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kiruuuuu · 4 years

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Smoke/Mute in which ten cups of coffee change Mute’s life. (Rating T, slice of life/fluff/budding romance, ~5.8k words) - written for none other than @nutbrain for being a remarkable human being and an even better friend 💖 Please enjoy!

Mark eyes the shopfront before him with suspicion. His safe haven apparently gone, a flashier version has taken its place some time during the semester break, keeping nothing but the location and the proffered goods. Instead of the old-fashioned, thick-cushioned chairs and dim lighting, the new café shines with an open-floor concept, simple wooden furniture and an overall dark look with specks of gold to brighten it up. Leo Coffee, reads the sign next to a golden logo displaying a roaring lion. What big cats have to do with coffee isn’t obvious to Mark, but he overcomes his initial distaste and steps inside nonetheless.

As visible from outside, the place is deserted. The previous coffee shop was frequented by businesspeople and students alike, located halfway between the campus and Mark’s dorm – on rainy days, people often took public transport and bought their coffee elsewhere, but even on those occasions, it’s never been as empty as this.

Not that Mark is complaining. If the coffee is good, he’ll continue frequenting the new shop, and being able to work in peace would be an added bonus. He is quite fond of Julien and Timur, but even so, they’re not the… easiest to live with. To say the least. A quiet place would be very welcome.

He sets his books down on the table furthest away from the counter, slings his bag over the back of a chair and approaches the empty void where an employee should be standing. This is when he notices another curiosity: there’s no menu board. There isn’t even a menu card by the counter or anywhere, really, only a glass case with a handful of baked goods inside, most of which look like a child made them. So far, the only redeeming quality is the delicious dark smell of roasted coffee beans lingering in the air.

After another minute, still nobody has appeared, so Mark checks his phone for reviews. If the place has less than four stars – alright, three, he’s giving them the benefit of the doubt purely because of their convenient location and quietness –, then he’s out of here. He can’t even remember the last time he had to wait this long to -

“Are you going to order or what?”

Nearly dropping his phone in the process, Mark jumps at the sudden gruff voice and looks up to find himself face to face with a grizzled man. The black apron is all that betrays him as an employee as the unimpressed glare and casual attire do nothing in his favour. “Uh”, he replies eloquently and vows that he’ll never set foot in this place again if this is how he’s going to get treated.

The old man’s expression melts into friendliness. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone. Welcome to Café Leo – it’s your first time here, so have a loyalty card, lad.”

Mark accepts the piece of paper without thinking, still thrown off by the bloke’s sudden appearance (how does he move completely silent like that), and at least has the presence of mind to inspect it. Its contents are so absurd that he forgets to ask how the man opposite him knew he hadn’t been to the shop yet. “‘After 10 coffee purchases, you’re eligible for a free wish’”, he mumbles, reading the text printed white on black aloud. “‘This offer is not transferable.’ What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that only you can redeem your reward, not anyone else. Would you like some coffee?”

He blinks at the bearded man, trying to ascertain whether he’s being serious, and is met with an almost bored stare. Weighing his options, the scales are only slightly tipped in favour of staying, but only because he knows Julien has a ‘visitor’ over today and there’s no other place he can study – the library is overrun by frantic procrastinators who left finishing their coursework assigned over the break to the absolute last minute, and Manu is coming back tomorrow. Apart from her and his roommates, there’s no one with whom he’s comfortable enough to invite himself over.

Especially not him. God knows why Mark even considered him for a brief second.

Looks like he’ll have to deal with this awkwardness if he wants to get any work done whatsoever. “Alright then. What do you sell?”

“Coffee”, comes the curt answer.

Mark rubs his eyes in exhaustion. He’s beginning to understand why there’s no other customers here. “Sure. Yes. A coffee, then.”

“That’ll be…” The employee trails off while frowning down at his wristwatch. “…um, about £7.92.”

“For one coffee?”

“It’s free refills, son.”

Oh, so maybe this is an American chain. That would explain quite a bit. Mark considers whether he’s staying long enough to get the most out of his money, but seeing as the bloke doesn’t seem the chattiest type and he’s unlikely to get interrupted, he decides it’s worth it. Still, there’s something he simply can’t let go. “… what do you mean, ‘about’ £7.92?��

“Are you paying cash or card?”

Alright then.

The next ultimatum: if the coffee turns out dogshite, he’s never coming back. He’d rather travel an increased distance to a normal coffee shop than to have to deal with this nonsense. Wordlessly, he sets down a £10 note and scoops the change into his wallet before watching the obviously American guy (and maybe the chain imports all their workers, who knows) pour a cup of the darkest coffee he’s ever seen. He unceremoniously sets it down in front of him and makes no indication of mentioning neither cream nor sugar. He’s lucky Mark prefers his energy supply as-is.

“Ta”, Mark mutters and scurries away, glad to escape that hard stare. To make sure he’s not being scammed, he takes a quick sip of the fragrant liquid and is surprised at how pleasant the taste is. Minimal bitterness, a gentle, almost floral note, and just strong enough to satisfy his craving.

Well, crap.

Looks like he’ll have to come back after all.

~*~

“Did you guys know the old coffee shop closed?”, Mark voices his thoughts into the middle of a medium-sized food war between Manu and Timur involving entirely too many packets of salt.

“The one on campus?”, Manu asks and accidentally elbows Julien in the ribs, causing him to actually look up from his phone for once.

“No, the one halfway to our dorm.”

“I was there last week”, Timur pipes up, making him furrow his brows. A week can’t be enough to refurnish the entire café, let alone switch owners completely. “Is it closed now?”

“There’s a different one instead. It was dead when I went, but the coffee’s good. The bloke serving me was weird.”

“Look at you, stringing multiple sentences together”, Julien chimes in, grinning. “Something novel must’ve happened for you to even bring it up. Was the dude hot?”

“Because that’s the only reason anyone would ever get excited about anything”, says Manu drily. “We can check it out if it’s good, even if the employees suck. Not like we have to socialise with them.”

Mark shrugs and regrets mentioning the café in the first place – it feels somehow personal, whether it’s to do with the odd experience overall or the fact that he ended up staying more than three hours. His productivity was through the roof, the calm atmosphere helped immensely and the thought of his loud friends – as much as he appreciates them – invading his newfound hideout isn’t one he particularly enjoys.

It turned out that the employee wasn’t so bad after all: as soon as Mark considered asking for more coffee, he appeared right by his side and filled his mug again, without bothering him at all. Still, Julien would complain about him and Timur might agree and Manu is likely to judge his impolite manner, and Mark wouldn’t be able to defend him. Even if he doesn’t mind the silent company.

For the moment, he needn’t bother with these thoughts as his friends are wholly occupied with arguing over some internet memes (and Mark remembers vividly how they all had to talk Julien down from nibbling at their laundry detergent pods), so nothing could be further from their minds than sitting down and actually studying for their degrees.

Not that they’re bad students, quite the opposite, they’re just not as… ambitious as Mark. Some have called him obsessed, yes, and he can’t quite refute it, but he prefers to call it ‘determined’. There have been few who are able to keep up with him, which is probably partly the reason why he’s made friends with people from completely different departments. He tends to be a loner in most classes, which suits him just fine.

Well. Most classes.

“I would give my left bollock for you.”

Mark certainly doesn’t appreciate the imagery. He hands over the photocopied sheet to the bloke nearly bouncing in delight before shuffling after his fellow students into the lecture hall. Closely followed, of course. “Make sure to change enough details”, he repeats the reminder, earning a scoff.

“I’ll make it illegible, babe, don’t worry.” James plops down next to him, stretching and taking up too much space. “You’re the only reason I’ll actually get credit for this course.”

Oh, Mark is very aware of this fact. He lets his seat neighbour prattle on as he takes out his materials, lines up his pens, and waits for the lecture to start. If he were pressed to explain how he ended up in this position, with a chatterbox glued to his side too lazy to do any of the coursework, he wouldn’t have a concise answer. Other than his inability to say no.

The problem is that James knows exactly who to befriend. Mark is naturally drawn to the overachievers in each class and carefully selects his group for projects, going by people who do put the time and work in to get a good grade – anything where students are meant to collaborate is 30% actual work and 70% politics. The right people tend to listen to him whenever he knows better, because they’re interested in improving and learning, they tend to go along with his division of tasks, because he distributes them fairly and suited to everyone’s skills, and they tend to work best independently, so they can get it done even without excessive communication.

And James? He follows the same strategy as Mark, except that he’s a leech. He latches onto the teacher’s pets, chooses the easiest tasks, always volunteers for presentations (meaning he’ll just have to regurgitate what his group produced), and bribes his groupmates so they don’t throw him out. Whether it’s snacks or drinks after class, whether it’s attention and compliments, or playing matchmaker: he knows how to make himself useful in all aspects other than his studies.

He’s a clown. He makes everyone laugh and worms his way into their hearts so they would feel bad about calling him out. Not having to do any work is his reward for asking questions everyone’s thinking but doesn’t dare ask for fear of looking stupid in front of the prof.

Obviously, James has latched onto him ever since they crossed paths in chem last semester, and Mark considered dropping the current class when he found out that he was in it as well. Even worse, James began asking him for homework, giving excuses like having had no time, not being able to write it down concisely, and so on – and though Mark initially refused, classmates approached him and gently nudged him towards sharing his results with James. Just to be nice. Just to help him. He’s such a good guy after all.

So Mark’s homework gets copied and passed along. And James’ fondness of him only grows.

During the long, meaningless rant interspersed with an impressive amount of curse words, he perks up at a quiet: “Wait, this one doesn’t make any sense.”

His pride won’t let him ignore it. “Which one?”

James points at one of Mark’s answers, a complicated equation. “Shouldn’t that be on top?”

“The denominator?”

An uncertain glance. He points again. “This.”

“You mean the bottom fraction? That’s the denominator, yes. And it is where it should be.”

James frowns, indubitably not content with the reply but possibly unsure how to voice his dissatisfaction.

“Trust me, it’s correct. Just copy it.”

“But I want to understand it.”

Fat chance. No way did he get any of the previous homework without having engaged with the subject matter at all, so it’s impossible for him to work it out, even if Mark explained it. Which he doesn’t want to. Because he figures it’d be like explaining string theory to a brick wall. He’s saved by the prof’s entry, knowing James at least has the decency to shut up during class, and hopes he can simply slip away afterwards.

It turns out, however, James is fully aware of his biggest weakness. “Do you have a bit of time after? You think you can explain it to me? Please?”

Yikes.

Not only is Mark burning to show him how wrong he is, he’s also entirely unable to refuse a plea for help. And there’s no doubt James knows this. He can’t keep getting away with it, he’s exploiting Mark enough as it is without offering much – if anything – in return, plus it’s obvious the endeavour is futile and doomed from the start. And this is disregarding the possibility of James suggesting more meetings in the future. So, like the reasonable adult he is, Mark replies: “Sure.”

And has never wanted to kick himself more.

If this bloke really is the only employee they have, it’s no wonder the place is dead yet again. They stare at each other, unblinking, and seem equally dismayed about each other’s presence. “Hi”, says Mark after a few seconds of tense silence.

The old man is wearing the same clothes as last time, apron and jeans – even his disinterested expression hasn’t changed. “I’m Sam”, he offers completely out of the blue, surprising Mark with how unexpected the introduction is. “I figured you shouldn’t have to keep calling me ‘this bloke’ in your head.”

“… Mark”, he responds hesitantly.

“Is that a threat?” Sam barks out a brief, mirthless laugh. “I know. You wrote it on your loyalty card.”

He most certainly did not, but only because the card is solid black with white text. “Look, I’m just here to buy coffee.”

“You brought a friend.” Sam indicates James who already sat down by a window and is absorbed in his phone for the time being – and for all his faults, Mark has to admit that at least his (limited) attention is always on the person he’s talking to; he’s never seen his fellow student even checking for messages during a conversation.

“Not really”, he says nonetheless and is reasonably sure they’re out of earshot. “We just have chem together.”

“You have chemistry, hm?”

He wonders if it’s possible to set someone on fire with a hard look alone. “Just sell me the bloody coffee.”

“For the both of you?” Sam turns around and studies the clock on the wall behind him, whispering to himself for a few seconds before announcing: “That’ll be roughly £15.84.”

“Fine.” He holds out a card, scowling when Sam makes no move to take it.

“No complaint?”

“Is it gonna be cheaper if I do? Besides, he’s paying. So I don’t care.”

“Oh. Then it’ll be £22.43.”

“Why is it -” As quickly as his annoyance spikes, it ebbs again. It’s obvious there’s no logic behind all this nonsense, yet he still tries: “If it’s cheaper for me, I’ll pay and get the money back from him.”

“That’s illegal. You’ve already told me he’s paying.”

“I’m not trying to buy liquor, why would it -” Deep breaths. He already told James about how good the coffee is, and if they go anywhere else, someone else might see them. He’s strongly incentivised to stay. “Fine. Here.”

Sam runs the card and, as last time, pours two very unimpressive mugs before, to Mark’s horror, reaching into the display case and pulling out two slices of cakes on their own respective plates. The chocolate one is drooping and threatening to fall over if anyone looked at it wrong, and the sponge cake seems suspiciously wet. There’s no telling how long they’ve been sitting there. “It’s on the house”, Sam says, almost begrudgingly, as if he was the inconvenienced one.

Mark considers asking for forks or napkins but decides that the shorter their interaction, the healthier his sanity. “Ta, mate. Do you need my loyalty card?”

“No need.”

Fair enough, though he’s not sure what the point of it is, then. He carries the coffees and cakes over in two trips and wonders how he’ll get rid of the sickly-looking bakeware without Sam noticing. When James eventually tries his piece and doesn’t keel over immediately though, Mark gives his own a try.

It’s the best chocolate cake he’s ever had. And he’s never been madder in his life.

~*~

At some point, it turns into stubbornness. There’s a few mannerisms, the odd hobby and some of his preferences which started out as either ironic, as guilty pleasures or as things he actively disliked, but the more he engaged, the more he developed the attitude of: you know what? This is mine and I don’t care what anyone says about it.

He’s starting to adopt Leo Coffee. The awkward vibe about it, the indecipherable employee, the delicious food and drinks – it holds its own charm in a way, and he’s stopped wondering about being the only patron. It’s perfect for studying or unwinding, and does wonders for his stressed soul. He’s been returning regularly now, about once a week, and even brought James with him a second time to argue about yet another homework he criticised. The atmosphere renders Mark calmer, more patient, and so he endured the other man’s presence for much longer than he would’ve thought possible. They stayed for almost three hours the first time, even longer the second.

Just to make sure he’s not being a nuisance, he tried to check the coffee shop’s opening hours and wasn’t even sure what he expected to find. They’re listed nowhere, of course, and Sam switched topics the instant he brought it up.

So now the only people he has to drag in here are his friends, who have somehow evaded his efforts so far – but not today. Timur and Julien promised to come even though Manu has to go to some recital or other, meaning she’s excused. For now.

Eyes idly following pedestrians outside, he’s resting his chin in his palm and waiting. Being the only punctual one has always meant boredom, so he’s lucky his mind is imaginative enough to keep him occupied in the meantime. His train of thought meanders through all the topics occupying his brain recently, how the new guy Julien is seeing is basically moving into their apartment, how Timur keeps hanging around the wrong crowd, how unfair it is that Manu aces all her courses with so little effort, how he happened to run into James during his break today and almost suggested spending it together -

His phone buzzes, interrupting his aimless daydreaming and prompting him to check the colourful screen.

I got ambushed, writes Julien and it’s unclear whether he’s being cryptic on purpose. Mark sends a question mark and has to wait a minute or two for the explanation: Sudden date night, looks like Netflix & chill boys ;) sry for ditching you but the shop isn’t gonna go anywhere right?

An eye roll later, Mark responds with a simple TMI.

I don’t think I’ll make it either, adds Timur, a friend wants to yarn bomb the stature by City Hall and they need me as lookout.

This one gets points for creativity at least. He sighs and reassures them with a quick sure, no problem before commending himself for not going home first to drop his bag off. Now he can just study instead. Woohoo.

Another brief vibration, this notification from a completely different group chat, one Mark apparently forgot to leave once the project was done: @Mark: are there carrots in carrot cake?

The number is translated to ‘GirthControl’, so there’s just one person this could be. He stares at his screen. Is that a trick question? Yes, he feels confident enough to affirm to James.

Ah okay. Thanks babe.

This is when it occurs to him: Wait, why did you only ask me?

Silence. Whatever quest James is currently on, it apparently required Mark’s input and Mark’s input only.

He can’t help but laugh at the absurdity and suddenly feels a lot less abandoned. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter whether his friends don’t rank him at the top of their priority list as long as he’s on it somewhere. And knowing that he’s left a lasting impression on James beyond being the lad who supplies him with homework is oddly reassuring.

When he approaches the counter, Sam once again materialising out of nowhere (at least that’s what it feels like – he’s always there when Mark needs him and never at any other time), he’s decided to not get weirded out by anything today. “A coffee”, he orders confidently and inspects the haphazardly thrown together bagels featured prominently in the infamous display case. “And a bagel.” He doesn’t bother specifying, Sam will choose for him anyway.

After peering at the digital alarm clock on the counter, Sam announces the approximate value of the aforementioned items and then squints at him. “Weren’t you going to meet with somebody?”

Mark half-shrugs. “Kinda. They’re busy though.”

“Mind if I join you?” He must notice Mark’s surprise because he adds: “It’s your ninth time here. Would be a shame if we didn’t get to talk before you’ve filled up your loyalty card, don’t you think?”

“Alright”, he agrees and waits until Sam has poured himself a mug as well before they sit down at Mark’s usual table – tucked away in a corner but close enough to the windows to be able to do people-watching if his eyes need a rest from staring at textbooks or screens all day long. It’s the first time he examines the man opposite him more closely: the distinguished features, greying beard, wild mane of hair. He looks too… important to be working in a coffee shop, like he was destined for greatness. Mark can’t picture him angry even if he exudes a bitter, cynical aura which he’s likely to hide behind sarcasm.

“How did you end up here?”, he wants to know, genuinely curious.

“Good question.” Sam takes a few sips of his excellent coffee as he ponders how to reply. “It’s a temporary thing, that’s for sure.” He leaves it at that. “What do you study?”

Mark eyes the disorganised heap of books keeping his bagel company and sighs. “At this point, I don’t even know anymore.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It is”, he emphasises. “I love studying.”

“Where’s the problem then?”

There is none, he wants to say yet his mouth refuses to comply. He stares into the dark liquid, running his thumb over even porcelain and then decides to sod it – he asked, right? And somehow, it’s always easier to unload on a complete stranger. “I feel like it’s all I’m doing.”

“You keep others at a distance on purpose.” He nods, even though it wasn’t a question. “So don’t be surprised if they do the same.”

“I’m not.” The warmth seeps into his palms as he wraps his hands around the mug, providing as much comfort as Sam’s gentle tone. “I just want it to be different.”

“Make an effort. It’s never to late to change. I’m sure your friends will appreciate it. Put some trust in them, they’re your friends for a reason.” He nods again, lost in thought. “Have you figured out what you’re going to wish for next time?”

He scoffs, amused. There isn’t a single thing he can imagine himself wanting from the old man before him, so he’s unlikely to wish for anything at all. “No. Not yet.”

“Well, think about it. I believe in you, son.” With that, Sam downs the last of his own coffee and gets up, ready to walk back behind the counter and only stops when Mark calls his name.

“Is there someone you care about?”

It’s the first time he sees Sam smile. “Yes. There were two, but I lost one – so I keep the other one twice as close without trying to be suffocating. It’s hard. But remember, Mark, it’s never too late to tell the people in your life how you really feel.” And then he’s gone, disappeared into the back, leaving behind a faint nostalgia tinted with hope.

There’s no challenge from which Mark has shied away in his life, and this one isn’t going to be his first.

~*~

The word fuck on his lips, Mark bursts into the café like a panicked chicken. He’s juggling two bags and his phone, his frantic typing only interrupted by the need to breathe now and then, and nearly drops it when he slams his book bag to the ground at the counter. “Sorry, one sec”, he addresses an unimpressed-looking Sam as he dials a number and curses once more when it’s not immediately picked up. “Can I get a coffee to go?”, he asks, out of breath, as the dial tone beeps in his ear.

“I don’t serve people who are on the phone”, Sam replies, as calm as ever.

Mark mentally increases the number of people who’d be dead if his looks could kill by one. “This is the worst thing to ever happen to me”, he says gravely and hangs up after thirty seconds have passed. “I’m gonna fail this class.”

“An event without precedence, I assume?”

“You have no bloody idea. But yes, a coffee please, I need to go back to the library and get an entire semester’s worth of material because I’m too fucking dumb to read a syllabus correctly. This has never happened to me, I have one day to write this assignment and I’m lacking so much -”

“Can you give me the time?”, Sam interrupts him nonchalantly and stares at the screen of Mark’s phone as he holds it up for him to read. “Thanks. Let’s say £2.63.”

“And I can’t study at home because Timur has his friends over, and Manu is in a panic herself, and I know the library is going to be overrun by people who treat the study rooms like their social media accounts by loudly oversharing all the time, and I have no idea how I’m supposed to do this. Maybe I’ll just accept fate and fail. No clue how I’m gonna tell my parents.”

“Your loyalty card.”

Distracted, Mark fishes it out of his wallet and puts it on the counter. “And the other people in chem aren’t answering or are no help at all, I don’t get it, I’ve done group projects with them and still they don’t have the courtesy to help me out in this. It was a genuine mistake, as stupid as it is, and I’m just -”

“You need to write it down.”

He’s briefly interrupted in his rant to frown at the black paper card. “Write what?”

“Your wish.”

“But you won’t be able to read it. I only have black or blue pens.”

“Doesn’t matter. Write it down.”

With an irritated sigh, Mark takes out a pen and thinks for a second, the majority of his attention elsewhere still. Eventually, he scribbles someone who cares, not that it’d be legible in any way, and hands it to Sam. “That’s it? I’m not sure this reward system is going to pay off in the long term, you know.”

Sam holds the card up to the light as if he was inspecting a bank note and nods, apparently satisfied. “You’re all set. Good luck.”

“Ta, I’m gonna need it.” Mark shoves all his belongings in various pockets, hoping he’ll remember where he put them, and grabs the to-go cup. And then, without so much as a goodbye, he storms back out, steeling himself for an all-nighter certain to mess up sleep schedule for days, if not weeks.

He ascribes it to his flustered state that he doesn’t look up as he exits the coffee shop, and promptly runs into someone, collides with what feels like a solid wall. His coffee gets squished and sloshes over, soaking the front of his clothes – fortunately, it’s not hot at all, more like lukewarm which is odd in and of itself. He swears again, yanking his phone out of his pocket before it gets wet also and it’s only due to another hand grabbing the device that it doesn’t plummet to the ground straightaway.

“Oh bollocks, I’m so sorry”, says the wall he ran into which turns out to be none other than James. Of all people. “Are you alright? Is it hot?”

“No, no, I’m fine”, Mark presses through clenched teeth, the stress slowly overwhelming him. “But now I have to go home and change before I can start on this stupid fucking -”

“Babe. Calm down. What’s wrong?”

He takes a deep breath and ignores the quickly cooling wet patches on his clothes for the moment. “I still have to do the report. I didn’t realise we were meant to -”

“Oh, you haven’t done it? At all?”

“No! No, I didn’t, and everyone else is partnered up so I can’t just join someone else, so I’ll have to -”

“I’m not paired up.”

“Sure, once I’m done I’ll put your name on there, whatever, but that doesn’t -”

“Babe. Mark. Listen to me.” James waves in front of his face with a slight grin. “I did it. It’s almost done. I’ll put down that we did it together and you’re good.”

He stares at James, mouth open, for several unflattering seconds. “Wait – you… how?”

“I can show you, but it’s at my place. My roommate is around your height, he can lend you some clothes. Let’s go.”

And yet again, Mark finds himself unable to refuse. He drinks what’s left of his coffee in one go (and it really is tepid, he must’ve gotten really lucky), tosses the cup in the nearest bin and leaves Leo Coffee behind without a single glance back.

James’ flat looks exactly like Mark would’ve imagined it, only louder. Double bass and epic vocals are permeating every room, and all available horizontal surfaces are littered with stuff. The walls are plastered with posters, some funny, some pretty, some morbid, and it reeks of weed.

A small part of Mark feels right at home, oddly enough.

“Turn the fucking music down!”, James yells at the top of his lungs, throwing him an apologetic look, clearly uncomfortable with the state of it all and ignorant as to Mark’s growing amusement.

Somewhere, a door opens and the shrill guitars become clearer. “Whot?”, someone replies just as loudly.

“Exactly!”, is James’ deafening reply, and a few seconds later, the melodies decrease to a reasonable level. Another bloke joins them, tall and well-built with an unkempt beard and a band shirt as well as no socks.

“Who’s that? Is he allowed to be here?”, asks James’ roommate and regards Mark with suspicion.

“That was Sabaton, wasn’t it?”, Mark inquires back. “Primo Victoria?”

The dude’s entire face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Oh, a connoisseur. He can stay, James, I like him already.”

And while the two of them exchange more words, Mark goes exploring. He ends up in what must be James’ room which is covered in paper, be it books or hand-written notes, and most of it seems related to chemistry in some way. Curious, Mark looks around until he finds a spiral-bound notepad titled with the name of the course they’re sharing this semester. Contrary to his expectations, it’s far from empty – not only does it contain copious lecture notes, it also features every assignment they’d been given since the start of the course.

Solved differently from Mark’s own answers.

Confused, he checks more closely and finds a recurring pattern: equations that are struck-through, calculations lacking several steps in between which wouldn’t be accepted by the prof this way, and very little text. It looks like the writings of someone who certainly understands the material but simply has a hard time putting his thoughts in order, putting his ideas into neat writing.

He’s been immersed for several minutes when James finally joins him, and when he does, Mark holds up his notes and greets him with a simple: “What the fuck?”

James doesn’t seem to realise where Mark’s problem lies and shrugs. “Yeah, I’m a hopeless case, I know.”

“No. No, you’re really not. This is – look here, if you just shift this around, you end up with the correct result. You’re like 95% of the way there, you just didn’t finish it.”

“Oh.” James blinks at him. “I guess. It’s kinda like that with the report. I was hoping you could help me write the conclusion, I’ve got the rest, but -”

“Sure. Yes.” Mark’s agreeableness seems to astonish his host. “That’ll take an hour, maybe two. And I won’t have to pull an all-nighter. James, you have no idea how much you saved me.”

And James, bless his soul, is blushing. “Well. No problem. I owe you anyway. Right?” He suddenly remembers he’s holding spare clothing and vaguely gestures in Mark’s direction. “You, uh, you can change in the bathroom. Don’t mind the cat, she just loves staring at naked people. Dom found out the hard way.”

Twenty minutes later, Mark is reading through James’ report with a ball of fur purring on his lap, faint metal playing in the background. There’s a lot of grammar and spelling to be fixed, as well as phrasing, but content-wise, it’s near flawless. He’s smiling to himself, enjoying the way James turns almost bashful whenever he compliments his work, and remembers Sam’s words from the second-to-last time he visited the café: it’s never too late.

He’s definitely treating James to dinner after he’s saved his arse like this.

The next time Mark passes by that familiar spot, the next time Mark develops a craving for caffeine and some peace and quiet, the next time he plans to go to Leo Coffee, all he finds is the same coffee shop which has been here for years already, the afternoon crowd populating the tables and several diligent employees taking care of the customers.

Somehow, Mark isn’t the least bit surprised.

#rainbow six siege #smoke #mute #smoke/mute #zero #fanfic #oneshot #I combined a few things I know you like and hopefully it's the same with the result #I want to remind you that there is no need to retaliate #but also that'd mean I've won this war

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hplovefat · 3 years

Text

Tracked down a classic

The Waist Lines

Tuesday, 30 December 2014

A Fattening Study

This one's inspired by a real-life actual overeating experiment.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dAQr77QMJiw

However, I changed it up so that the participants had to gain way more weight in a longer period of time.

“First of all I want to thank you all for coming. We realize that we are asking for quite a bit of sacrifice on your part, but we want to ensure you that it’s going towards a great study. When I call your name please take your binder. It will contain nutrition guidelines and general information you need to follow for the next nine months.” Said a slender grad student in a lab coat. He’s trying to calm anyone down with cold feet meanwhile the only thing keeping me in this building is the money. “Get paid to eat” that was the subject line of the email my roommate sent me for the application to be apart of this study. Little did I know that it was a study on obesity and that applicants have to agree to gain weight every month in order to get the paycheck. Not only that but I have to be poked and prodded by doctors checking my overall health. But living in the city is expensive and working as a barista paid jack squat. “Thomas?” The grad student called my name. I walked up to the Doctor McDreamy wannabe and received a binder with my name on it. Inside were some general guidelines on nutrition so participants wouldn’t need a coronary bypass, a credit card with our monthly allowance for groceries, and also some rules for the study. For my body type I needed to eat at least 3000 calories a day, just to start off with! I skipped to the back of the binder and was horrified to see by month eight I wouldn’t be allowed to eat less than 9000 calories a day. “I’m going to have to buy maternity clothes.” I muttered under my breath. A man beside me laughed. He must have heard me. I tried not to blush with embarrassment as his name was being called, “Axl?”

“That’s me.” He lightly replied. Axl was slender, as were all the participants for the study. One of the requirements was to be no higher than 11% body fat if you were a man and no higher than 18% body fat if you were a woman. All twenty participants had the same slender frame, including myself. My beer loving roommate Joey wanted to earn some extra cash doing these crazy experiments, but his gut got him rejected from this one, so of course he sends it to me. I looked down at my flat stomach, “I’m going to get a gut like Joey’s aren’t I?” I thought to myself. It sent a shiver down my spine. Axl comes back with his binder, “Hey, I’m Axl. You look nervous.”

“Oh… maybe a little. I really need the money, but I’ve always watched what I’ve ate, y’know?” I replied.

Axl smiled, “It’s alright. The way I see it, even if they kick you out half way that’s still a lot of money. And how hard can it be to shed a few pounds?”

“So what’s your reason for doing this?” I asked.

“I’m a little short for cash too, but also I just broke up with my gym freak of a boyfriend. I need to let go a little. Despite what he thinks my life shouldn’t revolve around my six pack.”

The grad student gave out the last binder to a tiny woman with the narrowest face I have ever seen. “Alright that’s everyone! Thanks so much again. You’ll notice that your monthly allowance for food is probably higher than you expected, but trust me you will go through it quickly. I hope your appetites are good because your nine month journey starts now.” With that, the participants started leaving the building. Some lifted up their shirts, jokingly saying goodbye to their abs. Do people think this is funny? “I think you need to lighten up.” Axl said to me as we leave the building. “It’s going to be a little disturbing, but it’s just getting fat. Is that really a big deal?”

“I guess not.” I replied, unsure of myself.

“Let’s go grocery shopping together, shake off some of the nerves and I’ll give you a ride home.” Sure beats taking the bus, I thought.

“That actually sounds great. Thank you.”

That afternoon Axl and I got our own grocery carts and filled them to the brim with what we had to eat. Our guidelines suggested chicken breasts and coconut milk, but Axl filled his cart with donuts and pastries. I threw in some butter tarts into my cart too, a secret indulgence of mine, but now I was free to eat the entire box. Axl dropped me off in front of my apartment. My arms weighed down by the bags upon bags of high calorie food I needed to eat that week. I squeezed my way through to the front door, my roommate Joey waiting for me. “So how was your first day man?! You look fatter already.”

“I haven’t started yet you knob.” I laughed, “I have to eat all this by next Monday.” Joey took a glimpse upon the mountain of food I was storing away in our kitchen.

“Aw man, I can’t wait to compare beer guts with you!”

I made tortellini that night with the heaviest cream sauce I could find at the grocery store. I had to eat the entire pot to make my quota for that day. As I shoved the last morsel into my mouth I could see Joey staring at me with the utmost delight. He thought this was hilarious. His skinny roommate Thomas was going to get as fat he was. I put my hand over my bloated stomach and tried not to think too much of it.

One week into the experiment and I could feel a difference. I could not remember what it was like to not be bloated. In order to meet my daily calorie intake, I had to gorge myself with a huge breakfast of pancakes and sausage immediately followed by my shifts at the café. Joey all the while laughing everyday at the feasts I have to prepare for myself as he sits on the couch drinking beer. I know for a fact he’s sneaking into my groceries, picking out bacon and pastries for himself. After my shift at work I went down to the grocery store to restock. “Hi there stranger.” It was Axl. “Need to stock up again eh?”

“I do. I didn’t think it was possible, but I ate everything in my cart last week.” I looked up at Axl. His face was fuller. You could even see button down shirt straining on his build. “Wow you’re really taking this seriously, you’ve filled out a little since I last saw you.”

“Ha!” He replied, “Believe me it wasn’t easy. Listen, you don’t have to stock up at the grocery store every week, there’s more than enough money in our allowance to eat out.”

“Is it allowed?”

“Of course silly! Me and a few other participants from the study are getting pizza and beer tonight, you should join us. Getting down those last few bites is a lot easier with help.”

“That sounds amazing, I could really use a break from my roommate.”

That night I met Axl and few of the other participants at a bar downtown. Everyone seemed to have a story about their first week. One guy named Andrew said he ate so much the first day he puked. Another girl named Jessie was doing this to get back at her ex who said she wasn’t curvy enough. It seemed the one thing in common with everyone is that they were enjoying this gluttonous time. The beer felt bottomless and it felt like our group ordered one of everything off the menu. I scarfed down as much pizza as I could, but I was bloated beyond belief from the beer. Axl and Andrew looked at me and then looked at my final slice. They immediately ran over to me. Andrew held my bloated stomach and Axl lifted the pizza off the plate. “C’mon you can do it.” yelled Axl. “We believe in you!” joked Andrew. It might have been the fact I was piss drunk, but I was excited for this help. I slowly but surely swallowed bite by bite of the pizza Axl fed me as the rest of the group cheered on. After the last bite there was a loud “huzzah” from the group and I rest my hands on my stomach. My face was red and sweaty from the endeavor. I just ate an entire large pizza by myself. “Thomas just doubled his quota today everybody!” screamed a drunken Jessie. Another loud “huzzah” came from our group. Double? I thought. If I keep to my quota I should already be gaining quite of bit of weight. I unbuttoned my jeans and looked forward to the next month.

A month goes by and I meet up with the rest of the group at the research building to get our monthly checkup. Joey insisted he come with me to my first weigh in. Axl finally got to meet him today after a month of me ranting about my drunken roommate. I change into skintight boxer-briefs for the weigh in and body fat test. I walk into the room and Joey’s face lights up with a horrible grin. “What?” I ask.

“Dude look at that!” he points to my stomach. It had been protruding more and more over the past month, but I didn’t think it was that bad. I started to pat my newfound gut, shaking it up and down. “As least it’s not as big as yours.” I lifted up Joey’s shirt his furry beer belly flopped down over the waist of his jeans. “You’ve been stealing my food haven’t you? You’ve definitely gotten chubbier too.” Axl then walks in, just finished with his checkup. “Are we comparing bellies?” Axl lifted up the front his shirt revealing a soft paunch. The outlines of a six pack were faded and his pecs were softer too. “I gained 21 pounds this month. Doctor says that’s the highest of all the participants so far.”

“My god!” I exclaimed. “Is that normal?”

“The first month is supposed to be a little extreme. And it looks like you’re not far behind me buddy.” Axl patted the top of my belly and watched it jiggle. The doctor walked and Axl, Joey and I pull down our shirts. “Alright Thomas, first thing I’m going to do is weigh you. You’re friends can stay as long as you don’t mind the company.”

“No way I’m missing this.” Replied Joey. The doctor and I both look at him. “They can stay. I don’t mind.”

I hopped on the scale and I could sense the doctor observing my paunch and my ass for signs of weight distribution. “At the beginning of the experiment you were 160 pounds, today you are… 179. Very interesting.” Joey and Axl burst out laughing. “I’ve gained almost twenty pounds? In a month…” I responded. “Yes.” The doctor replied, “You and another young lad are tied for second for rapid weight gain.”

“Number one being me.” Axl boasted patting his stomach.

“You realize that you will have to increase your daily calorie intake…” The doctor exclaimed as he began to measure my waist, “both of you.” Pointing to me and Axl. “As for you.” Looking at Joey, “You should consider switching to light beer.”

The three of us walked to the lobby to pick up our paychecks. Joey left leaving Axl and I waiting in line with the other participants who had just gotten out of their examinations. “My boobs have gotten so big.” One girl exclaimed. “I can’t even button my slacks.” Said another guy. I picked up my check and I’m immediately bombarded with invites to go out and eat. I couldn’t resist the company of these people and Axl was buying.

For my second examination, I had to schedule the day after everyone else’s due to a work emergency. I didn’t get to see Axl or the rest of the expanding gang. This month I was forced to eat no less than 4000 calories a day. Apparently I had no trouble because I managed to get up to 193 pounds. I had gained over 30 pounds since the experiment started and I wasn’t even halfway done. A portion of this month’s paycheck had to go into buying new clothes. None of my pants could button and the black polo I wore to work was riding up. If I wasn’t wearing an apron people would see the underside of my gut. When it comes to any humiliating aspect of this process, naturally Joey wants to come along. Joey took the doctor’s advice to heart this month. He switched to light beer. He’s just as drunk, but not getting any fatter. Good for Joey… I guess. I squeezed my ass into a pair of 34’s lifting up my paunch in order to get better a view of the button. Joey waited outside the changing room with his devilish smirk, holding my bags of medium to large shirts and enjoying himself a little too much. “Did you say those are 34’s?” asked Joey.

“Yeah.” I replied, “But there a little snug, I think I’ll go up a size, maybe some room to grow.”

“That’s kinda funny.” Joey smirked, “Because 34’s are what I wear buddy. You’re just as big as me!”

“There’s no way.” I replied.

“Wanna bet?” Joey pulled me to the change room mirror. He lifted up his shirt and gestured for me to lift up mine. Low and behold, my gut was almost as big as Joey’s beer belly. His was remarkably more furry, but the size was undeniably close. “You’re still a little bigger.” I exclaimed.

“Yeah maybe, but you’re catching up pretty quick tubby.” He replied patting my gut.

After I got home, I quickly changed into my comfortable size clothes and headed to the grocery store. I found it harder and harder to follow the nutrition plan while still consuming enough calories. I had to resort to donuts and bacon and other super fatty, sugary goods on top of the chicken breasts and potatoes just to make the quota. I pushed my overloaded cart to the checkout aisle when a familiar face walked up to me. “Hey man I haven’t seen you in a couple weeks.” Axl was behind me with his cart. He gut protruded a little more, but he didn’t look much bigger. “How was your checkup? Any big changes?” I asked.

“I only gained 11 pounds this month. I had a little bit of a cold. Slowed down my eating. But look at you, you’ve got a proper gut there!”

I could feel myself blushing, “Yeah I know. I had to buy new clothes today.”

“Oh my god. I need to get some new jeans stat.” Axl lifted the front part of his shirt to reveal that his jeans were only done up to the second button. The rest strained to support his belly. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Listen, you should come by my place. I’ll cook dinner and we can catch up.”

I took up on Axl’s offer and went over to his apartment for what I imagine to be a feast of a dinner. The second I walked in the door he threw me a beer. Axl laid out a platter of meat and cheese and told me to dive in while he was cooking the pasta. I stuffed myself with almost every bite of the fettuccini. “I feel like I’m going to burst. I can’t possibly eat anymore.” I exclaimed. Axl, put down his fork finishing off his meal. Axl’s pants had become completely unbuttoned during the meal to make room for his bloated stomach. “C’mon, we’re almost at our quota. Here, let me help you.” Axl hoisted himself out of his seat and waddled towards me. He bent down and unbuttoned my new jeans. “There. Now you have some room.” I felt the zipper sliding down from the pressure of my bloated gut. Axl then grabbed the last forkful of pasta and lifted it up to my mouth. With a great amount of strength I swallowed the last morsel and sighed with relief. Axl and I sat on his couch watching TV burping and letting the meal settle. I headed home around midnight that night. When I got through the front door I turned on the light and to my surprise Joey was sitting on the couch. “Oh hey.” He says with a muffled tone, “I thought you were spending the night at Axl’s.” Joey was shirtless his mouth, chest, and beer gut covered in crumbs and smears of chocolate. “You’re eating my food? Joey, the reason I bought this stuff is because it’s all super high in calories in fat. I need it for my diet.”

“I dunno. It seems like you’re doing pretty well without it.” He responded pointing and my unbuttoned jeans.

“Yes. Axl stuffed me with pasta tonight. Now move over.” I collapsed on the couch beside Joey, my medium black t-shirt riding up over my navel. I took an éclair out of the box and started scarfing it down. “I thought you said you were stuffed?” asked Joey. “I said I was stuffed… about an hour ago. I’m hungry all the time now.” Joey looked at his gut and than looked at mine. For the first time since the experiment started, Joey’s smirk faded away. “Dang dude. You’re… you’re going to get fat.”

“I know.” I swallowed the last bite of the éclair and immediately grabbed another from the box, “believe me dude I know.”

Third month’s examination was more intense than the first two. Blood tests and fitness tests were included. I had to wear track shorts and an under armor shirt I hadn’t worn since the experiment began. I wheezed running on the treadmill as the doctor waited eagerly to check my vitals. He could not stop staring at my belly, which hung on my waist, the underside exposed by the tight shirt. After being poked and prodded I was given a towel and was told I could wait in the lobby for my paycheck. Joey was waiting outside wearing the same sweatpants for the past week. A lot of his pants barely close ever since I started letting him eat from my groceries. He handed me a hoodie to cover up my protruding belly, but it gets swiped away from Axl who just got out of his physical. “Hold on there buddy don’t cover up just yet, I haven’t got a chance to look at you yet!” Axl pushed my shirt up towards my softening pecs to expose my gut fully. He cupped the bottom and started chuckling. “Great process buddy! Where are you at now?”

“I broke 200. Doc says I’m overweight now.” I replied.

“Ha! I broke 200 last month, but good for you it means you’re still qualified for the money! A couple girls and one guy dropped out. Couldn’t handle embracing the lack of vanity I guess.” All the participants were getting just as fat as I was. Girls’ breasts and hips were bulging out of their sides, stomachs protruding out of their shirts, while the guys’ paunches were turning into solid beer guts. “Just gotta keep thinking about that paycheck I guess.” I exclaimed.

“Yeah the money’s great, but I’m loving this.” Axl lifted his sweatshirt to reveal his belly, pushing it out to emphasize its roundness. It hung over his the waistband of his tight sweatpants. This month I spent a lot of time with Axl. I would go over to his place for meals or he would come visit mine. We go out to eat with the other participants or sometimes just with each other. No matter what, however, Axl would always end up feeding me after I felt like I was going to pop. I never had to do the same for him. Axl had a ferocious appetite and it was rubbing off on me.

Two months later into the experiment and even though I had to buy bigger clothes again, I was really enjoying my time with Axl. My weight gain had steadied putting me at around 215 pounds at my last examination. Axl who was a couple inches taller than me weighed in at 234 pounds. No matter how many times we compared guts his was always bigger. It felt like I was never going to catch up. Joey and I got to the examination early. It was evident that we both had gotten noticeably bigger as we squeezed through the turnstile doors. I changed into my boxer briefs and waited for the doctor to arrive. I sat in the chair and let my belly sit on my lap. Joey sat across from me, eyes glaring. “See something you like?” I asked.

“Dude, you’re really fat now. Like… it’s not even the gut anymore. Your face is rounder and by God your thighs are getting enormous. I think you’re bigger than me now.”

“Joey, I let you eat my food. You must have gained 20 pounds since I started.” I got up and felt my gut shake. I pointed to my protruding belly. “This is a desperate attempt to get some cash. This however…” I lifted up Joey’s shirt. “This is from being a total pig.”

“Vent all you want dude.” Joey replied pulling his shirt down over his furry beer gut, “That’s not going to change the fact that we are the same height, but I weigh only 215 pounds when you clearly weight more than that.” The doctor walked in with his morning coffee. “Hello Thomas. You’re making quite some progress. It’s not a race you know.” I looked down and my swollen pudge hanging over the waistband of my boxerbriefs and laughed uncomfortably. Joey smirked as I got on the scale. “229 pounds.” Said the doctor. “Told ya you were bigger than me.” Joey exclaimed. I had gained almost 70 pounds since this experiment had started. I changed into my sweat pants and a large hoodie and was about to leave when Axl popped his head into the doctor’s office door, “Hey! Sorry are you done, I was little late to my physical today.” I smiled and nodded as I let Axl into the room.

“You can stay if you like.” Axl said as he started stripping into his underwear. “I’m not shy.” Axl stood in the doctor’s office with nothing but skin-tight boxer briefs. He must’ve had them when the experiment started because they barely covered his ass.. The doctor gestured him to hop on the scale. “230 pounds.” Everyone’s expression dropped. “I lost weight?” Axl asked.

“It appears so.” The Doctor replied, “Have you been consuming enough calories?”

“And then some.” Axl responded, “Just ask Thomas.”

“Believe me he’s been eating just as much as me.” I replied.

“This happens a lot, especially with young men. Your metabolism has kicked into overdrive and it makes it harder to put on weight. Unfortunately, this is an overeating and obesity experiment and it requires all participants to gain a steady amount of weight for nine months. If you plateau we’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“C’mon doc!” I exclaimed. “Look at him. Feel the size of his gut, look how big his ass has gotten and his second chin is coming in. He’s gained a ton of weight and now you’re kicking him out ‘cause he had bad month?”

“Axl has been on our watch for the most rapid body fat percentage increase… If he gains weight this month… we can keep him in the experiment.” Axl and I sighed with relief. There’s no way I could continue on without my encourager. “Thanks buddy.” said Axl as he put his jeans and t-shirt on. “Don’t mention it. And don’t worry we’re going to help each other. I going to get you busting out of those jeans before this month is over.” That night Axl came over to my apartment. We ordered a mountain of thai food and then I stuffed him full of donuts that I swiped out of Joey’s hands. There was one more donut left. “Thanks Thomas, but I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.”

I bent down and unbuttoned Axl’s jeans and watched the force of his swollen gut push down the fly. “There. Now you have more room.” We both smiled as I lifted the last donut to his mouth. That night Joey, Axl and I passed out on my futon.

A month of almost daily encouragement later, I took Axl out for a large, heavy breakfast before our weigh in, just to be safe. The diner beside the research building had great pancakes and waffles. We ate like pigs, but I made a special effort to stuff Axl. The button on his jeans haven’t been able to close for the past week, as I had promised. As we were about to leave we bumped into Andrew and Jessie, “Hey guys! We haven’t seen you in a while. You got… big” They said as they were getting up from their table. They both had gotten noticeably fatter, Jessie with her wide hips and double chin and Andrew with his ball belly, but it was true, no one could compare to Axl and I. We walked into the research building together. Joey was waiting on bench outside the doctor’s office. “Where were you guys? I’ve been waiting.”

“Sorry Joey, we got breakfast for one final stuffing session.” I replied.

“And you didn’t invite me?” He asked.

“I don’t think you need any more big breakfasts pal.” I poked Joey’s beer belly that was pushing out of his extra large plaid shirt. “You’re not even getting paid.” Joey sucked in his gut the best he could and tried to adjust his shirt out of embarrassment. Andrew, Jessie, Axl, and I decided we would do our weigh ins together this time. Even Joey wanted in on the action. We walked into the doctor’s office and stripped. A big “woof” came from everyone when I took of my shirt. I did a quick truffle shuffle, my newest and now most common party trick. The doctor walked in slightly shocked by the small group of half naked fat people in his office. Axl was the first to get up on the scale. Everyone gave his gut a slap for good luck. “248 pounds.” Said the doctor. Axl cheered and immediately gave me a hug. I our bellies pressed together and I could feel my breakfast coming up so I pushed him aside so we could get to my turn. “251 pounds.” Said the doctor. For the first time in six months I was heavier than Axl..Joey walked over to me like a proud father. “Look at that monster! I remember when this one freaked out when we had the same size jeans. Now look.” He shoved his gut up against mine. Mine was definitely larger and I got love handles and a bigger ass to boot. After everyone was done getting examined – Joey weighed in at 230 pounds – I changed into my jeans. They were a stretched out size 38. I squeezed the button close and let my belly flop over the waist. I looked at myself in the mirror. I grabbed my gut and shook it up and down. I was able to lift the entire thing with my hands. I turned to look at my love handles that had become more prominent as well as my beefier thighs and ass. Axl stepped beside me and started to do similar things. “Yep, They’re real.” He joked. He gave my gut a good slap and left the doctor’s office. I put my sweater on and looked at myself in the mirror again. When I pictured myself fat and I imagined something more horrifying than what I saw in front of me. I thought it was going to be gross, but I liked my larger frame. I like how soft my man boobs felt, I liked the way my gut protruded out of everything I owned. I walked into the lobby letting my gut relax, showing off what I had accomplished in the past 6 months. I was surprised to see a mountain of pizza boxes. The researchers decided to give us a little extra thanks this month. For the next two hours I watched 15 overfed, overstuffed participants pig out on pizza. I was forced to unbutton my jeans and have everyone come up to me asking if they could feel my gut.

The final three months of the experiment were not easy. Axl and I had to eat up to 10,000 calories a day. Luckily we had each other to help. Joey grew out a scraggly beard, went back to regular beer and took up the same eating habits I had. He was constantly trying to best Axl in eating contests, but would always lose. The pigging out really impacted is waistline. Joey was fatter than ever and he didn’t even get paid for it. For the final examination the participants were encouraged to wear the clothes they wore on the first day. I waddled into the building jeans unbuttoned and below my ass. The shirt I wore on my first day barely covered my navel and would roll up underneath my supple man boobs. Joey was behind me wearing track pants and a t-shirt that barely covered his huge, furry gut. “Let me take a look you… one last time.” He told me.

“I’m not going to be able to lose the weight over night Joey. You’re going to be seeing this for quite a while.” Joey grabbed my gut and started rubbing it.

“I know dude, but I just feels like yesterday that this monster was just a little guy and now look at it!”

I lifted Joey’s shirt. “Yours isn’t bad either pal.” Joey looked down and started lifting his beer belly up and down, feeling the weight. Axl then walked in wearing the same jeans that were not completely unbuttoned and rided below his ass. He also wore a button down shirt that only buttoned in the middle exposing his massive gut. All the participants wore similar things, exposing all the places they gained weight. It was clear everyone was obese as the experiment entailed. Axl came up to me, gave me a kiss, and immediately started lifting my gut up and down. “You’re looking good Thomas. Still nervous?”

“Nah. You look good too buddy.”

“Hey lover boys!” yelled Joey from the doctor’s office. “Research guy is waiting for ya.” I hopped on the scale. While I waited for the numbers to adjust I noticed the grad student who handed me my binder on the first day was weighing me. His face was fuller though and he had a small gut protruding out of his button down shirt. “Gained a little weight too eh?” I asked jokingly.

“Yeah, a little. You folks have been rubbing off on me.” The numbers finally stopped.

“Thomas your final weight is, 304 pounds.”

“I broke 300?!”

“First one today. You proud of yourself?” The grad student asked.

I smiled and hopped off the scale. After some more tests I found out I had tripled my body fat percentage as well. I looked at myself in the mirror as I pulled up my impossibly tight jeans. I had become a genuine fat ass. It was Axl’s turn to get on the scale.”Axl your final weight is 315 pounds.”

“I put on 150 pounds?”

“Yep. Heaviest so far.” Exclaimed the grad student.

Axl started to chuckle, his belly shaking simultaneously. Afterwards everyone moved into the lobby for a few photos. Everyone was laughing and comparing bellies. The grad student got up and started to make a speech. “I want to thank everyone here again. I’m so glad you were able to treat this entire process with a great sense of humor. And to show my support I will confess that I’ve gained 20 pounds as well.” The grad student lifted his shirt to show off his paunch and the entire group cheered. He pulled down his shirt and continued to speak. “I also have some good news for anyone who is interested. I know some of you are eager to hit the gym and to shed these extra pounds, but the lab is offering an extended research participant contract to anyone in this study who is obese, which luckily is all of you.” Everyone looked at each other puzzled. “You would continue to get paid and all you would have to do is maintain or gain weight for the next year. Any takers?” Axl’s hand shot straight up. Mine quickly followed.

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marvinswriting · 4 years

Text

water

hurt/comfort(/hurt?) fic one ;) dw guys its not to bad in the hurt/comfort range,,,i’ve written worse. GENERALIZED TW: death (fear of it, mentioned, and/or, actual death); graphic descriptions of pain; water and fear of drowning; general sickness mg borrower (roommates) au

There were lots of things borrowers weren't taught as a kid that my roommates and I thought were normal and Damian couldn't believe.

Like, basic math, what a hot pocket was, or swimming. And that's just naming a few.

We had all the skills we needed to know to survive. Nothing more and nothing less.

I remember sitting in Damian's room on one particularly hot day. We were talking about my childhood. Damian found it crazy that we were expected to move out and survive on our own at such a young age.

It's probably one of the only reasons Gretchen, Kevin, and I stuck together when we meet. All scared young teenagers who just needed a home. Kevin's the oldest, then Gretchen and then me. I met them on my first night in the outdoors. Kevin had just evacuated because he had been caught and Gretchen was on the verge of death from being without a home and food for months. Under any other circumstance, I don't think we would have banded together.

"So you're telling me, you're parents taught you thirteen different ways to tie a knot, but you can't swim?"

"There isn't exactly a residency borrower pool where I can get taught. Besides, I'm never around big bodies of water. Being able to use a rope is a much more necessary skill. We have to climb everywhere."

"I just can't wrap my head around it." Damian paused for a moment. "Is that why you hate the sink?"

"That and the big daunting drain at the bottom."

I smiled at the memory. Just as I found Damian's life interesting, he found mine entertaining as well. Apparently, it's not normal to be doing life or death activities like borrowing at age eleven and moving out to never see your parents again by thirteen.

Damian says humans move out typically around age eighteen.

We're seventeen now, I don't want to think about the house without him.

My hand slips, jolting me back to reality. I really need to pay attention. I'm currently climbing up the counters. Its mid-day and I'm halfway up, which is probably the most reckless thing I've done since meeting Damian. But- Kevin and Gretchen were sick and somebody needed to get them water. The thimble in my arms is making it hard to climb and I really should wait till night, but Kevin is burning up hotter then any of us have ever been and they're both so dehydrated. Kevin can barely move and each time Gretchen breathes it triggers a fit of dry heaving and coughs.

I may not like my roommates but I really don't want them to die.

But- my hand slips again- I also should focus on not dying in the process of getting them help.

I'm only holding onto the rope with one hand and with the amount it's sliding down it feels like I'm making no progress.

I can't tell if my mind is replaying the ghost coughs of my roommates or if Gretchen is heaving so loud I hear it from here.

Fuck.

I'm sick too, but not in nearly as bad of shape as those two. I just feel weaker, and scaling a kitchen island isn't a low key activity. It works the full body. And I'm not doing too hot.

When I finally reach the top of the counter I feel dizzy. I toss the thimble onto the marble and hoist myself up, cringing at the clatter the metal makes.

Nobody in the house seems to hear it. I think Damian and his parents are in the other room watching a movie together. I heard the TV go on while climbing and almost had a heart attack, but none of the Hubbards have entered the kitchen for snacks yet.

I lay half on the counter trying to catch my breath. My face feels hot and theirs a ghost tickled of a cough at the back of my throat. That scares me more than anything.

Each time I heave for air my lungs feel tighter as I press the side of my face to the cool marble.

My body wanted to shut down and fall asleep right here but I needed to get water for my roommates. Besides, I'm still out in the open.

I push myself fully onto the counter and retrieve the thimble. The world sways slightly and I try to ignore it in favor of walking over to the sink.

This was my least favorite part of borrowing. Kevin typically did it.

But Kevin is passed out with a fever right now.

The sink was slippery with dish soap residue around it. I peered over into the undrained sink. Plates and utensils were sticking out under the murky water.

It was up high enough that if I leaned over, I could scoop up some of that and call it a day.

No.

Gretchen and Kevin needed real water.

Or else they could-

I didn't finish the thought.

Yeah, Kevin and Gretchen were probably the most annoying people I've ever met, but they were practically family. We've been living together for four years. We've seen each other and lows and highs. From life-threatening sickness to Grechen's on her period be careful she might throw something at you.

The walls would be so quiet without them.

I don't notice there I'm crying until a tear lands in the water I'm leaning over, creating small ripples through it.

My stomach twists as the realization of how bad this could be dawns on me.

We aren't doctors.

We're borrowers.

The best we can do for sickness is a cold washcloth and hydration.

If it's a life or death sickness, death often wins.

I can't let it happen.

I clear my throat trying to will the urge to cough away and grab my rope out of my bad, leaving the rest of my tools abandoned on the counter. I hook the rope around the faucet handle with one arm, the other arm still holding the thimble.

I haven't gotten the water in so long, I forgot how hard it was to pull the handle. No matter how hard I tug the rope, it won't move. It's hard to get a footing with all the soap as I lean away from the sink.

Fuck!

Why was borrowing so hard?

I hear footsteps approaching the kitchen and I panic. My tools are lying everywhere, there is a rope around the faucet handle and I'm right in the open.

I drop the rope and step away from the faucet. It's not worth it, I need to hide-

Damian walks into the kitchen, looking over his shoulder as he yells something at his parents.

Oh.

I step over to grab my rope again. Since its just Damian, I can-

As I put all my weight on one foot to reach the rope, my foot slips on the soap.

I almost didn't notice I was falling at first, the world had been spinning the whole time anyway. It was only until my brain caught up with the feeling of gravity did I let out a yelp. My arms flailed, as the thimble slipped from my grasp.

I was falling into a fucking sink.

All the borrower horror stories I thought I outgrew as a kid came flooding back to me as I hit the water.

My uncle drowned in a sink. My cousin fell into an empty sink and was caught by humans. My father almost fell down the drain and died if it wasn't for my mom to save him. My mother's childhood roommate also drowned in a sink.

Nothing good happens in the sink.

This is why Kevin gets the water.

I don't know what I'm doing.

Oh god.

The water was ice cold. I felt it seep through my jacket and layers of clothing, weighing me down. The soapiness burned when I opened my eyes and I couldn't tell which way was up. It was a white fog all around.

The was no oxygen.

I knew better than to try and breathe.

I'm gonna die.

Wasn't Damian in the room?

What if he finds my body.

Kevin and Gretchen will never know what happened to me.

The white fog was being replaced with black spots dancing on my vision.

My roommates need their water.

I glance around the kitchen.

I wasn't going crazy, right?

I was getting popcorn for the movie my parents and I were going to watch.

I swore I heard Janis.

Maybe I was going crazy.

My eyes trail over all the places a borrower could be in the room. She wasn't on the floor, there was nobody on the counters-

My eyes land on a abandons tool bag on the counter by the sink. There's a rope on the faucet handle. A borrower was definitely here.

It wasn't like any of them to just leave their tools out in the open.

I looked to the sink.

No.

"Janis?" I ask softly, rushing across the kitchen.

I look across the counters one last time. Hoping I just missed her.

The sink was filled with dirty water. Ew.

Whoever did the dishes last really needs to learn not to leave the stopper in.

My eyes fall to a thimble floating in the water, half full with the murky liquid.

Did- did Janis fall?

I could feel my heart stop at the possibility.

"Janis," I call out once more, my hand hovering over the water. "Where are you hiding?"

There was no response.

Where were Kevin and Gretchen? Was Janis left to do such a daunting task alone?

My eye is drawn back to the sink as small bubbles surface.

Oh my god.

It's all I needed to dip my hand into the water.

Janis was in there.

I cringe at how cold it is.

My heart was pounding. As much as I wanted to find Janis, part of me wished I didn't. That I was wrong and shes okay somewhere.

Maybe she's hiding on purpose.

My hand touched something soft and warm in contrast to the cold water. For a second I froze.

What am I doing? Fucking grab her!

My hand wraps gingerly around the small form, and I can feel Janis's hand grab my finger. Her grip is lose but its a small sign of life. I let out a shaky breath and I lift my hand out of the water.

She's okay.

Well-

The second I gently place Janis on the counter shes shaking with coughs. Her entire body wreaks as she spits water onto the counter next to her and gasps for air.

I'm momentarily worried my parents might hear over the movie, but I've got bigger things to stress about.

"Are you okay?" I ask softly as the coughing dies down.

Janis looks up at me. There are tears in her eyes and she's shivering.

"I thought I was gonna die." There was so much fear in her voice as it cracks.

My heart breaks at the sight of her. Yes, she normally looked small, I mean- she's a borrower. But seeing her with her knees to her chest trembling? Janis had shrunk in on herself so much it reminded me of when we first met. When she had herself pushed up against the wall to hide from Ariel.

"Jan," I reach out my hand but hesitate. I don't know if she wants to be touched.

"I'm so cold." She whispers letting out another weak cough.

"Take off your jacket," I say.

"What? But then I'll be more co-"

"No," I cut her off softly. "You're jacket is soaking. That's probably the biggest reason why you're cold."

Janis nods and begins to strip off the layers stuck to her skin. I grab a dish towel, one of the smallest I can find. It's still huge compared to Janis.

"C'mere." I say softly. Janis shakily stands up, stepping away from the small puddle she's created on the counter, leaving her jacket behind. She's still got her arms wrapped around herself.

"I'm fine, just a little cold." She insists, but she allows me to scoop her up gently anyway.

"Yeah, well its gonna be a bigger cold if you don't dry off." I say placing her in my hand with the towel. I wrap her in it closely and hold the hand to my chest so I can clean up the water.

"What happened anyway?" I ask, fishing the thimble out of the sink before pulling the drain. Not letting that happen again.

"Kevin and Gretchen need water." Janis said, a level of panic in her voice.

"So they sent you to get it?"

"They're really sick."

I can tell Janis is trying to hide her emotions, but the fear seeps through.

"They needed water, I said I'd be quick."

I hug Janis closer. I wish I could help. I can feel her shivering though the towel snd she still lets out an occasional cough.

"The towel's wet now." She said quietly. "There was a lot of water."

I laugh softly. "You did fall in a sink." I placed her down momentarily on the counter before placing her jacket on the dry part of the towel and filling up the thimble for her. Janis watches as I turn the tap on with a look of envy.

"Stupid giant-sized taps." She mumbled.

I laugh, placing the thimble on the table and scooping her up.

Holding Janis always felt like holding one of those hand warmer packets, but right now she felt ice cold. She shivered, leaning tiredly into my touch.

"You're hands are warm." Her voice is soft as she looks up at me with half-lidded eyes.

"Don't fall asleep, love." I say wrapping my fingers gently around her in a vain attempt to stop her from shivering. "You gotta get the water back to your roommates."

My last sentence seems to snap her out of whatever adrenaline crash she hit. "Oh my god." She wiggles out of my grasp and I lower my hands to the counter before she can fall. Kevin and Gretchen must really be in bad shape because Janis is gathering her supplies with such speed and purpose you wouldn't know she just almost drowned. She scoops up her tools and the water before eyeing her jacket.

"I'll take it to my room," I offer. "You can come back for it when it's dry."

Janis visibly relaxes as she shoves rope into her bag. "Thank you so much, Damian. Not just for the jacket but for saving my life earlier and everything. That's the third time now." She stands up straight, slipping the bad on her shoulder and the thimble resting on her hip. "If I get a break from taking care of Kevin and Gretchen I may stop by."

I nod, picking up the wet tea towel and the tiny jacket. "I'll be waiting. Bye love."

"Love you."

I watched as Janis rushed over to the outlet on the counter, making sure she was safe and in the walls before leaving the kitchen, request to make popcorn long forgotten.

ive written worse hurt before,,,, this is just a warm up to fics to come. this is why i say take away my rights. I have to much power @realmisspolarbear @musicallygt @smallsoysauce @sourishlemons

#the hurt/comfort (hurt?) has begun #no post is safe #mg borrower au #borrower janis #giant damian #hurt/comfort #g/t #Giant/tiny #g/t writing

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laughing-with-god · 6 years

Text

Pandemonium X

Words: 3.2k

“We loved each other with a premature love, marked by a fierceness that so often destroys adult lives.” ~ Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita.

You have always upheld yourself to a certain code of ethics.

Never have you considered lying to those closest to you.

However, justice was not something that can easily be weighed out by a simple Libra scale. Should you risk telling the truth at the major risk (not even a risk really, when you know for certain that it will happen) that utter mayhem will occur in response? Or do you keep a secret in hopes of trading off your friends’ comfort for the trade of your -now- guilty conscious?

Should you tell her about Jungkook?

But, as you thought harder about it, you realised YOU didn’t even know what you would tell Kat. Even if you admitted to some sort of relationship with Jungkook, what would she say if she ever caught you with the other brothers? And if you became official in the eyes of Kat, would the whole school also have to know that you’ve entered a relationship with him? Not to mention, you were certain that the issue between Kat and Jimin was far from ever being water under the bridge. You cringed as an image of those two meeting once again popped inside your mind’s eye. No. Just….no.

Many people have lived double lives before, why can’t you be one of them? Besides, this was a temporary solution to the conundrum that was your student debt. You just needed your tuition to be paid off and then you’d drop all seven of them in a blink of an eye. And with seven grand a week, you’d be a lot closer to the departure than most other sugar babies could dream of.

You sighed and set your phone aside.

“Who is it?” Jungkook asked while shuffling your body a bit closer to his. You took a deep breath and put on a facade of an unbothered persona. If lying husbands who had affairs for years on end with illegitimate children can lie to their wives, why can’t you give it a go?

His lithe form felt hard against your much softer one as his muscular arms pulled you closer, as if you weighed nothing.

“Nothing.” You answered. Jungkook ‘tssk-ed’ and pushed his face closer to yours, eyes wide and peering intensely at you with disbelief, face innocently prodding at you for answers. You rolled your eyes at this attempted puppy face. “No one of importance, anyway. Just my roommate asking about some humus in the fridge and if it expired.” You shrugged.

Jungkook just giggled at this utterly boring detail and got a dreamy look on his face. “I wonder what it’s like to be roomates with you.” His musical tone purred.

“Not that great.” You admitted, “I have constant meltdowns and she’s always on my ass for my habits.”

“Like what?” Jungkook asked with his interest peaked.

“I’m just messy, and I play my music too loud and I sleep in too much and I forget to lock the door and silly shit like that.” You listed off.

“What a god awful roommate to be.” Kook chuckled. “I should offer your roommate a deal and pay her to kick you out so you can live with me.”

You laughed.

“I feel like I couldn’t put up with your habits, my sweet little boy of a man.” You cackled, picturing it so vividly in your head. Said manchild raised a brow in signal for you to clarify. “You probably use axe spray as febreeze or use paper towels as toilet paper when you run out.”

Jungkook rolled those big brown eyes before grumbling. “I’m not that hopeless.”

“Yeah, you probably just pay a poor little old maid to do all your bidding.” How could you forget that this dork of a man was the heir to a wealthy business chain and probably had a whole staff waiting on him hand and foot since before he was able to even crawl?

“I have you know, that Maria is more than just a maid to me. She’s like a mother,” Jungkook snobbishly defended. You snorted.

“Puh-lease. What’s her birthday?” You interrogated.

“........why does it matter?” Jungkook gave up at the revelation of his lack of knowledge towards the beloved ‘Maria’.

You snickered at the poor rich kid before opening your mouth to rebuttal, however before you got the chance to say anything, you were interrupted by the waitress dumping a large amount of breakfast food onto your table.

You pulled away from Jungkook (as much as he would allow) in order to stuff your face. And with that your brunch was continued in a comfortable silence, his toned arm never letting you pull too far away from him.

Much to his dismay, Jungkook had to drop you off.

He had wanted so badly to continue the day with you, but you had protested as you had many things to do.

Even now, he was pouting like a child denied candy as he pulled into your dorm parking lot. The overly expensive car groaned to a stop and thus began the awkward goodbyes.

All was silent in the vehicle as you clicked off your seatbelt.

Jungkook was stoic in his stubborn act of silence and glaring through the windshield, all the while still pouting.

“You act like I’m never going to see you again.” You chuckled before leaning over the passenger seat to violate his personal space, hovering an inch by his face. Ever so childish, the manchild refused to turn to even face you. “Baby, I’m not off to war.”

“You still could’ve hung out with me for a few more hours .” He whined, the sound weirdly intimate to your ears and a noise that you doubt you’ve heard the last of.

You plopped an overly loud kiss on his cheek, before leaning back and opening your door to exit. “Still more than what your brothers got.”

You stepped out and straightened up before leaning down the opened door to say one last thing to the now attentive fuckboy.

“By the way, let’s keep what happened last night to ourselves. We both know your brothers will go batshit if they find out.” You winked cheekily as Jungkook stuttered, right before you slammed the door shut.

“If you tell me that you didn’t get dicked down last night, I want you to turn around and exit right away.”

These were the words that welcomed you as you stepped into your cozy and under-sized dorm. You laughed and pulled your shoes off before joining your gloomy roommate on the sofa.

Kat shoveled in some more soggy cheerios into her mouth while glaring at you with those icy blue eyes.

“Last night was a blur Kat. But I swear nothing happened.” You attempted to brush it off as you leaned back into the lumpily-cushioned couch.

“Bitch! I call foul! I see a picture of you kissing one of the many fuckboys at our school, you don’t return at all last night and you come in early afternoon wearing a hoodie that I know for damn sure that you don’t own.” You laughed at how fucked you were. There was no way that you could get anything past the observant eye of Kat. But to your credit; it wasn’t like your cover-ups were that elaborate. You were still in Jungkook’s hoodie for god’s sake and you still haven’t offered an explanation to the picture that Kat saw. It didn’t take much detective work on your roommate’s part.

“Okay fine, I had a few drinks and kissed him. Then I went to his house and we just watched a movie and fell asleep. I swear nothing happened and I doubt I’ll ever see him again.”

“Feel free to walk right out that door. You seriously didn’t take up the opportunity to get some dick?!” Kat was flabbergasted and you just laughed at her half offended and humored expression.

“Kat, I would pull out my eyes before I let a fuckboy inside this tight ass pussy. Shit is reserved for worthy candidates, okay?” It was Kat’s turn to laugh boisterously and you mentally patted yourself on the back for averting the questioning with humor. You were a pro at it. “Listen, I’m going to jump in the shower real quick and try to wash off any axe spray lingering on me. Afterwards lets watch a movie or something, sound good?”

Kat just nodded and slurped up the last of the milk in her bowl while you retreated to the bathroom to wash up.

Before you can even strip or start the water, your phone rang with an onslaught of numerous notifications all at once. You flipped your phone over from its’ place on the bathroom counter to see whom was harassing you. It was the group chat. The hoes didn’t forget about their pimp.

‘......what were you doing last night, (Y/n)?’ Taehyung.

‘What’s with the creepy questions, Tae?’ Hoseok.

‘...oh….you know…..just wondering’ Taehyung.

‘(Y/n), did you still want to have brunch?’ Jimin.

‘It would be more of a lunch now.’ Jin.

‘I didn’t want to annoy her since she could’ve been sleeping, so I figured I’d wait till she woke up and texted to the chat. You know….LIKE A GENTLEMAN.’ Jimin

‘And what is it that you’re doing now, exactly?’ Yoongi

‘This chat is a pain in my ass.’ Namjoon.

You giggled while reading the brothers interaction with each other. It was humorous when you could observe it from behind the safety of your screen, immaginging Yoongi’s sarcastic voice or Namjoon’s montone and brooding voice.

‘I second that notion, Namjoon.’ You sent.

‘Baby! You’re up! Let me take you out, okay?’Jimin.

‘Yeah….about that….I kinda forgot about brunch all together and already ate….?’ You feebly lied.

‘....Oh really?’ Taehyung asked.

A sinking feeling came to you. Why is it that Taehyung could bring the most absurd reactions to you without even being there in person? You could even picture his stupid grin. From behind a

phone screen you still got the feeling that he knew something that you did not. And with that stunt he pulled earlier with your mother, you learned real quick not to underestimate the fucker.

‘Yuppers.’ You blandly answered.

What came next to the group chat was a picture sent from Taehyung.

It was a screenshot from someone’s snapchat story. It was slightly blurry and you clicked on it to enlargen the image to observe it closer.

It was of you and Jungkook, kissing behind the house where the party took place and it had the caption of ‘Lmao Kookie getting some!’

You were fucked.

Your phone buzzed more and more with what you were certain would be enraged texts from the others.

‘I swear to god, I’ll kill you Jungkook.’ Yoongi.

‘Why wouldn’t you tell us that she was at a college party?!’ Jin.

‘Baby! You shouldn’t be at parties like that! Something bad could happen to a young thing like you!” Jimin.

“Yeah, something like Jungkook’s fukboy tendencies….’ Yoongi.

“Hey! I’m not a fuckboy!” Jungkook.

‘Lmao, (Y/n) you’re not the first innocent girl to get tongue harassed by Jungkook. I’m SO sorry you had to experience that.’ Jin.

‘I heard his technique was sloppy.’ Taehyung.

‘Fuck you all in the ass. For the record, (Y/n) kissed me! And spent the night at my place AND we got brunch this morning. Suck on that, I win.’ Jungkook.

Your jaw dropped in horror.

Didn’t you tell him not to inform his brothers?! He might as well have said, ‘fuck you, i’m the shit, (Y/n).’

You were regretting the whole night with Jungkook. You should’ve known that the testosterone would’ve gotten to his pea-sized brain. All men really were useless.

‘Why tf would u kiss a boy when you could have a man?’ Namjoon.

Revenge reared it’s ugly head as you thought of a way to get back at the manchild who so easily went against his word after just sheer moments of you telling him NOT to tell.

‘Idk Namjoon. Perhaps you can take me out for dinner tonight and show me how a REAL man acts?’

‘Wait is she serious?’ Taehyung.

‘What is that supposed to mean, baby? Am I not man enough for you? Did our night mean nothing to you?’ Jungkook.

‘It did UNTIL YOU BETRAYED ME! Wtf! YOU UTTER STEROID HEAD ASS I TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL AND NOW ALL YOUR BROTHERS ARE GONNA BE ON OUR ASS!’

‘....Tae already found a picture tho?’ Jungkook.

‘DID HE FIND EVIDENCE THAT I SPENT THE NIGHT AT YOUR HOUSE AND HAD BRUNCH? NO! ISTG YOU’D BE THE WORST PARTNER IN CRIME!’

‘......What time should I pick you up?’ Namjoon.

Intensity didn’t even begin to explain the aura that Namjoon gave off.

Although you were a grown woman who never backed down from anyone, somehow Namjoon had the power to make you feel anxious. A thing you rarely felt towards a person.

You had invited the older man in a burst of anger, a desire to irritate Jungkook and had thought little about what it would be like to even share a meal with the male. But now that the time of his arrival was nearing, you just couldn’t help but have an internal panic attack at the doom of being one-one-one with him.

Brief your interacting with him may be, he never failed to leave a lasting impression. He stood out from his brothers. Even that day when they were fighting in the conference room, he had stayed back and observed the chaos with those calculating eyes of his. His deep baritone voice and his instant habit of calling you ‘Lolita’ when you first met. The nickname made you feel odd. Not in a bad nor a good way, just...odd. It was almost belittling you, like calling you a child. As from the novel, the character was a child. But it was also a child whom the main character was obsessed with. Enchanted, even. Was it insulting or degrading? Or was it just a unorthodox way he showed fondness?

‘I’m outside.’

You heart dropped and a tingling feeling dawned upon you.

Reluctantly, you left your dorm and went to meet your own personal ‘Mr. Humbert’.

It was rather easy to spot the Audi in the sea of crappy college student’s cars.

As you approached the car, you saw the tall and broad shouldered man get out from his side of the car. He was dressed in a nice suit without the tie and the first three buttons of his top undone, honey skin peaking out from underneath. His hair was still cold silver, but put together rather nicely, although a few strands were standing our freely in the front.

He smirked, one dimple making an appearance as he rounded to the other side of the luxury vehicle to open the passenger door for you.

The smell of another fancy cologne hit your nostrils and the closer you got to him, the size difference between you two became more apparent. You felt utterly small next to him. It wasn’t so much his size, as much as it was about his domineering vibe.

“Good evening, Nympet.” His bottomless voice pierced your ears.

“Listen, let’s keep this dinner short. I may or may not have a presentation due that I haven’t even begun.” You tried to play it off aloof, and even rude in a pathetic effort to not give him the upperhand in the power dynamic. You just nodded at him and slipped into the car after telling him of your ‘presentation’.

“My nymphet is a brat.” He muttered before shutting the door or giving you the chance to holler at him.

The restaurant was fancy and you never felt as inadequate as you did then; standing next to Namjoon in a cheap Forever 21 dress as your date of the night ordered the staff to take you two to the ‘private lounge’.

Have you ever seen a 1920’s gangster movie?

You know those scenes in those bars/restaurants where the booths are u-shaped and red while the lighting was dim and smoke from peoples cigars would fog up the room?

This was apparently the theme of this ‘private lounge’.

It looked straight out of a scene from the Godfather or something.

Namjoon guided you to one of the booths, with you sitting on one side and him on the other.

With a snap of his large fingers, Namjoon ordered the waiter to get you two the best red wine they had, his dark chocolate voice was commanding and you got the sense that even if the waiter wasn’t getting paid for this, he would still obey Namjoon’s orders.

And thus you were left alone as the waiter disappeared, leaving you in the lion’s den.

His almond eyes were very dark and bored into yours, the intensity almost leaving you breathless. You got the sense that he was analyzing you. You didn’t want to give him the impression that he was scaring you so you just stared right back with what bravery you could muster.

His face was oval shaped and reminded you of those statues or carvings that you would see at museums. His skin was olive-toned and he shared one thing in common with his brother Taehyung; they both had strong, Romanian features.

“You know, I should punish you for attempting to lie to me.” Namjoon purred, deep within his throat. The sound caused shivers but you quickly regained your composure and straightened up.

“Punish? Mr. Kim, I think we need to address your obvious control problem.” You snarked.

“It’s natural for a guy like myself to want to control a girl like you.”

You snorted, the noise completely breaking whatever ‘mafia-vibe’ the booth had going on.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Namjoon leaned back in his seat and the waiter magically materialized to pour wine into both of your guys’ glasses. Namjoon licked his lip and waited for the nuisance to leave, before picking up his glass and snapping his eyes back up to meet yours.

“Well, your obviously a submissive person. And I’m a dominant person.” He stated very colorless, before taking a sip of his drink.

Insulted you screeched, “I’m not a submissive! What are you on? Leave that weird BDSM stuff in the bedroom.”

“But, my little nymphet….you know it’s true.” His eyes bored so heavily into yours, making you unable to look away as the only thing that pierced your ears was the sound of his animalistic voice that unraveled your nerves, “ Behind your humorous act of aggression and sheer defiance, I know that there’s a submissive side that’s just begging to be taken care of. No one puts up such a character unless they have such an opposite persona lingering unconsciously inside them. Let me take care of you. Let me do it baby. You must be so tired of acting so headstrong all the time. With me, you’ll never have to do that again. I’ll be aggressive for you. I’ll take care of every little thing. Like a good dom does.” He paused to take another sip. “I’m quite offended on your little BDSM comment, by the way. A sub and dom relationship is quite sacred actually. We thrive off each other. The trust you will put onto me is exhilarating and the care I will put onto you will be addicting. It’s a give and take.”

You gulped.

In no way was your time with Namjoon going to be like the time spent with Jungkook.

(Author’s Note; GANG GANG! IM SO SORRY IV’E BEEN DEAD FOR SO LONG WRITERS, BLOCK SUCKS. Also thanks so much for 600 followers! the gif choice is a bit weird but I’m a huge Clark Gable fan (Nam even reminds me a bit of him lmao) and its kinda the mood that the boys have to Y/n when Kook kissed her. Let me know what you think of this chapter and Nam’s philosophy on dom/sub dynamics.)

1K notes · View notes

isobel-thorm · 4 years

Text

73 Questions

Tagged by: @returnofthepd3 Tagging: All y’all

On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? -10. I’ve got nothing to look forward to in life anymore and that’s finally starting to weigh on me.

Describe yourself in a hashtag? #CorgiMom

If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? I’ll pass.

If your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? “Come see the Human Afterthought.”

What’s one thing people don’t know about you? I mean I’m lonely af and try to get friendship going with lots of people so I’m entirely open and will talk about anything, so nothing.

What’s your wakeup ritual? Currently roll out of bed at 10am-11am, tune out whatever nonsense my dad is spewing that afternoon, pack more boxes, fruitlessly apply to jobs, and play RDR2.

What’s your favorite time of day? 7PM-1AM. Blessed alone/unbothered time in this house.

Your go to for having a good laugh? Talking to my college friends and The One That Got Away

Dream country to visit? England

What’s the biggest surprise you’ve had? My parents finally caving and letting me get a dog after we lost our first corgi two years prior/they didn’t want to “do all the doghair” again.

Heels or flats/sneakers? Sneakers but not flats. I’m a toe-walker so flats are a nightmare. I have better luck in heels than flats, and I don’t mind heels, but they just feel too formal for me.

Who do you want to write your obituary? The One That Got Away. He’ll do me justice and not get too preachy. He’ll have fun with it.

Style icon? Becca in Pitch Perfect, Carrie Underwood when she/her stylist is pairing stuff with jeans

What are three things you can’t live without? My dog, creativity, art supplies

What’s one ingredient you put in everything? Lemon Pepper

What 3 people living or dead would you like to make dinner for? The One That Got Away, my first senior year roommate, and... my three college best friends. No, I won’t narrow it down to three.

What’s your biggest fear in life? At this point it’s about to come true, so moving away and not being able to find a job/carry on the exact same way I’m going now, so... yeah.

Window or aisle seat? Window

What’s your current TV obsession? I had to axe Hulu for a bit but when I still had it, it was Prodigal Son, Almost Family, Dollface, and Perfect Harmony (yeah the latter is fairly preachy and bad but it’s charming and funny in its own weird way). That reminds me I need to re-up Hulu.

Favorite app? Spotify, Choices: Stories You Play

Secret talent? Interior Design, Giving My All to Some People Who Just Won’t Bother to Do the Same For Me

Most adventurous thing you’ve done in your life? Digging in my heels when my parents were trying to deter me from going to a college seven hours away. I’m not adventurous and I hate it.

How would you define yourself in three words? empathetic, creative, A Pleasure to Have in Class

Favourite piece of clothing you own? My college hoodie. It’s mostly black, has my college logo but the neck/pullstrings are modelled after a hockey uniform’s. I’ve only gone without it the last three days during this whole lockdown and I miss it. The print is also crackling so I need to find another close thing to it.

Must have clothing item everyone should have? Slightly too-big hoodie.

Superpower you would want? Mind reading

What’s inspiring you in life right now? Nothing

Best piece of advice you’ve received? “Stop caving to your parents.”

Best advice you’d give your teenage self? Same as the last question, cut out [Toxic Ex Best Friend], be more aggressive pursuing The Guy it Turned Out We Both Had a Crush on, also be more aggressive pursuing The One That Got Away.

A book that everyone should read? Austenland by Shannon Hale if romantic comedies and/or Jane Austen is your thing.

What would you like to be remembered for? Loyalty.

How do you define beauty? Selflessness, put-togetherness

What do you love most about your body? If eyes count, my eyes. If not, lmao I hate my body, nothing.

Best way to take a rest/decompress? Mindlessly browse internet, play videogames.

Favourite place to view art? On here, tbh. Like, I could say the Metropolitan Museum of Art in the city, but... idk everything but the Egyptian Exhbit drains me in that place for some reason. I’m more of a Natural History Museum gal. Gimme the fun taxidermy and that giant whale sculpture in the food court any day.

If your life were a song, what would it be? Falling Apart - Matt Nathanson

My Name is Thunder by Jet and The Bloody Beetroots.

If you could master one instrument, what would it be? Baritone. I used to play it and then got snubbed from band in 7th grade and my skill with it tanked to nothing. Picking it up again would be nice.

If you had a tattoo, where would it be? Well, the plan before the lockdown was to get one in the middle of my inner forearm.

Dolphins or koalas? Dolphins

Best gift you’ve ever received? Our first corgi

Best gift you’ve ever given? When I was in college I made polymer clay ornaments for Christmas for my five housemates. They were all fairly terrible but I had fun and most of them apparently willingly enjoyed getting them/had a good laugh about it. One of them still sends me the photo of his whenever it’s on the tree.

What’s your favourite board game? Stratego but the version from the 1960s, Battleship from the 1980s. Yes the years are important, the modern ones are entirely different games and they’re Weird and I don't like ‘em.

What’s your favourite colour? Peacock blue

Least favourite colour? Yellow

Diamonds or pearls? Diamonds

Drugstore makeup or designer? Drugstore

Blow-dry or air-dry? Air dry. Fuck blow drying, I have too much hair and it puffs out if I blow dry. I call it “Hermione Grangering.”

Pilates or yoga? Neither

Coffee or tea? Both

What’s the weirdest word in the English language? Moist. Why does everybody hate it, idgi. Is it really just a mind in the gutter thing?

Dark chocolate or milk chocolate? Yes.

Stairs or elevator? Stylistically stairs, general preference: elevator.

Summer or winter? WINTER!!!! Summer is evil.

You are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? Mac and Cheese

A dessert you don’t like? No Dessert.

A skill you’re working on mastering? Digital coloring, figuring out what I want to do with my life without caving to my parents trying to gaslight me because they want me to be something I don’t want to be.

Best thing to happen to you today? lmao nothing. Since it’s been a rough few hours I’m waiting on The One That Got Away to sense my depression and text me because he’s just got that talent.

Best compliment you’ve ever received? My high school bus driver ran into me at the grocery store I worked at and introduced me to his partner as “the girl I told you about, the one that if we ever adopt a kid and they don’t end up exactly like her, I’m gonna be disappointed.” Also, because I need to put this one into writing somewhere, when my classmates and I were out on a college trip, our professor/advisor was with us and was a few drinks in, so she gave us all superlatives. I was “the smartest person in this entire group... .... .... but [ I ] had to come out of the closet ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... of smartness.” Cue everyone, including myself, looking from her, to each other, and then back to me, absolutely not sure how to process that. It was wild and confusing but because of that it still ranks on one of my best moments in college. And it was arguably a compliment.

Favourite smell? Vanilla, or baked goods.

Hugs or kisses? Hugs

If you made a documentary, what would it be about? Documentaries are garbage, I’d do a drama- movie or show.

Last piece of content you consumed that made you cry? RDR2 fic, post canon where John meets Albert and tells him A Thing and it killed me.

Lipstick or lip gloss Lipstick

Sweet or savory? Sweet

Girl crush? Alicia Vikander

How you know you’re in love? Undying loyalty to the person, lots of laughs and smiles.

Song you can listen to on repeat? Sinner - Andy Grammer

If you could switch lives with someone for a day who would it be? Anybody other than me lmao

What are you most excited about at this time in your life? Again, I’ve got nothing to look forward to in life anymore. So uuuhhhh... maybe having something to look forward to again? But there’s a minimal chance of that.

#long post #sorry for all the sads like I said it's been a bad last few hours #feeling unwanted and worthless and all that fun stuff

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sparkesink · 4 years

Text

Chapter 16:

Vivian

There’s A Single Moment,

(A Split Moment,)

Light But Seconds Before The Storm.

Your Senses Tingle,

Little Hairs…

Stretching Up Along Your Name,

(Screaming.)

They Extend Ever So Delicately,

(Out To Meet And Greet,)

This Spike In Energy Surrounding You.

I Became Enthralled With

A Three-headed Monster,

I Yet To Figure Why,

(Or Even How;)

I Came To Cross Paths

With This Beast.

He Did Not Begin

With Three Heads…

Oh No,

One Developed After Another…

(Such Consequence Of Lust.)

I Met This Monster Whilst Living

With Peter And Paul At Lilly.

I Had Finally Taken My Independence…

Though,

I Find Myself Trapped

Within A Leased Living Situation.

He First Came To Me As “The Green Man:”

This Beast Was Timid,

(Sweet.)

He Wrapped Me Up

Within A Fish Line,

Whispered Within Me,

“Would You Like To Finish My Line?”

White Powdery Snow,

All Diced,

Presented Neatly Within 3 Row.

It Was He,

(The First To Plague Me.)

He Played Many Games,

(He Was A Master Upon Hiding Masks,)

Disguised As True Faces,

(Blurrier Facts.)

He Captured My Attention,

As It Had Been Longingly Neglect;

Draped Upon Destination.

I Dazed…

I Wanted To Know Everything About Him,

The First Indulged In This Sin:

Coincidentally Landed My Residence,

Directly Aside Him.

We Shared A Porch,

On A Long Day He’d Pop In;

Light My Torch.

I Began To Surround

Myself Within His Life,

Enthralled With An Idea Of Love:

I Lured Him From His Woman,

She Fast Asleep,

(Three Doors To The Right.)

I Justified This

(A Test Of Flight.)

See, I Was There First:

I Had Put In The Time.

So When I Rejected,

I Fucked Them All;

Just Passing The Time.

You See,

I Wanted To Prove To Myself,

“I Was Whole”:

The Fucker Who Faked Me,

Couldn’t Taint Me.

A Test Of Lust,

Spoiled Centuries Ago:

I’m Sorry Samantha,

“Future Husband”,

I Didn’t Know.

The Second Came To Me,

Within Drug-induced Haze:

The Bridge,

A Previous Life…

(Absurd,)

Drug Filled,

Strife;

I Found Myself Within.

Sitting Up A Psychedelic Mattress,

Shoved,

Upon A Corner Of

A Black-lit Warehouse,

Within My Living Room;

Half Naked,

Florescent Bodies Pass My Tomb.

Head Remain Stagnant,

Movement Upon The Pavement:

Fast Forwarded,

Repeat To Doom.

I Can Never Tell Who Is What,

Or What Is Who…

All That Is Determined:

A Mind Filled With Glamorous Clues;

(Only The Best Of Kinds.)

This Is What People

Forget To Talk About…

(While Dreaming Within The Mind.)

I Sat And Observed,

(The Happenings Upon Me:)

Wondering Exactly,

“How I Got Here, To Be.”

The Last Thing I Remember:

I Was Within University,

Flushed Within A Hurt Locker…

And Now?

A “Raver”?

The Steps And Processes,

Amongst These Two Destinations,

(Eternally Undetermined.)

The Process My Life

Path Become Directed:

Too Many Turns,

(Shortcuts,)

Dead Ends…

Mapping Out How;

I Ended Upon The

Darker Side Of The Moon.

(Loneliness And Pain

Can Attest To It, Too.)

This Beast Is One

You Cannot Recognize;

Infiltrates Your Life.

(Within An Instant.)

Fallen Within Infatuation,

(Such Sinful Feast,)

Such Frustration.

He Was A Vampire.

I Don’t Know What Came Over Me,

He Spoke:

Wrapped A Trans Around Me.

I Didn’t Want Anything;

Just To Listen.

I Do Not Fancy Myself,

(A Foolish Girl…)

Enough To Swoon Prematurely.

An Interesting Gift;

(Target Practice.)

A Neo-Siren,

(In Human Flesh.)

This Beast Sprouted Within Envy:

Almost At Instant,

A Click.

A Piece Of The Puzzle;

Somehow Found Way,

(Together,)

Meshing Perfectly,

(In Unity,)

A Sense Of Correction:

I Realized,

How Well We “Felt Together”,

(In Temptation.)

Overwhelming Sense,

Perfection:

Expanding As The Night Grew Wicked.

Thought Surrounding

How Well It “Fit”,

Forced My Conscious

To Smother My Subconscious;

Screaming,

“Don’t Let Him In!”

It Will Be Nothing,

I Didn’t Care,

I Missed The Feeling,

The Sense Of Clarity:

Butterflies Swarming,

A Sense Of Care.

Sexual Tension Grew Intense,

The Morning Crawled Across

The Horizon:

We Found Ourselves,

(Located In The Mist.)

Water Flowing,

Heating Up As He Peers Within Me;

Pinned Against The Wall,

(A Consensual Manner.)

Shower Door Gnawing Upon My Neck:

A Wolf,

(Attacking It’s Prey.)

I Begin To Pull Away;

“I’m Not A Foolish Girl…”

Most Do Not Recognize This Hesitation:

An Inner Debate Within Myself.

Contemplating;

How Exactly I To Play?

Give In?

Risk Losing Connection To Stay?

“If You Don’t Want To, Don’t.”

He Scaled My Throat,

Whispering Nothings Within One Ear:

“I Want To, But If You Don’t,

Then Don’t, Sweetheart.”

“I Know…”

Induced In Mesmerizing Haze:

He Leans Within, Whispers Softly,

“…You Know You Want To.”

This Was One Of The More Satisfying

Sexual Encounters I Come Across…

My Mind Is A Labyrinth,

Fine In Design:

Carved To Perfection,

Un-mastered,

(Without Devine.)

The Surface Of A

Practical Girl Is Apparent:

Below The Inner Workings,

A Genius Masterpiece,

(Transparent.)

In The Time This

Conversation Taken Place,

“Heat Of The Moment”,

(Blushed Upon My Face.)

My Brain Weighed Every Outcome:

Each Possible Scenario Could Blossom,

A Reaction,

The Situation,

(Currently At Bay.)

I Had Every Reason To Stop,

Allow This Boy To Shower;

Send Him Upon His Way.

He Was Charming,

Thoughtful,

Sweet,

Mostly Sexually Compatible, To Beat.

I Had Never Had Such Reaction Before…

“You Know You Want To,”

Rang Through My Ears,

Tantalizing My Lore:

Nothing Mattered

At This Point In The Show,

(Deal With Consequences

As They Arose.)

My Body Tingled;

He Touched Me

From Every Angle.

I Shivered;

Unable To Formulate Words…

Finding Sanctuary:

My Own Sexual Ecstasy.

I Was Caught.

I Had Felt Something,

For The First Time In Years.

The Days Past:

Zeke And I Spent A lot Of Time Together.

Nonetheless I had yet to bore of him.

This Was Different.

He Was Receptive;

An Intense Shiver

Pulsated My Entire Body.

I Couldn’t Wrap My

Head Around The Reasoning,

The Logic,)

How Interestingly Drawn

To This Man I Was.

I Was Level Headed:

I Wanted To Be With Him,

(Instead Of Needing To.)

Shot Of Rum,

Two Shots,

Three,

Four,

Shot And A Half Of Patron,

Shot Of Rum,

Two Screw Drivers,

Shot Of Fire Water,

Shot And A Half Of Rumplemintz.

I Sat On The Floor

Of A Third Story Parking Garage,

Arms Wrapped Within A Sobbing Boy:

Cringing,

Grasping His Side,

(Pain Eluding From His Torso.)

All I Could Think About

Was The Seductive Smell

And Velvet Touch Of His Skin.

His Words Were Untranslatable

Through sobbing,

Drunken Slur.

“I’m Going To Die

Within The Next Two Years,”

(Interrupted,)

Another Excruciating Grunt;

Coiling His Body Into Mine.

I Woke Up With The

Most Intense Hangover,

Zeke Nowhere To Be Seen.

Laying Upon A Pull Out Bed;

Dress From The Night Before,

Unzipped,

Stuck Around My Torso,

(Essentially Naked.)

I Had Never Seen

This Room Before:

My Roommate And Her Boy

Curled Next To Me,

Figuring…

I Hadn’t Gotten Kidnapped.

An Over Whelming Feeling,

Confusion Filled My Conscious.

A Woman I Had Never Seen Before,

Walked Out,

Began To Tidy Up.

Who The Hell’s House

Did We End Up At?

Why The Fuck Am I Naked?

How Did We Get Here?

I Finally Gain Full Consciousness;

Zeke’s Voice Rings

From Within The Bedroom

Next To Me…

This Was His Apartment…

And The Woman…

She Was His

Four Month Pregnant Fiancée.

“Are You Dating Someone Or Not?”

“No.”

“Then What The Hell

Is She Doing Living In Your House?”

“It’s Complicated,

You Know How That Is.”

I Had Been Made A Fool,

Once Again.

I Have Dropped Men

For Making A Wrong Pass:

He Had Pregnant Fiancé,

And A 14 Month Old Boy....

And I Found Myself With Him,

Not Even 24 Hours Post Haste.

I Could Not Pull Myself Away:

(His Draw Was Infectious.)

His Touch Sent

Chills Through My Body:

Circulated The Surface Of My Skin.

Individual Hairs Upon The Neck;

Arose To Great Him,

(Ever So Submissively.)

Lips Upon My Back,

Kiss Upon My Hand,

Forehead,

Shoulder…

The Clouds Descended From Skies,

Lifting Me Far Away,

(From My Horrible Life Choices.)

All Logic My Mind Could Conjure:

A Consistent Screaming,

“You Don’t Belong Here.”

I Read People,

(Psychologically:)

Actions,

Social Reactions,

Subsequent Personalities…

(Encountered Along The Path.)

Zeke Enjoyed Flaunting,

(Boasting,)

His Mediocre Talents:

Constantly Attempting To Sell

A Wet Soiled Rug For Couture.

I Quickly Came To My Senses:

He Was Not Mentally,

(Never-the-less,)

Emotionally Stable,

To Consider Dedicated Tolerance.

This Endlessly Loving

Nature Within Me:

This Get’s Me In Serious Trouble,

(Fucked:)

Obvious.

I Cannot Help But Try;

Guide Those Lost,

In Need Of A Beacon.

Though,

There Is This Point:

(You Must Realize,)

Your Golden Efforts Are Wasted…

On A Fucking Dirtbag.

Lessons Learned

Will Forever Receive Gratitude:

I Came Closer Toward

Spiritual Understanding

That Just May,

(Forever,)

Roll Along My Consciousness.

And:

Never Fuck Anyone,

You Meet At A Rave.

I Vaguely Remember,

Standing Upon A Worn Dock,

Affront A Lake;

(Somewhere In A Desert,)

Roughly Forty-five Minutes

Outside Mountain Home, Idaho.

I Moved Out Of Hell,

(Round One:)

Residing With Jade’s Lovers.

I Moved Back To My Parents In Boise,

(Sophomore Summer.)

Consisting The Same Drunken Bullshit,

Moscow Residents:

(Those Short Few Years.)

Had I Not Ended Up In This Desert,

My Life Would Be Utterly Estranged;

(The One I Know Now.)

Since I Moved Home,

Having Left My Boyfriend,

(Four Years:)

Boise Evolved,

(Uniquely Different Than Before.)

When We Left Peter,

He Took All The “Friends”,

With Him.

This,

(Though inconvenient,)

Had Little Effect On Me,

(Disregard Additional Abandonment:)

I’m Quite The Problem Solver.

I Never Had Problem ‘Making’ Friends:

A Sense Of Humor Renders

A Positive Social Outcome.

It Comes With The Territory:

(Abundance Of Personal Relations.)

People Of All Materials:

Separate Personalities,

(Backgrounds,)

Combining Upbringing And Free Will…

“Characters”;

(If You Will.)

They Swarm Me.

Left Friendless,

(Fend For Myself.)

Rekindling Past Connections,

The Oldest,

Most Dear Friendships;

Those Friends Of Your Childhood.

We Spent Our Nights

Dancing In The Streets,

Singing At The Top Of Our Lungs.

Those Midnight Trips To Ihop,

Watching The Stars Buzz By,

(The Years Of Our Youth.)

Coming Back Felt As Though,

(I Had Never Left.)

I Was The Only Piece Of The Puzzle,

(I Just Didn’t Fit;)

Intruding Upon Playful Embracing,

Weird Antics,

For Years,

I Had Been Lost:

Under My Anxious Desire,

“Grow Up”,

(Before My Time.)

Laying On A Blanket,

(Face Toward Heaven,)

Gazing Out Into The “Great Unknown”;

Wondering…

How Life Could Have Been,

(Had I Not Forced My Adolescence,)

Toward A Halt,

(So Prematurely.)

You See,

I’ve Been Looking For You.

I’ve Been Waiting Since I Was A Young Girl.

I’ve Made Mistakes,

Mistaken Your Love,

(For Those With Similar Attributes.)

As I Child,

(Raised On Princes And Princesses:)

I Knew,

I Wanted But One Dream.

I Wanted To Find True Love.

I Dreamt About It,

Since That Adolescent Day.

The “Prince”.

I Promised Myself:

Upon A Nineteenth Year,

I Would Find Love.

I Would Find Love Through Writing.

If I Could Light All The Fireworks,

(Those Spectacular Birthday Gifts;)

A Shot In The Dark,

Either They Would Find Me…

Or I Would Find Him:

The One…

Who Holds The Key To My Heart,

(By Unlocking My Mind.)

The One,

(To Co-write The Script.)

Knowing This Wonderful Group

Of Ladies Lead Me

To A Music Festival

In The Desert.

We Drove Two And Half Hours

South Of Boise;

Past Mountain Home,

(Into The Hills We Went.)

Car Packed:

Rave Costumes,

Coolers,

Miscellaneous Items,

Absorbing The Open Crevices

Of Her Tiny POS Car.

Waltzing Around The Campsite,

(Severely Under Dressed,)

I Came Across A Lovely Barbie Tent,

It Happened To Come With An Attractive,

Gentle Man,

(With Extraordinarily Large Gauges.)

I Approached Him;

Curious To What ‘L’ Stood For.

He Disappeared Within His Tent,

Returning With Two Hits Of Acid…

This Was The Beginning

Of My First Psychedelic Experience;

Something More Beautiful

Than Words Can Describe.

Opening My Mind

To Greater Aspects Of Life,

Simultaneously Throwing Me

Into A Summer Of Massive

Drug Abuse,

(A Turning Point Of Life.)

For So Many Years,

I’ve Viewed My World Through

Shaded ‘Black Abyss’ Glass:

Now Admiring The Rainbows,

Existing Upon Each Molecule,

(Placed Upon This Earth.)

It Wasn’t Until The End,

I Was Forced To Come To Terms,

(With Reality.)

My Own Tormenting Loneliness.

I Ran So Far Away,

Even Those Few Who Loved Me Dearly,

Could Not Find Me;

Driving Until I Could Not,

I Could Not Stop.

Drowning Out Excruciating Loneliness;

Meaningless Sex And Musical Compilations.

It Was Mid August, 2012.

I Had Been Working Full Time,

Managing A Modeling Agency.

Their Company Is A Scam,

They Owe Me Money….

Their Photographer Is A Rapist.

My Health Had Been Acting Up.

My Empire Of Friends Began To Fall.

The Household I Kept Running,

Slipping Out From Underneath Me.

My Mother Called Me,

Earlier That Day;

Explaining My Grandfather

Was Deathly Ill,

He Was In Intensive Care

In A Hospital In Montana.

She And My Brother

Were To Visit Him

in his final moments,

(Days Before.)

Stress And Turmoil Overwhelmed,

The Entirety Of Myself To Much.

The Tipping Point:

I Cannot Remember,

Being Able To Hear,

(Myself Think.)

Though,

I Adored My Boise Life,

What I Had Created As ‘My Own’,

I Had Become Stricken

With Exceeding Anxiety.

Losing My Breath,

(Functionality,)

A Loss Of Control.

My Body Frozen In Time;

Autopilot,

Cleanly Focus,

(Air Intake,)

Head Perfectly Placed,

(Between My Knees.)

Complete:

(Loss Of Disposition.)

I’m Highly Convinced,

This The Reason I Left;

(The Time Being.)

I Just Needed Out,

(Run Away;)

to rid myself of everything

and everyone

for even just a moment;

get in my car and drive.

It was two in the morning

and scheduled to work

the next morning,

put my license plates on my Chrysler,

packed up my car,

filled up my tank and drove.

I drove to the one place I knew,

the safety of my wonderland.

300 miles of highway

and I was free

(for even a brief moment,)

I was going back to Moscow.

I had driven this highway

religiously for years with company,

alone,

with my puppy,

this road was my sanctuary.

A long strip of blacktop for hours,

mountains crisp from the summer night

the moon’s light as my guide.

Drowning out the world

with highway and the ambience

of my stereo at full:

blinding my thoughts,

finally allowing my mind

come to peace

(the first time in months.)

Fuck,

I Just Want To Write.

Sometimes,

I Ponder What Type Of Brilliance

Could Become Explored;

Had I Only But A Microphone Within,

(Inner Dialogue.)

Only,

Wouldn’t That,

(In Turn,)

Become Nothing More Than This?

Scripted Product;

(Monetized And Exploited.)

A Chance Toward Physical Comfort,

(Enthralled Within Rich Man’s Game.)

In Such Case:

“Who Am I, But A Walk-in Closet?”

I Was Lost In The Woods That Night;

A Brisk August Evening,

(They Always Are.)

I Never Had The Chance

To Get To Know My Grandmother

On My Mother’s Side:

Afraid The “Crazy” May Just Rub Off On Me,

(I Suppose.)

There’s A Tight Little Pocket,

Tucked Along The Creases,

(Within My Mind:)

A Writing Desk,

(Pleasantly Designed.)

An Interrogation Style Lighting Fixture,

Gently Sways Back And Forth:

Counting The Ticking Of My Sanity,

(Tucked Away For Safe Keeping.)

Peace.

I’m Sure,

My Ancestry Contains

Brilliantly Unique Individuals.

My Mother “Claims” To

Withhold any Artistic Talents;

Though,

I Always Suspected This Was A Farce,

(Both Her Parents Were Beautiful Artists,)

Exploring Humanity In The Seventies.

I’m Afraid,

I Feel Sinful:

Drenched Within My Own

Egotistical Self Awareness.

A Mediocre Snail,

Attempting To ‘Keep Up’.

The Ocean Swallowed

Two Children Saturday:

What Gives Me The Right?

(Wallowing In My Own Lack Of Esteem.)

My Heart Broke In Two:

(A Parents Living Nightmare.)

That Sort Of Grief

Is Unbeknownst To Me,

(Within Complex Contemplation.)

My Grandmother Was A Writer:

My Mother Told Me

Of Various Notebooks,

Filled With Her Scrambled,

Neurological Connections.

Her Work Eternally Unread:

She Expressed Diligently To My Mother,

“One Day,

I’ll Allow You To Read These,

Then You Should Finally Understand Me.”

One Brisk August Morn,

Beneath A Pale, Idahoan Moon…

She,

(And All Her Notebooks,)

Where Gone;

(Burnt To Ash,)

Engulfed In A House Of Flame.

I Was Thirteen When

Those Calls Came In…

It Became Very Dark In My Household.

I Do Believe My Parents Attempted,

(Keep The Heavy Shit From Hitting Us,)

As Adolescents.

It’s An Interesting Bundle;

(Upbringing Quarks,)

When You’re The Eldest, Middle Child.

My Parents Raised

My Two Youngest Aunts:

(Grandma Did A Lot Of Drugs.)

The Girls Fit Nicely,

Within The Creases Of Our

Middle Class Starter Home.

It Was A Full House;

We Had Bullies Of Macaroni,

And Heads Filled Of Disney.

I Am The Eldest Sibling Of My Family;

(Raised As An Overlooked Middle Child.)

I Feel As If,

(This Writing Desk,)

Shall Be A Dense Forest Green;

Topped With A Fir Slab,

Sculpted And Oiled To Move With You…

Nothing Like A Sharp Corder In The Ass,

(Pondering Midnight Thought.)

Grandma And Grandpa Died On The Same Day:

(Some Would Say Roughly The Same Time,)

Six Years Apart…

(One Brisk August Morn.)

My Grandpa,

(I Believe,)

Gave His Life…

For Mine.

A Barter Traded:

His Time Was Up.

I Escaped With My Life,

Though, I Saw Him There:

(The Elk Man.)

He Comes To All:

Wearing Separate Names

And Alternate Devices…

Most Call Him “Death”;

(The Language Of It Muddles Within Muck.)

His Presence Hold The Opposite Anxiety:

(A Calm Liquidity.)

Holding Stern Awoken Emotion;

He Took The Fawn,

(Instead.)

I Stared Him Directly Within The Eye,

(Dead,)

Walking Amongst This Silence,

(Again.)

I Should Have Known:

“Turn Around,”

Highway Closing Down,

(Behind Me,)

Mountain Charred,

(Ablaze.)

I Barely Saw Her,

Moments Before She Hit My Windshield.

I Saw A Black Figure Of A Very Slim Man;

Sitting Upon The Bench Seat,

(Whilst Checking The Rearview Mirror.)

I Only Turned Briefly,

(Startled By Tricks Of The Mind:)

There She Was,

Blinded And Frozen Within Headlight,

Flying Eighty-Five Miles Per Hour,

(Directly Into Her.)

I Blacked Out Before She Hit My Hood:

Upon Woke,

I Attempted To Start My Vehicle.

Unresponsive,

(Steering Wheel Bent In Half.)

It Was Between Four And Five AM:

One Brisk August Morn.

My Grandfather Passed

During This Same Pocket In Time:

Liver Failure And Hepatitis,

In A Hospital In Montana.

My Mother And Brother Traveled There,

(To Be With Him.)

I Was Covered In Blood And Glass,

Shredded And Sparkling From Head To Tow:

Cuddling An Oversized Frog,

Named ‘Tuesday’.

I Was Nineteen:

(Disoriented,)

Standing In The Midst

Of A Lonely Highway…

(Within Witching Hour.)

I Made It To Wonderland:

I Went There To Escape.

It Was Tarnished Before;

(The Following Week Left It’s Wake…)

I Was So Reckless With Myself, Then.

I Have Come To Notice:

Loneliness,

(Associated With Abundance Of Greed.)

Career Driven Individuals,

Means To Live A Thousand Lifestyles;

(Luxurious Desire,)

Though,

Is This The Life

One Truly Desires To Lead?

All The Means Of Happiness;

Yet,

No Compatible Soul To Share It With.

No One To Call,

(When You’re Sad:)

No One To Hold,

(When Grief Strikes By Surprise.)

This Life I Once Lived,

(Found Joy Within;)

Evolved Within This Sick,

(Disgusting,)

Reality Check.

Selfish,

Self-driven;

(My Lonely Existence,)

Amplified Five Minutes Post,

(My Grandfather’s Funeral.)

Sitting Affront The Alter,

(Holding My Emotions Stagnant,)

Un-phased By Grief,

(This “Flow” Of Emotion Surrounding Me.)

I Trained Myself Long Before This Moment;

To Kill All Those waves Within,

(Deep Inside.)

Logically Accepting Loss,

(A Natural Phase Of Life,)

Disregarding Empathetic Understanding,

This Downpour Of Tears,

(Surrounding Me.)

The Service Came To A Close,

Faces Melting Before Me:

I Gave The Final Eulogy.

I Sat Among This Puddle Of People,

Gazing Across My Parents Yard;

Watching The Sunlight Glisten,

(Bounce,)

Off Individual Blades Of Grass,

(Upon This Acre Of Sod.)

Random Shimmering Droplets,

Water Glistening Together,

(In Beautiful Harmony.)

Euphoric Ambience Of

The Waterfall My Father Built,

A Gift For My Mother;

(In The Passing Of Her Father.)

Muttering My Thoughts:

Awareness Drained

From Within My Mind.

Sitting Amongst Myself,

(Numb Nothingness;)

Observing The Earth Engulfing Me,

(An Unconscious Haze.)

Awoken From My Hypnotic State;

A Gentle Tap Upon My Arm.

People Whom I Had Never Met,

People Who Knew My Name…

I Hadn’t The Slightest

Clue Who They Were;

Associated To My

Grandfather In Some Way.

They Told Me Stories,

(Boasting About Me To Them.)

This Significant Pride,

This Passion He Felt

Towards My Future.

I Was The Apple Of His Eye,

Awareness Brought Through

Distant Stories,

(Marked By Strangers:)

Talking Faces,

Reminding Me…

My Inadequacy,

To Appreciate Anyone…

(Even Myself.)

I Hadn’t Realized

The Incredible Man,

(I Strongly Resemble,)

Had Slipped Away From Me;

(Previous To This Discovery.)

A Dagger Entered

My Chest At Blunt Force:

I Lost My Breath.

Suppression:

That Masterful Dam Of Tears,

(Locked Away Years Before,)

Could Not Halt

This Uncontrollable Sob.

I Sat There,

(Face Tucked Between My Knees;)

Soaking A Black And White

Pin-stripped Dress,

(Melting Into Utter Despair,)

I Couldn’t Help But Realize…

Not One Soul,

(Within A Fifteen Foot Radius Of Me.)

There Was No One There,

(To Hold My Hand.)

There Was No One There,

(To Just Hold Me…)

When I Needed It Most.

A Hollow Mold,

There To Put Me Back To Form,

(After Melting Away.)

I Was Alone.

No “Friend” Came For Support.

The Touch Of A Man’s Embrace,

Driven From Genuine Empathy,

Had Been Long Since Washed Away.

Leaving Me.

The World I Had Once

Created For Myself:

Endless Parties,

Adolescently Exhilarating Experiences…

A Never Forgotten,

(Official,)

End To My Loveless Cold Interior.

I Was Not Happy,

I Was Honestly Alone…

(I Had Only Myself To Blame.)

I Had Met My Third

Beast Two Years Prior.

He Was My Tattoo Artist.

“W” Was Charming:

I Respected His Marriage.

I Did Not Intentionally Ruin A Family.

It Started Playful,

He Led Me To Believe

He Was Already Separated

From His Wife

When I Began Flirting With Him.

I Had Sent Him A “Harmless Photo”,

A One Piece Bathing Suit,

Nothing Terribly Scandalous.

She Texted Me…

(His Wife,)

Asking Why I Had Sent

That To Her Husband…

(Suppose She Hadn’t Gotten The Memo, Yet.)

He Lied:

He Lied To Me,

He Lied To Her.

My Cold Interior Hadn’t Fully Thawed:

I Justified My Actions As A Fault Of His.

I Could Have Been A Moral Human:

I Could Have Walked Away,

Tattooed My Shame In Invisible Ink…

Instead,

I Looked The Other Way.

I Had Scheduled A Tattoo Appointment,

The Day After My Grandfather’s Funeral.

Coincidently,

This Appointment Was Planned

Prior To His Passing.

I Had Requested A Change

Of Artwork For Our Appointment,

A Rose,

Upon My Neck,

In Condolence.

A Piece Of Color Behind My Ear,

Whispering:

“I Believe In You,

Just Believe In Yourself.”

I Refused To Sleep

With Another Married Man,

The Damage Was Done.

My Refusal To Walk Away,

My Desire To Keep Coming Back,

This Is The Beast That Birthed My Insect.

For I Held Integrity,

I Listened To His Lies:

I Remember Letting Him

Fuck Me From Behind,

(Just Two Weeks

Into Their Separation.)

Sure,

They Weren’t Going To Be Together:

Sure,

I Would Assume,

(I Couldn’t Have Been The Only…)

Or Maybe I Was.

Maybe I Had Fucked Up

So Many Committed Hearts,

The Universe Fed Me A Beetle.

An Insect To Devour My Heart,

Little By Little,

A Seven Year,

Convert Counter Attack;

(Payment For My Adolescent Recklessness.)

I Had Made It Up,

(Within My Mind,)

He Gave A Fuck About Me.

I Actually Gifted Him An Original Painting,

(A Tip For A Tattoo Well Done.)

I Looked Forward To “Pretending”,

Feeling Like A Real Girlfriend,

(Again.)

I Think I Was Most Blinded,

My Insatiable Desire,

(Leave Lust Behind.)

I Am Sorry.

To All The Women

I Have Intentionally Harmed,

(To All Those Whom I Left

Unconscious Scars.)

I Am A Soft Ball Of Love,

(Within A Cast Iron Armor Heart.)

I Was Blinded By Ego

Guided My Actions Through

A Thin Stained Glass.

I Gave Myself Morale,

(Excuses For My Actions,)

Excuses To Live With,

(My Despicable “Love” Choices.)

W Fucked My Roommate

Just A Month Later…

On My Living Room Floor,

He Left Me In My Bed

After Falling Asleep Cuddling.

He Made A Point,

“We Were Not Exclusive”:

My Heart Doesn’t Work Like That.

Love Is A Very Serious Matter:

It Is Not Something To Be Thrown Around,

An Old Rag Doll Through All Paths,

(A Muse.)

I Wouldn’t Know Love,

I’ve Only Experienced Lust And Abuse.

Ive Been Abandoned By Everyone I Know;

Every Friend I Hold An Arms Length,

For Even As A Child,

My Aunt Would Manipulate

Those Against Me.

So Why Wouldn’t I Expect

You To Do The Same?

Why Could I Imagine,

(From A Perspective

That’s Rendered “Sane”…)

That Any Chance Of A Fairytale;

Would Become Anything

(More Than Fucking Mundane.)

You See,

I’m A Bad Person.

I Make Bad Decisions.

I Am Blinded By An Idea Of Love,

That I Have Yet To Prove Exists.

Greased Handprint

(Across My Desktop Screen,)

Hiding My Communication,

A Source Of SOS,

(Unseen.)

Shivering In Physical Fear,

With Tears Falling Down My Face,

As I Dealt With The Wrath,

Unveiling From A Hummingbird

That Swarmed My Psyche,

(Maced.)

I’m A Foolish Fucking Woman,

I Should Have Learned By Now.

I May Be “A Bad Guy”,

(But So Are You.)

Meddling In Others Realities

Renders “Unkind.”

You’re Not Up To Par,

(Within My Mind.)

How Could I Tell You,

“I Love You,”

When You Don’t Exist?

An Imaginary Creature

Within My Mind,

A Shapeshifter,

“Love Blind”.

Didn’t Your Mother Ever Teach You?

Don’t Underestimate Repercussions,

Ripples,

(Aftershock,)

Simulated By Motives Guided In Fear.

You Don’t Deserve Me Anyway,

My Motives Are Proven Clear.

I Have No Malicious Intentions:

(I Only Wish To Share Communication,)

Respectful Sensations,

Soft Reciprocated Empathy,

A Beautiful Nightlife Calla Lilly,

(Blossomed Inside Me.)

I’m Searching For Peace,

A Secure Foundation,

Trust And Security,

(Loving Intention.)

This Is When I Run:

(I Deserve This.)

You See,

You’re A Pussy Ass Bitch.

I Died That Night,

Within The Lost Forest.

I Remembered What I Felt Like To Fall,

Before I Rendered Weak,

(A Love Tourist.)

I Leaped From My Platform,

You Hit Your Fucking Speed Boat;

While I Trembled In Fear,

(Carrying Keys Upon My Breast

For Psychological Security:)

Dead In The Eye,

A Wrathful Beatle Looming Near:

Your Cannon Wrecked My Fucking Ship,

I Feared My Life For Hollow Rhymes.

I Abandoned That Sinking Ship,

Treading Water

As Long As I Could Stand.

I Watched As That Emergency Flare

Flew Upon The Air,

Hit The Water,

Turnt Pink Mist Across The Waves.

I Took A Final Breath,

Into The Ocean I Sank:

Growing Gills And A Tale,

A Siren I Became.

I Fell:

You Fucking Ran,

It Is My Own Foolish Fault.

Fuck You.

1 note · View note

natfosho26 · 5 years

Note

1-170

1: How tall or short do you wish you were? I wish I was like 5’8”

2: What’s your dream pet? (Real or not) dinosaur lol

3: Do you have a favorite clothing style? Not really. Jeans and a t shirt

4: What was your favorite video game growing up? Tony hawk pro skater and gta’s

5: What three things/people do you think of most each day: sex, food, and materialistic wants

6: If you had a warning label, what would yours say? “Damaged goods”

7: What is your opinion on [insert person/thing here]? You didn’t put anything lol

8: What is your Greek personality type? [Sanguine, Phlegmatic, Choleric, or Melancholic] sanguine

9: Are you ticklish? Very

10: Are you allergic to anything? Penicillin, avocado, and pineapple

11: What’s your sexuality? Bisexual

12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa? Coffee

13: Are you a cat or dog person? Dog

14: Would you rather be a vampire, elf, or merperson? Merperson

15: Do you have a favorite Youtuber? No

16: How tall are you? 5’4”

17: If you had to change your name, what would you change it to? I wouldn’t

18: How much do you weigh? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!] under 200 lbs

19: Do you believe in ghosts/spirits? Yes

20: Do you like space or the ocean more? Both

21: Are you religious? A tad

22: Pet peeves? Lies, loud mouth chewing

23: Would you rather be nocturnal or diurnal [opposite of nocturnal]? Nocturnal

24: Favorite constellation? My cancer constellation

25: Favorite star? I don’t have one

26: Do you like ball-jointed dolls? What. No

27: Any phobias or fears? Moths and frogs lol

28: Do you think global warming is real? Very

29: Do you believe in reincarnation? Eh

30: Favorite movie? Sweeney Todd, love & basketball, rent, all the Batman movies lol

31: Do you get scared easily? No

32: How many pets have you own in your lifetime? Two

33: Blog rate? [You’ll rate the blog of the one who’s asking.] ?

34: What is a color that calms you? Blue

35: Where would you like to travel and/or live? Travel - Greece, Ireland, Scotland, Europe and live Colorado, Oregon, Washington

36: Where were you born? El Paso, TX

37: What is your eye color? Light brown

38: Introvert or extrovert? Both

39: Do you believe in horoscopes and zodiacs? Eh

40: Hugs or kisses? Kisses

41: Who is someone you would like to see/visit right now? My best friend

42: Who is someone you love deeply? My family

43: Any piercings you want? My nipples

44: Do you like tattoos and piercings? Very much so

45: Do you smoke or have you eiver done so? I’m smoking rn lol

46: Talk about your crush, if you have one! Negative

47: What is a sound you really hate? Screeching sounds

48: A sound you really love? The ocean

49: Can you do a backflip? No

50: Can you do the splits? No

51: Favorite actor and/or actress? Jason Mamoa, Dwayne Johnson, Tina Fey, Amy Poehler

52: Favorite movie? Refer to 30

53: How are you feeling right now? Pretty down

54: What color would you like your hair to be right now? I like my hair color

55: When did you feel happiest? When I’m conducting an ensemble or playing an instrument

56: Something that calms you down? Music

57: Have any mental disorders? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!] depression and anxiety but everyone has that now

58: What does your URL mean? My name and basketball number from hs

59: What three words describe you the most? Patient, understanding, and creative

60: Do you believe in evolution? Yes

61: What makes you unfollow a blog? Racist, sexist, homophobic, trump supporting all that shit

62: What makes you follow a blog? Stuff I like lol

63: Favorite kind of person: calm, curious, and artistic

64: Favorite animal(s): dinosaurs, whale sharks, jellyfish, octopus, and dogs

65: Name three of your favorite blogs. @thisismebeforeicomeundone @plastic-pipes @soyoumusik

66: Favorite emoticon: 🤔

67: Favorite meme: the girl yelling at the cat

68: What is your MBTI personality type? INTP

69: What is your star sign? Cancer

70: Can your dog roll over on command, if you have a dog? No she’s a bitch lol

71: What outfit out of all your clothes do you like to wear the most? Sweats and a shirt

72: Post a selfie or two? Maybe later

73: Do you have platform shoes? No

74: What is one random but interesting fact about yourself? I am double jointed in my elbows

75: Can you do a front flip? No

76: Do you like birds? No

77: Do you like to swim? Yes

78: Is swimming or ice skating more fun to you? Ice skating

79: Something you wish didn’t exist: trump

80: Some thing you wish did exist: dragons

81: Piercings you have? My ears

82: Something you really enjoy doing: making music

83: Favorite person to talk to: my roommate

84: What was your first impression of Tumblr? I can use this in high school lmao

85: How many followers do you have? 457

86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes? Hell no

87: Do your socks always match? Yes

88: Can you touch your toes and keep your legs straight completely?yes

89: What are your birthstones? Ruby

90: If you were an animal, which one would you be? Maybe a sloth or shark

91: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be? Hmm...idk I don’t know flowers enough

92: A store you hate? Burlington

93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day? Like 7 lol

94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds? Read minds

95: Do you like to wear camo? Nope

96: Winter or summer? Summer

97: How long can you hold your breath for? Like 45 secs

98: Least favorite person? N/a

99: Someone you look up to: alondra de la parra

100: A store you love? Barnes and noble

101: Favorite type of shoes? Vans

102: Where do you live? Las cruces, NM

103: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why? I’m not lol

104: What is your favorite mineral or gem? Obsidian

105: Do you drink milk? Lactose intolerant

106: Do you like bugs? Nope

107: Do you like spiders? Nope

108: Something you get paranoid about? I don’t really

109: Can you draw: eh

110: Nosiest question you have ever been asked? If my parents were born in the states or not

111: A question you hate being asked? If I have kids

112: Ever been bitten by a spider? No

113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach? Love it

114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days? Both

115: Someone you’d like to kiss or cuddle right now: n/a

116: Favorite cloud type: the ones that looks like waves

117: What color do you wish the sky was? Sunset colors

118: Do you have freckles? Yes

119: Favorite thing about a person: their eyes or lips

120: Fruits or vegetables? Fruits

121: Something you want to do right now: watch Star Wars

122: Is the ocean or sky prettier? Sky

123: Sweet or sour foods? Sweet

124: Bright or dim lights? Dim

125: Do you believe in a certain magical creature? Dragons lol

126: Something you hate about Tumblr: the ads

127: Something you love about Tumblr: the people I follow lol so my dashboard

128: What do you think about the least? Taxes and shit

129: What would you want written on your tombstone? Something with Batman

130: Who would you like to punch in the face right now? Trump

131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself? How indecisive I can be

132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures? Sometimes

133: Computer or TV? Computer

134: Do you like roller coasters? Love them

135: Do you get motion sickness or seasickness? No

136: Are your ears lobed or attached? Lobed

137: Do you believe in karma? Yes

138: On a scale of 1-10, how attractive would you say you are? 5

139: What nicknames do you have/have had? Nat or natocato

140: Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends? Yes

141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink? Yes

142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others? Good

143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help? Giving

144: What makes you angry? Trump. Ignorant people. Cheaters

145: How many languages do you speak fluently? Two

146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries? Boys and girls

147: Are you androgynous? No

148: Favorite physical thing about yourself: my lips

149: Favorite thing about your personality: my loyalty

150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person. Aaron, Krystal, and Andy

151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose? Revolution era just to hear certain composers

152: Do you like BuzzFeed? Eh not really

153: How did you meet your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner? [If you have one.] don’t have one

154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons? Yes lol

155: Do you like to play with others’ hair? Yes

156: What embarrasses you? Nothing really lol

157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious: “I need to talk to tou”

158: Biggest lie you have ever told: that I had no marijuana in the car when I get pulled over lmao

159: How many people are you following? 583

160: How many posts do you have on your blog(s)? Too many lol

161: How many drafts do you have on your blog(s)? None

162: How many likes do you have on your blog(s)? Hmm idk

163: Last time you cried and why: earlier, some hurtful words

164: Do you have long or short hair? Long

165: Longest your hair has ever been: below my butt

166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religon? Too many rules and money hungry organizations

167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created? Yes

168: Do you like to wear makeup? Hate it

169: Can you stand on your hands or head for more than thirty seconds? Yes

170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully? Yes

2 notes · View notes

takemedancingmaine · 5 years

Text

Safety Net

“But I think what gets me the most is the way that she said it.”

“Said what?” I asked.

“This morning while I was making breakfast, Ashley was on her way out and she just said, ‘Next time don’t sleep with someone I told you I think is cute.’

“She told you she thinks he’s cute?” I asked Mehar, watching as she walked across campus and I ate my lunch at my desk. I was actually just about to get up and start making a cup of tea.

“Well, yeah,” Mehar shrugged. “But Ruby, you know Ashley. She thinks every boy is cute and she never makes a move. I mean, if I never slept with anyone she found attractive I would never sleep with anyone. Besides, he approached me. Not the other way around.”

“Is this your way of telling me that you like a boy?”

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes as she waited at a crosswalk. “He’s no Niall, but he’s sweet and I wouldn’t mind sleeping with him again. Plus, he was telling me about tennis, trying to get me interested. I don’t think I’d hate it.”

“Tennis?” I asked, wondering if I’d missed something.

“Yeah,” she said. “He’s on the tennis team. He said he would have to get me out to a match, or we could just watch tennis on television and that way he could explain all of the rules to me.”

“And you’re considering watching sports,” I said incredulously. Who was my sister?

“I am.”

“So you do like him.”

I watched closely as she narrowed her eyes and then looked up as a car horn honked in the background on her end of the call.

“You like a boy,” I gasped. “Mehar! You like a boy!” I started bouncing up and down in the back corner of the kitchen while I waited for my water for my tea to boil. Louis glanced over at me and laughed quietly to himself when I shrugged and said, “My sister,” before I turned my attention back to Mehar. “My baby sister likes a boy! What's his name?”

Her face did that fluctuating thing it sometimes did. It was going back and forth between amusement, anger, frustration and, back to amusement. “Andy,” she said finally.

“Andy?” I asked with excitement colouring my tone. “Mehar, I need you to tell me everything. Please.”

My sister then spent the next hour detailing Andy in every possible way, including sexually--which I did not need to know, but she shared anyway. I was excited for her. Where I had been in relationships and had been in her shoes as well, Mehar had only ever been someone who used boys and then left them as soon as she was satisfied. She wasn’t scared of the emotional side, she just liked her lifestyle. In some way, I was kind of proud that she was doing what made her happy.

This boy, Andy, was tall with an athletic build, light wavy hair, and dimples. He seemed really cute, and from the sound of it, even though they started the relationship on a physical note, he likes her back. He offered to get her coffee this morning and even made sure she got home safely from his place, driving her back to her apartment with enough time for her to get to change and get to class.

She told me about how they’d texted all morning, too, which in itself was an anomaly after Mehar slept with someone. She usually cut all contact afterwards. This was all new territory for her.

Still, now that she was talking about Andy, telling me about his smile and the fact that she was willing to upset Ashley, her friend and someone she lives with, I felt like something shifted in my sister.

“I’m not all that worried that Ashley will be mad at me for sleeping with him. But Rubes, what happens if she finds out I’m going on a date with him?” She asked now.

“You’ve got a date scheduled?” I practically screeched. At this point, I had finished my lunch and was back at my desk, alternating between glancing at Mehar on the phone now that she was back at her apartment, and my computer screen.

“No, I’m saying if we go on a date,” she clarified. “What do I say then?” she asked.

Louis poked his head into my office and when he realised I was still on the phone he came around and stood beside me, so that he was in the frame, now.

“Hey, babe!” he smiled at my sister, who I swear swooned when she saw it. If she hadn’t just spent an hour telling me about a different boy, I swear.

“Hi Louis,” she blushed and then looked back at me. “Seriously, Ruby, what do I say?” she asked, almost desperate.

“About what?” Louis asked, already interested in what was happening.

“She might be going on a date with a boy that one of her roommates told her she thinks is cute,” I filled him in.

“Does she know him or does she just think he’s cute?” He asked, his contemplative face now situated firmly on his features. It was a testament to the kind of guy that Louis that he would willingly enter into this conversation. It might have something to do with him having five younger sisters, but it could also be that he’s just that good of a person.

“She just thinks she’s cute,” Mehar told him. “But she somehow found out I slept with him last night and already said a snide comment to me this morning.”

Louis shrugged. “So what?” He asked. “She doesn’t know him, and if you’ve got a real shot at something don’t let her stand in the way. She’s just imagining it, but you’re living it. Take that shot and run,” he insisted.

I nodded in approval. “Don’t let her dictate your happiness and what you want,” I echoed.

“So you’re saying if I want to, go on a date with him and see where it goes? Let Ashley be pissed off?” She asked as she looked between the two of us.

“Exactly,” Louis said.

“Yeah, and if what you’ve told me about Ashley is true, she’ll just move on to another cute boy in the near future anyway and forget all about Andy,” I added.

“That’s true,” she sighed. “I just don’t think I’ve ever wanted to see a boy at all after we’ve slept together, except to sleep together again, but this might be different and I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“And that’s fine, love,” Louis assured her. “We all have those moments in life where we have no idea what we’re doing. Look at Ruby, she came up here and didn’t know anyone, but she knew what she wanted and made it all happen. I didn’t know what I was doing when I decided to use my business degree and actually open a bakery. You can learn about things and see things from afar, but you can’t ever really know until you’re in the thick of it, doing it all yourself. But you’ve got people on your side, babe,” he assured her. “At the very least you’ve got me and your sister. That counts for something.”

“It does,” she said back. “It means a lot.”

“I’m glad,” Louis smiled. “Now I’m sorry, but your sister needs to help me with something because I’m a little slow on the uptake. Can she get back to you?” he asked.

“She can,” Mehar laughed. “Love you both.”

“Love you back!” Louis put his hand over his heart.

“Love you too, Meh,” I crooned and ended the call before swivelling in my seat and facing Louis head-on. “What can I assist you with, Tomlinson?” I asked.

“I just needed you to reset the computer system and start it up again, because I had my computer freeze on it again and I can’t reset it from my terminal, so I need you to,” he explained.

“Ah,” I nodded. “Let me just save this.” I saved the spreadsheet I was working in and then exited that and the computer program we used to track the business before I found the software to reset the whole backstage of the system.

“Is your computer off?” I asked him before clicking it.

“It is,” he nodded, “but it’s also installing updates…” He trailed off with a cringe. I laughed.

“Got it.” I clicked restart and the whole system began to shut down to repair itself and then restart in working order.

“So are you still on for game night at Weed’s Tavern?” I asked him while we waited.

“I am,” he nodded. “I’m rather excited. We’re going to play Sorry and I’m going to destroy your ass, Singh.”

“In your dreams, weirdo,” I shook my head. The computer was telling me that the system was back up now.

“Alright, go get yourself back to work,” I shoved him away. “You’ve got things to bake and salaries to pay.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved me off before stepping out and heading back to his own office.

I think I was starting to scare Niall.

In the three weeks since my panic episode on my way to Niall's, I'd had more. They were smaller scale-episodes, to be sure, but I was still having them.

Sometimes they would hit me when I was at home and I couldn't remember if I locked my doors the first two times I had checked. Sometimes they would hit me when I was lying in bed at night terrified I'd have my dream again.

Other times I would just be doing something simple, like stirring fried rice in a wok and Niall would come up behind me to hold me close and I would jolt and pull away like I'd been electrocuted like he had electrocuted me.

It had gotten to the point where Niall wasn't sure what would set me off, but neither was I, so we would just tiptoe around each other. It was odd. Ever since we’d met neither of us ever felt the need to act wholly and completely ourselves, and yet here we were, shadows of who we typically were.

That is not to say that Niall wasn’t helpful, he was. Him knowing gave me some sense of relief, lessened the guilt that tore away at my, but the circumstances under which he found out had rocked me to my core. It had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with what happened.

I could see that the burden of keeping this from our friends was weighing on him, too. He would drift off into his own thoughts and Liam would have to repeat himself two or three more times before he got Niall's attention back. Or he would make a face, just for a split second, whenever someone in the group suggested going out at night.

I was still having trouble believing I had told him. It felt like I had been shaken to my core like I was thrown off balance. I couldn’t believe I’d told him. I had no way of taking the story back, folding it neatly into the place I had been keeping it all this time. No matter what else happened, from here on out, I would remember Niall, because by telling him, he had become part of that story, of my story, too.

That weight was hanging over me. The thing about the truth, I was finding, was that even when you wanted to hide it away, it demanded to come out. Events had conspired to lead Niall to my truth. What worried me the most about this was that it meant somehow everyone else would be led to the truth.

That was another thing about the truth, the more people that knew it, the harder it was to hide it. It was just poised to fall out and be found out. Niall knowing was just the first step. It was causing me to constantly fret about what the next step was.

It didn't take Niall long to put together that Thursday night was self-defence class. If we ever got together on Thursday, it was always after seven-thirty, giving me enough time to get home and shower after class. It was the only day I'd put a time restriction on our going out or spending time together.

I was noticing how perceptive Niall was. It seemed he picked up on little things, tendencies of mine that had shifted since I’d been attacked. Whenever we left my house together he watched as I locked both front locks, only after checking at least the top back one. He noted that I never walked around with my hair up, only putting it up after I would get somewhere. He seemed to notice, for the first time, that I don't carry a purse--ever.

Just two days after my episode on that Thursday, he texted me during his lunch break and asked if he could come along with me to my class that night. I had dropped the pen I'd been using to the floor and had to take deep breaths to calm myself down before responding.

Which was how, six hours later, Brian met Niall and Niall was introduced to circuit training. I'd gotten many glances through the class, from both Brian and Niall, as a result of various tasks and workouts. It seemed both eyes were on me when Brian discussed how to use a structure (a wall, a fence, a porch railing, to your advantage when attacked. I steadfastly ignored both of their gazes.

I was genuinely impressed with how well Niall kept up with the class. The cardio wasn’t easy, even for someone like me who did workout every day. I knew Niall trained and played pickup soccer whenever he could, but I didn’t think he’d handle burpees and squat jumps like a pro.

After the session we were refilling our water bottles, sweat dripping from every orifice on our bodies and Niall grumbling about how sore he was going to be in the morning. He was red-faced and his hair was damp and hanging around his eyes. He looked cute as he struggled to catch his breath. Although, when I looked at his sweat-soaked shirt and caught a glimpse of his biceps, ‘cute’ was far from my mind as other thoughts flooded in.

I shook myself and forced myself to focus on his words.

“I'm just saying,” he said, “that I didn't realize it would be that hard of a workout. My knees are going to be rubbish for a week after this.”

I laughed as I stepped back from the fountain and he took my place. “I told you it would be a lot and that you didn't have to come.”

“I did have to come.” He levelled his gaze at me. I had to look away from the intensity of it, but I knew why he felt that way.

“I appreciate it.”

“I'll do anything to support you, Ruby,” he said as he pulled his water bottle back and taking a sip before he recapped it.

I blushed as we zipped up our coats and picked up our bags, slipping the straps over our shoulders.

“How was your first class?” Brian came up to us, walking out with us as we descended the steps to the main floor.

“Brutal, if I'm being honest.” Niall was wincing with each step but tried his best to hide it from both of us. It was sweet that he'd sacrificed his body in order to help me through whatever I was going through, but a part of me wanted to chastise him for being dumb enough to hurt himself.

Brian nodded. “Sorry,” he said before he held the door open for us, the frigid cold of January greeting us the moment the door opened.

“Does this mean you told someone?” Brian asked me quietly as I passed by him to get outside. Brian knew Niall was my boyfriend. I'd told him a while ago. When they met and I introduced Niall, Brian’s eyes lit up as he smiled and looked back and forth between us.

I nodded.

“You really did tell someone?” He asked his volume back to normal. He was a mixture of curious and impressed.

“It wasn't on purpose,” Niall said, answering for me. His words may have seemed bitter, but his tone was understanding. Brian picked up on it.

“Something happened? The nightmare?”

“I thought someone was following me and had a panic attack,” I said, my voice breaking on the last word. Niall placed his hand on my back. I could feel his comforting touch through my heavy jacket: it grounded me. I took a deep breath in and held it before slowly blowing it out.

“You okay? You need any extra sessions?” Brian asked.

“I don't know what I am,” I said truthfully. “I'll let you know about extra sessions though.” I shot him a grateful look. He nodded.

“How are you handling it?” Brian asked after a minute of us walking in silence. “You were pretty adamant that no one would find out.”

“I feel off,” I said. I could feel Niall's eyes on us, but he was silent, letting this conversation play out. It was a little unnerving, but also a comfort that he was still by my side. He didn't seem jealous that Brian knew quite a bit and he had been in the dark. He didn't seem to envy Brian's ability to help me feel physically more sound in my life. He was handling this very elegantly.

“That could be a good thing.”

“A good thing?”

Brian shrugged. “It may seem counterintuitive to you, but all I'm saying is now that someone else actually knows, you might finally be able to start moving past this, moving forward.”

“I was.” I sounded defensive, even to my own ears.

Brian didn't say anything for a minute, just watched me, his eyes narrowed in disbelief. “If you were, the wouldn't be affecting you as much. You wouldn't start having nightmares months after it happened.”

I frowned down at my feet but didn't respond.

“M’just saying,” He nudged his arm against mine. I just looked up at him. We were all quiet for a bit as well continued on.

“I'll see you next week unless you need me before then. It was nice meeting you, Niall,” he said eventually as he turned and started off down the street toward the train.

“You too, mate,” Niall agreed with a nod and a small wave.

“Thanks,” I called after his receding form.

Silence enveloped the two of us as we kept on toward my apartment. It was not uncomfortable, but it felt so loud that I kept running through conversation topics in my mind. I couldn't settle on anything though, so we kept on in silence.

“I like Brian,” Niall said eventually as we climbed my steps.

I punched in the code. “He's been pretty great,” I said.

“So the nightmare?” He asked, his voice low, even. “How bad is it if you told him?”

“It unnerved me enough that I called him after the first time I had it. And ever since then, if I have it again we do an extra session together. Mostly just on the punching bags and running through moves.” I turned the deadbolt and opened the door, Niall watching as I carefully locked the door behind us before heading up the stairs.

“How have you been hiding that from me?” He asked.

“The nightmare?” He nodded. We’d slept over with each other more than a handful of times. He wanted to know how he'd missed it. “I don't have it when I'm with you.”

“No?” He asked.

I shook my head, unlocking the top door and letting us in. We kicked off our shoes and dropped our bags to the floor.

“Why is that, d’ya think?” He asked, following me into the kitchen.

“Because ever since I've met you I've felt safe around you. Even when you were basically a stranger, something about you just makes me feel calm.”

Niall was quiet for a long time after I said this, just leaning back against the counter as I moved around and started making a quick pasta. I could feel his eyes on me.

“Do you want ice?” I asked once the water was heating on the cooktop. I was absolutely changing the subject. No regrets.

“Huh?”

“Your knee,” I clarified when he bunched up his face in confusion. It was cute.

“Oh. Yeah.” He nodded. “If you have any.”

I went to the freezer and pulled out a bag of peas. I grabbed a tea towel and wrapped it around the bag before handing it over to Niall. He smiled and went over to my table, where he sat and propped his leg up on the chair beside him and I watched as he gently placed the ice on his knee, heard him sigh as he did.

“Is it always that hard?”

“The class?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Brian’s pretty intense.”

“And all of the informational stuff?”

“Some weeks it’s more, some weeks it's less.” I shrugged. “Knowledge is confidence. It's also safety. The more we know how to protect ourselves the less it'll probably be necessary to protect ourselves. The thing is that we’ll probably never need these skills, but knowing them protects us, too.”

“You feel safer?”

“A little?” It came out like a question.

Niall took the peas off of his knee, stood up slowly with a little wince, and then came over to me. He put his hands on my arms and guided my gaze up to meet his.

“Well you are,” he says. “Safe.”

Looking into his eyes, seeing the sincerity on his face, I really felt like it was true. “I know.”

Three weeks later, even though I had felt it to be true at that time, that I knew I was safe, and even though I felt safe around Niall, the panic attacks still happened. I still felt unsafe even though I knew I was perfectly fine.

Now I was sat and watching him as he glanced up at me for the millionth time. He was trying to be sneaky, pretending he was looking at the clock behind me, or just looking around casually, as if just realising the sun had gone down outside the windows or noticing that there was a new song playing softly from the speaker he kept on his counter.

I think it bothered him that I was still afraid, because if he made me feel safe if my classes made me feel safe it didn't make sense why I was so on edge. As hard as he tried to understand it so that he could help me as best as he could, nothing seemed to fit together to make it make sense. I didn't even understand it. It didn't surprise that he couldn't figure it out either.

“Niall,” I said now as he glanced up again and pretended it was because he heard something outside.

He met my eyes and looked sheepish, his cheeks flushing when I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Sorry,” he apologised and looked down at the first in his lap. I had been leaning with my head on his shoulder until I moved and was lying down so that we were perpendicular to each other, my legs tangled with his which were perched on the coffee table.

“Don't apologise.” I nudged him with my foot.

“I know I just… I feel helpless.”

I propped myself up on my elbows so I could better see him. “Helpless?”

“Yeah.” He moves the guitar to the floor and pulled my legs up into his lap, his fingers dancing lightly across my calves. “I mean, I don't know what to do to help you. I think I do. And then I don't. It's literally eating me up that I can't help you when you need me to.”

“I don't need you to help me, Niall. I'm fine.”

"Fine,” he repeated and I wondered why it was I kept coming back to this, a word that you said when someone asked how you were but didn't really care to know the truth. His tone alone, low and clear, let me know just how much he didn't believe me.

He didn’t say anything else. He just studied my face and eventually nodded and then leaned over to pull me close to him, wrapping me up in his arms.

“So what are you reading?” he asked.

I had downloaded a book to my phone and was reading it as we lounged around. We had cooked together, made a tofu stir-fry, and then when it took us an hour to try and decide on a show we’d ended up reading and playing guitar and listening to 70s and 80s rock softly from the speaker that was still playing.

“It’s a non-fiction about the Cambodian genocide called First They Killed My Father.”

“Is it any good?” he asked.

“Its unbelievably good,” I said, nudging my legs against his, enjoying being snuggled against his side. “It’s world-altering knowing the things that humans have done to each other. I can’t imagine living in that kind of situation.”

“I’ll have to read it after you,” he said.

I nodded.

“It’s definitely worth the read. I’ve gotten more and more into non-fiction recently, too,” I told him. “Also,” I glanced up at the clock, “I’m definitely staying the night tonight. I’m way too tired to make it home at this point.”

Niall smiled warmly at me. He’d looked at the clock enough times throughout the evening that he knew it was approaching midnight. Plus, we’d discovered that we liked the intimacy of sleeping together. There was something calming about it.

“Okay.”

I yawned and snuggled further into Niall and further into the couch, my eyes more focused on the backs of their lids than the words on the screen in front of me.

“Long day today?” His smirk made me smile softly as I looked up at him. His hair had long since flopped over into his eyes. Earlier, it had been floofed up by his constantly running his hands through it all day, but as the evening progressed the floof deflated into a messy mop atop his head. It was endearing.

“Louis’ been in the Bucktown location for the past three days since the front of house manager has been out. She had her baby two weeks early, and everything is fine, but the temporary replacement can’t come in early because she’s got another gig and it’s become this whole big thing. He’ll be back next week, but it’s just been a lot for him, and for me.”

“Yeah, he mentioned he’s not been sleeping well.” Niall nodded.

“I can imagine. He’s even tried to get his sister Daisy to call in sick from work for a few days to help him out. He’s handled it though, found someone to take up a lower position for the time being while one of his cashiers fills in, in the interim.”

“He does know what he’s doing. I worry about him though.”

“He’s got the weekend off, but I have a feeling he’s going to try and work from home the whole time.”

Niall chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“But you don’t have to worry, you’ve got enough on your plate. You’ve got two days off as well.”

“I’m going to take full advantage of them.”

“Good,” Niall said.

We sat together in peace for a little longer, Niall’s gaze lifting from his guitar to me less frequently. Only slightly so, but it counted. Eventually, it got to a point where my eyes would not stay open no matter how hard I tried. The last thing I remembered was Niall carrying me to bed and him climbing in beside me.

“Ruby!”

It was the terror in his voice that sunk fear into every fibre of my being. It was the terror in his voice that pulled me out.

I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, but I felt myself shaking all over, I could feel the wetness from my tears on my face and knew that my throat was raw because I’d been in the dream, and had been screaming. I sat up as I brought myself back to reality and focused on Niall’s eyes as he watched me, a sadness sinking into him that I couldn’t even begin to describe. He looked like he was in physical pain as his own breathing, much like mine, was forcefully returned to a semi-normal pattern.

I wiped my tears away and hiccuped as I turned to face him.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He pulled my hands away from my face gently and kissed my cheeks, my forehead, my chin, my nose, and eventually--delicately--my lips for the briefest of moments. His eyes met mine in the darkness of the room, of his room, and I saw the helplessness that took up within them in the last few minutes.

“Do not apologise to me, love,” he whispered back. “Please don’t ever apologise.”

He pulled me close and held me as my body relaxed, the adrenaline leaving my system and leaving me feeling weak and tired as I finally stopped shaking. I sagged against him and took deep breaths, filling my senses with him, using him to ground myself and reassure myself that I’d woken up, that I was safe, that I was no longer in danger, that I hadn’t been in danger for months.

“Is it always like that?” he asked after a while.

I nodded against his chest. “Yes.”

His breath left him in a shaky whoosh, but he held me steady.

“I’m so sorry you’re going through this love,” he said. “I wish I could fix it.”

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not okay,” his voice was soft, but his tone was firm. “You waking up crying is not okay.”

“I know,” I conceded his point. “I know, but… but I meant that it’s okay that you don’t know how to fix it.”

“I didn’t know it was that bad…” he trailed off. “I had no idea.”

This was the first time I’d ever had the dream while staying with Niall. Somehow, just his presence wasn’t enough anymore. Somehow, whatever adverse effect he’d had on the dream before was nullified now. Whatever the reason, there was no longer a safe space for me, awake or asleep.

“What happens if you fall asleep again?” he asked, worry clear in his tone.

“It only comes once a night,” I reassured him. “I’m in the clear now.”

“You’re sure,” he asked, pulling back to meet my eyes again.

I nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.”

After a while, we had calmed enough to lie back down and attempt to find sleep, but I couldn’t. I ended up just pretending to sleep until morning. All I could think about was that the last safe space I’d had was stripped from me and that I wasn’t sure I’d ever sleep soundly again.

#it has been WAY WAY too long #and I'm so sorry about that #I'm honestly not sure when you'll get another chapter #but here we are anyway #please leave me some feedback if you liked/didn't like it #and thank you for sticking with me if you're still out there reading this #fic: only ticket home #fic: OTH #OTH17 #1dff

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sk-getsfit-blog · 5 years

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About Me

Hi everyone and welcome to my weight loss blog! A little background on me and my journey.

My weight issues started when I started middle school. Growing up, my parents both had a negative relationship with food, and this rubbed off on me. My hormones went crazy in puberty (more on this later), and weight started piling on.

A few weeks before my 16th birthday, I was diagnosed with PCOS, a chronic illness that, among other things, comes with insulin resistance, similar to type 2 diabetes. I was put on medication for my insulin resistance and told to lose weight. Super helpful advise for someone with a disease where weight gain is one of the main symptoms. I weighed in at 253 pounds and started weight watchers, with a little success.

FLASH FORWARD to college a year later, fall 2008. I’d lost a little weight in high school, but was still struggling since I could not cook my own meals and was around my mom and brother, who both had a destructive relationship with food. In college, I started focusing my meals around fruits and veggies. I walked a TON on campus. Michigan State University has the largest campus in the country, and I started walking for several hours a day. Weight started to come off without a ton of effort, and I started to feel much better. My second semester, I didn’t have many classes outside of my dorm, and my weight loss stalled.

That summer, I went home. No job, no car, no INTERNET (we didn’t get high speed internet in my home town until 2012). I was miserable. I started running and fell in love. Things clicked and I continued to lose weight.

Year two of college, I kept running and started doing Jillian Michaels workouts with my roommate, and continued to lose weight. I also started counting my calories and focused on what I was eating even more.

Year three, I moved into an apartment with some girls who ended up being horrible. I became more obsessed with working out and dieting, and things quickly went from healthy to sick as weight loss became a competition between “friends.” By the end of year three, I looked sickly thin and ran so much I injured myself. An injury that still bothers me because I never took the time off I needed.

Year four started with more of the same, hours of exercise biking 4 miles to and from campus, walking hours a day, working a very active job, and working out daily. I took pride in eating as little as possible.

Then, it all stopped. The weight started piling back on, and any motivation and control I had was gone. By the time I graduated after year 5, I had gone from my lowest weight of 168 back up to 225.

In the years following college, I was depressed, lonely, and hated my job. I yoyo dieted and injured my achilles tendons from running too much (my ankle injury didn’t teach me anything, I guess). The good thing about this time was that I started weight lifting on and off. Starting over again at 290.8, I’m around the same size as when I originally started (I’m also using a different scale from when I first started, so there is likely a difference there as well. I don’t think for one second that I put on nearly 40 pounds of muscle). While I don’t love how I look now, I know it was important to go through what I did. I had an eating disorder and was over exercising. I needed the break, as much as I wish I didn’t, to repair my mindset.

My PCOS symptoms got much worse as I gained weight back. Mainly, my insulin resistance. This drives pretty much every other symptom of PCOS, which can include hair loss, hirsutism, depression, anxiety, brain fog, chronic exhaustion, pelvic pain, acne, weight gain, trouble losing weight and SO ON.

In January of 2016, my mother passed away unexpectedly because of complications with her weight. It was a wake up call, but it would take a while for me to get back on track. I went on a Disney vacation by myself for her birthday. Disney World was her favorite place, but she didn’t want to go back until she lost weight. The trip was a reminder to not let my weight hold me back, and that I needed to pursue a better life, not live in the downward spiral I had been wallowing in because I didn’t have the life I envisioned after school. I came home inspired. It would take time, but this vacation kicked off a massive life change.

In December of 2018, I took another solo trip to Disney World. When I came home, I knew I wanted to pull the trigger on something I’d dreamed about since that trip in 2016. I decided I was going to move to Florida.

I suffer from severe seasonal depression. I love Michigan with all of my heart, but knew I needed a change. So I applied for a handful of jobs during a blizzard, interviewed for two, got a job offer for one and was able to negotiate my start date so I didn’t have to break my lease. As of April 4th, 2019, I was officially moving to Florida.

So now I’ve been here since August 1st. After a whirlwind of moving, starting a new job, and learning an entirely new state, I knew I could start to focus on my next goal: 12 1/2 years after getting diagnosed, 8 years after hitting my lowest weight, it was time to finally tackle my health.

Which brings me to now. After a few false starts, I’m back to making progress. My diet is mostly vegetarian, with a little meat here and there when it sounds particularly good. I eat a little higher fat, lower carb, and moderate protein. I avoid wheat, added sugar and most grains as they cause my blood sugar to spike and drop, leaving me nauseous, shaky, and in danger of passing out if I don’t eat sugar right away...starting the cycle all over again.

My goal is to lose 100 pounds in a year. I’m incorporating working out back into my life, and attempting to find something I love as much as running.’

So that’s the super long story of me! I’ll add updates to this tag every so often. I reached my goal of losing 8 pounds in October, and want to do the same thing in November.

#aboutme

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lenaisanerd · 6 years

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so that post about delivery people

@lynne-monstr made a post. a post about delivery people. i wrote a fanfic (it’s rlly more of an excuse for outsider pov) 2000 years later. enjoy! (thx to @disaster-lesbiab and @raisehades for editing <3)

Trevor cursed as one wheel of a trolley, loaded with heavy crates, rolled over his foot. Wearing steel toed shoes may have kept his toes from being crushed like grapes, but it hurt anyway.

“Ow, fuck! Watch where you’re going, idiot!”

The idiot, Georgie, mumbled an apology, then went back to leaning against their truck and looking at his phone. I swear, this job would be easier if I locked him in the truck and just did the deliveries on my own, Trevor thought but didn’t say. Who knew what his bosses would make of a Black kid showing that much ‘’unfounded aggression’’ towards his white colleague? Even if said colleague was, in fact, about as competent as a piece of wonderbread.

Trevor rolled his eyes. “Come on man, let’s go. We haven’t got all day.”

He pushed the trolley across the street towards the apartment building while Georgie slouched along behind him, but at least ran out to hold open the door. The lobby was elegant, decorated in dark tones and wood, with marble floors. There was an old-fashioned little booth for a doorman on the right hand wall, but it was empty. They got on the elevator, which was one of the only things in the lobby that looked like it was built this side of the turn of the millenium. As the doors began to close a hand shot out to hold them open. Trevor flinched. He was fairly certain the lobby had been empty just a second before.

“Sorry”, said the hand’s owner as the doors slid open again and he stepped inside. He looked… nice. Definitely not intimidating. But something about him was off. It was hard to pinpoint, but every time he looked at the guy a cold shudder ran down Trevor’s spine. His skin looked cold, lifeless almost. When he noticed the other men staring, he half-smiled at them. He had very sharp teeth.

“Going up?” he asked, motioning to the buttons.

Trevor swallowed. “I mean, this is the ground floor, so yeah.”

“Oh, right,” the guy replied sheepishly. He pushed the button for the penthouse and shifted his stance, fiddling with his headphone cord.

It was like riding the elevator with a shark. Trevor felt watched, observed. He imagined the man’ eyes digging into his back. The gaze of an apex predator. His heart hammered in his chest, he felt cold sweat on his neck. This is it, he thought, this guy is a serial killer. I’m gonna die in this fucking elevator, and the last person I see will be Georgie. One glance at Georgie told him that he wasn’t holding up much better. He probably would have started running already if that hadn’t just resulted in a spectacular crash into the wall of the elevator.

The ding of the elevator reaching its destination made him flinch again. Serial Killer Man (the world’s most terrifying superhero?) stepped out first, heading down the hallway, and ringing the doorbell for Penthouse I.

All of a sudden the strange terror Trevor had felt in his presence dissipated. He felt like he could breathe again. He took a moment to blink and shake his head, then he helped Georgie maneuver the trolley down the hallway and they came to a stop behind and next to Serial Killer Man (It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s a really creepy guy you think is going to murder you!).

The door opened and a scowling, but admittedly very handsome, face poked out. The expression softened when the guy spotted serial killer man, then immediately turned to worry when he saw Trevor, Georgie, and the copious amounts of hard alcohol.

“Simon, hey’’, scowly man said. “Thanks for coming.’’

“Of course’’, serial killer man replied softly. “Is it– how, uh. How’s he holding up?’’

Scowly sighed heavily. “Pretty well, I guess, considering–” he glanced at Trevor and Georgie,”...uh. Stuff.’’ He made a vague, all-encompassing gesture.

“Can I…?” Serial Killer Man asked.

“What? Oh, sure.” Scowly face opened the door a bit wider to let him slip past into the penthouse. Trevor used his chance to get out his pen and clipboard and stick them both into Scowly’s face. Which wasn’t that easy, because the guy was very much on the tall side.

“Sign here please.”

Scowly glanced behind himself, into the loft, then back at the bottles on the trolley. His expression darkened. Very quietly, to himself, he said, “I didn’t know he was drinking this much.” Trevor felt a pang in the pit of his stomach. One of the downsides of delivering to people’s homes was that you sometimes got way too involved in the personal tragedies of your customers. And he always wanted to help, to do something, but what was a delivery guy gonna do? He was just there to get a signature and then fuck off.

Scowly man sighed again. “Guess you can’t really take this stuff back, right?” Trevor shrugged in a way that hopefully conveyed both how sorry he was about that, but that it would also cause him rather a lot of trouble he’d like to avoid.

Scowly man signed reluctantly. Trevor and Georgie started to unload the boxes from the trolley, but Scowly bent down and picked one up like it weighed no more than a carton of milk. Normally, Trevor couldn’t carry one of those by himself, and he wasn’t unfit. The guy seemed like he worked out, but this was just excessive. He didn’t even break a sweat. In about ten seconds the boxes had disappeared behind the door. Scowly was just about to close it when Trevor held out a small flyer.

“I don’t wanna be rude, but uh. If your roommate”– more scowling–”brother”–scowls for days–”boyfriend”–ah, that’s the ticket– “if your boyfriend wants to, you know. Get help.”

The man eyed the AA flyer sceptically. “I don’t think this is a problem mundane meetings can solve.” Huh? “Thanks, anyway.” He tucked the flyer in his pocket. “Have a good day.”

The door clicked closed. Trevor shook his head. What a fucking weirdo this Bane guy must be. Lucky in the boyfriend department though.

The building at High Street Station had a really fancy elevator. That was the first thing Nina noticed, anyway. Makes sense if you think about it, she thought. You gotta have some cash to get groceries delivered every week. She shifted the cardboard box in her hands to rest on one hip and dug her phone out of her coat pocket. Penthouse 1. So a lot of cash. It was early afternoon, and she guessed she would meet the help instead of the residents. Which was fine by her, the staff was usually much nicer to a Hispanic college student in her first week on the job, who still dropped her signing stylus 90 percent of the time. But the few rich people she did meet varied wildly on a scale from boring and snooty to eccentric and weird. She was curious where Mx Penthouse 1 fell.

Ding. Nina stepped out of the elevator, her steps muffled by thick carpeting, and knocked on the door. The hallway was quiet, but after her ears adjusted she could make out faint sounds coming through the door. A clanging, like metal on metal, dull thuds, a roaring like strong wind. Someone shouting. Heavy boots approaching the door. Nina involuntarily took a step back. The door opened just a crack and a guy, early 20s, blonde hair disheveled, poked his head out. He was breathing hard, and– was that blood on his forehead? A scrape, definitely fresh.

“What!” he demanded.

Nina was dumbstruck, torn between giving him the finger and calling the cops. That forehead wound looked nasty, and she suspected he didn’t bump his head getting out of the shower. Instead she stuck out the box.

“Uhh, delivery for M. Bane.”

Another series of clangs and roars from behind him. A girl’s voice called out “Hurry the fuck up, Jace!” Blondie turned to look back, then accepted the box.

He was about to close the door in her face when she managed to dig out her stylus and phone.

“Sign here”, Nina said.

Blondie rolled his eyes but quickly signed. The door banged shut. Nina stood still for a few seconds more, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Then she hurried back to the elevator. She had thirty-four deliveries left and traffic wasn’t gonna get any better.

Victoria’s phone buzzed again. She stared down at it, frowning. Another delivery after this one. To the other side of town and back. Well, fuck. She rubbed her hands together, trying to get some feeling back into them after biking through the freezing rain. It was in weather like this Victoria wondered whether this job paid enough, and the conclusion she inevitably came to was that it didn’t, but that she also couldn’t seem to get a better one. So delivery-app bike courier it was. At least she got a workout while doing it.

The display overhead informed her that she had reached the top floor and so she stepped off the elevator.

Right away Victoria knew which of the apartments she was delivering to: Through a door to her left she could hear music and voices, the muffled echo of celebration, friendship, togetherness. Despite her mood she felt herself smiling. Nothing taught the essential similarities between people like living in a city, where lack of space and number of inhabitants meant that, if one stood still, one could observe many lives continuing on in parallel. Victoria unslung her backpack and rang the doorbell. Footsteps neared.

The guy who opened the door was, there was no other word for it, gorgeous. Golden skin glowed in the low light of the hallway, dark, eyeliner-framed deep brown eyes, black hair in soft spikes. When he turned his head a glint of silver reflected off a delicate cuff on his right ear. And he was really buff. Like the face wasn’t enough. The face that was smiling a very nice smile at her.

“You must be the food?”

“Hopefully not. I’d taste horrible.” The joke had slipped out and she groaned inwardly, but the guy laughed, genuinely and with just a tiny roll of his eyes.

“I should have seen that one coming.”

Victoria grinned and shrugged to say “you really should have” and bent down to unzip her backpack. From inside the apartment she could hear music, now louder, and the sounds of a video game being played and discussed loudly by multiple people. She caught a bit of a sentence ending with “...and in real life jumping between buildings isn’t this hard” and a clonking noise like pots banging together. Something smelled like it was burning. Even gorgeous guy glanced over his shoulder. He seemed concerned, but not quite enough to investigate. Victoria returned to unpacking the bags of food.

When she looked back up, a girl had appeared next to the guy. She was short, red-headed, and also really attractive. If the rest of this guy’s guests looked like this, Victoria supposed she’d have to invite herself to this party.

“How’s it looking in there, biscuit?” Gorgeous asked the redhead.

“They’re this close to fratricide, I’d say.” The girl held up two crossed fingers. “But they’re being very passive aggressive about it.”

Gorgeous nodded thoughtfully and picked something out of her hair. It looked a lot like a small shrimp. He frowned and muttered something like thought they were making lasagna.

“Well, I don’t know what it’s supposed to be, but I’m guessing ‘edible’ is not on the list.” Redhead turned to Victoria and smiled. “You’re our salvation, honestly,” and to Gorgeous, “Thank god you ordered food.”

Another girl’s voice called from somewhere to the left: “Magnus? Why do I smell takeout!?” It was followed by a deeper voice with a similar tone of outrage: “Hey, we’re almost done. It’s not that bad this time,” which was followed by a very insulted “Alec!” The burning smell seemed to be getting stronger and Redhead frowned.

“I’d better get back there, smells like they’ve succeeded in setting your kitchen on fire.”

Gorgeous stopped her from turning back with a hand on her shoulder. “I’ve got this.” He snapped his fingers (it was louder than it should have been) and the smell dissipated suddenly.

Victoria tried to crane her neck in a subtle way. She was now very curious about these guests. She kept herself in check (barely) and handed the bags of food to Red, who accepted them gratefully and carried them back towards what must be the living room. In the low light, Victoria could make out the silhouettes of more people, gathering around Red and calling dibs on the food.

Victoria put her backpack on and, with one last wistful look towards the warm apartment filled with food and company, mentally steeled herself for the bike ride through the cold night. “I’d better get going. Have a good night and enjoy the food. I hope your friends aren’t too disappointed by your ‘betrayal’.”

Gorgeous (Magnus?) rolled his eyes fondly. “They’ll get over it. Until then, all of us will be grateful to you for not letting us starve to death. Oh, I almost forgot,” he dug some money out of his back pocket, “for your trouble. Good night.” With that he shut the door.

On the elevator back down, Victoria unfolded the crisp 50-dollar note. Now if only her next stop was equally generous, this job might become somewhat bearable.

#shadowhunters #shadowhunters fanfic #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters fanfiction #post 3x10 #post erchomai #outsider pov #shtv #fanfuckery

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triilo-write · 6 years

Text

Modern Male Orc x Trans Man Reader (sfw) Part 1

this kinda hit me in the middle of the night when i was supposed to be sleeping so i started it on my phone and then finished on my compute r

You couldn't believe you'd finally cracked. For the last two years you had been happily single, focusing more on earning your degree than on a love life. You liked it that way. The last couple relationships you'd had were... rocky, to say the least, but ended mutually and on good terms. You even sometimes went out to get a drink with one of them now and then; with her new girlfriend tagging along who you were immediately determined to befriend. Your roommate, on the other hand, seemed to think that your forlorn gazes at the other male students was a sign that you needed to give it another shot.

"Okay, just, hear me out." Nira had began during one movie night. The faun had paused at the half wall separating the living room from the ‘kitchen’ with a bowl of hot popcorn in their hands, chocolaty brown eyes locked on you instead of the tv. "Just one date won't bring about the end of the world. You can just ask one of the cute guys in your classes, or at work." They suggested, pouting huffily at your eye roll.

"You know why I can't 'just' do that, N." You sighed, dropping the remote into the little hammock the blanket made between your knees. "I have the worst time talking to anybody, let alone a cute somebody." You glanced at them as they settled down beside you, tucking a leg under the other.

"Then.. Why not not ask them face to face?"

"...You've lost me."

"A dating profile!" Nira exclaimed, eyes glinting excitedly in the dim light. "Just make like, a Tinder or a Grindr or whatever other app floats your boat, and just browse and wait for a match."

You had to admit that at the time it wasn't the worst possible idea. They'd had plenty worse than using a dating app. But.. You still beat around the bush for another week and a half. Eventually you set up a Grindr- without letting Nira know right off the bat- and the waiting game began. You groaned to yourself and left your phone forgotten on your chest to cover your face with your hands. "There's no way I really got talked into this..." You grumbled against your palms, shutting your eyes and closing off all the nervous thoughts prickling at the back of your mind.

Within just a few minutes of calming down, your phone buzzed almost aggressively against you. You expected it to be Nira, or another friend, or even a classmate asking about notes. Instead, it was an alert that someone had liked you. Apparently you really didn’t need to wait as long as you thought.

It was an almost painfully handsome orcish someone. According to the distance he most likely went to your college and probably even stayed in one of the dormitories, or an apartment like you were, and it set off another wave of nerves. From his profile photos he actually was part of the culinary students, which was a bit of a surprise. Especially considering the first photo was of him and a bunch of other men in football uniforms.

Idly, you worried at your bottom lip with your teeth as you read over his bio, shifting onto your side. His name was Mhurren- an addendum of “the H is silent :)” following- and was twenty-three and, apparently, over six-and-a-half feet tall. Good Gods. And, the more you read, the more you found yourself smiling. He liked going hiking, watching The Great British Baking Show, and expressed a great fondness for blueberry muffins. All things you oddly enough, enjoyed too. Chronic joint pain made hiking a, well, pain in the ass; but you loved being out in nature and exploring. Maybe you’d be able to visit the state park together sometime? You sighed to yourself and mulled over your options, your eyes lingering on his face.

In the picture he was with a naga, both of them dressed in the standard double-breasted jacket of culinary students, flour dusting the maroon fabric . He had one thick arm around the naga’s neck in a playfully gentle headlock- you could tell by the beaming grin on both of their faces. The naga herself was beautiful; her skin a warm tan with speckling of deep crimson scales on her cheeks and climbing up her neck. Her dark hair was tied up in a neat bun and amber eyes focused on the camera with a happy glint in them. He, however, captivated you with all the little details. His skin was a deep green, and thick tusks caught the overhead lights; his long hair was dyed a rich dark seafoam with the dark brown roots showing. It was tied back in a beautiful dutch braid that he had pulled over his shoulder, and just messy enough to show he’d let it down out of a bun just a little before. His piercings were beautiful- bright silver studs in erl, snake bite, and brow styles. The philtrum looked like it was more stone than metal, but you couldn’t make out what kind just yet.

Just yet? You didn’t even know if you were going to meet him!

Your gaze drifted from the philtrum to the attractive black septum ring, then up higher to his eyes. Mirth glittered in their mismatched depths, and you found yourself inhaling a little sharply. His right eye was a blue to rival the sky, whereas the left was a striking, storm cloud grey.

...Maybe liking him back couldn’t hurt after all. Your thumb swiped his profile to the right and you could feel a small coil of anxiety twist in your chest as the app announced a match. “Oh, Gods.” You mumbled to yourself as you shifted to sit up, crossing your legs together. Your thumbs nervously tapped the edges of your phone while the chat was loaded; what if you said something wrong right off the bat? Maybe he’d lose interest the moment you started to talk, what if-

A message popped up and drove you from your apprehensive thoughts, and you read it with a flutter in your stomach.

‘hey! sorry if I’m keeping you up any.’

‘Oh! No, no youre fine! Im just settling in to relax for the night’ Not a complete lie, but you didn’t want him to feel bad for talking to you.

‘oh good. I didn’t really expect you to swipe back tbh.’

‘Really?’

‘yeah, but I just joined and don’t really know what to expect in general, you know?’

‘Gods, tell me about it. Ive never had a dating profile before so this is all extremely new’

You were glad he was as new as you were, the awkward process of breaking the ice would be mutual that way. It soothed your uneasiness some, and you moved again to slip out of bed and make your way into the main room. You were much more awake now while the two of you spoke back and forth, and you switched on the electric kettle while you leaned against the counter. He was already making you smile and chuckle to yourself as he talked about how his classes were going, and you in turn dipped into how yours were. He was majoring as a pastry chef, and you were majoring as a geologist.

In a way it was a mistake to tell him that, as the science puns started up without warning as you dropped a bag of Yorkshire Gold tea into your mug. A particularly bad one almost made you laugh out loud and you had to clamp your hand over your mouth quickly to stifle yourself.

‘That was horrible!! Youre lucky i love puns’

‘aha! finally I have an excuse to utilize my awful sense of humor.’

‘Be careful, using it all the time may be’ A brief pause for suspense. ‘Punisble’

His subsequent keysmash and ‘GODS’ filled you with pride and giggle to yourself as the kettle finished heating, and you reached for the handle, typing with one hand.

‘Im glad you enjoyed that so much’

‘I woke up my roommate laughing, look what you do to me’

‘Maybe I could do more’ The message sent before you could stop yourself, heat flaring in your cheeks as you nearly overfilled your mug in shock at your own bravado. ‘I mean make you laugh more!! I bet you have a wonderful laugh, the world should hear it as often as possible!’

You groaned at yourself, putting the kettle back in place and using a spoon to help weigh down the tea bag before covering your face with your hand. You really were digging a deeper hole for yourself, weren’t you? He was bound to lose interest now, you’d been speaking for maybe an hour and then you make a comment like that? Mortifying.

What felt like an eternity had passed before your phone buzzed again and you chanced a peek at the screen, eyeing his response.

‘I’d like that, though. perhaps you’ll get your chance Friday night during dinner, if you want to go with me 💖’

“WHAT-” You yelped in shock, covering your mouth swiftly afterwards, though not swift enough. In moments Nira was at their doorway looking ruffled and worried. You dropped your hand to answer before she even asked. “I.. Just got asked out.”

“Ooh! Who is it, how?” They excitedly hopped over to you, peering curiously at your phone, and huffing at your lack of a reply. “Don’t leave them hanging, that’d be rude.” The faun bumped their head against your shoulder encouragingly before stepping back to put their hands on their hips.

‘Id love that; I just want to warn you its been a long while since Ive been out with anyone, though’

“There we are! Now, fill me in.” They grinned, dark eyes shining with intrigue. Together you stood in the open kitchen with the small overhead light on, mixing up your tea with Nira hanging on your every word. At one point Mhurren had responded, his answer excited and asking to verifying a time- Friday was only a day away, after all. You both settled on seven in the evening to give yourselves a fair bit of time together to talk, before he bid you a good night. Nira, however, wouldn’t leave you to your tea until you showed them the photos of Mhurren. “Now he’s a catch! And he might be able to keep up with your sweet tooth if he’s working to be a pastry chef.” They teased with a wink, patting your shoulder before heading back to their room.

You sat on the couch, watching the dark world outside the large living room window, sipping your cooling tea and mulling over what had happened. Part of you was still nervous that he’d be unhappy with what he saw and heard when you’d both meet up, but you swatted it away to focus on finishing your drink and returning to bed yourself. Even then you didn’t doze for quite some time, but when sleep finally found you it was sound and dreamless.

#modern au #orc #orc boyfriend #orc x reader #trans protag #teratophila #monster x reader

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sassycassieshipsimaginesprefs · 6 years

Text

Mermaid/Man/Person AU Ideas

Some are romantic, some are platonic, some could be both!

-“I’m a relatively new employee at the local supermarket when I hear that there is a cleanup on aisle 14, one of the refrigerated sections. I plod on over with a mop and a plucky attitude and---OH MY WORD THERE IS A SOPPING WET MERMAID/MAN/PERSON ON THE FLOOR WHAT DO I DO THIS WASN’T COVERED IN TRAINING OR MY JOB DESCRIPTION! Turns out, you’ve been human-passing for years but some idiot spilled their water bottle on you” AU

-“You’re half-mermaid and going to college, living in the dorms on campus. You’ve been singing Mamma Mia in the shower quietly and showering at 3AM so you won’t enchant anyone with your voice and you only shower at a normal time when you don’t feel like singing. One night I get off work late and shower at 3AM too in the other set of shower but hear you anyway. I think I’m technically immune to your mermaid magic powers but frick I’m not immune to the fact that you have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. Who are you?!” AU

-“We’re both in marine biology class because we want to clean the ocean pollution and I’m the only one who is more passionate than you and you can’t figure out why I act like ocean pollution is personal ‘til you’re scuba diving and come across me underwater and see my tail. I scream and swim away and refuse to talk to you in class” AU

-“What do you mean I can’t audition for [insert _______’s Got Talent/other show/some musical] because I’m half-mermaid? I can’t enchant people---oh shoot well now I’ve tried to prove that and proved the exact opposite and you’re declaring undying love for me. Please stop you don’t really mean what you’re saying how do I undo this hELP” AU

-“I automatically transform into a mermaid during the full moon, equinoxes, eclipses, and solstices. My significant other doesn’t know and invites me to a pool party on the summer solstice. The sun goes down WAY late and I transform, falling into the pool and that’s how my S/O finds out. Please don’t be mad?” AU

-“My S/O just broke up with me because they found out I’m a mer and thought I’d been enchanting them to be in love with me (I wasn’t). You find me and comfort me and I tell you everything and yeah I’d like to join you for dinner to cheer me up. Thank you so much!” AU

-“I unintentionally enchanted this entire karaoke bar with my voice because of my mermaid genetics and you just came in to see every single person staring mooney-eyed at me and help me get away before anything happens” AU

-“You’re asexual and/or aromantic and believe that you’re immune to mermaids’ and sirens’ songs so you’re plodding around your ship while the rest of the crew has earplugs to block us out but we, the mermaids and sirens, sing about whatever it is you want most and it adapts magically. I am really confused as you jump off the side of the ship because why in Poseidon’s name are we singing about pizza?! Oh wait hey you’re cute like a baby fish I don’t want to drown you” AU

-“You’re the lead singer in a band called Shrieking Sirens (or something) and have a mermaid aesthetic going on. I’m a big fan of your music but one night when I’m drunk/sleep deprived I manage to email you/your manager/your publicist an angry, typo-ridden email about how sirens are bird-ladies not mermaids. You email me back with a ‘We know :)’ and when I’m sober/well-rested I’m really embarrassed but you thought it was hilarious. We started emailing and I find out that you’re all mermaids passing as humans and trying to slightly steer it away from being suspicious with the siren name” AU

-“As if our romance wasn’t forbidden enough because I’m a mermaid and you’re human, you’re actually a dragon disguised as a human because dragons were sick of being persecuted by humans and oh CRAP if my pod ever found out I’d be kicked out for sure” AU

-“What do you mean the dragons aren’t staying in hiding anymore?! They’re going to expose US too!” AU

-“I’m out for a late-night swim in the ocean because I’m hardcore (read: reckless) like that and you’re a mermaid with the fluke of your tail caught in a crab trap and I found you underwater and got your fin out of the trap but it was bleeding and torn and made it hard to swim so I took you home and fixed you up and now you’re recovering in my bathtub?” AU

-“You’re a marine veterinarian and I’m gravely injured after I got attacked by a pod of aggressive orcas/other marine life but you’re out on a rowboat and I’m floating near the surface and you see the blood in the water and manage to pull me into the boat and get me to shore before the sharks come after the blood and you rehabilitate me at your facility in secret because, hey, mermaids aren’t supposed to exist but thank you” AU

-“I got trapped in a rather deep tide pool when the tide went out. Hey you! Yeah you! Strong-looking human! You mind picking me up and hauling me into the ocean? Please? I will reward you with a pearl or something!” AU

-“I grew up in a landlocked area but me and my family just moved to a town on the ocean and I got to swim in the sea for the first time and AAAAAHHHHH! WHAT THE HECK?! WHAT HAPPENED TO MY LEGS? WHY DO I HAVE A TAIL?! And you, a native mer, heard me screaming underwater in the language mers use to communicate and came to see if I was okay and I freak out even worse and you use your singing magic to lull me to sleep and I wake up in an abandoned cove and you’re lounging on the sand next to me and I’m still freaking out but my legs are back and you ask me lots of questions and Look Buddy, I got nothin’.” AU

-“I’m a curious mer hiding under a dock and watching a group of human friends goofing around through the wood and one of your friends pushes you off the end of the dock and into the water and Oh NO! it looks like you can’t swim very well! I should help! But it’s forbidden...” AU

-“You found yourself in an enchanted forest, somehow, and when you make it to a lake, you find me perched on a rock, my tail dangling into the magic lake, talking pleasantly to a unicorn and now you’re positive you’re dreaming and I dunno what to tell ya, mate” AU

-“I’ve been human-passing for years until yoU SPILLED YOUR WATER BOTTLE ALL OVER ME! WHAT THE HECK?!” AU

-“Okay, listen human, the ocean is terrifying and full of creepy/scary stuff. Don’t EVEN judge me for deciding to live on land!” AU

-“I was adopted by human parents when they found me in the sea foam with a little tail that hadn’t even taken on a color yet but turned to legs when I was dry. Turned out they also adopted other abandoned supernatural creatures so I have a werewolf sibling, a vampire sibling, a changeling sibling and their human ‘twin’ and... let’s just say when I brought you home to meet my family you were... very confused to say the least” AU

-“Oh shoot my roommate’s Significant Other is a mer who was singing a love song for my roommate and I fell in love why are mers like this?” AU

-“There was a storm while I was out on a boat and I got knocked overboard and I woke up to you swimming me back to shore and your tail brushes my legs and wHAT THE HECK?! WHY ARE YOUR LEGS SO SLIMY?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T HAVE LEGS?” AU

-“A kiss from a mermaid can keep a person from drowning. But apparently the kiss does that by traNSFORMING WHOEVER WAS KISSED INTO A MER IN THE WATER! And apparently I kissed a mer recently because whAT ON EARTH IS HAPPENING TO ME?! WHO WAS IT THAT I KISSED?” AU

-“I promise my tail looks heavy on land but it’s really graceful and strong underwater. Stop complaining it doesn’t actually weigh two-tons” AU

-“Sometimes humans lose their glasses in the water and they always end up in the mer community and I can’t see underwater for the life of me because everything is blurry and one day my friend, who is also something of my seeing-eye friend, finds some in the sand and puts them on me and OH MY GOODNESS SAND HAS INDIVIDUAL GRAINS?! I have visible scales?! I CAN SEE!?” AU

-“I MAY BE THE MOST PETITE MERMAID YOU’VE EVER SEEN BUT I WILL STILL SINK YOUR WHOLE SHIP, JERK!” AU

-“You have wings and I have a tail. We met by accident/chance and we’re deeply in love but there’s no way we can be together. I’m aquatic and you’re avian. Land is the literal middle ground of us to meet but it’s hard for me to be out of the water and you can’t swim without your wings dragging you down” AU

-“I run a cute cafe/coffee shop/bakery right by the beach. I see mermaids in the water all the time, but no one else ever seems to notice?” AU

-“The local children’s hospital buses the kids who are well enough to the beach every so often where I get there first and pretend to be a mermaid to entertain them---I sing and tell stories. One day you wash up on the shore next to me after they leave but you’re real what the heck?!” AU

-“I’m a single parent and my mermaid-obsessed child(ren) swear up and down they saw a mermaid in the water and I pretend to be interested but my kid(s) can sense I don’t believe them so they rush in to prove it to me and get caught in a riptide before I can get to them. You appear out of nowhere and save them but vanish before I can thank you. Who were you? I spend the next week(s) visiting the beach as often as I can to see if I can find you again. One night I swim out a ways and there you are---now what do I do?” AU

-“I’m dating a mer and somehow we ended up married by mermaid culture customs but not human and... what do???” AU

-“A hurricane scooped you up out of the ocean and flung you inland and thank the heavens you landed in my swimming pool but I didn’t know mermaids existed and screamed” AU

-“Me and my mermaid choir squad are out on some rocks/tiny abandoned island singing for choir practice and you’re sailing nearby with a buddy and hear us. But when we sing and a person ‘falls in love’ they try to impress us so you’ve joined in with our song singing baritone and we drop the magic of the song completely. Get over here we haven’t had a baritone sing with us in ages no we’re not going to drown you just get over here!” AU

#trigger warning: blood #mermaid #mermaid imagine #mermaid AU #mermaid!AU #AU prompts #AU Prompt #AU List #writing prompt #writing prompts

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jimothysomebody · 5 years

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An entry, dream or dream come true?

It could not have felt anymore like a lucid dream. This morning, as I disrobed save for my boxers and the glasses on my face and stepped on the scale. That very same scale, which read 260lbs at the beginning of this month, 24 days ago, displayed numbers which I'd previously made what I considered to be an optimistic prediction of. 245Lbs. Just over a year ago, on April 23rd, I took a shirtless selfie. At that time I was enjoying going to the gym on occasion with my roommate, where I primarily did between 2-4 miles on the stationary bike and treadmill. I was 236Lbs at that time. Imagine my disappointment when it came up in my Instagram and Facebook memories, that since then I had managed to gain 24lbs, in about a years time. Today was a much needed confidence boost, to be seeing results in real time, hell, in 24 days at that. I'm losing weight on average of about 5lbs a week. This will, of course, begin to plateau once I continue to lose more weight as those with more body fat tend to lose it more quickly.

It will be nice, to boost my confidence, to fit some of my favorite old clothes. To be able to take of my 2XL shirts and comfortable fit into a size large. My waist, I'm convinced, is just unchangeable. I was a size 36 (with the exception of a few size 34's) at 185lbs, and I was a size 36 a few weeks ago when I was still 260. And, if I should be so lucky, I'd like to wear size 34's once more if I can manage to get down to 180.

But I must also remind myself, as lovely as it will be to fit smaller clothes again and not feel as uncomfortable taking photos of myself, or being shirtless in public like at the lake or just because, that I cannot allow the ugliness of vanity to consume my desire for weight loss and diet change and make me forget why I did this in the first place. I don't want to be like my mother, and have a stroke in my early 50's. I don't want to be like my father, and have a heart attack in my early 50's, like my father's brother who recently died of a heart attack, or my father's father who died of congestive heart failure, or my Mom's father's father who had a stroke. I don't want to be like my father or all but 1 of his 4 siblings and end up diabetic, or my mother's sister and brother who ended up diabetic. I don't want high blood pressure like my mother. I understand genetics determine a lot but, none of them managed their diet well. None of them maintained a decent level of activity, they all have lead sedentary lives. I don't want to live forever, but Jaysus, I'd like to one of the few men in my family to reach their 70's. I don't want to become a diabetic in my 20's. I want to be able to run or jog or even hike a fair distance before I'm completely out of breath. So far so good with these, but I want to safeguard my health better against these and other heart and weight related diseases with a better diet and by not having as great a sedentary lifestyle.

I can imagine it will still feel like a lucid dream, too good to be true, as I continue with my weekly Wednesday weigh-ins and see that dial tick back less and less. I'm hopeful to see 240 next week, but I won't boohoo if I'm not quite there. I'm still making progress. I've got this.

#jimothy does a diet #jimothy does an entry

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seriouslytryingtoeatclean · 6 years

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In all seriousness I am obviously joking.

If you’re truly thinking about being healthier going into this new year, fuck. yes. Join the cool kids’ club.

If you’re dealing with some kind of addiction or vice standing between you and good health, please scroll down to the post right below this one and buckle up for not-the-most-compassionate-but-still-very-heartfelt real talk.

If you’re just looking to maybe adopt some healthier eating habits and lose a few lbs...

You.

Got.

This.

Maybe you’re extremely overweight or inactive and it’s starting to affect your daily life? No sweat. It’s honestly never too late to make a few changes and turn things around.

I honestly suggest you consider it too, because the alternative is not, like, the best ever.

In all truthfulness I try not to care too much what other people do, because when people barge their way into my life and try to dictate to me what I should or should not be doing I get pretty furious.

However, if you’re in my life I truly care about you and I passively hope you ocassionally read one of my rambling blogs in the off-chance something I’ve written makes actual lucid sense and possibly lends a helping hand in some strange way.

So, back to thinking about getting healthy going into this new year.

Why tho?

Life is meant to be lived!

Why not have a party ‘till you die?!?!

You can totally do that if you want.

Actually, the trick is to learn how to party your fucking face off in moderation which has kind of a long adjustment period depending on what you’re going through and what your party resume looks like but with age and maturity it can be done and it’s the fucking BEST.

I was a fucking alcoholic pill-popping monster in college and my 20’s and now I just enjoy boozing ocassionally with friends when I’m not too stressed out about something else.

It’s literally the best.

And of course I understand that traditionally with addiction it’s an all or nothing thing and if you’ve gotten clean and are looking at this as a free pass to start testing the waters back in *whatever* again... well, for the record that’s in no way what I am saying. If you can’t exercise moderation, that sucks. Too bad for you. Go ahead and send me hate messages about how wrong I am and how dare I comment on the addiction process and blah, blah, blah, I am happy to ignore those.

Also, if you are a self-proclaimed rock star of whom the normal rules of science do not apply and you are out to see what your body can handle probably stop reading right now because the rest of this is for people who aren’t trying to recreate Hunter S. Thompson’s life in real-time. I totally feel you but I’m not about that life so, again, not the blog for you.

Also, please don’t message me and ask me to help guide you or wonder if maybe we could be roommates. Don’t you even think about bringing that evil up into my life!

Is my apartment the Robert Young Center? No it is not.

(Also, for the record (from now into the everlasting future), no I don’t want to try any of your weed. You don’t know the monsters I have known!)

Ok, so, if you’re still actually reading this and wanna talk (i.e. read what I have to say) about making some healthy steps so you can feel better and party with your friends in moderation and just feel good most of the time let me start by giving you a scenario:

(It’s real life too! Mine!)

Imagine you’re halfway through grad school and you’re working part time and you’re fairly stressed out and could not be more single because you are hovering around 4 bills on the bathroom scale (I mean it goes up to 350 and you are just burying that needle - SIDE NOTE: weight and self-worth are independent and my weight was not the sole reason for my solitude) and you kind of did this to yourself because you had like some unwanted attention previously that affected your career so then you knew if you looked way different you wouldn’t have to deal with that and then also, hello, grad school, just have a different career? Well, let’s say one night you are procrastinating on writing a paper, as you usually do, and you just kind of lose consciousness at one point for no real reason which is a little alarming so then you go to the ER and they are like:

“Bitch you could not have type 2 diabetes any harder right now. Are you even being serious with what a disaster this blood work is?!” - the doctor’s not quite exact words.

Um, problem.

If we’ve not met, my name is Lauren and I have been super-unhealthily preoccupied with my weight and appearance since 3rd grade. I’ve always been tall. Like, very talll. And in 3rd grade the entire class had to line up and get weighed for some reason and I tipped the scales far and above everyone else by a substantial amount. SUBSTANTIAL. And I was so weirded out because I honestly was a thin little adorable girl that just happened to be like a torso taller than everyone else, even the boys, and I internalized that number on the scale being so different from everyone else that I fucking snapped and have lived a life of complete body preoccupation that I wish upon no one. At that time my parents had just gotten divorced, my mom younger brother and I had just basically ditched my father as he was recovering from a horrible injury to move in with my grandparents, I literally did not even know what was happening around me half the time and then the universe felt like springing this complex about how much I weighed on me? Thanks just, SOMUCH! I’ll be sure to cycle through all the available eating disorders possible for the rest of my life!

In all seriousness, that’s just a little peek into my personal bullshit. Which when you get right down to it is just a bunch of first world problem whining.

The real problem is that tons of young women (and men too) in this country know all too well how all of that above rambling feels and that’s truly sad. So many people feel like shit about their appearance and weight and that is just really such a shame and waste.

Maybe you grew up with the most insecure and low-self-esteemed examples around you because some of your family members were/are just the worst.

Maybe you made your way into some kind of corporate career and were poised for some real success but then your boss got drunk and demanded that you “show him your fucking tits” or told you how hard you make his dick or how happy he is to see you stopping by the office after hours in the dark and goes in for some kind of strange embrace and you aren’t totally sure what to do in any of those situations because, uh, whattheactualfuck, so you default to doing nothing because you don’t think anyone cares or will believe you or you were worried about what could happen to your other coworker(s) if you said something and then you don’t have those jobs or opportunities anymore.

Maybe you grew up in a household where portion control and/or constructing a whole and actually balanced and nutritious meal wasn’t a thing or a possibility.

Bummer!

All of those scenarious are difficult. It’s not your fault people and/or situations fucking suck but it is up to you how you’re going to react to people and situations like that moving forward and the picture you’re going to create in your mind of how you view and see yourself which has a direct impact on how those around you see and view you.

Bottom Line: If you want to get healthy this new year and want to make changes to your life, if you are doing them for yourself, you are going to kick so much ass I can’t wait to see your progress. You’ll be engaged in the process and actually invest in learning how to do things right and will fucking blow your own mind with what you’re capeable of.

Oh, one last thing, to reference back up to the picture at the beginning of this post. Definitely let loose and enjoy the holidays first. January 1 is the perfect time to start. Once you really commit to health and stop eating a lot of junk and then try to go back and eat some it actually physically hurts and a holiday season without many treats is a holiday season no one should have to endure! 🤪

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