partner are possessed by something deeper from the bowels of the earth, something from her own body and consciousness that comes through with voraciousness and a self-less benevolent agenda. Both parties can let go entirely without feeling like the other can’t fiend for or handle themselves. This is a very uncommon channel for a woman to open but when she can and does, it is a sign that she has built a high level of power.” —Nicole Daedone

My God. I don’t read books that are similar in coding to my own forthcoming books but decided to pick up her work and read them in two days! Yes Nicole all of this —that’s it ! I highly recommend her books to you loved ones but not because I agree with everything she writes(nor do I need to in order to love it/something) but mmmm I do adore it alll —so good !

I speak about sexual desire often because it is the most valuable and powerful resource received from truly living connected to our body that affects our creativity (health and wealth) in clandestine ways that this world wouldn’t dare speak about. And because we live in a female body that contains an organ whose only purpose is to generate pleasure, we were divinely architected to feel arousal energy simply because we feel the warm sun on our face, taste yummy homemade food on our tongue or see our lover walking towards us in the distance. In addition, to live pleasurable everyday lives (which is not to same thing as being pleasure-seeking in a hedonistic way or addicted to peak states from plant medicines) has to include the ability to repair and regenerate our tissues through skillfully mastering the “darker” aspects like our ego, thoughts, beliefs, and unconscious fears, shadows, and triggers, and sexual creative life force energy we were taught to distrust, shun, and repress but actually permits our energy to flow better in brighter healthier thriving ways, from darkness into light. In other words, you will be 80 year olds and deeply self-regenerative and alive and thriving in your tissues, you see.

But I have to give it to you from behind in plain layman’s terms so that you can fully grok what I’m conveying. You should feel the desire to want to fuck for no reason at all even if celibate and going on your morning walk in the sun on a beautiful day and not only feel desire when your lover is sucking your breasts. “Feeling delicious in your female body” not because, but just cause— is the key to winning at this game we are playing. Feeling good, however, doesn’t bypass experiencing denser emotions like yearning, anger, loneliness, or sadness but welcomes them, whatever is true, without you needing to run away and push them down. Regeneration is only possible with the refined skills of alchemy and integration, where base metal turns into gold wings, you see.

Like me, I know many of you are creating your own new body and life narratives, even if they are as simple as waking up on Monday mornings slowly and rested without an alarm clock and doing what the fuck you want to do with your day, no longer pigeonholed into following the status quo outdated script that looks like …..

wake up with an alarm and rush off to work; sit in traffic with a compressed spine; eat crappy cafeteria food at lunch that messes up your digestion (which impacts your mental clarity and ability to merge with quantum information (divine energy) and procure and digest new narratives); come home exhausted because you felt you had to give all your life force in exchange for money to men at the head of a corporation who could care less about your wellness; and unbox a microwave meal because you are too tired to chop for real nutrition (or to make love with your Beloved). Then cap off the night by watching TV until it’s time for bed and do the same thing the next day.

This is the pimp-prostitute archetypal pattern of a typical Western household and as Sylvia Plath alluded to “you can’t feel reality, only a weariness and longing…” where the only solutions are addictions and coping mechanisms to numb your body from feeling and detecting its own lack of fulfillment and accompanying heartbreak. And I want you to know that I have been there before when I worked as a corporate accountant in my 20s —that’s why I can write about it so well. I had the same common, conditioned Westernized struggles. In some way, we all do, until we wake up in this game and get free.

I have lived in a state of constant and deliberate creation since I was in my late 20s and started studying/integrating the mind-biology connection and witnessed how the quality and impact of our future/creations are influenced from the inside out by the quality of our mind and health. It is also why I have lived a quality of life over the last 15 years that most people can’t fathom or believe is possible. If we are to be artists, teachers, dancers, mentors, athletes, entrepreneurs, etc. , we must amplify our sexual energy in order to create in epic ways because this is exactly what billion dollar corporations do when they extract nearly every drop of life force from its employees that not even a six-figure monthly salary could ever make up for. If you do work in a corporation, how lovely but you must also be so strategic and masterful in how you experience your job every single day like a martial artist in order to not get sucked in as a pawn in their system and as a result, too tired and drained to do the magical and miraculous with your own divine-given energy or LIFE or too fearful to consider other possibilities beyond working hard day in and day out for someone until you are 60 years old or become unwell. You must be strategic in not giving all your life force away to the company you work for every single day you log into their system.

What my first book “You Look Like Something Blooming” modeled is that we can create sustainably and live beautifully in atypical ways. We can create imperfectly and even have typos, yet our work/book still massively sells on its own 15 years later without advertisements. And no one really knows our secret sauce because it all happens so calmly, quietly, and humbly through word-of-mouth without our need to track it or shout in order for it to be seen. That’s the level of freedom, resourcefulness and deliberate creation we must stimulate passively in different ways in this new earth.

It is not enough to merely create something —you must create what has its own pulse and heartbeat and can drive and influence this world without you having to exhaust yourself by convincing others to purchase. That means that you have to 1. open up the congestion in your body with care, stretches, yoga, breath and consistency. 2. Hold, amplify, and channel your sexual desire. 2. Reconcile your fear programming around sex and have really passionate sex if you are not celibate or in a period of fasting and channel your sexual energy into higher frequencies as a way of life 3. Then boom —you create soulfully at astronomical levels.

Part 2

There is so much power hidden in the depths of the female body that wants to come through and heal and advance us all and this world. Being in Milano and drinking organic juices, eating fruit and reading The Eros Sutras on relationships and intimacy in warm sun on a balcony with very little blue light screen time has been uplifting and soul-opening. Healing, mental clarity and manifestation are simply the release of deep congestion in the body (often inherited ancestral imprints or religious, cultural, or social conditioning and programming and the accompanying ideas of who we “think” we are).

Basically it is a ferocious ego death that happens over and over again in different ways and at different times. As the congestion releases in increments overtime, now you start to rebirth and truly feel, sense, intuit, move, inhale deeper and open your hips, back, etc., with a little more ease than before, experience miracles, and create at a higher level in other ways as a result, no matter what that creation looks like for you. As souls living in human bodies, the success we desire in life always begin in the liberation of the female body. Those are my words/sensations I write here that moved through me after reading.

I was a little down in the dumps before coming to Milano. I am spending part of my vacation alone in the quiet doing nothing but reading, feeling, stretching every few hours, and making my homemade purple sea moss and aloe soap topless in panties in 90 degree weather. Even though my preferred state is butt-nakedness, there is a large window the tenants across from me have a clear view to see inside and I refuse to close ‘not narry’ curtain or window. I am also unwinding some old stories I continue to grip hold of but need to let go of as my next step right action. All of this may feel strange and self-indulgent to some people. This says to me that western normative culture is not only difficult to be healthy in but also toxic to how we think, perceive, listen, and create from living in cultures whose neural and structural frameworks are “go go go…just do it…fuck your body and your feelings. ”

I read the other day how women are pulling back from the workforce on average 15 years earlier than men because of their debilitating moon time and menopausal symptoms effecting their hormones, libido, and quality of health. In other words, we either change or the earth forces us. 🫀🫀🫀🫀

part 3

youtube

My main critique of Nicole’s work: if I could edit my comment I would say my eros is “not ONLY” about my attraction to same gender but about my embodied relationship to my divine energy.” Gender is so tricky and complicated to me because I have never felt that any of my female lovers have been the same gender as me—two females are far too vast in their frequencies to be the same—we are wholly multidimensional and diverse like our individual gut microbiology. I truly believe it is up to us to clear these kind of flaccid miscalculations and computations on what it means to be a sexually liberated woman and wake up to the erotic power in our hearts, hands/fingers, etc …but I digress 🥰🕯️🤲🏿

Part 4 And lastly but most importantly —you must kill that archaic shame living within your body parts. This was my very first time practicing this choreo and the teacher called me up to be a lead and I accepted without hesitation. What I learned in this class is that I don’t have a lot of shame living within my body parts. I will high-tail myself right on up to the front of a dance class if I am called up there and smile every bit of the way even though I have no idea what I’m doing or what the steps are. This was a liberation dance for me. I hung in there like a prayer flag, smiled my ass off and even sucked my finger because I was feelin’ the light of love from shaking so much! 🕯️💡⚡️ 🤣 —India

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A post shared by India Ameye Author +Female Mentor+ Soft Life Pioneer Since 2009 (@india.ameye)

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#Youtube #Spotify #Instagram

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abbyslev · 1 year ago

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okay but hange and reader going on a double date w erwin and levi 🤭🤭 ERURI 🔛🔝🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

𝑫𝑶𝑼𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑺- 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹 & 𝑬𝑹𝑼𝑹𝑰

A/N: OH EM GEE GUYS i GUESSSSSSS🙄🙄🙄 i wrote this for my totally not sweet kind gorgeous sexy beautiful kind funny hilarious angelic friend who i love so much🙄🙄 TOTALLY NOT🙄🙄 anyways I ENJOYED WRITING THIS SM LIKE UGH ITS SO CUTE I HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYS REEEEAAAAGGGG

double dates are A NEED

either a fancy dinner or a bar

erwin always always ALWAYS pays

hange reaches for the check and erwin just slides his card in there

you four alternate at which restaurant

you guys never ever run out of topics to talk about!!

you guys having baking dates

erwin and levi def have a bakery together, so they try and teach you and hange

hange ends up messing things up and levi’s like “ykw you just watch for the sake of my sanity”

THE TREATS COME OUT YUMMY

YOU GUYS GO ON HIKESSSS!!

hange and you know lots of good trails

erwin’s def the type of person to bring 100 water bottles, snacks, bug spray, bandaids, ALL OF IT

levi is complaining about his shoes getting dirty

hange picked up random bugs and erwin’s like “oh ok! interesting… set it down.”

“he’s not gonna hurt you, eyebrows” hange rolled their eyes smfh

beach dates omg they are the cutest

again, here comes erwin with everything in his house

hange splashes everyone while levi’s like “:|”

can’t even lie erwin made some BANGER sandwiches

you told hange to let it digest before going back to swimming

“nothings gonna happen you’re just overthinking it!” hange fired back

also them in the car on the ride home “Y/NNNN MY STOMACH HURTSSS!!”

ooo late night homemade dinner nights

erwin and levi bring the best local wine and steak

you make stuffed baked potatoes and hanges just sitting there like :D

oooof the topics hall get into are crazy

from the deepest darkest theories to hange’s crazy thoughts

you guys are so different, you and hange hold hands and hange likes to eat off of your plate as to where erwin and levi sit by each other and keep pda to a minimum LMAO

hange def knows a place where cherry blossom trees bloom every year

hange takes you guys there and you make a picnic basket

levi and erwin enjoy it very much :)

they had a moment where levi just laid on erwin’s lap and erwin ran his fingers through his hair

hange was def trying to climb trees or something

DOUBLE DATE VACATIONS OMG you guys love traveling together

erwin def organizes the trip

hange knows a bunch of different languages so you guys can basically go anywhere and they know it

nothing is ever a secret between you four

erwin is a gossip FIEND

hange and levi aren’t that into the gossip so they usually merge into their own conversations

wine tasting is def a need for erwin

levi prefers his tea tasting but he’ll do whatever for his husband I GUESSS

double dates are a need no matter what, plus what’s better than getting four friends together ?? NOTHING

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naturallyteal · 7 months ago

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A dream fanfic by NaturallyTeal ~ 8th Day

Summary:

The Secret Dream Diary of a Good Omens fan (anonymous, he) who contracted a severe case of the fandom-typical brain rot from watching S1 & S2 too often, reading too much fanfic on AO3, and spending altogether too much time engaging on tumblr, digesting gifs, fanart and meta.

He dreams about Good Omens every night.

Short dreams, daily.

~~~

8th Day: Cluedo

I dreamed I was on a scavenger hunt on the set of the Edinburgh cemetery in 1827, looking for the next *Clue*. I was lost and had no idea what the next *Clue* must look like, what it could be. Neil’s voice was suddenly in my head, sounding like Discworld’s Death: “ASK JIM!” He boomed. I looked up at the statue of Gabriel, and he wasn’t holding a cross. He was holding a board game, still in it’s box.

It looked like Cluedo, but it was called Innuendo.

[previous day] [next day]

I’m planning to post one _short_ dream daily, for 20 days. If you like, subscribe on AO3!

There’s also a “mailing list” (tagging in the replies) here on tumblr, let me know if you want on it! 😇😎

Credit: This dream was probably inspired by the following metas about Gabriel‘s statue with and without the cross:

https://www.tumblr.com/fuckyeahgoodomens/746643409358487552

https://www.tumblr.com/youryurigoddess/746598664424865792/gabriels-missing-cross

https://www.tumblr.com/kimberleyjean/735817555656261632/gabriels-ineffable-statue

#whatever i like best #good omens fanfiction #good omens brainrot #good omens dreams #daily #shorties #gabriel good omens #jim good omens

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valtsv · 3 months ago

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But I have promises to keep—and miles to go before I sleep.

I couldn't stop thinking about VAL listening to Shrue's radio speech when she confronts Carson, and wondering just how many times she listened back to that recording while waiting for him. Did it bring her some comfort, to listen to someone else's last words as she waited to speak her own? Did she feel a little less alone, keeping company with another ghost that hasn't realised it's already dead?

#🐉#the silt verses #VAL thesiltverses #VALshrue #<- if you want it to be #jart #i wish the radio audio looked better but i spent multiple hours reformatting it before giving up. so whatever.#(<- lowkey digesting his own organs about it)#anywayyyyyy this particular piece kinda possessed me i havent done anything for a week but think about it #most of the blood does not belong to my darling girl. but she is dying here. so nosebleed of doom it is.#the ear also because of my hc that they bolted her earpiece to her. and she ripped it out in the previous episode.#and her prayer mark wounds have reopened. because i wanted to really give the impression that shes falling apart at this point.#the red square is both a symbol of bloodshed and also limitation. and because i couldnt think of a good background.

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philomenie · 3 months ago

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KILLING ME SOFTLY

Hitman!Jolly - Part 1

CN murder, violence, sex, organized crime, blood, angst, 18+

@jilliemiw86 @nojoyontheburn @reyadawn @dsireland86

TEN

Jolly is startled when his cell phone, which he still has in his pocket, buzzes and vibrates. Olivia sighs restlessly in his arms.

Damn.... If this becomes a habit now, he thinks to himself angrily and looks at the display.

Kolja.... FUCK!!!

Jolly clenches his jaw, it's the middle of the night, but if he doesn't pick up, he'll make himself look suspicious.

As he carefully tries to pull away from Olivia, she claws at him again.

Jolly is torn.

Damn, it'll have to be like this, he thinks to himself and accepts the call.

“Jolly.... Artur has disappeared, including two of his men!” Kolja opens the conversation bluntly.

“And what am I supposed to do now?” he asks back.

“Track him down!” Artur hisses back.

“Listen... you've got enough men to look for him, what am I supposed to do? Besides, my head is pounding, I'm exhausted and tired!” Jolly explains as calmly as he can.

“If my father wants you to be my right-hand man, then act like it!” growls Kolja.

You pathetic little wanker, Jolly thinks angrily, now you're coming at me like this!

“Just tell me what you want from me!” sighs Jolly.

“THAT YOU FIND ARTUR!” Kolja roars.

The noise wakes Olivia up and she stares in horror at Jolly, who immediately puts his index finger over his mouth, signaling her to be quiet. Wide-eyed, she nods.

“In the middle of the night....” growls Jolly, ”Have all his whores searched, he'll already be holed up in one of them...”

“That's what's happening!” Kolja grumbles.

“He can't have vanished into thin air!” sighs Jolly, ”Who was the last person to see him?”

“My father.....” explains Kolja.

“And nobody else after that?” asks Jolly.

“No, he stormed out of his office and nobody saw him after that!” growls Kolja.

Jolly nods with relief, that's not bad... at least that way no one can link him to Artur.

“Maybe he needs to digest this first, got drunk somewhere, stayed with one of his bitches.... Or ran off somewhere.... I don't know, I don't know him.” Jolly sighs, ”Maybe he just wants to be left alone... and that's why he can't be found.”

“Hmm” Kolja seems to be thinking, ”I'll have my men search everything anyway.....”

“Do that... and if he doesn't turn up straight away, you can decide whether to keep looking for him or give him time to turn up on his own!” Jolly tells Kolja.

“Hmm,” grumbles Kolja, not entirely convinced.

“Whatever you decide.... I'd like to go back to sleep now, as I said I'm finished and my head is buzzing!” urges Jolly.

“All right.....” Kolja interjects, ”But if Artur doesn't turn up....”

“I'll look for him.....” sighs Jolly, ”Give him time... it's not the first time he's overreacted!”

“Hmm” Kolja nods reluctantly, ”You're right.....”

“Can I hang up now?” Jolly wants to know.

“Yes.... But come here tomorrow... my father wants to discuss something with both of us!” Kolja interjects before hanging up.

Olivia, who has overheard every word, freezes at the last sentence, buries her face in his chest and shakes her head. When Jolly puts his cell phone on the bedside table, she begs him, “Don't go there.....”

“I have to, min Liv!” sighs Jolly, holding her tightly against him, ”I have to keep everything the same or Semjon will get suspicious... he's smart and dangerous. Kolja is a snake and no less dangerous... I mustn't give them any cause for suspicion!”

“I can't stand it!” Olivia sobs, ”How am I supposed to deal with the fact that you could be killed at any moment!”

“I won't be killed!” declares Jolly sternly, ”I'll take care of myself, don't worry about that. It's worked out quite well so far!”

Olivia looks at him in despair, gently stroking the injuries on his face, “I wouldn't say that....” she swallows with tears in her eyes.

Jolly kisses her tenderly, “I promise you, the nightmare will end soon!”

Olivia snuggles up to him, “I don't know how I'm going to survive the days until then.....”

“One day at a time!” whispers Jolly harshly, ”I'll contact Doi and tell him time is of the essence! Maybe I can speed it up with that!”

Olivia nods and presses herself even closer to him, “I can't lose you...” she whispers barely audibly and Jolly's heart tightens, pure happiness pulses through his veins and he feels pure security.

“Happy with your car?” smiles Doi as Jolly approaches him.

“Hmm,” he nods and points to Doi's shot ear with a nod of his head, ”All good with that?”

Doi looks at Jolly lurkingly, then nods, “By now yes... I could have done without it though!”

“Better than a bullet between the eyes....” smiles Jolly.

“Quite.....” nods Doi, ”So, here we are.... What have you got for me!”

“How soon can you get me and Liv passports... guarantee a safe escape?” Jolly wants to know from him.

“I can do that within a week.... Where are you going?” asks Doi.

“Away from the Russian mafia's sphere of influence and preferably also from the Yakuza or any other organization!” explains Jolly.

Doi laughs, “I didn't know you were a dreamer!”

Jolly looks at him calmly.

“Very well.... Think about where you want to go.... My private plane is ready and waiting!” Doi nods, ”But if you want to start somewhere new, you'll need some start-up capital!”

“True... I also need papers for Liv with a new name and dates. She's a doctor... I don't want her to have to give up her job for me when she's already lost everything!” explains Jolly.

“Hmm a doctor....” Doi seems to consider, then looks Jolly straight in the eye, “If I'm honest, I could really use a man of your caliber.... A female doctor wouldn't be bad either!”

“Forget it!” growls Jolly, glaring at Doi, ”That's not on the table!”

“Hmm” smiles Doi, ”Anyway, my offer stands!”

“No need!” grumbles Jolly.

“Well then, WHAT have you got for me?” Doi then wants to know.

“Your two moles.....” Jolly begins and tells Doi the names of the traitors, causing his face to darken instantly.

“Fuck!” he hisses, ”They'll regret this!”

Jolly simply shrugs his shoulder.

“Anything else?” Doi wants to know.

“Semjon.... He's dying!” Jolly explains calmly.

Doi's eyebrow goes up, “Oh!”

“Brain tumor, he doesn't have long, hence his attempts to secure everything for Kolja!” adds Jolly.

“And then the asshole starts stressing me out?” laughs Doi, shaking his head in amusement.

“I didn't say he was acting rationally!” explains Jolly.

“Do you know how long he has left?” Doi wants to know.

“No!” Jolly shakes his head.

“Kolja.... is he a problem?” Doi follows up.

“He's not his father, definitely not.... A weakling, a snake at the same time. I'd be more worried about his mother!” explains Jolly.

“Inga?” Doi asks, puzzled.

“Inga!” nods Jolly, ”She pulls the strings in the background. Semjon listens to her, even though she never appears in public. Kolja too. If you want to hurt the Russian mafia, take Inga out after Semjon's death!”

“Hmm,” Doi nods thoughtfully, ”who else is a potential danger?”

“Oleg, Semjon's right hand man!” nods Jolly.

“What about his daughter, Nadja?” Doi wants to know.

Jolly shakes his head, “Leave Nadja out of it!”

“Oh!” Doi's eyebrow goes up again, ”Then it's true that you're fucking her, you're having an affair... what does your Liv say?”

“Had!” Jolly clarifies, ”She's about to get engaged to Sergei Ivanov.....”

“Then she's a potential threat too!” states Doi coldly.

“She has ambitions!” admits Jolly reluctantly.

“A woman with ambitions....” nods Doi, ”More dangerous than many a man!”

“Hmm” nods Jolly with a bad feeling in his stomach, he doesn't want to hand Nadja over to Doi, ”If you want a reliable ally, then Nadja is the one for you. She's smart, she knows how to assess the situation. Help her take over the organization instead of Kolja. That would mean peace and you'd benefit from each other!”

Doi ponders, “An interesting idea... I'll think about it!” he explains.

“Don't think too long.... I had a conversation with Semjon and Kolja yesterday. They're planning an all-out attack on all other organizations that Semjon sees as a threat. Pure idiocy!” adds Jolly.

He has to think about the conversation and he still feels sick about what it would mean for everyone. Chaos, suffering, dozens of deaths... especially innocent people would be dragged into it, killed.

“Semjon has become unpredictable!” snorts Doi, to which Jolly nods in agreement.

“Another thing, Kolja's going crazy because Artur's gone.....” Jolly grumbles.

“Hmm, I'll think of something.....” smiles Doi.

Jolly raises his eyebrow questioningly.

“I'm not casting suspicion on you....” Doi placates Jolly, ”But I think Kolja needs to know for sure what happened to his man!”

“Hmm!” nods Jolly darkly.

“Good... I'll take care of everything and let you know when I have your papers.... As for the start-up capital, is a million enough?” smiles Doi.

Jolly stares at him in disbelief.

“More?” Doi wants to know.

“Um... no.” Jolly swallows, dumbfounded.

“Your information was important to me... but the fact that you helped Nicholas escape is worth more than gold to me. He's like a brother to me! I'm very grateful to you for that... and that you didn't hit me!” Doi explains seriously.

“Hmm” nods Jolly, not knowing what to say to that.

“Well... and if you change your mind, I'll always have a place for you with me!” smiles Doi and says goodbye.

Jolly feels like a mountain is falling off his shoulders..... It's working, he thinks to himself, it's really working! Soon I'll be free and can start a normal life with Liv.

Olivia puts her hair up with trembling hands, breathing in and out deeply.

Jolly steps behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, tenderly kissing the junction of her neck and shoulder, “Are you sure you're ready to go back to work?” he asks anxiously.

Olivia shrugs her shoulders, “I can't stay at home any longer.... We're permanently understaffed anyway!”

“Hmm,” he grumbles and kisses her temple, ”I'm still not comfortable! I'd rather have you here where I can protect you!”

Olivia turns to him so that she can look directly at him, “You can hardly keep an eye on me 24/7!” she smiles.

“I can!” he kisses her on the lips, ‘And you can believe me that I won't let you out of my sight for a second!’ he grimly grumbles, ”Something like what happened to Artur will never happen again, I swear to you. No one will ever harm a hair on your head again!”

“It's OK, Joakim!” whispers Olivia, putting her hand on his cheek, ”It wasn't your fault!”

“Oh yes, it was!” whispers Jolly harshly.

“Please.... Let's not talk about it anymore!” swallows Olivia, ”I just want to forget it!”

“All right....” nods Jolly, still feeling miserable, ”I'll drive you to the hospital and pick you up again! I can also sit in the emergency room...” he suggests.

“No, that's not necessary, really!” Olivia smiles and snuggles up to him.

“Hmm,” mumbles Jolly, not entirely convinced.

Before he can say anything back, his cell phone buzzes and he notices how Olivia freezes in his arms.

She looks at him anxiously as he grimly takes the call.

“Come here now, I have a job for you!” Semjon grumbles.

“I'm on my way, it may take a while....” Jolly dodges.

“YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE ON THE WAY!” Semjon immediately roars, ”YOU'LL BE HERE IN A QUARTER OF AN HOUR, DID YOU UNDERSTAND?!”

“In half an hour....” Jolly contradicts stoically, noticing how Olivia shakes her head frantically, then takes her reassuringly in his arms.

“You're getting away with a lot!” Semjon realizes more calmly, ‘It's probably time to show you your place again, where you belong!’ he threatens dangerously quietly.

Olivia presses her hand over her mouth to stop herself from gasping out loud. She clings to Jolly in horror.

Jolly has to pull himself together so as not to irritate Semjon even more, “I'm sorry if you get that impression. But I can't help the traffic here.... Unfortunately, it's going to take me at least half an hour to get to you. And I'm on the road because I sometimes have to go shopping!” he explains as calmly as possible.

“Hmm,” grumbles Semjon, ‘but no later than half an hour!’ and hangs up.

“Oh God, Joakim!” Olivia sobs desperately against his chest.

Jolly hugs her to him, “Nothing will happen to me. He'll have calmed down by the time I get to him, I've seen enough of him!” he tries to reassure Olivia.

“And if he doesn't? If he knocks you down again?” Olivia swallows.

“He won't... he has a job for me.... That's probably more important to him than taking his anger out on me!” explains Jolly.

“An assignment is.....” Olivia looks at him anxiously.

“Hmm” Jolly nods, ”He wants me to kill someone for him!”

Olivia closes her eyes, “This is just so wrong....” she whispers desperately.

“I know, min Liv!” Jolly rests his forehead against hers, “But if I don't do it......” he leaves the sentence unfinished.

“I know... and that's the terrible thing about it... if you don't, he'll kill you!” she whispers, ”Another life for your life.”

Jolly nods slowly.

“Come on, min Liv, I'll drive you to the hospital...” he then explains gently.

“No.... Go straight to Volkov! Don't waste a minute! I don't want him to get even angrier with you if you don't get to him in time!” she swallows.

“Out of the question!” growls Jolly, ”I won't let you take the subway alone!”

“Yes, you will, because I'm not going to let that maniac hurt you again!” declares Olivia stubbornly, ”Pick me up when you can!”

“Liv, I....” begins Jolly, but is interrupted by Olivia, ”No, Joakim! You know I'm right. You'll never get to him in time if you drive me first. I'm taking the subway. DOT!” she looks at him with flashing eyes.

“I....” Jolly tries again.

“JOAKIM, stop trying to argue with me!” she snarls, ”Go to that maniac and come back in one piece, that's all I want!”

Jolly nods, admitting defeat, “All right! But I'll pick you up!” he swears to her.

“Do that!” Olivia smiles and kisses him on the tip of his nose.

“Artur's dead!” growls Semjon as Jolly stands in front of him.

“Why?” Jolly wants to know, ”Did you.....?”

“No....” Semjon explains immediately, ”Even if the thought did cross my mind. It's not a pity about that wanker, but he was one of us!”

“Hmm” Jolly nods in agreement, ”Who then?”

“From the looks of it, our informant at Doi!” growls Semjon.

“What?” Jolly is irritated for a moment.

“Hmm” nods Semjon.

“But why?” Jolly could bite his ass the moment the question slipped past his lips.

“Money!” Semjon explains tersely, ”The asshole probably wanted more money for his services, left Artur a note... what happened next, we don't know.... Only that Artur is now dead.... Found in that asshole's car!”

“Hmm” Jolly isn't sure what to make of this, but one thing he does know is that Doi is a really crafty motherfucker.

“Where's the informant now?” Jolly then wants to know.

“In custody.... The police caught him trying to make the body disappear.....” growls Semjon, ”He also killed two of Artur's men....”

“And what exactly am I supposed to do now?” Jolly wants to know.

“He'll be transferred to a detention center today. Make sure he doesn't get there alive!” growls Semjon, handing him a folded piece of paper, ”Here are the exact times and location!”

Jolly studies the notes briefly, “Hmm, doable!” he nods.

“Good, get that done. Kolja is beside himself.... Also, be on time on Saturday... Nadja's engagement party!” growls Semjon.

“Will I... where?” Jolly wants to know.

“At my house... after all, she's my goddaughter!” growls Semyon, then looks at Jolly lurkingly, ‘You're coming alone?’ he asks.

Jolly looks up without batting an eyelid, “Of course, what else?” he explains with a deadpan expression.

“Hmm....” grumbles Semjon, ”Go on then, finish that asshole off!”

After the job is done, the shot was no problem at all for Jolly, the informant dead on the spot, he waits in his car for Olivia. He watches the entrance anxiously.

Fuck, when is she finally coming, he thinks to himself.

When another 15 minutes have passed, he gets out without further ado and walks across the street to the hospital, goes into the emergency room and looks around for her.

When he finally spots her, he feels like he's going to burst with unbridled rage.

Michael, this huge asshole, is arguing with her, has pushed her against a wall and is talking loudly at her. Olivia hisses at him accordingly.

Jolly's ears are ringing, he can't understand anything of the discussion the two are having. All he can see is Michael getting closer and closer to Liv.

Jolly quickens his steps and sees Olivia looking at him over Michael's shoulder, startled, as he reaches them both and angrily pulls Michael away from Olivia.

“Keep your filthy fingers off her!” he rumbles dangerously quietly and stands protectively in front of Olivia.

The action has not gone unnoticed. Staff AND patients look curiously, sometimes alarmed, at the three of them.

Michael stares pale into Jolly's eyes.

Olivia grabs Jolly's hand from behind, entwines her fingers in his, “Leave him!” she begs him calmly, “He's not worth it! He's really not!”

Jolly clenches his jaw. Olivia's gentle touch brings him somewhat to his senses.

“Come on, let's go.....” Olivia takes a step forward, pulling Jolly with her, who is still glaring murderously at Michael.

“If that guy dares so much as look at you again, I'll kill him!” growls Jolly quietly on her way out.

“You won't do that!” Olivia hisses back, ”Even if I wish he'd disappear never to be seen again!”

“THAT could easily be arranged!” growls Jolly, still pissed off at this wanker.

“As tempting as that may sound, YOU leave him alone!” whispers Olivia sternly, ”YOU don't kill anyone unless you have to... that's for sure! And when we're finally out of this shit, you won't kill anyone!” she adds sharply as they walk out of the hospital.

“If anyone threatens you....” Jolly starts, but is punched in the upper arm by Olivia, causing him to wince.

“Ow!” he grimaces, ‘You got the spot where I got grazed!’ he complains.

“Maybe you'll remember what I just said to you! No more fucking murders!” growls Olivia.

Jolly has to bite back a grin, knowing that he would make Olivia even angrier.

Looking at her suspiciously, “I'm not joking, I'm serious!” she growls.

Arriving at the car, Jolly takes her in his arms first, kisses her, “I know min Liv, and I'll stick to it!” he smiles, unless some asshole gets too close..... he adds in his mind.

“I need a hot shower first.....” moans Olivia when they finally get to her apartment.

“Sounds tempting!” smiles Jolly, sliding his hands around her waist from behind, ‘Will you take me?’ he teases, kissing her neck.

“Hmm, do you deserve that?” she smiles.

“I think so... after all, the asshole is still alive.....” Jolly explains with a smile.

“God, Joakim!” moans Olivia.

“What?” he kisses her again, ”That guy triggers me just thinking about him...”

“I have absolutely no desire to talk about Michael right now!” gasps Olivia as Jolly's hand slowly moves into her waistband, pushing further and further down.

“Good!” Jolly's lips nibble on her earlobe as his middle finger touches her bud, applying gentle pressure to it and Olivia presses herself against him, panting, rubbing her firm ass against his already pronounced bulge in his pants.

“Fuck, Liv.....” Jolly gasps excitedly and lowers his lips to the tender skin on her neck again, sucking and nibbling while he continues to stimulate her with circular movements, noticing how she gets wetter and wetter and her breathing becomes intermittent.

Olivia raises her arms in the air and wraps them around Jolly's neck, pulling him closer to her as sweet shivers of arousal race through her body.

“Don't stop.....” she moans as she continues to rub herself against him, increasing the pressure.

Jolly has to swallow, pushes herself harder against Olivia and slides two fingers inside her, making her gasp. Especially when he starts to stretch her walls, slowly but steadily working his way up to her point, which makes her shudder.

Jolly skillfully twists his fingers inside her, pumping them in and out, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her bud until Olivia is a moaning heap of misery in his arms and he pulls her closer with his arm around her waist to keep her from collapsing as her orgasm rips through her.

Olivia rests her head against his shoulder, wincing slightly as Jolly pulls his fingers out of her again, holding her tightly afterwards.

“Let's take a shower.....” he suggests softly in her ear.

“Hmm” Olivia nods, still wax in his hands, rubbing herself against him, ‘You need relief badly!’ she smiles.

“If you say so.....” grins Jolly and picks her up, carrying her into the bathroom.

Later, as they lie snuggled up in bed, Olivia lovingly strokes a strand of hair from Jolly's face, “Do you want to talk about the job you had to do today?” she wants to know quietly.

“Hmm” grumbles Jolly, blinking at her, ”No.... Not really.....” he sighs and sits up a little, ”Wasn't a big deal....”

Olivia has to swallow.

“No, I mean, it wasn't hard to do the job.... Not that it wasn't a big deal to kill someone.... Although it wasn't a shame about the asshole...I mean....” Jolly doesn't really know what to say.

“Hmm,” Olivia nods, resting her head on his chest, tracing the lines of his tattoo with her finger, ‘I just can't get used to this kind of thing!’ she gulps.

“You don't have to, min Liv!” Jolly kisses the top of her head, ”I'm more than happy to finally leave this life behind me!”

“Me too!” whispers Olivia in his arms, snuggling up to him.

“I have to go to Semyon on Saturday, Nadja's engagement party with Sergei is taking place there....” he then mentions.

Olivia lifts her head, “You HAVE to?!” she asks.

“Hmm” nods Jolly, ”I HAVE to!”

“Hmm” Olivia mumbles and pushes herself even closer to him.

“You needn't be afraid.... I'll blend in with the others so Semjon doesn't notice me!” he promises her, ”I'll get out of there as soon as I can!”

Olivia nods, “I'm just scared if you have to go to that monster!” she gulps.

“Nothing will happen!” he kisses her again, ‘Do you have to work on Saturdays?’ he then wants to know.

“Hmm” Olivia nods, ”Late shift!”

“I'll pick you up!” explains Jolly immediately, ”Getting there will be difficult!”

Olivia tilts her head back, “I'll be fine!” she smiles.

Jolly sighs, “See, just like you're scared for me when I have to go to Semjon, I'm scared something will happen to you when you're out on your own. There are too many lunatics out there...” he growls and pulls her close to him.

It's Friday afternoon when Kolja calls Jolly.

“Come to the club tonight.... We're drinking to Artur!” he tells him bluntly.

“When?” Jolly wants to know and feverishly thinks about how he can avoid it.

“Be there by 8 p.m. at the latest...” Kolja replies, ”We should discuss my father's wishes in advance.... Regarding your future role!”

FUCK, thinks Jolly, “As your right-hand man?” he wants to know.

“Exactly... now that Artur is dead.... Well, you're not the worst choice!” explains Kolja.

“Thank you very much!” snorts Jolly.

“Well, you know... be on time!” Kolja informs him and hangs up.

Great, Jolly thinks to himself, Artur's funeral tomorrow and Nadja's engagement the day after. He would have liked to have spared himself that, but Doi still needs time for her papers to be perfect.

Jolly and Olivia have already thought together about WHERE they want to start again... but so far they haven't come to a final decision. There are too many factors to consider... At the moment, they are thinking about traveling the world to cover their tracks better.

Jolly can hardly wait to take this step together with Olivia.

Sighing, he gets up and strolls into her kitchen. He is hardly ever in his own apartment anymore, only to change clothes or when he needs something from it, his weapons for example. He only has his pistol, which Kolja gave him, here with Olivia.

Jolly is determined to teach Olivia how to shoot, even if she's just as unenthusiastic about it!

On Fridays, he actually wanted to take her to a shooting range in the afternoon.... But it should be possible by the evening.

His only problem is that he has to leave Olivia alone for so long.... On the one hand, he has a bad feeling about it because he won't be able to protect her, and on the other, he simply doesn't WANT to be away from her for a second.

The mere thought of her makes him smile, if not grin blissfully.

In the kitchen, he starts to prepare something for dinner before picking Olivia up from the hospital. This has almost become a routine and Jolly feels completely at ease with it, noticing how it relaxes him considerably, even more when Olivia is with him.

He still can't quite believe that this wonderful creature has crossed his path and then wanted him.... Even after she found out WHAT he is....

#joakim jolly karlsson #joakim karlsson #jolly #jolly karlsson #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #joakim karlsson fanfiction #jolly fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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itsgrimeytime · 1 year ago

Text

Magnolia in May (Part Eight) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7...

Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @belaballs @curlycarley

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TWS: secrets, hidden information, and miscommunication.

[[ A/N: hey girlies <333. Time for some confrontation !!! This gif exudes gentleman Rick with like CONFLICT. The epitome of the current vibes of this series. This is gonna be a long one, babes, stay in it for the long haul. Thanks for reading :))) ]]

You couldn't breathe, holding the ivory paper to your chest -like the words wouldn't be there anymore. It felt like your heart was bleeding out onto the page, his matter of speak so open that you found something deep within you wishing to share that vulnerability. Despite all the pain, you wished to be somewhat closer to him.

'I ask, from the depths of my heart, don't leave Alexandria.'

Words swirling around your head, you wondered distantly if you could even make any sense out of it all. Certainly not now, with the sort of touched sorrow that twisted into your stomach -guilty and ever-so-slightly hopeful.

You'd never been so confused in your own feelings, it was so easy to villainize Lori before you knew her. And now that you had, it was hard to detach the empathy, the guilt-

It was so exhausting, and you truly wished to sleep it all away. Think later, digest later, but something had been unfinished -pushed to the side.

The invitations.

Without so much as an extra moment, you held the letter to your chest and rushed down the stairs -despite everything, you were desperate for whatever you could get from him. Initially, you'd started by the door -figuring they were maybe placed with some of the mail, but after scouring that stack, you ended up empty-handed.

They were smarter than that, you noted to yourself -turning off toward Father's desk.

His desk wasn't organized, papers and files everywhere -it was a miracle he knew where everything even was. Your fingers brushed over the tops of some stacks, waiting for the rather thick texture, or at the very least the pure ivory tone. Even as you organized stacks and siphoned through drawers, you were still left disappointed.

"God," you sighed, looking in a few telling places -bookshelves, under pillows, and even in the fireplace embers.

Someplace, somehow, you'd ended right back at the entry -cleaning the dust off a shelf with some of Father's trinkets from his travels, and your eyes caught on a stack. Hidden behind one of the statues (crafted out of some sort of heavy stone) were a number of envelopes that had yet to be mailed.

Your first instinct was that these were the ones Beth had meant to send off, and maybe, that's why you'd gathered them of your own accord. Your letters, though, if how they were delivered to you was any indication, were not in envelopes -only folded. You supposed that since they hadn't gone through the official post, there was no need.

It had to be about 5 envelopes there, just based on the feel, as you placed them down on the table -shuffling through the paper for any sort of reason for them to be stashed. Your eyes caught on the handwriting -Headmistress's, all curly letters and eloquent print, it read: Mrs. Ettington.

That name had rung a bell, a sort of old friend that she'd only been reconnecting with the past few weeks. She'd said they'd gone to school together long ago, and she was delighted to catch up. It was rather pointed, her mentioning of it to you -all details and sure you remembered the name. At the time, you'd brushed it off as her wishing to cheer you up, but now-

Your fingers were quick to break the envelope seal.

It was dated the day of the dinner, in swirled lettering across the top right -not proper for postage. It was clear this envelope was just for show.

With two fingers, you fished out the thick paper -carefully pulling the texture out onto the table. To your surprise, it was two. Handwritten notes from the mere few hours before the dinner, and you knew that handwriting by now.

'Dr. Greene and Family,' it read, in far more formal writing than what your note had been consistent of, '-It is with great sorrow that I must cancel our planned dinner scheduled for later this evening. I'm sure you're well aware of my current situation from the papers, I've even heard some of my staff gossiping, so the concept is not far-fetched. And my hope of this matter being dealt with quickly has come with its fair share of hiccups, so at this current point in time, rescheduling will be put on pause. I apologize for any inconvenience and will take it upon myself to explain this matter to Ms. Greene. If you shall wish to let me, I would request she comes to my estate on the 'morrow so as to get rid of any misunderstandings. Awaiting your response, Richard Grimes.'

"'-will take it upon myself to explain this matter to Ms. Greene,'" you read out to yourself, tone rather solid and dull. That had not happened, had the Headmistress stopped it? Or had she not noticed the note until after your return?

It wouldn't have been something to bring up then -shed tears and shivering from the rain, you were sure the thought hadn't even crossed her mind.

With a quick motion, you'd picked up the second note in the pile -the formal invitation. It resembled the same as the ball's, all perfectly cut edges and balanced, elegant printing -but not as embellished.

The words were brief but said much of the same as his letter -at least pertaining to you. It was, as Mr. Dixon had explained, a summoning. A rather direct one with an explicit purpose.

Your heart had nearly cracked out of your chest, and yet your hands reached for the next envelope -detailed a mere few days later. You were going to read them all, no matter if it hurt. You'd already been hurt, all you had wanted to do was know.

'Dr. Greene,' a more direct address, seeming to note the lack of success for the last one -still formal but not as distant as the last, '-I think you know what I'm contacting you for, either from the previous letter or mayhaps from your own daughter returning late last evening. Is she well? I tried to get her a carriage but she refused and the rain hasn't even let up well into the next day. If you would be so kind as to let me know if she's ill, it would soothe me greatly. And do not hesitate to ask for any sort of monetary assistance if the care is needed, I understand she's in great hands, your own, but I wish to offer my services in case of necessity. Any other matter is of less importance than her health, so despite the complicated situation -I am at your beck and call. Anxiously awaiting your response, Richard Grimes.'

It was difficult to swallow, reading through the note -you'd supposed this one had went into his hands, however. Remembering that your Father had his hands on a medicine rather quickly, one he'd had a hard time keeping stock of in the clinic. Had Mr. Grimes sent it?

The other note was a response, thin writing was easily your father's -you recognized along the paperwork scattered everywhere in the house. You could hardly read it, though, written so hastily, only a few words sticking out but you'd gathered it was, in fact, about the shortage.

Even further supported by Mr. Grimes's response detailed at the bottom, 'I will set out as soon as possible for Atlanta for such medicine. There is nothing to repay, I would do anything for her, you must know that by now.'

It was rather rushed, words all crooked and ink bleeding -you'd imagined he'd left as soon as the quill was lifted. For you.

You felt tears burn behind your eyes, sinking into the chair you had been roaming towards -imagining the hesitance of himself at the door. Father accepting the medicine, and the pull of concern he would have had. But he couldn't come inside -you imagined it might've broken his heart to leave. No, it had to.

You'd taken the next one in your hands, it was the next day after the last and upon looking at it, seemed written faster, quicker. Like it was merely his thoughts as he scribbled them out.

'Dr. Greene,' it read -still composed but something about the letters blurred together more, '-I must make it clear that every and any intention I have with Ms. Greene is honorable. I can only imagine the turmoil she may be going through at this very moment, and it truly crushes me that it is my fault. I intended to explain it myself, but she seems to have garnered a meaning herself without my input. If you have any respect for me, I would ask sincerely that you let me explain myself. She is far more important to me than I think anyone has realized, and while I understand your hesitance, the situation does not look favorable. I fear if I cannot explain it now then, she may never know. And I truly don't wish for it to end this way, or for it to end at all. Richard Grimes.'

He didn't wish for it to end, thrummed against your skull, as you pulled out another formal invitation, same details different date. The print had no tells.

You couldn't think on it too long, or you'd never get through them. And you were determined to do so. This time three pieces tumbled out of envelope, two of which were rather familiar.

'Dr. Greene,' the fourth one started, words closer -rushed, and the ink bled, '-I'm not sure if you're even reading these at this point. But I'm at a rather, regretfully, desperate moment. I considered delivering this one myself just so I could be sure you'd at least read it. I'm not sure I could quite handle it if you refused to let me speak to her, however, so I am to send this by courier again. All I've found I can do is hope you believe me in my urgency, and at this current time, I'm not sure you even respect me enough to do so. But I cannot help but try. I will not stop trying. I can't. Please, just let me explain myself. Allow her to choose if she believes my intentions, or if she wants to accept to meeting me. I will respect that decision if it comes to pass, but truly dread if it ever comes. Respectfully, Richard Grimes.'

You recognized the invitation, all formal in it's presentation with the date changed. But it did not come alone. There was a second note to be brandished to a different face -you wondered if it had ever gotten there.

'Ms. Maggie Greene,' it detailed, '-I know it's rather unusual, writing through a sister to get to someone. And I considered addressing this directly to the eldest Ms. Greene, but I'm sure you understand my hesitancy. I'm not sure anything I send her will be seen by her own eyes, by choice, or by the ignorance of not knowing it ever existed. All I ask is simply for you to tell her I wish to speak to her. In any capacity. Or that I'm reaching out at all, I fear that she doesn't know I'm fighting for it. That my plans are set in stone, and that her assumptions, or perhaps the world's, are without a doubt the truth. You know my intentions, you always have, ever since that day near the seamstress shop. And I ask that you honor that and tell your sister I am still fighting, that I have not run away. Please. Sincerely, Richard Grimes.'

You'd reread it, over and over again like it would change a single thing. Like the words would be any different. 'I am still fighting... I have not run away-' bouncing around your skull like the words could change, like they could mean anything but what they meant-

You'd never thought about the idea that maybe he wouldn't decide to reconcile his marriage. That he'd choose you. It didn't seem possible, even now, you still hesitated to believe such a thing.

But it was here, maybe not said directly, but it was there. Underneath each written word, everything he said framed it to be seen. Maybe he hadn't meant to, but the delicate care you felt in each word -it was unmistakable. With every swirl of concern, urgency, anything, you could tell that he'd found himself caring for you. Even just a little.

It hardly felt little but you didn't wish to be too hopeful.

The last envelope felt as if it had its own set of eyes, staring you down -rooting you to your spot. Smoothed into a chair, hair surely a mess and cheeks an aggravated red from the wiping of tears, you felt quite inadequate to win the stare. And a part of you truly wondered if you'd already gone too far.

Perhaps this last letter was a recanting, and detailed that despite all of these, he had given up and wished to pursue life as a married man. For his children, for the betterment of his estate, whatever reason he chose was the most accurate. There was quite a list in favor of it, you'd done it yourself. Tried to rationalize your heartbreak, like maybe it would change how you feel. Make it seem more impossible, so your mind would be tricked into understanding that it was never yours to have.

Your hands moved before you could stop them, as you opened the final envelope -it was thinner than the others. Just a single slip of paper hidden there, not an invitation, you'd guessed. As you pulled it between your fingers, your eyes squeezed shut, instinctually, almost as if you'd said a quick prayer rather than gathered yourself for what it said.

Deep breath in and a slow breath out, you patted at your cheeks with a bit of cloth and began.

'Ms. Greene,' it started, words wonderfully composed and written but still somehow vulnerable, '-I'm not sure you shall ever receive this note. Or any at all. Not because I didn't wish it, but merely because I doubt you'll ever be made aware of its existence. I've been going back to Mr. Elliotts, asking him how you are. He says he hasn't seen you in days. I haven't seen you in days either. My head is a mess as it is, but I find something clears it all when I think about you. I've never been more certain about you. I suppose I'm just afraid I don't know if you are as certain as you once were. I want you to be. I need you to be. I can't properly voice this here, it's much larger than I'm able to quite capture in the written word. Or maybe any words at all. Ms. Greene, I wish to speak to you. It's all I want. I just want a word, and if you slam the door, I will respect it. But even with an idea that they're might be a bad outcome, I have to try. I would hate myself if I didn't try. Please. Yours, Richard Grimes.'

Please, was the word that stuck that time, please.

As you neatly stacked the bits of paper -mindlessly, you found it was all that had played on repeat. All that you could see was desperation, flitted through the stroke of the quill, the bleeding if the ink. It felt as though his heart was there, in that note -extended on an opened palm.

Like it was a simple offering, one you could refuse. Or one you could take, one you could listen to and care for.

It was there under all the notes under all the words, under every dip of ink Richard Grimes had offered his heart up -vulnerable and open and desperate.

And you hadn't known.

You thought back to your final words with the man, before you disappeared off into the rain, heartbroken and unfixable -'you're not mine'.

Stretched across your lips, holding back a sob, it was true. From what you understood then, it was true. You hadn't asked him, sure, but it seemed like the obvious choice. That you were not the one he was fighting for.

But if felt here, in these tiny little letters that you hadn't seen, that he was trying to show you: 'I am yours, all yours.'

Like there was never a doubt to him, and he only sought to prove it. To show you, because you hadn't listened-

But you were late, not of your own accord but you were still far too late. And a part of you wondered if maybe it was too late. Or if there were more, or if he was still trying, still fighting-

You could only hope so.

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