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tentendeservedbetter · 3 years ago

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home is where my team is - Chapter 6

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The moment he entered the street his home laid in, in an area that is considered to be Konoha’s “Inuzuka neighbourhood”, the smell of spices and fresh meat took over the other scents around him, almost making him salivate slightly as he pulled open the front gate. It was early evening - almost time for dinner, he assumed, and man, was he starving.

Kiba nearly tripped over his own feet as he rushed through the front door and sat on the ledge of the entryway of his home, unzipping the back of his sandals and kicking off his shoes. He was about to leave his sandals in their spot, one having flipped over and laying on its side, however, the memories his mom scolding him harshly from the last time he left his shoes in the entryway, and today was the day he did not want hear any type of scolding from Tsume.

Before Kiba could give a command, Akamaru bounced up from the ledge leading into the house, barking and bouncing through the hallway into the living room.

“Chicken! Chicken!” Akamaru barks echoed through the hallways.

"Hey, Akamaru! Sit! Sit!!" A voice came from within, making Kiba jump up from the ledge and briskly walk towards the doorway.

He found Hana standing in the kitchen, near the counter with chicken legs lined up on a glass platter, hands covered in plastic gloves in the air away from her, extending the leg that Akamaru had decided to attach himself onto away from the counter. Akamaru almost immediately backed off of Hana when Kiba stepped into the space, sitting down, but he never left Hana’s side.

“I wasn’t expecting you guys to be back home this early,” Hana commented, looking up to Kiba. She tilted her head to the side, the side of her mouth lifting into a grin, an eyebrow raised. “So? Pass or fail?”

“You knew?” Kiba asked, his eyebrows pulling in automatically at her question, a realization dawning on him. “Why didn’t you tell me that I would have to take another test to become a Genin!”

“You sign a NDA along with your contract to ensure that you don’t tell Academy students about the test,” Hana answered with a slight shrug, taking off the plastic gloves, quickly turning on the sink and running her hands with soap.

Kiba desperately wanted to ask, “What the hell is a NDA?”, but Hana chuckled a bit, continuing, “I’m kidding, it’s not that serious. But they do tell us not to mention it to upcoming Academy graduates, just in case. Even the ones who failed can’t mention it either. So? Did you fail?”

Kiba quickly shoved his hand into his hoodie pocket, pulling out the headband he took off on the way back home, the mixture of sweat and dirt from all those hours running around, fighting Kurenai, and rolling across the ground making the fabric stick to his forehead in a way that even he found to be uncomfortable and mildly gross. The smell of it...well...he didn’t want to begin to describe it. He showed her the handband in the palm of his hand, and he could see Hana’s face brighten up, a big smile.

“Hey, I knew you could do it!” Hana said, walking up towards him, a hand reaching out to rub his head roughly, the strength of it making Kiba’s move around a bit too much, he swore his skull was going to snap off his neck.

“Hey! Ow! Stop it!” Kiba exclaimed, his voice cracking throughout the inflections, and Hana pulled her hand away (but not without giving him a few more ruffles). “You’re ruining my hair!”

“It’s already ruined,” Hana replied, putting a hand on her hip. “Go wash up and come back downstairs. And actually, wash up properly.”

“I’m not a kid! I know how to clean myself,” Kiba continued as Hana silently ushered him out of the kitchen, out into the hallway to the staircases leading up to the top floor.

“Do you? Do you really?” Hana asked, and Kiba squinted his eyes, throwing her his best annoyed look to get her to stop bugging him. He walked up the stairs with Akamaru a step below him, slower than he would, all the movement he did that day catching up to him and making his legs ache in a way that he never felt from anything he had to endure throughout the years at the Academy. Actual battles are different from those training spars they had to do, for sure. When they emphasized endurance and resistance training, Kiba didn't think much of it- but now, he has to come up with some new regimen to follow.

Suddenly, he heard Hana call out from the bottom of the staircase, “Wear your cleanest clothes! We’re going to have guests!”

“What!?” Kiba called back immediately, whipping his head back to look down at her, but all he saw was Hana walking away into the hallways, likely to go back to the kitchen. He yelled, louder now, “Hana! What?! What d’you mean we’re having guests?!”

“You heard me!” He heard Hana’s voice, muffled through the walls, call back, and he could hear the sound of water running again quickly before he could yell back again. He didn’t want to go back downstairs, already at the top of the staircase to begin with, and he knew Hana was going to tell him to leave her alone so she could do what she was doing in peace.

What the hell! Kiba thought as he went through the top drawer that was underneath the bathroom sink, taking out his green visor-like shower cap, after grabbing his towel from his room and throwing all his clothes in the laundry basket in the corner of his room. He nearly stomped into the bathtub, putting the visor around his forehead, around above his ears, before turning the knob maybe a bit too aggressively. He quickly set up the water temperature with the knobs, the cold water from the showerhead turning warm as the water hit his hair, traveling down over his body.

I was going to meet up with Akane after the test! Kiba furiously grabbed the nearest shampoo bottle in the tub - the only one there, a lavender scented one, just lovely, he really needs to buy his own shampoo from now on unless he wanted to smell like a flower shop - and he lathered and massaged it into his brown strands. He was careful not to let the shampoo get anywhere near his ears, he knew that it would annoy him if water got into his ears. I wanted to...oh fuck, my eyes!

He had somehow got soap in his eyes, and Kiba quickly cupped his hands to catch the water and wash his face. After that, he quickly cleaned the rest of his body, not wanting to stand in there longer than he had to.

Kiba had met up with his friends the evening before at the park near the Academy, after he met Kurenai for the first time and he had stayed behind at the tea house with Hinata and Shino. The moment they finished the tea and mochi that Kurenai had (thankfully) paid for, he ran off, not wanting to be held back with them anymore. They were more than excited about their sensei - he was so cool, Akane had swooned, with a bandana and a toothpick in his mouth without a care in the world- and they were definitely much more optimistic about their team than Kiba could have ever dreamed of being.

Hinata and Shino… he won’t lie and say that he thought of them differently before this test they had to take together. Other than what he thought of them before - one being shy and passive and the other being cold, rude, and, well, creepy- he also had thought they would be much more...stuck up.

Well, Shino was kind of stuck up, in a way, however...he did recognize Kiba’s abilities as a shinobi, entrusting him with a pretty big role in their strategy to get Kurenai’s headband. But...the way he speaks to him, with all those big words and explaining every little detail, asking him questions all uppity, like he was looking down on him when he asked a question…

Kiba knew they were from noble clans - the Hyuuga and the Aburame, two of the four other clans to help found the Village, along with the Uchiha and the Akimichi clan. And the only reason Kiba even cared to remember this is because his year had a student from these clans. Sasuke Uchiha and Choji Akimichi, specifically. The latter one, he was acquainted to as well, but he had a hard time believing that Choji came from such an esteemed clan - he always hung out with Shikamaru and asked him for his allowance to buy snacks from the convenient store near the Academy, always snacking during class, and he was not a better student than...any of them, really.

Choji was very different from the other three students. He was definitely friendlier and more outgoing. And he was actually approachable.

Hinata was definitely different from how he thought she would act. Well, yes, she was shy, and was very much a peacekeeper between himself and Shino, and was passive about what to do when they first started the test together. He expected her to be snobbish as well; between all of them, the Hyuuga, from what he remembers from seeing in passing when Hinata was accompanied by a member of the clan to school and on parent-teacher conference night, had a sense of...importance that they carried. They also smelled like, what Kiba would describe as, freaking loaded.

And he expected Hinata to react differently when he teased her - he thought she would have told him off, in a more ladylike way with less cursing obviously (imagine Hinata cursing...that would be funny), like how most of the girls in the class do whenever a guy tries to get on their nerve and make a dumb joke.

Hinata genuinely thought he was serious, and she...just looked very naive. Sheltered, if he had to go there. And she didn’t try to demean him in any way. And...she just accepted his apology, because really, he thought she wouldn’t react that taken aback, and she was just...generally very easy going.

Not saying that he felt some deep and profound connection with them after this test, no. But maybe having to smell them, getting all in their personal space, might have done something? Kiba felt his face start to heat up as he thought about how close he was to them, close to their clothes, their hair, their skin. He never had to do that before; it was his first time. Usually, he would be adjusted to people’s scent through time, and while it did take a very long time that way, it is the least intimate way to get to know someone.

Stop thinking about it, Kiba commanded himself, feeling his heart beating fast, and he turned off the water faucet, taking a deep breath. Now’s not the time...we got other shit to deal with.

“Akamaru!” Kiba opened the bathroom curtains slightly open, grabbing the towel he hung nearby and wrapped it around his chest - no, he meant his waist. He found Akamaru laying down on the mat on the floor, eyes closed as the steam from the hot water created a foggy blanket in the room.

Akamaru immediately pulled himself up on his feet to the sound of Kiba's voice, looking straight at him, barking, “Yes Master!”

“Come here,” Kiba gestured. Akamaru didn’t budge, his tail momentarily stopped moving, and he stared at Kiba, frozen in place. Kiba stared at him for a moment, waiting. But when he noticed Akamaru starting to back away towards the bathroom door, Kiba immediately stepped out of the tub, taking a few steps. Akamaru quickly turned around and started to scrape at the door, whining.

“No! Please don’t!” Akamaru whined, and Kiba swiftly picked him up, holding him with both hands.

“Would you rather Hana wash you?” Kiba replied as he quickly plugged the beige bathtub stopper in the drain, turning on the faucet and letting the water run until it was shallow enough for Akamaru to stand, but deep enough to easily throw water on him.

“Yes-!” Akamaru replied, and without any hesitation, Kiba sat on his knees and let go of Akamaru into the bathtub, where the pup let out a yelp as he landed on his feet.

“It’ll be fast, I promise!” Kiba grumbled as he held Akamaru with a hand around Akamaru’s narrow waist. “And don’t bite, or else!”

“Help! Hana, help me!” Akamaru called out.

“Stay still!”

After what felt like too long for a quick bath for a pup that size, Akamaru was sitting on his bed wrapped in a towel, while Kiba put on, as his sister said, his “cleanest clothes”. Other than what he would wear for training, he didn’t have many options - but a plain black t-shirt and brown cargo pants should be enough to please Hana. The smell of cooked chicken, along with other foods wafted through his slightly opened bedroom door.

What guests are they even going to have?

“You want me to get the hairdryer?” Kiba asked Akamaru while aggressively rubbing a towel in his hair, trying to dry it to the best of his abilities. Akamaru shook his head, and Kiba sat down beside him, patting his fur gently after Akamaru shaked his body quickly.

“Kiba!” He heard Hana’s voice call from the first floor through. “Are you done? Come down!”

“Yeah!” Kiba hollered back.

“Huh? I can’t hear you!” Hana called back.

“I SAID ‘YEAH’!” He got up on his feet, quickly making his way down the stairs, through the hallways, and…

“Well, if isn’t the man of the hour! Congrats, Kiba!”

“What the-” Kiba muttered when he saw the living space was filled with...well...members of the Inuzuka clan.

There were members of his clan sitting on the three couches surrounding the coffee table, spaced out between themselves. He saw the space in between occupied with a few dogs, all of varying fur length and colour but they were all larger, older than the other dogs in the clan, laying on their stomachs, taking a nap. The screen door was slightly open, and he could hear even more dogs, playfully barking while the sound of children yelling in glee.

Young and old...Immediate family or extended members that he does not share blood with...it didn’t matter how they were all related to each other or whether they were related at all. What mattered was that they carried the Inuzuka name, they were loyal to one another in the clan and...they were here.

To celebrate him becoming a Genin.

It was only a fraction of the clan, though - regardless, Kiba felt warm seeing them there. The one who congratulated him first, before everyone else also started to throw whoops and cheers of congratulations, was a man in the Konoha green flak jacket, around middle aged, slightly sturdier in size sitting on the corner seat of one of the couches, with tan skin and brown hair, paler with a few grey strands from age, that fell just below just above his shoulder. He wasn’t one of the most senior members of the clan, but he was getting there, though the man tends to say that he was still agile despite being in his 50s.

“Man of the hour, huh?” Kiba asked, grinning at his words as he approached the couches, and the man stood up, much taller than Kiba and wider than Kiba’s small statue. The man reached over to grab his shoulder, nearly toppling Kiba forward from the strength of his affectionate shake. “So, can I call you Gaku instead of old man?”

“Hey, hey, don’t get too comfortable,” Gaku cautioned, though he laughed while saying it, while the others around him chuckled and laughed at Kiba’s cheeky request. “You’re still a little brat!”

“He’s not so little anymore; you've gotten taller since the last time I saw you,” another man chimed in, and Kiba glanced beyond Gaku, where another middle aged man sat at the end of the couch. His hair was much shorter than Gaku’s, much more grey and split from the side, but just as choppy, not wearing his flak jacket, rather wearing a casual shirt and pants. He had similar red markings on his cheeks. “At this rate, you’ll be taller than Tosa!”

“Well, aren’t you a comedian, Isamu,” Tosa, sitting on the couch opposite from them, scoffed, his voice deeper and lower than the other two men’s. Kiba had to hold back his laugh while the others around them let out laughter at the man’s deeping frown, making the lines on his face deepen, his red marks moving down. “You should consider joining a circus.”

“I’ll do it when I retire,” Isamu replied lightheartedly. “Maybe after Hitomi finishes school, I’ll run away.”

“Please do,” a woman, probably about a few years younger than them but still with evident aging on her tan skin, who sat on the opposite end of the couch Tosa sat on, replied. She grinned, her red marks perking upwards, as she spoke, “Then maybe I will know peace, for once.”

“Well, I did tell you not to settle with him,” He heard another voice from the dining table, and he glanced over at another middle aged woman, her black hair, speckled with grey strands, tied back into a bun, her hands busy skinning an apple. Unlike the others, she didn’t have the red fangs on her cheek. A large plate sat in front of her, already with some apple slices and tangerines.

“Well someone has to be with him, Fuuko,” the woman beside Tosa replied, gesturing towards him as Isamu smiled along. “Look at him. Nobody else in the Village wanted him.”

“Haya, what have I done to deserve this kind of treatment,” Isamua pleaded to his wife, who rolled her eyes in response.

“Aunt Fuuko, you can let Kiba handle the rest,” they heard Hana calling from the kitchen, and Kiba glanced back towards the entryway, finding her holding a tray with fried rice. The smell immediately filled the air, and from the scent Kiba could tell it was fresh from the pan. Hana looked at Kiba, and held the tray out towards him, not moving to him. “Kiba, put this on the table, please.”

“C’mon Hana, it’s the boy’s special day!” Gaku replied before Kiba could even scowl back at her, his body instinctively ready to walk towards her. “Let him rest for a bit.”

“The more hands I have in the kitchen, the faster the food comes out,” Hana replied, glancing down at Kiba, looking at him expectedly. He knew supporting Gaku would not deter her - besides, even if Kiba didn’t want to do it, it wasn’t like he was doing much of the work. Hana must have been preparing all of this food for a while...and Tsume left this morning to go on a mission, and was nowhere in sight, so he could only assume she hadn’t come home yet. Besides...If Tsume comes home to find him not caring for their guest... that’s another fear he does not need.

“Alright, alright,” Kiba replied, walking out of Gaku’s grasp towards Hana. “I’m coming.”

“Good,” Hana said with a wide smile, placing the tray on his arms. “Put this on the table, and then cut the fruits that are there.”

“Sure,” Kiba drawled. “Would you like me to do anything else, my dear sister?”

“Yes,” Hana said brightly, playing along with his tone. “You can make everyone here tea.”

“Hey, Hana! Bring out the sake!” Gaku called out from his seat from the couch. “We can’t celebrate without alcohol!”

“You guys want to drink now?” Hana replied, raising an eyebrow, looking straight at him above Kiba. “You don’t want to wait for everyone else to come?”

“Everyone else?” Kiba repeated, and as if on cue, the ding dong of the doorbell rang through the air. Hana immediately stepped past Kiba, and he quickly went to the dining table, placing the tray in the middle.

“Hey, Aunt Hachi! Thank you for coming! And Mimi, I love your dress, you look so pretty,” Hana kindly greeted their clansmen under the sounds of his aunts and uncles talking in the living room as he entered the kitchen. He begrudgingly filled the kettle on the counter with water from the sink, glancing around the kitchen space. He saw the oven was on, a timer ticking away near it, a mixture of cooked meats and spices emitting from it. Kiba inhaled sharply. There was chicken...more chicken...and meatballs, maybe? The more he sniffed, the more he smelled - tones of teriyaki, miso, the lemon and paprika… he could feel his mouth salivating again, his stomach letting out a low rumble.

He needed to distract himself.

“Who wants tea?” Kiba asked, and he heard a few ‘yeah’, ‘sure’ and ‘here’.

“Let me check if Hige wants one,” Haya said from her seat, gesturing to the sliding door leading outside. “He is sitting outside with Ken and Kegawa. Hige!”

She bellowed his name as she stood up, walking to the sliding door, "Oji-san! You want some tea?”

"Depends- who's making it?" He heard a voice distantly speaking from outside, elderly in quality, low and croaky, slow and steady in the tone.

"Kiba."

"He's here?!” The voice perked up, and Kiba could hear it clearer as it approached the sliding door. “Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

A face peered through the sliding door, aged through years of fighting through many wars before Kiba, or even Tsume, existed on this Earth. What was left of his hair was pure white, his hairline receding to reveal the top of his scalp, shiny under the light. His tan skin was etched with lines - wrinkles and scars, Kiba knew - and his sharp eyes looked around the room, just as they were since he was an active shinobi (or so they say). The Inuzuka genes were strong, even into their old age.

Even the balding.

Kiba considered himself lucky that he probably didn’t have that gene.

“Kiba!” Hige spoke in a booming voice, nearly making Akamaru jump beside him at the sound, much louder than Gaku. “You didn’t come to say hello?”

“I didn’t know you were here, Oji-san,” Kiba replied, giving a slight bow of his head. “You know you would have been the first one I said hello to.”

To this, Hige let out a loud laugh that Kiba swore made the room rumble a bit, grabbing the attention of even the elderly dogs in the room, as he said just as loudly, “You’re just like Tsume!”

“Hey, Oji-san!” Gaku called out. “Quiet down a bit, you’re yelling again! And don’t laugh so loud, you’re gonna raise your blood pressure!”

“What?” Hige replied, glancing around the room for moment. He lifted up a hand behind his ear, and yelled, “Did someone say something?”

“I SAID QUIET DOWN, YOU’RE YELLING AGAIN!” Gaku hollered back, making Isamu cringe beside him, covering his ears with both hands.

“Take your own advice!” Isamu pointed out, before another layer of loud discussion occurred.

"Kiba-niisan's here?!"

A different voice hollered from outside, a lighter voice.

Ken’s here?! Kiba thought, nearly straining his neck from whipping his head towards the door. A small head peered behind Hige, short tufts of brown hair poking in every direction, a boy that was a few years younger than Kiba. The moment the boy’s piercing brown eyes met Kiba’s, his face broke into a big, wide smile, puffing up his markless cheeks and he started to run towards the kitchen, every step light and fast.

“Ken!” Hige exclaimed as the boy ran past him, an order for him to stop running, but he didn’t listen to a word the old man said.

“Kiba-niisan! Kiba-niisan!!” The boy exclaimed as he ran into the kitchen. “Mom said you’re a real ninja now!”

“Yes I am,” Kiba replied, keeping his voice as even as he could. He could never try to make his voice all soft towards kids younger than him- his voice did not allow for that.

“Where’s your headband? Can I see it?” Ken continued to probe, stepping around to look up at Kiba, hovering.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Kiba said, going into his pocket and fishing out his headband. The light of the kitchen caught the metal, giving it a gleam as Ken got on his tiptoes to peer at it with wide eyes.

“Whoaaaa,” Ken gasped as he blinked a few times. “Can I wear it?”

“No, you have to graduate from the Academy before you even think about wearing it,” Kiba said, quickly stuffing back in his pocket before Ken’s little hands could even go near it.

“Why is it blue?” Ken asked quickly, walking around Kiba to look up to him.

“I don’t know. You should ask your old man - he was around when they started making these things,” Kiba replied swiftly.

“I’ve seen headbands that are black, and, and, red, and-” Ken started to rattle off about headbands he’s seen, continuing to hover around Kiba. Kiba could feel his tolerance slowly grating away as he reached up to get a bunch of mugs, laying them out as he poured the boiling hot water into a teapot, the tea bag steeping the water a deep amber.

Hana told him that it was out of admiration, that he should be flattered that Ken looked up to Kiba since Kiba was the only male cousin he had, everyone else in the family being around Hana's age and older. Which, when Kiba thinks about it, yeah he did find it flattering, stroking his ego a bit as well. But that didn't stop Ken's constantly following him around like a tail annoying.

He had Akamaru for that.

“Ken!” another child’s voice, smaller and quieter than Ken’s voice, came from further away. Kiba glanced up to see another child, even younger than Ken, with a similar spiky brown hair that is apparently a common trait amongst the Inuzukas. “Where are you?”

“Kega! I’m in the kitchen,” Ken called out to the child, peering around through the open kitchen doorway. “With Kiba-niisan!”

Please, no more, Kiba looked up, the child’s feet pit-pat across the floor, the legs of his blue overalls snagging along behind.

“Kiba!” the small child exclaimed with a big smile, and he waddled over to where he stood, besides Ken, a good few inches smaller than the boy.

“Hello, Kegawa,” Kiba forced out, making his voice a bit less gruff for the kids, but dammit, his voice wasn’t built to be soft! Now, it’s not that he hates kids, and between the two brothers, Kiba really liked Kegawa because, well...he doesn’t talk as much as Ken, and was much more reserved, a stark contrast.

“Kiba-niisan! Come play with us,” Kegawa asked in a soft tone.

“Yeah!” Ken said in a much louder voice, suddenly tugging on Kiba’s shirt, pulling him as much as his seven year old strength could muster. “Come play with us! Come! COME!”

“Ken, my shirt!” Kiba protested, bordering on whining. Now his shirt’s gonna be stretched out! Kiba let a slight sigh as Ken let go, but the kid did not back off. “I can’t, I make food and everything. Don’t you want to eat chicken nuggets?”

“CHICKEN NUGGETS?!” Ken exclaimed, now enticed by the thought of food. Kids are so easy to distract...

“Yeah, I have to make it though,” Kiba said lightly, bending slightly with his hands on his knees. “I can make it with cheese inside and everything.”

“CHEESE?”

“Yeah, so if you and Kega play for a bit, I’ll make it and give it to you right away,” Kiba continued.

“Thank you…” Kiba could hear a tiny voice coming from the doorway into the living room. A little girl with two brown pigtails in a dress - Mimi, another cousin of theirs- came through the door, Hana right behind her.

“See, Mimi’s here too,” Kiba pointed out, and the brothers whipped their heads around at the same time towards the door. “Why don’t you ask her to play too!”

"Hey, Mimi!” Ken hollered immediately, running up towards the young girl, who stood idly as he grabbed her hand, tugging. “Finally! You’re here! C’mon, let’s go play outside!”

“Oh...okay,” Mimi said, following him closely, as Kega tailed behind her.

“Noka!” Ken called, looking at the portion of the living room where a few dogs laid around, and a black dog glanced up, looking at Ken. “Come play with us!”

“I’ll come out in a bit,” the dog, Noka, barked back lightly, returning to licking the fur on her paw. The dog wasn’t Ken’s dog, no, she was his mother’s ninken; ninkens tend not to leave their master’s side, however, when it comes to their master’s kids, on their master’s orders, they often are found to be a sort of caretaker for their child. Kiba doesn’t know how this specific dog can do it though; Noka was much older, equivalent to a human nearing their middle-age. And yet, she still manages to have the energy to keep up with both Ken and Kegawa.

Kiba let out a little sigh of relief as the three children ran across the room, slipping outside of the sliding door, leaving it slightly open as they were laughing in a childish glee. Finally, he can breathe a little more now.

A woman with red markings and a brown bob entered the living room behind Hana, interestingly wearing the flak jacket - she must've come here right after her shift. She immediately noticed Kiba through the open panel of the kitchen, and walked up to him.

Ah shit, here we go, Kiba thought as the woman affectionately pinched his cheek.

"Kiba-chan! Good job on passing!" The woman, Hachi, another aunt that was related to him somehow, or she wasn't actually related to him by blood, he doesn't remember, sang. He knew that she was Mimi’s mother, so likely she was blood-related. "I knew you could do it!"

"Thank you," Kiba managed to say, and she let go of him.

"Here's a lil’ something something," Hachi continued, and she produced a small envelope from her pocket,

"I can't accept this-" he started, actually wanting the money, but he knew he couldn't readily accept it.

Hachi immediately interrupted, pushing the envelope back to him, tatting, "Nuh uh. Keep it- buy yourself some new clothes for work or whatever you want to get."

Hachi was one of the younger aunts he had in the Inuzuka clan, though he wasn't sure how exactly they were related, she was one of the closer ones to him, he knew. She lived up to the young aunt role to anyone who called her Aunt Hachi - she was much more up to date with what was happening around the village, unlike the other aunts.

And she was the only one who gave out money as a gift when it wasn't New Year. It had helped Kiba out when he wanted to get something, but he didn't have the allowance for it or he knew Tsume would've said no.

“How many people are coming today?” Kiba asked when Hana entered the kitchen after Hachi left, who looked into the oven immediately.

"Everyone who can make it," Hana replied simply, as she took a pair of oven mitts that sat over the oven handle, putting them on as she opened the door. Immediately his senses were taken by the smell of food filling the space. He can't escape it- he could feel his mouth salivating. "That's why...you gotta give me a hand."

"What happened to Ma?" Kiba continued, waiting for the kettle to whistle while he watched Hana carefully place the large trays from within onto laid out towels on the counter.

"She should be here soon," Hana said, without much concern, her focus on the task at hand. "Tosa was out on a mission with her. He said she had to file a report with Uncle Tadao. Those things take a long while sometimes- you're gonna find out soon enough."

The doorbell rang, and Hana took off the oven mitts, heading out once again.

"Put the other trays inside the oven and set the timer to 20!" Hana said as she pointed out trays of meat on a different side of the kitchen counter.

"Please," Kiba emphasized to no one, taking the mitts and putting the trays into the oven.

It continued as such - more clans people entered the house as Hana greeted them, and Kiba was in and out of the kitchen to the dinner table, serving tea as more guests arrived and helping Hana with preparing the food. Eventually, the main courses were finished, and now Kiba simply stood by, waiting for Hana to signal that they could eat.

“Hey Ashi!” He heard his sister’s voice grow much chipper. “You decided to come! And who’s this little baby?”

"A baby?!" Akamaru barked beside Kiba, and started to bound excitedly away from Kiba towards the front.

“Hey, Akamaru!” Kiba replied, quickly following him, trying to catch him.

“Aw, what a cutie! Is this Kiba’s ninken? Sit!” A voice exclaimed delightfully, while Akamaru gave a cute ‘arf’ in response. Kiba peered around the corner, a young woman kneeling to the ground, as she petted Akamaru’s head, who had a tongue sticking out, panting. She continued, "Sorry, Ashimaru wasn’t feeling well!"

Kiba saw the young woman with long, dark brown hair and light brown skin, shorter than Hana in height, taking off her shoes. An equally young man stood beside her holding an infant in his arms, a bit paler than she was, and definitely taller than her, with ashy grey hair did the same. The woman had the red Inuzuka marks on her cheeks; the man, on the other hand, did not.

“Kiba!” the young woman exclaimed upon noticing Kiba, looking past Hana at him, and immediately entered the house. “Congratulations on becoming a Genin!”

“Thank you, thank you,” Kiba replied with a grin as he approached her, expecting her to give him a pat on the head, but rather, she reached over to pinch his cheek like a child. Because of course she would- every single one of them does this with him. “H-Hey! Ashi, leggo!”

“You might be considered a man now, but you’re still my little brother!” Ashi replied happily, letting go. “Aw, Hana, how’re they gonna let him go out on the field when he looks like this, huh?”

“Please, I’m not a kid anymore!” Kiba mumbled, rubbing the cheek she pulled, stinging. At this rate, he was getting worried about the state of his cheek at the end of the night.

Ashi was his cousin, not an immediate cousin, but she was one of Tsume’s nieces...from the many that she called a niece.

Growing up, Hana and her were close friends, always hanging out together. She treated Kiba nearly identical to how Hana would treat him, teasing him and treating him like an annoying little kid, but was much more obnoxious with it, unlike Hana who Kiba thought was at least, less loud and brash. It wasn’t until she started dating her now husband, that he hadn't seen her around the house. They got married two years ago, and immediately had, well...what her husband was holding in arms.

The baby looked blankly at Kiba, big round eyes staring as they watched him carefully, tiny fingers holding on to her father’s shirt, tufts of deep brown hair in pigtails with a bow on one side. Most of their limbs and body, rounded and curved, was covered in a long sleeved black dress, and some white bottoms and little socks with cute dog patterns around it. The baby, a girl named Akita, looked very much like an Inuzuka, despite her father having a starkly contrasting look from Ashi.

“You’ll always be that little kid,” Ashi mused, before turning around and heading back to the entryway. “Oh! And we got you something too!”

She rummaged through the basket that was under the red stroller, pulling out a purple gift bag, and held it up to him. “Here you go!”

“Ashi, you didn’t have to get him anything,” Hana replied. “He just became a Genin.”

“A Genin is still part of the force,” Ashi replied. “And Sanae thought you might need these! Your team is going to be a tracking team, right? You might want to start using these from now on.”

“How did you know?” Kiba asked as he accepted the gift, carefully peering through. Inside was a bag, sealed, with a few round purple balls inside, the size of a tennis ball. He knew immediately what it was, something that he has seen Hana and his mom packed when they were going to head out to a mission - smoke bombs. He hasn’t been able to practice with it, even at the Academy, the budget didn’t allow them to use every weapon, rather just look at it so they knew what it was.

“Everyone’s heard of the new Genin teams that passed by now,” the man, Sanae, behind them spoke up, his voice much softer than Ashi’s, and he took a step up the ledge. Everyone, Kiba assumed, was the shinobi forces. "Only three teams passed this year."

"Really?" Hana asked. "Last year, they only passed one."

“That one was an anomaly,” Ashi said. “Depending on how many teams they make, they put a limit; it’s always been typically 2-4 teams for about 8 years now? But, we are having a shortage of students becoming shinobis too, so that might be affecting our numbers.”

“They’re just not pumping out shinobis like they used to,” Hana replied with a shrug. “There were, like what, 60 students in my year? And we had about 6 teams that made it.”

“Yeah, it was something along those lines for me,” Ashi nodded, before glancing over to her husband. “What about your class?”

“Around that number as well,” Sanae agreed. “It was after the war, after all, so they really needed new shinobi. We had a lot more groups actually...about 10 teams?"

“Ah, that’s right,” Ashi sighed. “I forgot that you’re really old.”

Ashi quickly followed it with a loud laugh, while Sanae just smiled, not saying anything at Ashi’s joke at his expense.

Ashi continued, as they stepped inside, “I don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing that they have a limit with the number of students though. They should be lenient with it.”

“Nah, they’re like that so they can weed out the students that aren’t taking it seriously,” Hana added with a shrug. “Anyways, come inside, please. Kiba, please go make tea for both of them.”

“Alright,” Kiba said, refraining from groaning because, well, at least Hana said please this time. He was about to turn around, but not without bowing his head slightly. “I appreciate the gift. I’ll do my best.”

“Of course you will,” Ashi said, following behind Hana as they led them back down the hall, towards the living room. “You are Tsume’s kid after all.”

Right. He has and will always be known as Tsume’s kid...Hana’s brother… Kiba knew he had a lot more to live up to than most of his classmates had. He’s just going to have to work really hard to prove himself useful for his village.

They walked through the hallway, into the living room. The moment Sanae walked through with their child in hand, however, was when all attention from the rest of the clansmen turned towards them.

“Ashi brought the baby?” Isamu said, sitting up immediately to look over at Akita in Sanae’s arms.

“Hey, hey, where’s my hi, Uncle Isamu?” Ashi asked as she went around to the couches, leaning to give a side hug, to the people on the couches, receiving a nose kiss here and there, an unusual practice for those outside of the Inuzuka clan, but the constant norm they grew up with in the families.

“Yeah, hi,” Isamu said, distracted as Sanae brought the baby towards the center of the couches as he greeted his in-laws, letting Akita look around a bit, now looking a bit more happier at the multiple faces before her. “Sit here, Sanae.”

A demand, not a request, and Sanae looked at Isamu’s gesture towards the empty seat between himself and Gaku. Kiba could tell Sanae was thinking of something as he stared at the seat, and it took him a moment to finally respond with a hesitant smile, “A-ah, alright.”

Kiba watched from the kitchen as Sanae shuffled between the coffee table and the couch, his lean figure wedging itself between the two older men, their wide and muscular bodies taking up most of the space. He gave Akita to Isamu, who immediately swept the baby from his arms, lifting her up in the air before Sanae could protest. Akita, on the other hand, was making some happy sounds, and Isamu continued to gently lift her up and down, while cooing at her. Once Kiba finished making their tea, he placed it on the coffee table.

“Where’s your old man?” Haya asked as Ashi finally set herself down beside her after her greetings.

“He's still on a mission - he won’t be back until tomorrow,” Ashi said with a sigh.

“Already?” Haya asked, a quirk of an eyebrow. “I thought the doctor told him to take it easy with his injury.”

“Yeah, well, what can you do,” Ashi shrugged. “He sees it as a pride thing.”

“Nothing prideful about working with a busted kneecap,” Haya shook her head. Meanwhile, on the other couch, Isamu continued to play with Akita, now playing peek-a-boo while balancing her on his legs.

"Akita,” Gaku cooed from beside Sanae, quietly drinking his tea. “Come to Uncle Gaku."

"Uncle? You could be her grandpa," Tosa commented. Gaku immediately threw him a scowl.

"Don't mess it up for me- Tsume already made these kids call me old man, even when I told her not to," Gaku said while Isamu gently gave him the baby, holding the infant up in the air, before bringing her down to his face. “Who’s a cute little baby? Who’s a cute little baby? You are! You are!”

"Should've had your own, then," Haya commented, to which Isamu laughed.

"Gaku swore to never settle down," Isamu added as he leaned over towards the table, picking up the coffee mug that sat there.

"He made the right choice, then," Hachi replied from one part of the room, with a slight chuckle. "I can't imagine whoever he finds would stay for long."

"What is this slander?" Gaku scolded as he smiled towards Akita, who touched his beard curiously. Akita then reached out and tugged quickly on the tips of his beard and Gaku yelped. “OUCH!”

“H-hey, old man, you scared her!” Hana said when she saw Akita hesitate at Gaku’s yell, her face pausing momentarily as she began to frown. She quickly swooped Akita out of his hands when she let out a little cry. “Okay, okay, sh, sh, okay…”

“M-my bad,” Gaku hesitated, patting Akita on her back while she cried into Hana’s shoulder for a moment. Ashi simply let out a sigh.

“See, that's why Uncle Gaku can’t have his own, he doesn’t know how to reel in his own voice,” Ashi said, while she watched as Hana managed to calm her daughter down, taking a sip from her own tea. “He’ll just scare his own kid.”

“Sheesh…” Gaku mumbled as he took another sip from his cup, disappointed at Akita being quickly taken away from him. “I’m not even that loud- she’s just not used to loud noises, what, with Sanae-boy over here. And you managed to dial it back too, runt.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!" Ashi said deadpanned, but Gaku ignored her to reach a hand on Sanae’s shoulder.

Sanae nearly flinched at the sudden touch, his back much straighter now, and Kiba could tell that there was a rigidity to his form. Gaku then said, a bit of a smirk on his face, “How many more are you planning on having?”

“Oh we-!” Ashi started, but Gaku quickly interjected.

“Hold up, I’m asking Sanae over here,” Gaku said. “I haven’t heard the man talk in ages!”

Isamu decided to join in on badgering the young man, “That’s right! You’re not getting any younger you know! So how many are you two trying for?”

“Hm…” Sanae said, glancing over to Ashi, who watched him carefully. He then glanced around to the two men that surrounded him, expectantly waiting for him to respond. Kiba watched to see what he would say, knowing that this was their way of teasing Sanae, exclusively, and he could see his Adam's apple on his throat rise and fall as he swallowed.

It's not because he wasn't born into the Inuzuka clan, no, not at all. His Aunt Fuuko married into the clan.

It’s just because Sanae was an easier target than the other’s, with his quiet nature and his tendency to get nervous easily. Like he was at that moment.

“Maybe 3 more?” Sanae replied softly, earning a loud laugh from Gaku and Isamu. Ashi’s eyes opened slightly at his response.

“Atta boy,” Gaku laughed, smacking his back affectionately, and Kiba could see the embarrassment on Sanae’s face, the nature of the Inuzuka still making him flush, something that he was likely not comfortable with, only having married into the family 2 years ago.

“Get to it, then,” Isamu added, and they both let out a howl of laughter, while Sanae just stared into his cup, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Who the fuck-Oh shit, my bad,” Ashi started in a louder voice, before catching herself, glancing over at Kiba, alarmed.

"I already know those words," Kiba chimed in. "I'm not a kid anymore, please."

"Your mom better not catch you swearing," Ashi said quickly. She cleared her throat, continued evenly. “And besides, who's going to have more kids? Not me.”

“It’s not worth it, trust me. " Another voice, rougher and higher spoke from the entrance, drawing Kiba's attention. There stood his mother, with her green chunin vest open revealing the black shirt she wore underneath, the red swirl patch on the side. She had a square, white gauze along the side of her jaw, the lipstick she left with this morning wiped off and leaving a wine coloured stain on her lips. “Stick to a max of two kids, if you can.”

“Took you long enough, Tsume!” Gaku exclaimed as Tsume approached him, gripping her arm affectionately. “We can finally crack open the sake!”

“What, you guys didn’t give it to them, yet?” Tsume glanced over to Hana, noticing Akita in her arms and giving her a quick pat on the head. “What, do we not have any?”

“It’s not even that, we were waiting for more people to arrive,” Hana said, glancing over to Kiba. “Kiba! Can you go to the basement and pull out the cases?”

“Hana, let the boy rest, he’s been running around, serving everyone tea,” Fuuko said.

“Is that right,” Tsume said curiously, glancing over at Kiba, seeming a bit proud. “Well, you can do this last thing, and then you’re off the hook.”

“Seriously?” Kiba asked, and Tsume nodded, crossing her arms.

“Well, yeah, maybe this once,” Tsume said with a smirk. “You passed your test, and you helped Hana out. It’s fine- I’ll go get the alcohol. What do you all want?”

Tsume’s voice yelled into the room, and the clansmen yelled out their requests; sake, beers, umeshu, you name it. They likely had it in their basement, tucked away behind a closet, waiting to be opened whenever they had family over or whenever Tsume was in a good mood. The door was always locked, the key always staying in a specific place in the cupboard, and while the key was accessible, Kiba never dared to touch it.

Kiba had tried to sneak into this closet once, when Tsume was sleeping on the couch, drunk and sound asleep from what Kiba could see, and Hana was nowhere to be seen in the house. He saw the key, gleaming on the coffee table, beckoning to come and pick it up, and he put his skills to the test - he was able to get the key soundlessly, and made his way down the stairs, the closet glowing at the end of the basement. He was so close, so close to opening the door, but the click from the lock unlocking made him hear footsteps on the floor above, and in a panic, Kiba escaped through the basement window, making his way back into the living room through the backyard. He quickly put the key back in place, Tsume disappearing from the couch and, he assumed, making her way to the basement, sniffing him out, and left it back where she had left it.

Finally! Kiba held back his sigh of relief as he went towards the table. I can eat!!!

“By the way, look what I brought with me,” Tsume pointed a thumb back behind her, and there was a man, younger than Tsume with less white hair running through his black hair, the red Inuzuka marks on his cheeks, and visible eyebags on his tanned face, leaning against the door frame. “Where’s Ken and Kega? Tell ‘em daddy’s home.”

“Please, wherever they are, leave them alone,” the man sighed, his voice low and tired, as he stood back up, walking towards an empty chair that sat nearby the couches, having been moved from the dining table. Tsume laughed as she made her way to the basement to retrieve the alcohol, Kuromaru following her quickly behind. The man groaned as he took a seat, leaning back into the cushion.

“Tadao, here,” Tosa said, gesturing towards himself as he stood up from his seat beside Ashi. “Sit here.”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks,” Tadao said, but even Kiba could tell from the way he shuffled side to side, he was trying to get comfortable on the chair.

“Now,” Tosa pressed, his voice, always grave, more demanding. “After all you did to track the payload, you need more support than me.”

After a moment, Tadao used an arm - his left arm - to push off the chair, the sleeve from his other arm swinging and swaying with each step, empty. Tosa took himself towards the side where Haya sat, leaning on the arm rest.

“Where’s the wife?” Hachi asked Tadao as he sat down, and he shook his head.

“Ah, you know. The Third is always working the Intelligence Unit to the ground nowadays,” Tadao said, flicking his left hand slightly, as he stretched his neck side to side, grunting slightly. “Kimi said she’ll come by as soon as she can, don’t you worry.”

“You should really see a massage therapist,” Ashi said, shuffling to give him more room. “You know it’s covered, right?”

“I don’t need that,” Tadao said. “Just get one of my kids to stand on my back for a bit and I’ll be fine.”

“Nice exploitation of their tiny feet,” Ashi said, shaking her head.

Tsume returned with a few long, white bottles in her hand, Kuromaru carrying a case of beers by it’s handle with his mouth. “Kiba, one more thing you gotta do- fetch the cups.”

“No problem,” Kiba replied, quickly going into the kitchen, getting all the sake cups, small white cups the size of a palm, and the longer beer glasses he could carry in his hands.

This was it. As always, when it comes to drinking Tsume is the first one to start the drinks and the last one finishing all of them. With his luck, since this was a bigger than usual celebration for their clan, hopefully his mom will get piss drunk within the next hour.

Kiba caught a glimpse of the sky through the sliding door, the blue of the daylight swapped with a deep pink and purple blend. The moon and stars should start showing any moment now- and he wanted to do what he wanted to do before it got too deep into the night.

That’d be more romantic, maybe, Kiba thought mindlessly as he placed the cups on the coffee table, the Inuzukas who wanted to drink - most of them, except for Tadao - gathered around, as Tsume poured the first bottle of sake, the clear liquid filling up the cup cleanly.

“Hey, Kiba!” Gaku said, gesturing for him to come closer. Kiba obeyed, and Gaku raised his cup towards him. “Here! Drink!”

“Uh-” Kiba hesitated immediately, and from the corner of his eyes, he watched closely as Tsume and Hana turned their attention to him.

“Uncle Gaku!” Hana exclaimed. “He’s underage!”

“Ah, c’mon Hana! I’m not offering him the whole drink,” Gaku said. “The boy’s a man now! A full fledged ninja, serving the good ol’ Leaf! You had a bit too, when you graduated!”

“Yeah, champagne, not sake!” Hana replied, and Gaku glanced over to Tsume.

“Well, Tsume? You gonna stop the boy?” Tsume looked at Kiba, who quickly glanced away, not wanting to move unless he got his mother’s okay. Gods knows what her mood was like today, but Kiba wanted to play it safe without getting an earful.

“Let the pup try,” Tsume said, curiously. “He’s not gonna take more than a sip anyways.”

“Alright!” Gaku put the cup in Kiba’s hands, Kiba stumbling to keep the cup steady in his hand, the liquid sloshing out slightly. “A toast to Kiba - the newest Inuzuka to join the Leaf forces and serve the Village! From here on out, you’re no longer a boy, but a full-fledged man! Kanpai!”

“Kanpai!”

“Kanpai,” Kiba mumbled, lifting his cup up towards them as they cheered and whooped, watching as Kiba put the cup to his lip. He hesitated slightly, the smell much stronger in his nostrils, and he could make out every element in this liquid, every fermented grain of rice that went into it. He quickly pursed his lips and sipped… before quickly coughing, the liquid burning as it went down his throat into his stomach. His chest immediately felt warm, a weird warmth he hasn’t felt before, but the taste was both sweet and bitter, if that was even possible.

“Well, now we know he hasn’t been drinking,” Tsume laughed as Kiba quickly gave the drink back to Gaku, who gave his back some hard taps.

“Of course, he knows you’ll give him a run for his life,” Haya cackled after downing her drink.

“You bet I would,” Tsume stated proudly, as she picked up the same bottle again. “C’mon, c’mon, let’s drink some more!”

“Uh, Mom, you should slow down,” Hana said cautiously, and Tsume gave a wave of her hand.

“It’s time to celebrate, Hana! Come here, grab something to drink,” Tsume said, as she filled up the cups once again, while chatter took over, as it always does in an Inuzuka household.

Hana just sighed in response, and came towards the side of the living room, where at this point, Kuromaru had brought more drinks by himself. She squatted down beside him, and asked, “You got anything light?”

“No ma’am, you would have to go out and buy it yourself,” Kuromaru spoke, his lips forming the words in their human language.

“Figures,” Hana said, as she stood up. “And we don’t have any chasers...Kiba. You want to go to get me some soda.”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Kiba said as he watched Hana go to the front, pulling open the closet and rummaging through the coats that hung.

“Both,” Hana said plainly. “Just get me one of those 1 litre sodas. Here.”

Hana lifted her hand, producing a paper rectangle, a 500 ryo. Kiba grimaced.

“Don’t you have a 200? It doesn’t cost that much for sodas,” Kiba replied, and Hana just smiled.

“Use the rest of the money for whatever you want,” Hana replied. She then placed both hands on her hips, giving a quirk of her eyebrow. “Don’t stay out too late, alright? And no funny business either.”

“Wha- What’s that supposed to mean?!” Kiba exclaimed, feeling sweat starting to form on the nape of his neck, the tips of his ears heating up, watching carefully as Hana passed him.

“I said what I said,” Hana said with a shrug, and gave him a slight wave of a ‘see ya’, before returning back to the living room, the noise from the chattering and yelling never diminishing despite the wall that separated the room and the hallway.

“Alright, Akamaru,” Kiba whispered, despite knowing that there was no way his mother or anyone could even hear him from the amount of noise they were making. “Let’s hurry up.”

“Master! Where are we going?” Akamaru barked as Kiba slipped into his sandals, zipping up and strapping them in. Kiba didn’t reply, grabbing a beige hoodie from inside the closet, instead opening the door, running outside, Akamaru hot on his heels.

---------------

Kiba walked briskly through the main streets of Konoha, the winter night darkening the sky immediately, the streetlights along the sides illuminating the roads in a yellow hue. The streets were still bustling with folks making their way home from a long day’s work, shinobi and civilians alike on walking along the path with coworkers, friends, and families, some on their way home from work, other on their way to work, some on their way to their shifts,

The night was cool. Or, as cool as it could be for a January in Konoha. The wind provided most of the chills, and Kiba was happy he had the forethought to grab a hoodie on the way on. There was the scent of warm foods, mostly soup based items, he noted; ramen, oden, sukiyaki, nabe… All foods that you would enjoy on a cold winter night such as this. He inhaled sharply, the coolness of the air, filling his lungs, cooling his warm body, easing his heart that was beating loudly.

He glanced down to Akamaru, trotting alongside him, admiring the stores that lined up along the street. The lights from the stores casted shadows on the road, shaped in the window panel that were there.

The stores didn’t close for a few more hours, he knew, and this gave him the opportunity to take a quick trip towards the northern part of the village, tucked away near the land where the forestry laid outside of the training ground boundaries.

His hands were stuffed into the pocket in the front of his hoodie, fiddling with the headband and wallet inside.

Should he wear the headband? Well, there were no regulations about wearing it off-duty, clearly, since his mother would come home in the middle of the night still wearing it around her arm while drunk with her colleagues. But would he seem like a douche if he did? But he worked hard to pass that test, so maybe he does deserve to wear it...but no, he didn’t want to seem like a show-off just yet.

Hmm...Should he buy something before seeing her?

Nah, that'd be too much. But, then again, if he was going to tell her...how he felt...wouldn't it be better to woo her beforehand?

Should he buy a flower or something? Chocolates? Girls like that type of stuff, right? Akane might try to say she’s different from the other girls in their class, but Kiba knew that she enjoyed those types of things. What do guys his age typically do when they confess to a girl?

Maybe he should’ve asked Hana about this? He didn’t tell anyone about him meeting up with Akane to confess...he didn’t tell Itsuki, nor Natsuo...he didn’t even tell Akamaru, and right now the pup probably thought they were just going on a little stroll around town. Hana might have provided some information about what girls like and whatever...but no, he can’t tell Hana, because he knew for a fact that when it came to matters like this, Hana would tell Tsume.

And Tsume was adamant about Kiba staying focused on being a shinobi, telling him not to waste time on stupid things that would just waste his time in the long run.

But what does Tsume know about love anyways?

He’s not the one who chased his dad away.

Nah, I don’t think she cares that much, Kiba thought as he continued to make his way up the street, the road now sloping upwards in a hill. Konoha was unique in its layout- built near a tall mount, the streets are sloped and slanted in different ways, leftovers of the land before the Village had even installed the roads and buildings they had today. It made for one hell of a trip, though, and oftentimes the villagers would have to determine a route around the village that would enable more flat roads, especially for merchants that travel into the village on a delivery.

There were no shortcuts where Kiba was heading, though. He headed to the forest that was not used for training, a forest reserved for those who work in woodwork, to the Moritaka residence, a civilian family that had a history of producing the top master carpenters for the village.

The Moritaka handled a portion of wood production for Konoha to use and export, chopping down wood, processing them into lumber, and creating structures with it. The Konoha cemetery recently had to rebuild the torii of the entrance, rainfall from previous years having rotted through into the wood, and the Moritaka were responsible, from what Akane had told him with pride.

Akane kind of had her future already made for her, kind of like how Kiba already had one as a shinobi. She didn’t have to become a shinobi, and it’s not like being a shinobi was any less hard, especially physically. At least, as a carpenter, you don’t need to use chakra either, something else that made being a shinobi incredibly exhausting. And it wasn’t like Akane would have to pick up carpentry herself- she could just handle the business aspect of their company, and Kiba knew that she preferred sitting at a desk working on numbers more than using her hands.

Doesn’t matter, though, Kiba thought as he ventured deeper down a street, away from the main streets and into a path, the streetlights much further apart from one another, leaving spots that were darker. The path started to merge into a heavily forested area, lines of trees on both sides, segmented from the path with stone. The night sky could be seen better without the yellow of the lights, and he can see the moon starting to rise, a crescent. I’m a Genin and she’s…

Kiba hoped that Akane’s team passed for more reasons than just seeing Akane at work. Itsuki, Natsuo...they were his friends too, and while he was closer to the first than the latter, he had to have something familiar around him, people that he actually liked and grew up with in the same field, to keep him grounded and...well…

Comfortable.

Kiba soon noticed the path diverging, and he took the path that led deeper, where most of the trees stood haphazardly, thicker and taller in size compared to the trees he had just passed by. The scent differed as well - there were more evergreens here, a new variety of forestry that was always further away from the village. Further down, he could see a wooden house that stood, wide and tall, a singular floor, classical and traditional in nature, minka-esque but modern. The roof, rather than being tiled, was thatched. The lights were on, lighting up the surrounding area, and the front light was on as well, the front door opened wide. As he got closer, he saw a figure coming out, their long hair swaying as they held a tiny brush with an inkpot cradled in their palm, and a scroll on the other hand along with a lantern.

Kiba stopped in his tracks, and his once steady heart started to beat frantically. He was further away from any light source, enveloped in the darkness in between, and he knew that the person couldn’t see him from where he stood. The person started to make their way to the side of the house, towards the back, deeper into the forest.

Maybe he should wait before confessing. No! He told himself that when he graduated from the Academy, he would ask her out! He can’t be a wuss and back off right now! What kind of man does that?

“Akane!”

He called out to her without putting much thought, his voice cracking in between, and now he could feel a wave of embarrassment wash over him. Gods, when will his voice stop cracking?!

Akane stopped in her tracks, turning around to look directly at Kiba. Kiba gulped, clenching his hands into fists, taking a sharp breath to calm his nerves. He walked up to Akane, and Kiba was taken aback by what he saw - Akane had square gauze taped on the side of her cheek, scratches and redness evidence along her nose and her jaws. She still wore the outfit that she had worn the other day, but Kiba could see how the edges frayed, and she was no longer wearing her sandals with the heels, but her home loafers. She didn’t look bad, but she definitely looked like she'd been in a fight; clearly, from the test they had to take in order to become Genins.

“Kiba,” Akane said, her voice a bit lower than normal, a bit more isolated and distant. She must have noticed how Kiba was staring at the gauze on her cheek, and she quickly raised a hand towards it, attempting to cover it with her hand. Akamaru gave a light bark in greeting, drawing her attention towards the small dog. “And Akamaru...What...are you guys doing here?”

“Uh,” Kiba started, returning his glance back at her eyes, clearing his throat. “Uh, well..you said you wanted to meet up, remember? After our first day…”

“Oh,” Akane said slowly, hesitantly, twirling a strand of her purple hair, before she nodded. “Yeah, I forgot about that. My bad. I got home a few hours ago and...My mom wanted me to check the warehouse for a last inventory check.”

“It’s okay,” Kiba said evenly. “You weren’t expecting it either, right? You know...the test.”

He could see Akane’s eyebrows twitching inwards when he said ‘test’, the edge of her lips pulling downwards, into a slight grimace. She stopped herself before she could frown further, instead shaking her head. “Yeah. Took us all by surprise. Did you...see the guys before coming here?”

“Nah, I couldn’t, I was stuck at home with my family,” Kiba sighed. “I wanted to come see you as soon as I can.”

To this, Akane glanced away, but her grimace never left her face. “I see…”

“Do you want me to walk you to the warehouse,” Kiba suddenly said, gesturing towards the lantern in her hand. “I can take that. You’re carrying a lot already.”

Akane stared at him for a moment, looking like she was thinking. She then let out a slight breath, and held up the lantern towards him, before continuing in a much softer tone, “Sure. Don’t hog it. I know how scared you are of the dark.”

“Pft, me? Scared? I ain’t scared of anything,” Kiba chuckled as he took the lantern. Their hands brushed against each other. “Akamaru can protect us, isn’t that right, boy?”

“Yessir! Just leave it to me,” Akamaru barked, as he bounced his way in front of them, ready to walk once they started. Kiba glanced over at Akane, who now had a small smile on her face as she watched Akamaru.

They walked the rest of the way to the warehouse in silence, neither of them starting the conversation. Kiba was too preoccupied about what to say next...when should he confess? Now or later? Should he ask her about her day? Or maybe he should ask about the test...no, no, that’d be too straightforward. But he had another concern too that threw a wrench in what he thought was supposed to be happening...Akane was being unusually quiet and low, and very distant. He didn’t even need to hear her say it - she had an atmosphere around her that was unwelcoming, almost shut off. What should he say? What can he say-

“Let’s sit for a bit,” Akane suddenly spoke, gesturing towards the log that laid in front of the warehouse entrance, the top part cut through to create a flat surface. Kiba immediately sat down, thankful she said something first. Akane sat beside him, a little distance between them. Akamaru hopped on the bench, beside Akane, and Akane picked him up, putting him on her lap, as she patted his soft fur gently.

“How was the test for your team?” Akane asked, never looking at Kiba, keeping her eyes on Akamaru, who now laid on her lap, his eyes closed as her fingers ran through his fur.

“Terrible,” Kiba groaned, using his hands to lean back a bit on the surface. “Our sensei had the brilliant idea of capturing the flag thing with her headband, but the only thing is, she knows how to use genjutsu!”

“Yeah…”

“And we spent hours and hours just trying to find her by ourselves! She put me in a genjutsu and everything, it was so bad,” Kiba laughed. “The Academy didn’t teach us shit, but luckily I remembered what Iruka-sensei taught us with Kai, and I was able to get out...but we ended up with an hour left! So we had to team up and we managed together.”

To this, Akane looked up towards Kiba.

“We?”

“Well, yeah...Hinata and Shino,” Kiba continued, his voice a bit lower, reflecting on what had happened. “Shino made this whole plan for all of us to get the headband and we all had to...basically work together to get it.”

“For real?” Akane asked, quirking her head to the side, her bangs falling to frame her face. The moonlight looked nice against her face. She continued with a bit of a laugh, “Even with that creepy bug fanatic?”

“You know, I didn’t think I would ever get along with them,” Kiba shook his head. “But we did and...well...we got the headband in the end…”

Without each other, I don’t think we would have got it.

“So that means…” Akane mumbled, and Kiba knew this was the perfect time to tell her. He brought out his headband from his hoodie pocket, the Konoha leaf gleaming underneath the white moonlight, and he held it between them.

“Yeah,” Kiba said. “I’m officially a shinobi now.”

Kiba expected Akane to smile. He expected her to be her cheerful self immediately, grabbing him by the arm like she usually did, and congratulate him on becoming a shinobi. But instead, between the whiteness of the moon and orange of the lantern, he could see Akane’s eyes widening, her smirk dropping quickly as she stared at the headband. Her hand froze on Akamaru, no longer moving.

There was a silence that fell between them. Kiba didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what else to say. He was expecting her to have a better reaction- he did just pass a very gruelling test, the hardest one they ever had to take in their many years of training.

And yet...there wasn’t a sign of anything from Akane.

“So what about you,” Kiba broke the silence, his voice slightly hoarse.

“...” Akane looked away, staring straight at the ground, not saying anything.

“...Akane?”

“...We…” She paused quickly, hesitantly, her voice cracking. She gave Kiba a side glance, not being able to face him. “We...we failed…”

The air froze around them, the silence filled with the wind whipping past them, howling. Kiba stared at her, waiting for her to say “joking!” or “sike!”, but Akane just went back to staring at the ground, saying nothing more.

“Wha-” Kiba started, processing what he just heard. They...failed? How was that possible?

“Our sensei thought that...since we didn’t work together during our test...he failed all of us…” Akane explained. “He said that if we wanted to even think about becoming shinobi that we should...take it more seriously and go back to the Academy or just quit while we’re at it. Can you believe it?”

Harsh, Kiba thought, not knowing what to say. Console her? Say everything is going to be alright? She might get mad at him for saying that, she doesn’t like it whenever he is like that with her...

"Well...I guess there's always next year," Kiba replied, though he wasn’t even sure. Akane didn't look his way. "Right? You're gonna take the test again next year?"

Another uncomfortable silence fell between them, and Kiba could feel his throat running dry. The blood in his veins had been pumping non-stop, and it was making his heart beat louder, audible to his own ears, and the silence did not help the situation at all.

“Seriously? That’s all you have to say?” Akane asked, her voice sharper than before.

“W-what?” Kiba asked, and Akane scoffed.

"Forget about it. I'm gonna take the year off," Akane finally said. "Just gonna work for the family business as I figure some stuff out."

Kiba couldn’t stop himself from frowning.

"What? You can't give up now,” Kiba said, his voice a bit steadier, a bit more passionate in his tone. “We studied and trained super hard all these years just to get here! If you miss out on a year, you’ll have to catch up for another year! And you guys know better now...you can retake the test and pass-"

"Yeah, well, easy for you to say all that," Akane scoffed. "You're the one with the headband."

He was immediately taken aback. What was her problem? He was only trying to help; she was the one who wanted to be a ninja too...right?

And what’s going to happen to them if Kiba and Akane’s paths diverge here? Kiba would be a shinobi, while Akane stayed behind...what would happen between them...

"Well-"

"Is that all you wanted to talk about?" Akane asked suddenly as she got up. Akamaru quickly hopped off her lap, onto the ground, looking at her confused. "I have to finish logging in the inventory."

"Oh," Kiba said slowly, standing up immediately. "Uh...yeah… I guess I'll see you later, Akane?"

"Yeah...see you around."

Akane walked into the warehouse without another word, lantern in hand, never looking back as she closed the door behind her, leaving it slightly open. Kiba stood there, staring at the door, not knowing what to do, a vortex of emotions swirling deep in his chest. He was finding it hard to breathe.

He never got to confess but...he felt like he was basically being rejected, but not romantically.

He was now a shinobi. And she is, well... a civilian. And would likely continue to be so.

He was now shut out from her life.

And he felt his chest squeeze slightly, his breath increasing as he slowly walked away from the door Akane had closed. Is this what rejection feels like? Or is this what it feels like when a bond you held dear to you is severed…

I guess… I’ll never know, Kiba thought, continuing down the path he had walked on, without a second glance back.

#kiba inuzuka #shino aburame #hinata hyuuga #hinata #kiba #shino #naruhina #homeiswheremyteamis

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 5 years ago

Text

Tired of Feeling the Blues

The stress is a recipe for disaster, but thankfully Calum’s there to help her all through it.

This is what we call self-indulgence 101. Enjoy soft Calum.

It is a female reader, only referred to as ‘she’. No specific race.

Please stay safe during these uncertain times. Drop a sweet message to your favorite blogger. Reblog your favorite fic. Recommend a fic to me if you want! We need to spread some joy. If you feel so inclined and have the means, you can support me on Ko-fi.

Enjoy my masterlist as well!

___________________________

The tension resides at the base of her skull, creeping its way up the back of her head, pulsing in her temple and right behind her eye. It beats the back of her skull on the left side of her head and the left side only. Her neck is heavy and not even the pillow beneath her neck is able to support it or alleviate the pounding. Closing her eyes hurt. Rolling onto either side hurts. It does not help with the lingering twinge of cramps in her lower back. Physically, she is falling apart. And mentally, she isn’t doing much better. The world in a panic to the pandemic and with her job now closed, she worries about bills. Thankfully right before the shutdown on her job, she had figured housing arrangements with Calum. But that didn’t stop the dizzying worry about her student loans, providing basic necessities for herself and her dog, Ace.

The room is still dark when Calum peaks his head inside. She lays still, not fully under the sheets with Duke on her chest and Ace curled up on her side. It was a slight worry when she first moved at the end of February that Ace would be just too big of a dog around Duke with the German Shepherd abundantly clear in him. There were a couple other things, the best guess was Australian Shepherd. But the vets hadn’t been too sure and the people at the shelter couldn’t quite place it either. And though Ace did like to play rough, the moment she felt like he was getting too rowdy and called for him to cool it, he listened immediately. He was well trained and there was no doubting that.

“Head still hurting?” Cal asks, stepping into the bedroom more. He uses his body to block the light from the hallway as he shuts the door close.

“If you have a guillotine hiding out anywhere, feel free to break it out.”

The bed dips as he settles and his hands settle onto her clothed leg not covered by the sheets. He rubs soothing circles over the black cloth. “You take something for it yet?”

She nods and it’s a fucking mistake. Immediately, it feels like needles in her neck. She groans, throwing her arm over her face. “Yeah. I did.”

Duke picks his head up and upon spotting Calum jumps up. Calum grins, petting the top of his head. “Taking care of Mamas?”

“He has great bedside manners,” she jokes.

“It’s a little past noon. Care for lunch?” Her headache had been plaguing since the night before and she thought sleep would ease the ache. But now it was proving more stubborn that impeded her from going on their morning walk. Calum handled the dogs with ease. But he did worry the entire time about her. Part of him doesn’t want to admit that some of it was out of a panic that somehow she had contracted the disease. But a larger part of him knew that between temporarily losing her job, her period, and overall panic, that the stress wouldn’t be nice on her physical body either.

Her reply is soft. “I’ll take leftovers.”

“I do have soup if you want. Easier to get down.”

“Hmm, I’m a chicken noodle soup kind of gal.”

“Chicken noodle soup then.”

She can feel the bed lifting again. From her lifted arm, she watches him. “You don’t even eat meat. Why do you have chicken in this house?”

“Because you do.”

“I told you you didn’t have too,” she calls as the door starts to creak close with Calum slipping out of it.

“It’s like a treat. A little chicken as a treat,” he winks and closes the door.

Though it makes her feel like one of the dogs, she has to laugh. “A little chicken as a treat.”

There’s a few moments of silence before Duke climbs off her chest. He pitters over to the door and a whine leaves his throat. Though it hurts, she stands and opens the bedroom door. The house isn’t in too bad of shape. She managed, in the time it took Calum to walk the dogs, to collect the trash bins from the curb. She washed the dishes from the late night snacking, put one load of laundry into the washer and scrubbed down the bathrooms. She had meant to sweep too but it hurt to be upright after that so she retired to the bedroom.

Calum hears the click of paws and when he glances down there’s Duke at his feet. “What happened to Nurse Duke?”

“Missed his pops,” she returns sliding into the bar seating. Ace settles onto the couch, but keeps his attention trained onto her.

“You could’ve stayed in the back. I was going to bring it to you.”

She doesn’t quite have the energy to respond, though she does simply wave off the comment before resting her head on her forearms. Calum stirs the soup on the stovetop for a few moments before walking over. His fingers take up the soft muscle of her shoulder. She hums as he guides two fingers up her neck, up and over the tension. It hurts just a little but it helps. The pressure combatting the pounding that seems to have taken up the whole residence of the entire left side. She knows amongst all this, the worry about her, Calum has meetings and promotion to do. She knows he’s got a million other things to juggle but he stopped his world for just five minutes for her.

“I love you,” she sighs when his fingers run up her neck and even into her scalp.

Calum’s laughter is a soft exhale. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not.” And it’s not that he ever thought that she was kidding. But his heart still jumps a little at the furrowed brows that face him as she lifts her head and turns. “I do love you and I would never just say that. Never. You got that?”

It was easy to just say a phrase. But it wasn’t lost on him that it was her that brought in the cans, or did the laundry, or washed the dishes. That was how she always showed her love, helping around the house, doing something to take it off his plate. “I know,” he says. It’s softly and she notices the tears pooling just slightly at his lower lashline.

“Good,” she murmurs against his lips before pressing a soft kiss. “Don’t burn my soup being a sap though. I don’t think I have the mental capabilities to handle that.”

As their noses brush, Calum can’t help his grin. That’s his girl, forever honest. “On it.” The kiss is brief, yet again. His fingers are still kneading at her neck and though it hurts when he pulls away, she knows it’s better than burnt soup. She drops her head on her neck, eyes closed again. When is the pain going to end? When is she going to find relief? From everything really and not just the headache. She needs relief from debt, from social distancing, from panic.

Calum can only watch as she carries herself to the couch. Wrapped in one of his hoodies, she curls herself around Ace. He’d offer sitting outside with him but the sun’s not going to help her headache. There’s almost nothing to do but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do whatever he can. With the soup warmed and in a bowl, he carefully carries it over to her. Her groan is heavy and drawn out as she sits up. “Yeah, just decapitate me please.”

“I’m sorry, love. Eat, try to sleep, okay?”

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes. Don’t worry about me right now, okay? Cuddle Ace. They look so sad that Mamas is not in tip top condition.”

The lip roll is exaggerated, pulling out and down. Calum kisses her forehead, gently cupping the back of her head with the action. His breath is a whisp against her skin as he whispers something. She doesn’t even catch it, not if it were English or Maori. He turns out the lights in the living room for her and soon he’s gone. Not without draping a blanket around her shoulders. She assumes another meeting. He’s taken to sitting outside during those calls. Maybe it’s so she’s not interrupting with the cleaning and that noise and he’s not in the way.

She has every intent to wash the dishes from her quick lunch. But once the soup is settled and she’s curled up again with Ace, it’s just so much easier to sleep. The bowl rests on the coffee table and she can’t find it within herself to get up. And she thinks it’ll be a quick nap too, by the time she gets up, Calum will still be on his conference call. It’s just a quick nap that wraps her up.

Until she finally blinks awake and the living is dark. The kitchen light is one still but there’s no sun peeking in from the blinds and she swears she couldn’t have slept the whole day away. When she pushes up, there’s less pounding in her head but a manageable dull ache. Her bleary eyes try to find the clock in the room to let her know what time it is but it’s much too far. She stands, eyes squinting against the light of the kitchen. It’s just about three and she spins, not sure if it’s three pm or three am. But there’s no way Calum would’ve just left her on the couch.

The blinds are drawn up and the curtains closed. When she pulls them apart, the sun comes blaring through. Her racing heart finally settles. “Thank fuck,” she grumbles.

“Ah, she lives,” Calum teases, peering into the living with a basket on his hip. Laundry. Not the load she started.

“It was dark and I thought I slept the entire day away.”

“No, just a few hours.”

She remembers the dishes, throwing a quick glance down to the coffee table. The bowl and spoon are gone. As her eyes scan, the pot and everything sit in the drying rack. “I can fold laundry,” she offers.

“It’s the last load.” And it’s meant to deter her, but she wiggles her fingers, stepping out from the couch. Calum shakes his head. “I got it.”

“I was supposed to clean my dishes and I didn’t. Let me, please?”

“How’s your head?” He knows as she walks closer that she’ll fight tooth and nail about making up for the dishes. But it’s not a big deal. She continues on and Calum shuffles into the bedroom to hide the basket from her. “Hey, no, you’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

“Give me the basket and no one gets hurt Hood.”

“It’s the last load, baby. Really, it’s okay.”

“You fixed me lunch and cleaned my dishes. Just give me the basket.”

“You’re not feeling well, so of course I did all that.”

She stands toe to toe with him, the basket behind his back pinned between him and their shared dresser. “Basket, Hood.”

“You can use my last name all you want, love. I’m not giving up this fucking basket.”

This happens all the time with them. And she should’ve learned to give up the good fight a long time ago, but giving in was not in her nature. So they stand there, staring, sharing breaths. But neither one of them budges. Calum doesn’t give in and let her take the basket and she doesn’t walk away.

“I have to pee but I’m not walking away,” she utters. The second she goes to pee, it’s over. Calum will start folding.

“Don’t burst your bladder.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Calum watches her, the way her leg starts to shake and he knows she’ll wait this out. There’s no sense in making her prove that point any further either. “Go pee, Christ! I’ll let you help, alright?” She sticks her tongue out, before racing to the bathroom. Calum hollers as she goes, “That’s not a victory for either one of us though!”

“Gray sock,” Cal calls before tossing the sock in her direction. It arches and lands in her waiting hands. To her left are all the unpaired socks. As she finds the matches, she rolls them together and places them into a pile to the right of her. The living room is scattered with clothes. Piles of underwear, separated by owner, and further separated from there, t-shirts rest on the top of the coffee table, alongside the bath towels.

“Who’s shirt?” she asks, wiping the cotton material out so she can get a better look at it.

“Merch,” Calum explains, holding his hand out for it. It takes more effort to toss, so it doesn’t land on their piles incorrectly. He folds it, like she taught him, hooking his pinkies to flip the sleeves back behind. It folds in half once and he folds it half again, creating thirds so that the screen print of the top of the faces peak out. The same thing that graces the cover of the album.

Softly behind the quiet sounds of the dogs clicking about, is the hum of the latest binge that’s already been long forgotten. They’ll restart it again later on when they’re better focused. Calum sits with his laptop open and facing him. Notes for another meeting and he’s bored already just looking at the text. “Where’s the pile for kitchen towels?’ she asks.

Calum, with his eyes still locked on the screen, thinks for a moment. “There’s no pile.”

“You have more space than I do.”

That’s all he needs before he tears his gaze away and catches the towel floating through the air. “What do you want for dinner? And you can’t say whatever is fine.”

In the midst of folding a bath towel, she huffs. “I’m fine with anything.”

He knew she’d find a loophole. She’d find a way to shove off the responsibility onto him. “Burgers?” he suggests, thinking of the patties that might’ve been lingering in the freezer. Her only response is a nod accompanied by a soft sound of agreement.

It’s back to the notes, back to barely listening to the voices on the TV. When all the clothes are folded and tucked away, Calum pulls her onto the couch, into his chest, arms winding around her body. His fingers gently cradle her head. “Any more pain?”

“Just a little pressure.”

His heart is beating against her ears, the steady beat comforting as she burrows into his chest. All it would take to curl up inside the cavity, tuck herself away from everything. Though she can’t physically shrink herself, she happily accepts the soft brush of his fingers over her scalp. “Tomorrow we can make it a mile and a half walk, since you missed out today.”

“You are trying to kill me.” The sentence is punctuated by a kiss to his jawline.

“Ace got scared by a bush today,” Calum relays with a soft laugh. “Some birds were in it and when they flew off, it shook the bush. He got a little freaked. I guess he was too occupied by the couple walking their dogs on the other side of the street.”

“He’s big but he’s a baby. Sounds like someone else I know.” The jest isn’t lost on Calum but he lets it slide for the moment being, taking in the feeling of her tracing patterns on his chest with her fingers.

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grim-faux · 4 years ago

Text

21 - Hall of Rorschachs

The lift gave a harsh clatter against the steel rails, as the cables jerked the empty container back to the ground floor. I twisted around and lunged at the underside in some pitiful attempt to latch on and ride up, or drag it back down if I must. Even if there was doubt I had the strength to hold on, I was desperate. But it was not to be, I was far from grasping the cart as it faded into the dark gullet of the chute. The clatter of the carriage grew distant as I stood in the shadows gazing up, hand outstretched. Begging. My thoughts pleading. No one was listening. I returned my focus to the short corridor with the lamps that buzzed and dim whenever a surge slid through. I was so set on getting out. Ready to say my goodbyes. I let my fucking guard down. How typical. How fucking typical.

I tried the call button beside the chutes entrance, but it required a magnet key. I recalled the Asylum, and the numerous trials I endured to locate those damn cards. I didn’t believe I would stumble upon one down here, since it was ‘Father’ Martin that had planted them for me. God, even in death he’s still giving me shitty fetch quests.

New Objective: Find another way out. I didn’t know what awaited down here, lurking. Didn’t feel prepared to continue. It couldn’t be worse than the twins or Trager, could it? I crossed to the set of doors and pushed one open, and was nearly blinded by the sterile light blazing over the pristine walls and floor. Bright glaring lights, that reminded me of His cell. I blinked the dryness away as I stepped into the hall, I could detect an immediate change in pressure. Aside from the air having a dry and clinical property, I couldn’t explain the sensation, but I didn’t like it. Bravo for intuition. The floor was polished and as bright and white as the cylindrical walls curved around the hall. I wasn’t a geologist so my knowledge was limited, but if I had to guess I would say it was all chiseled from natural stone, from the mountain itself ”…something that had been waiting for them in the mountain.” What the hell was this place? Now that I thought back on it, a colleague of mine had tried to relate a scientific matter to me concerning specific ores, and how it attributed to supernatural occurrences. Truth of the matter I had been a piss poor student, and constantly teased her as she tried to educate me. But I had listened enough. The paranormal was a genre she was interested in, and she was thrilled to tell me about a place she visited in Colorado (not Mount Massive). Some ritzy Hotel, the Overlook I think was the name, its location built upon a cash of natural limestone. Scientific observations were utilized to support theories, that paranormal occurrences could be attributed to high concentrations of limestone in the mountain. Something in the mineral conducted electricity. It sounded a little too fantastic to me, but here and now, I was beginning to wonder if Murkoff had premeditated these findings. Someone believed them. In that case, the Asylum wasn’t target exclusively for the history or the seclusion. It was elected due to the qualities of the region itself. Or maybe I was just tired. I looked up at the symbol printed above the next set of doors. I’d seen it before. No, not the lockers in prison block. The video the Priest had forced me to watch. That symbol was on the floor when the MHS tacticals were throttled like chickens. The atomic, molecular design? Or could there be further religious affiliation? I pushed the doors open and stepped into a fresh scene of horror. I knew this room, and my anxiety increased tenfold. Blood streaked the floor, splattered on the white stone walls. Bullet marks decorated steel and glass in random areas, the pieces of a gun had been scattered over the floor with black splatters. Muscles and entrails glistened under the light as I moved from the doors. Red had dried to the large crescent desk fixed at the rooms center, two large screens sat behind it, bright and cheery in contrast to the stew soaking into the stone. One read Murkoff Corporation, the other sported the trinity Molecular design along with WALRIDER PROJECT in bold. And the symbol on the floor streaked with blood. That symbol was everywhere. With a sigh, I took out my camera and filmed everything. It was giving me low battery warnings, but I had at least a half hour left if I didn’t run out of power for the night vision. Unfortunately, there seemed to be plenty of light in this place. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Whoever finds my corpse – trust no one and tell everyone. I am not crazy. I know, I know, only crazy people say that. But I am as sane as this world allows, with a camera full of evidence. Don’t call it a gospel. Call it a mockery of reason, let the world know it is Murkoff’s fault. Bury these bastards with my mutilated dead body.” It took a few minutes for me to write. My hands seemed steady at first, but when I put pen to paper, well…. Aside from the difficulty of holding my pen against my middle finger, it was almost unbearable to apply pressure to my index finger. I dated the note and leaned back to view murder and rot surrounding me while I wrote. I needed to get my priorities straight. A few plants dotted the room, but I knew they were fake without a glance. Polished gray pillars encircled the lobby, they didn’t resemble any specific mineral. Just general grade cement to support the dark blue ceiling. The far side was comprised of a glassed portion of the wall, with thick pipes behind. Water, gas, electricity, I didn’t care. Beside the wall sat a short desk, out of place among the red streaks. Two chairs had been set facing one another, and two mugs of coffee still sat on the brown wood. I averted my gaze to the opposite wall, where a purge chamber stood open to the room, black blood washed down its sides and soaking the floor. The images came back clearly as I had seen them, despite the drugs swimming through my brain at the time. I could envision the panicked militants shrieking as their bodies were ripped through the tiny crevices in the doors, and holes of the glassed in wall. One man’s legs still lay a few feet from the pile of meat, a string of organs dried to the stone. I stumbled back into the large desk and sat down on its surface. My hand touched a folder beside me, and I looked down to flip through the pages. It was nothing remarkable, nothing relevant I decided. From the personal records of Dr. Wernicke. The Modern Prometheus Document: The Pride of Wisdom Schrodinger Wolfram “FRANKENSTEIN, or The Modern Prometheus” by Mary Shelley, published anonymously in 1818. Chapter 23, excerpt – “Man,” I cried, “how ignorant art thou in thy pride of wisdom! Cease; you know not what it is you say." I broke from the house angry and disturbed, and retired to meditate on some other mode of action. Well, it appeared they created man’s monster. And it hath a wraith unlike no other being in our world. I closed the folder and pinched the bridge of my nose. It was apparent I had dug in too deep, I didn’t know if I could claw out of the grave I had lain in. I suppose I had one choice. Keep digging. I didn’t know exactly where I was, but I had a strong estimate. I was in the Basement of the Asylum. I looked to the security operative slumped in his chair, near where I perched. Briefly, I wondered what would become of the remains of all these people? Even if Murkoff wasn’t the shady bastards that they were, it was impossible to gather up the pieces to return them to their families. The investigation? I slid off the desk and approached the blood splattered door of the cold purge chamber. My breath hitched as I tried to inhale gently, but the pain in my rib couldn’t be negotiated with. I didn’t know if I could do this all over. I might need to find someplace to rest and if fate allowed, I would awaken before I died. The door panel sparkled embers from the torn wires, probably motion sensors detecting my approach. The doors held silent, an eerie howl raised from the dark depths. I raised the NV and reassured myself there was nothing, I was alone except for the dead. The hair bristled along my brow. God, why did I put that image in my head? I shuffled forward into the cradle of the dark. Above wires and cables ran the length of the tunnel, the walls were as they were in the entrance, chiseled and polished stone with occasional gaps that had been glassed off where additional paneling and vital equipment or systems were nestled. The camera flashed a familiar image, I tensed as static buzzed through and waited until it cleared. Nothing but shredded bodies, nothing but the secrets these people died with. I listened to the silence. For so long I was accustomed to the distant shrieks and mutter of people, behind doors I hoped to never open. Now, I was buried deep in solid rock, with only the pulse in my bones to alleviate the sterile peace. Murkoff personnel were everywhere, lined against the walls, bodies torn inside out by a force I could never have a want to comprehend. I doubt any two were slain in the same fashion, or the method of death so violent it was impossible to replicate. As always, never footprints. But what ghost had feet? Guts and lungs splattered up walls, I was unsettled by how fresh it appeared to be, but attributed it to the NV. Thin lines marked the floor, I knew these prints that made long red through copious puddles. I’d seen the same when I was pushed off an elevator by a lunatic. They turned when the tunnel curved, ahead light swept into the shadows. I clicked off the nightvision but hesitated to emerge. I refused to trust the helpful presence of light, but for now it was welcomed while my camera demanded a fresh battery. I dropped the old one and set the new one in. The distant clatter that echoed was a solitary thing throughout the corridor. The wall along my right had the natural mineral trimmed away into flat walls, reinforced with cement, and steel in some areas. The metal portions were fitted with slates, or shields, that same symbol from the lobby was printed besides the shields. I stared down, the marks. Those lines went through these panels, curving around the edge. I debated the meaning as I took a deep breath and squinted my eyes. They looked like portals or panels that could be moved. There was a set of powerful looking hydraulic hinges, but otherwise no handles or switches that could gain access. Probably wouldn’t do me any good anyway. I fit my fingers along the edge testing for a draft, but judged they were airtight. Pressure sealed. This facility was dedicated to science and clinical procedures, despite the butcher of the upper floors. If there was a way out, hopefully I didn’t need to access it within there. I could come back, once the rest of the Block was explored. As I resumed on my way, something came to my thoughts, it was a bit random. In the report it was stated Billy had spoken to the Dr. Wernicke in a white room. I spun around checking the walls and surrounding surfaces. This place was pretty white. But…that wasn’t possible. I looked up and watched a camera connected to the cables in the ceiling revolved slowly, catching all the action as it happened. I glanced back at the doorway before I continued down the hall. A Block. The large plate on the wall identified this as A Block, or the whole hall was? There wasn’t much to it. I was reminded of the Cell Block’s of the Asylum above – C Block, D Block. Clearly this was as a part of the Asylum as the condemned sections of the Female Ward. This didn’t surprise me. But it could have been coincidence as well. I’d go with that, since I was done with the conspiracy theories. The next set of doors had pop marks across the glass and metal, bent out in small boils where bullets had lodged. The bullets were fully visible in the glass, surrounded by the star shaped impressions that commemorate the battle. I felt the shadows around me as I huddled in the garden, the branches cracking as something swept through. That inhuman shrill. In my ear screaming as the thunder laughs, and my vision fills with white. Then I’m curled up in the room, the dry wood and cold plaster on either shoulder as I tremble and listen to the ringing in my ears. The sensation that crawls through me, I can’t explain it. I’ve lost something, yet, nothing is amiss. I don’t feel right. I barely glimpsed the panel at my left. Morphogenic Engine. I stopped with my hand on the door and bent my head around studying the hall I had moved through. You know what? Fuck that. I can’t conceive what it would look like, what exactly it’s supposed to do. I don’t care. I’ll come back! I promise. I’ll come back if I have too. That was probably a hollow promise, but my obligations had faded since I stepped off that damn elevator. I had no luck with elevators. A series of large canisters greeted me on the other side of the doors, pressed to the wall on my left and out of the way. The label read ‘saline’ substitute. That sounded kind of weird, wasn’t saline a substitute? I took in details of the hall, my camera held in no specific position as I walked. The ceiling retained its natural rock, but the walls on either side resembled the interior of medical labs. This all looked like existing cave before Murkoff came along and filled it with their nightmare science. The idea brought me back to the theory of the mountains as the target rather the Asylum, and I wondered about the files I had found dating back before Mount Massive was shut down. If not for the limestone, then the isolated region was more than worth the resources to insure the quality of their uninterrupted studies. I touched the wall on my left as I neared the doorframe. The material was metal and possibly reinforced. I don’t think it was meant for militaristic operations, though they clearly took precautions for their work. For an invasion or ‘terrorist’ attack, a lot of good it did them. A thin red streak slipped between the open doors I peered through, blood was spread from ceiling to floor. I blinked, staring. The air was thick with copper and rot. I was so tired of that smell, but I just couldn’t get away from it. It was soaked into my clothing as it was soaking into the walls around me. I stepped inside, careful of the pieces beside the counter that had once been one or two people. Maybe three. All of them spattered over the floor, organs hung in ribbons on counters, pieces of bone scattered over metal cabinets. I scanned the labels visible through the glassed in shelves. Most were filled with vials of fluids, many of which sported long, four syllable words with –ine or –phen on the end. Files were scattered over the sinks and floors, reminders for injections and progress with patients identified by numbers. I stood beside the rolling chairs and scanned over the room, debating if it was possible that materials remained that I could patch my hands with. Something actually medical, rather the spare shirt that would be waiting for me in the jeep. Pipes twisted around the edge of the ceiling. I followed the sections around the room trying to recall something about pipes. They were pumping the recycled air throughout the facility, they had to. Couldn’t risk foreign contamination. It sounded ridiculous in my head, but I preferred it that way. Revisiting the hall, I turned left. The black stains of yet more Researchers coated the gray metal of Nitroglycerin tanks, scattered beside the wall. He was probably in the midst of transporting them when it all happened. A few tanks managed to stay on the wrecked cart against the wall. I poked into the next room, the remains of staff had all but painted the walls. I stumbled as I leaned on the door, just… everywhere I looked, the broken pieces of tissue and body parts was all over. I have to emphasize the ALL OVER aspect. I thought the Asylum itself was gruesome, but this was something else entirely. I looked from the doors of the room, shot up by bullets, to the large tank of unmarked gas or fluid. At the other corner was a medical waste bin piled high with black bags, stuffed with unknown rubbish. It was a clear violation of sanitation, but for whatever reason Murkoff began to lack in strict policies during its final days. I was curious to what could be crammed in those bags but they sagged and were covered in unknown gunk, and the smell of residual chemicals did not encourage me. It was subtle evidence of distress, though at the time this room from a glance gave the delusion of order and regiment. I stared up as I leaned on the autopsy table bolted to the floors center. Above, an arm hung from one of the pipes that lapped around the ceiling, dried muscle had peeled back to reveal white bone. Threads of intestines stuck to files stuffed into the shelves, the jaw of someone was lodged into the space between a drawer and the countertops edge. It looked like the fleshy tissue of the throat had remained attached. I shut my eyes and rested my weight to my free arm, when I opened my eyes, I noted the pages that had scattered from a folder stained with blood. Under the harsh lamps the fluids looked fresh, almost new. The battery in the camera itself was holding strong, I used it to snap the pictures as I skimmed through. PROJECT WALRIDER POSTMORTEM PRIMATORY REPORT MM1300921 (form note: all material herein to be transcribed and revised to fit legally binding requirements of Murkoff Corp. records. See form 4083) AUTHOR: Jennifer Roland NOTES: My fourteenth autopsy of a Walrider patient, showing no more signs of accepting the therapy than any of the others. There have been slight gains in cell migration and morphogenesis (including effects similar to Human Growth Hormone), but nothing to suggest the stable creation of a sentient, independent swarm. So tired. Doubting my judgment. Will submit another request for leave. The psychological cost of using such far gone and further provoked patients is more than I feel I can handle. May suggest hanging less hope on the far-flung theories of a senile Nazi and move towards using a simpler mechanical engine based on major sperm protein. Will definitely suggest harsher chemical restraints. Murkoff Security killed patient 923 after he overcame enough tranquilizers to put down a hockey team. I’m afraid the Hormone Therapy is interacting with our chemical restraints in a counterproductive manner. This file. This file was very important. It gave insight that had not been present in past documents. The use of words in her text made it sound like…. Dr. Wernicke was still alive. I stared at the phrase she included which made the doctors status current, if it was not a mistake of word use. But that would make him ninety years old, at the least. I set the file down and looked upon the carnage, the violence, the death. I corrected myself. Wernicke had been alive. I couldn’t imagine him surviving this. I tossed the file aside and ventured through the door, turning to the corridors end. Expulsion of gooey innards spread high on the wall, long red lines slid down before the liquid dried. More death, more bodies that had at one time been living people. I pressed my hand to the wall as I took the right corner, avoiding the skin stretched across polished white floor. I don’t know why I was self-conscious now, after I had traipsed through mounds of bodies in the Asylums halls. I couldn’t even come up with a cheap theory. Every corner, I saw red and wet entrails, black skin and orange puss. The air was filled with its rancid vapor, from the methane released as the meat soured. What would they do with all these bodies? Where could you put them all? I didn’t reach the doors in my path. I had to stop and lean on the wall, gazing at them. Doors and more doors. What would be behind them? My liberation at last? I didn’t care, I had to lie down, rest. The ache in my skull was unbearable, if I took one more step I would fall. I couldn’t go on like this. I just kept seeing bodies and faces, images I couldn’t explain. What was I seeing? I wasn’t even hiding in the shadows. The shapes were no longer trapped in my camera. The room spun, I kept myself from stumbling with my hand on the wall as I lowered down. There was a shallow slant beside the floor, I propped my good side on this to keep the pressure off my ribs. I kept the camera in my right hand and set it beside me. I wasn’t planning on sleeping, just needed to give myself a chance to cut the ache. The floor was cold but it felt so good to lay my head against it. It didn’t even matter how bright the bulbs were above, I could turn my face into the collar of my coat and shut my eyes. Almost at once I felt my mind descending into a thick blanket of sleep. I tried to stir from the tempting lull, but I couldn’t resist. I was surrounded by the corpses of dozens of unnamed scientists but I didn’t give a damn, it was too hard to stay conscious. I escaped the pain, I escaped the world, and I escaped the cold halls churning in my mind. As I felt my body slip into the illusion of safety, a painful spasm shot up my spine. I was paralyzed. The sensation was horrible, my muscles locked up and I couldn’t will them to relax. It was as if the concept of mobility was ripped from my brain. I was a prisoner in my body, fully capable of detecting the environment around me but unable to react to it. I felt the camera in my hand as I slowly regained consciousness, but… I remained unable to rip free of the powerful vice that had seized my chest. It was too painful to do anything less pathetic than cringe. I whined as my ribs shifted in my side and gagged. I was suffocating! My eyes open drunkenly, dots whirling in my vision as my brain craved oxygen. I saw something. A dark shape leaning over me, staring into my face. I barked out a terrified sound and swung my arms out, clipping the wall with my left hand as I thrashed. I scrambled over the floor struggling to escape thin air, until I was pressed back into the doors. I stared wild eyed, disturbed and gasping for air, despite the odd tickle in my chest. There was… Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The lights blazed down as fierce as when I had dropped, my head pulsed the same as before. No change. There was no demon here. The sharp sting returned to my finger as I recalled, I’d just smacked a stone wall with it. I clutched the shaking hand to my chest, and curled my other arm around it and barred myself in with my knees. I sat for moment fighting to forget the pain, while my filthy pants soaked up red drops. “Nothing is here,” I whispered. “Just a nightmare.” My voice rattled against the walls, impossibly loud, overpowering briefly the dull buzz that hung over me. I uncoiled and trusted weight on the bleeding hand to push me upright. My body was uncooperative but my mental brawn won over. I shut the door behind me and scanned the long corridor ahead. To my eyes it just went on forever. Probably wasn’t too far off. A thick pipe extended overhead, I saw no other visible wires and took this might have been the main electrical. Beside it metal cabinets jutted from the walls, though the natural stone work remained in this tunnel, along with various protrusions. Additions, such as flues were burrowed into the rock on either side, and another thick gray pipe extended along the ceiling. Electricity was in the air, I could feel it like the hum from a television when you first turn it on. But it’s forceful, charged in the empty space but not in the walls themselves. Maybe it was the lamps overhead. I set my hand on the gray pipe testing the vibrations but felt none. I ignored the marks of blood I left behind, as I walked and swayed around the huge tanks. Many stood my height but none held clear labels, just a serial label printed on the metal top. The sides of the floor were marked with caution strips, and other more descript warning lines marked the floor every few feet. I skimmed over the large pipes bent and twisted along the corridor walls, of what they transported I couldn’t say. Looked like aqueducts, but I doubted this. Pallets stacked high with bags and covered with a blue tarp, had been abandoned in the hall. I tried to peel back the plastic cover and record what was beneath but the material was thick. I also lacked the patience. I slipped over the top rather crawl around. Judging by the layout of this tunnel, I could deduce this was not a main wing but dedicated to temporary storage hall. Plans in the schedule might have included park the pellets in a more particle space, but that was before the shit storm hit. Or this was another example of a lapse in protocol. I winced when another thought hit. Files existed that made note on the cutback in staff costs. The man I had seen playing the piano. Had he been a patient? I jumped when the camera sputtered, the noise echoed from the chiseled walls. Damn it! That scared the shit out of me! I held it away as the visor cleared, and continued walking. The files would be corrupt, I decided. But I could still salvage them, I had equipment for that. My shoulders shook on the thought of reviewing what I had recorded. The sounds I made when I ran from Trager. It didn’t even sound like me. Was that really me? I said that allowed, and paused to glance around wondering if it was I that had spoken. I barely began walking when I noticed to my left, a window. I skid to a stop and backed up. A window! Transparent hand prints of red stained the surface, but beyond that sunlight. Sunlight! From the outside! It was all clear golden sky, rolling hills. No more storms filled with monsters shrieking with the thunder! The outside world was still out there. It was waiting just for me. I was staring into a militaristic hangar, a few vehicles parked under the steel structure ceiling, the walls stretched around appeared reinforced. Most important of all, there was no sign of life, no movement. Just equipment, materials, large barrels of god knows what. And that beautiful sunlight washed across the military jeep wedged in the doorway. If I was viewing it from the correct angle, no one was going to close that door unless they packed some powerful explosives. Or, had the key to the jeep. I held the camera up and filmed what I was seeing, while trying not to get too close to the Plexiglas. There had to be— Ah. Over there! Far right wall, lit up like Christmas. A purge gate. From the distance and discoloration of the window, I couldn’t validate if it functioned or not. But it didn’t matter, it was the first entrance/exit I had come across. There didn’t seem to be any difficulty in dismantling those purge gates though. How did I get over there? I tracked the hall that continued before me, with my eyes. If I had a map, no doubt it’d have an arrow indicating this way led to the exit. Large blue barrels sat in my path, I could view traces of blood on the walls just beyond them. Directly behind me, another set of doors clear and featureless. Above the frame a green bulb, indicating they were unlocked? I stared into the white hall within, while my mind hunted for escape. I had visions of myself entering that small hall and an alarm going off, a steel shutter lowering like in some James Bond film and me stuck inside forever because I just couldn’t let go. Or maybe I was afraid to? Could that be it? The doors parted automatically upon detecting my movement, the plastic panels issued a soft hiss as frigid air swept out. I paused in the entrance, not doubting my fears, whichever ones I had. I debated turning away and just leaving, working on that gate and my inevitable freedom. But I really couldn’t have too much evidence. I said that once before. But maybe I was right. I was afraid. The short hall was cold, the air crisp, fresh. One of the two doors was left open, which explained the drop in temperature. It was a small room filled with freezers, all below zero temperatures. I stepped around the right side trying a few of the doors, but they required access codes through key panels. At the left side of the room a door had been smashed, the locking mechanism no longer active allowed numerous clear vials to spill across the floor. Whatever the contents, they had dried and converted white limestone into varying shades of iridescent. I kicked a few away with my foot and listened as the glass crinkled as I turned. Along the back wall of the room sat lesser refrigerated cabinets, the contents exposed through foggy glass. Beside them, a dry erase board. I stood before it, my camera giving its usual complaint as I waited patiently for it to quiet. It was some form of chemical engineering algorithm, exponents and a formula function I did not recognize. All in blue marker, except for the title at the top, which was a simple label written in black.

Morphogenic Engine

#miles upshure #outlast #outlast novelized #outlast fanfiction

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on-fic-writing-spree · 4 years ago

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I’m gonna write?? A shit load of things I do down and uh can anyone tell me if these are normal things or not cause god I fucking hate not knowing and it tears me apart sometimes cause I really think there’s something wrong with me but I can’t say WHATS wrong with me and I hate not knowing but

Shit I do that honestly leads me to believe I have OCD or something at least:

I get into these weird moods where anytime I do something to one part of my body, I feel a need to do it to an opposite corresponding part. Even sometimes when it’s painful (mildly painful, I luckily haven’t gotten into these moods and seriously injure myself). If I don’t do it right I have to do it again. For example, if I tap my left first finger on something, I either have to tap all my fingers on my left hand, or my right finger. If my foot hits a wire, I have to hit my other foot on it. If I feel something under my nail and scrape my thumb under that nail, I have to repeatedly do it to each of my nails until it feels “right.”

If something doesn’t shut “right” I have to reshut it.

I can’t drink out of a cup anymore without rinsing it out. I standardly do this three times.

This one is kinda about something more personal but at one point we had bed bugs more recently (within the past two years I’ll give vaguely) and they were a huge pain to get rid of. When I was younger, the houses we lived in were real shit and they were far from clean (meaning yes there were bugs, this was when I was super young) and when I was a really little kid??? It never bothered me. But then when I had found out we had bed bugs and it was just such a pain in the ass to get rid of them, I couldn’t sleep, I straight up sat on my dresser all night and waited until morning. Then I’d tear apart my room, excessively vacuum, sweep, pour rubbing alcohol down all before I told my mom they were still there (my mom actually caught me tearing apart my bed frame to try and pour rubbing alcohol on it) and I just?? Broke the fuck down. Really badly. My mom bought heaters and we’ve rid ourselves of that problem luckily, but it absolutely?? Tore me the fuck apart, and that’s something I’ve developed rather than always felt.

Dirt under my nails (or anything) drives me nuts

Certain sounds or feelings make me grit and grind my teeth they feel awful

Textures in food fuck me up. Like any sort of seasoning that doesn’t dissolve besides pepper fucks me the fuck up when I’m trying to eat. I can’t swallow it. It isn’t like it doesn’t taste good, I can’t swallow it if the texture isn’t right.

Textures also fuck me up in terms of weird ass shit like my tomatoes have to be an exact firmness that’s consistent for the whole tomato or I won’t fucking touch it.

Intrusive thoughts and nightmares. They’re fucking bad. They’re really fucking bad and I can spend so long obsessing over them. Other times I have nightmares that I’m just so desensitized to that I don’t even react. Some of them I genuinely don’t think I could even say out loud because they were that terrifying and sickening.

If I touch raw meat, I wash my hands so many times. I actually once tried to keep count, and I washed my hands 7 times in the span of 10 minutes (and that’s what I could keep track of).

If anything touches anything that may have touched raw meat, it has to be cleaned twice, and I have to wash my hands. For example, if spill a little flour on the counter while making fried chicken, I have to wipe down the counter once to get off the flour, a second time with an anti bacterial cleaner (usually I do this more than once though). If a knife might have touched the bag that held a marinade (despite not getting the marinade on it) it has to be washed twice. I wash all dishes that involved raw meat twice.

Usually I don’t freak out about things that aren’t cleaned until I really notice them. My anxiety spikes while I clean, so while I’m wiping down the stovetop, I notice some grime on the handle bars, then I notice it at the edges of the oven, then I realize the whole front hasn’t been cleaned, and next thing I know I’ve been cleaning the stove for two hours and I can’t stop cleaning other things in the kitchen, constantly telling myself “it’s just this and this... and this... and that... and this...” and it drives me nuts if I get sent to bed before I can finish.

I’ve literally?? Started crying because my sister put something in some spot in the fridge and I was like “why would you put that there” and she was like “idk if you don’t like it do it yourself” and really I didn’t so I just started recognizing the fridge.

Yesterday: I drank out of a water bottle, not sure if it was mine or not, I glanced it and honestly I have no clue if it was air bubbles or backwash, but I immediately start gagging. So I go brush my teeth (with way too much toothpaste, and way too rough) and then rinse my mouth out 5 times, then go back out, get a new water bottle and rinse out my mouth until I am certain (you know how saliva is like more slimy than water??) that I only have water in my mouth. As if ANY OF THIS affects that I already drank the damn water.

Another weird thing I did recently: my cousin was doing my makeup, and she was using this homemade (as in like one of those DIY makeup kits) lipstick except she mentioned she had put the coloring from a nail polish in it and she got a little on my teeth. I couldn’t swallow my spit for about an hour, constantly spitting into the trash, and she had suggested maybe I just get a cup to spit into (the kid is a genius). It was a kid’s makeup kit!!! There’s nothing harmful in that shit!!! Anyway I ended up brushing my teeth several times and then forcing myself to swallow after rinsing out my mouth several times.

Sometimes people’s existence??? Just bothers the fuck out of me. Like my brother will be standing in the kitchen when I’m doing dishes, a few feet away and doing nothing, and his mere existence is just enough to piss me off. I just don’t think that’s normal???

After I wash the dishes, I have to wash my hands. Like my hands were just in soapy water?? Is there a point??

Despite all of this, I can’t keep my room clean for shit, but I know my makeup has to be organized in a specific way.

I get paranoid as shit that I’m going to hurt people, or that people will hurt themselves around me. Like there will be a knife somewhere near by and my brain will deadass think it’s going to drop and cut someone, so I MUST shove it back even though it wasn’t on the edge.

I once cried?? Because someone sent me a picture of a cup teetering on the edge of a table and god fuck??? I couldn’t stop?? It was so ridiculous???

I can’t write using pencils without a perfectly flat surface. I mean like textbook top kind of thing. Or if I’m drawing, I can use a mechanical one. But otherwise?? If I’m writing on top of wood?? Or desks that are made of that granite shit with the littlest texture differences?? No I can’t I have to write in pen and I’ve gotten in trouble from teachers for this

I don’t know. There’s more I’m sure. But like?? Can anyone with OCD or who shows a lot of these symptoms actually tell me if this is normal or if this is smth that’s actually not okay up with me? Cause idk it really fucks me up not knowing because I feel like there HAS to be an explanation???

#ocd #tw bugs #tw intrusive thoughts #mental illness

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lostinaseaoffictionalbliss · 5 years ago

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Bark At The Moon Part 4

A/N: My taglist for this is open as well as my forever tags. However I warn you guys I’m no longer writing smut (it’s a personal decision) and I’m currently working on an original book so Idk how much writing I’ll get done in the future

Pairing: werewolf!Sam x OC

Word Count: 1431

Warnings: this is for the story over all and not any specific chapter. Language, violence, attempted rape, torture, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) marking (not ABO even though Sam is an Alpha) but I’ll will tag the chapters appropriately.

Nola walked around the hotel room and checked everything out. While she had no intentions of having sex with Sam tonight she still wanted the room to be perfect. This was their first date and one of the most important in any relationship. She wanted everything to be just right.

Dinner had already been ordered. Normally she would have went with a couple of burgers, but looking at Sam something told her that he was more into health foods than he was into junk. Because of that she had ordered them a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, Tuscan chicken, and a nice Caesar salad. The table in the center of the room was set up with a couple of candles and a small vase of Lilies.

The room had a dimmer switch and she had turned the lights down low, but made sure they had enough light to see by. She had also set up a small diffuser with lavender and cedar oil. She loved the smell of the two together and it also helped to calm her nerves.

As much as she had told herself there was nothing to worry about she couldn’t help herself. Sam was gorgeous. An absolute god if there ever was one. He was also the Alpha of his pack. He exuded that power and confidence without even trying. It made her feel things she never had before and that alone was enough to make her anxious.

And when Sam knocked on the door ten minutes before he was supposed to arrive it made her jump. She opened the door and took him in. The tall werewolf was wearing dark wash jeans, a dark red Henley and a red and white flannel over top. It was enough to make her mouth water and her panties wet. Despite telling herself sex wasn’t on the table tonight her body couldn’t help reacting to him.

Sam smirked as he took her in. He loved the white vintage dress with its red floral pattern. It hugged all the right places; looking classy and sexy at the same time. His eyes darkened the moment he smelled her arousal and he had to remind himself that this was a first date; he didn’t need to be acting all macho Alpha werewolf right now. They were supposed to be getting to know one another. He couldn’t do that if all he was thinking about was sex.

“You look stunning,” he said softly as he stepped into the room. His presence along with his scent seemed to fill it up without any real effort on his part.

“Thank you. You look extremely handsome yourself. I already ordered dinner for us. I hope that’s okay?” Nola gazed up at him, licking her lips.

He pulled her chair out for her. “It’s fine. I’m sure whatever you ordered will be perfect.”

“Tuscan chicken.” She took her seat and not for the first time she was struck by how beautiful Sam’s eyes were as she gazed into them. They were a kaleidoscope of color and she could drown in it.

“That’s perfect. I love chicken. I’m glad you didn’t order burgers. Not that I mind people eating them and even I will from time to time, but it’s very rare.”

She laughed softly. “I like my bacon cheeseburgers from time to time, but I wanted something healthier and a little less fast-food jointy. I also got the vibe that this was more up your alley.” She poured them both a glass of wine. “I hope white wine is okay.”

“I’ll be honest, I don’t know much about wine. Normally we drink beer or whisky. I can’t remember ever having wine.” He took a sip and his brows shot up. “That’s actually really good.” He liked the zesty lime flavor with hints of oak the moment the dry wine touched his tongue. It was new, but certainly not an unwelcome taste.

She beamed. “White wine goes well with chicken, but if you eat darker meats then red wine goes better. I’m glad you like it.”

“I do. How did you learn so much about wine and pairing it with food?” He took a bite of his salad, gazing at her.

“I’ve been working here since I finished college. I’m not the boss, but I’m top of the tier. Everyone comes to me and I give out the orders. The only one above me is the owner. Which means I get stuck doing all the paperwork and making sure things are in order.”

“That’s really cool. Do you like working here?”

“Yeah. I do. I love my job. It’s tiring, but I get to meet so many people and really it’s a fun job. Especially when planning events.”

His eyes sparkled with mirth as he watched her. While he continued eating his dinner it was clear she was his main focus. He watched the way her hands moved as she spoke. The way she politely took bites of her food and made sure to keep her mouth closed as she chewed. He loved the way her eyes lit up as she spoke of the things she enjoyed. Most of all he loved the fact she was so at ease in his presence. It wasn’t often that people relaxed around him. He was a large man, intimidating size wise, and the fact he was a werewolf gave him that allure of darkness. Most found that a good reason to stay on alert. Not Nola though. That made his heart skip a beat and gave him hope.

Nola watched Sam as she ate. Their conversation stayed light throughout dinner and she felt completely comfortable with him. His large size didn’t intimidate her, nor did him being a wolf bother her. Her eyes watched his long thick fingers curl around his wine glass and she imagined how they would feel holding her hips, cupping her breasts, sliding into her warm heat to bring her pleasure. Nothing about Sam Winchester made her nervous. His very presence did many things to her, but eliciting fear was not one of them.

She covered up her plate once she was finished. “That was good. Tonight has been really good so far. I’ve enjoyed your company and talking to you. Getting to know you better.”

Sam took another sip of wine and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve enjoyed tonight too. It’s nice to have someone feel comfortable with me and what I am. I think it’s a good sign for our relationship.”

“I think so too. I really like you, Sam. More than I think I’ve ever liked anyone else. And it’s not just because you’re drop dead gorgeous. You’re sweet and kind. You’re sassy and kinda funny too. You make me feel safe, but you also awaken a lot of other feelings. Feelings that I hope to explore in the near future.”

Sam’s eyes darkened, the hazel iris almost disappearing completely. “I know the feelings I awaken in you. I could smell it yesterday and I could smell it the moment you opened that door.”

“Even over my lotion and the diffuser?” Her cheeks were flushed and she was squirming in her seat. She hadn’t had a clue that the slick gathering in her panties had a strong enough smell for him to pick up on.

“Even over all that, but we aren’t there yet. As much as I want to pick you up, pin you to that bed, and rut you with abandon I won’t.”

She whimpered softly at the imagery. “I wouldn’t say no if you did.”

“I know, but when I take you, claim you as mine...I want it to be because you came to me and asked for it. Not because I let the animal in me take over. You deserve better than that.”

She stood and walked over to his side of the table. “That right there,” she said softly, “is why I trust you and feel comfortable with you.” She leaned in and kissed him. He could easily take her and she would be powerless to stop him; both physically and mentally as he had that hold over her. Yet here he was saying he wanted it to be her choice. It made her like him just that much more.

Sam’s large hands cradled her face as he returned the kiss. “Does this mean you’ll meet my pack? I want them to get to know you too.”

“Yeah. I’ll meet your pack.” She knew his pack was his family and it was important to him that they get along.

****

Likes don’t spread my work! Please reblog and leave a comment if you enjoyed this! I love hearing from you guys and knowing what you think and hope to see!

#Sam Winchester #Sam Winchester fics #Sam Winchester x OC #werewolf!sam x oc #werewolf!sam winchester #werewolf!sam winchester x oc #Supernatural #Supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfics #supernatural fandom #supernatural au #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfics #son fandom #spn au #werewolf au #bark at the moon

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lovemesomesurveys · 5 years ago

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What is your favorite time of the day? Whenever I have my first cup of coffee and I read the devotional for that day. When was the last time you had pizza? A couple days ago. Are you close with your mother? Yes, very. She’s my rock. She’s why I’m still here. Do you have a short fuse? I get very irritated and frustrated quite easily. Somedays I’m just extra everything---extra moody, extra irritated, extra frustrated--and it can be anything little thing or everything that gets to me. I can be snippy and short, too. :/ I catch myself and I’m like, damn you need to chill. Have you ever blown a breaker? No.

What is your favorite cereal? Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Fruity Pebbles, Life, Cap’N Crunch Berries, Honey Nut Cheerios, and Frosted Cheerios are among the top, but I really just love most of the sugary cereals ha. Is there a certain place that you go when you’re upset? My bed. Name a new friend you’ve made this year. I haven’t made any. It’s only January, but I don’t see that changing at all, honestly. Honestly, do you check the caller i.d. to see who’s called you? I always check to see who’s calling first. Do you wear your seatbelt in the car? ALWAYS. Please wear your seat belts. Have you ever known anyone that’s gone missing? Yes. A few years ago my family and I had a big scare when one of my cousins went missing for almost a week. Do you put your foundation on with a sponge or your hand? I always used a sponge. I haven’t worn foundation in quite awhile, though. Or any makeup for that matter. What was the last thing you ate? Ramen. What game is in your game system right now? I have a Nintendo Switch with Luigi’s Mansion 3 in it. What color are your toe nails? They’re not painted. I never paint my toenails. The 2nd to last person you texted, how did you meet them? She’s my cousin. Do you miss a lot of school? I’m done with school, thank goodness. Do you have to pee often? Often enough *shrug* Do you live near a pet store? It’s like a 10 minute drive away. Do you ever watch The Bad Girls Club? Nope. I never got into that.

Who was the last person other than family to tell you that they love you? That’s it. Do you ever play those games on the myspace ads? Myspace ads? You just aged yourself. I don’t remember games on the ads? Have you ever been told that you resemble an animal or insect? No. How many people have you kissed in the last month? Zero. Do you know anyone who writes really well? Yeah. Least favorite food? I eat chicken a lot, and I like turkey sandwiches, but apart from that I don’t eat a lot of meat. I’m very picky about what meat I like and how it’s prepared. Like, I like meatballs (which has beef), but I don’t like steak and I’m not a big burger fan. I like chicken wings, but only the boneless kind. I don’t like chicken on the bone, fried chicken, or rotisserie chicken. I like spiral hams, ya know like the kind you eat for the holidays, but not deli ham and most definitely NOT Canadian bacon. Oh, I don’t like bacon either. Lmao. Do you get big headed easily? Nooo. I don’t think highly of myself at all, ha. Can you play any instrument really well? Nope. I can’t play. I regret not keeping up with the piano. :( I wish I had taken it more seriously. Are there any foods that you loved when you were little, but hate now? Hmm. I can’t think of any that I hate now. Probably just not as into anymore. What is your zodiac sign? Leo. What was the last picture you uploaded? New Facebook profile pic. Do you prefer chocolate candy, or fruity candy? Chocolate candy. Is your about me long and detailed, or short and to the point? Very short and to the point. What is your favorite type of cola? When you say cola here, I’m guessing you’re referring to soda in general? It’s soda where I live and cola is a specific type, like Coca Cola aka Coke. The generic brands for Coke are called Cola. Anyway, I like Coke and Dr. Pepper. I honestly don’t drink soda anymore; though, apart from the bit I have when I take my medicine (I have to crush my pills and soda is the only thing I can mix and take it with). It’s so weird cause prior to 2 years ago, I was a big soda drinker. Who did you spend your last birthday with? My parents and younger brother. Does it bug you when people spell color “colour”? No? That’s the correct way to spell it in like Canada and the UK. Do you actually pay attention to how many profile views you have? It doesn’t show that on here, but nah I wouldn’t care anyway. What flavor was the milkshake you had last? I feel like it was banana, but it may have been strawberry. It’s been awhile since I’ve had a milkshake. It’s not something I had a lot anyway, but I did enjoy a strawberry or banana milkshake now and then. Where is the nearest place that sells smoothies? There’s a smoothie place nearby. What kind of body wash or soap do you use? Caress body soap.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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homosapiensapiens · 5 years ago

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Preparing for an Eco-Friendly Thanksgiving...

It is Thanksgiving time in Canada! A notoriously wonderful occasion for spending some time with family to celebrate fall, and give yourself a gnarly food coma. It is also notorious for its carbon footprint (amount of greenhouse gases, specifically carbon dioxide, emitted by something - such as a person's activities or a product's manufacture and transport - during a given period)!

As of 2011, approximately 42 million turkeys are consumed during American Thanksgiving, which produces 500 940 000 pounds of CO2. Out of all of that turkey, only about half of it really gets eaten, throwing away up to $282 000 000 worth of uneaten turkey into the compost (or garbage really as most of the United States does not have a compost service). The food waste from turkey alone is enough to supply the entire population of New York City with food for nearly 100 days...

Thanksgiving Travel is a whole other story. Air travel during Thanksgiving produces an average of 800 million pounds of CO2 every holiday. Car travel is far worse, with a staggering average of 10.8 BILLION pounds of CO2 being emitted during Thanksgiving.

Needless to say, we have a long way to go when it comes to reducing our carbon footprint during thanksgiving. Here are some ways you can help do your part and make your thanksgiving a little more eco-friendly. Good luck, and thank you! :)

1. Consider Trying Plant-Based!

I know nobody wants to hear it, and how could you possibly have a Thanksgiving feast without a turkey?! The fact of the matter is, the amount of meat we consume is way out of hand and is heavily impacting the climate crisis. Maybe you skip the turkey (if you need the turkey, try to find one locally, or get a free-range one...it is way better for your body) and go with chicken instead. Maybe you have some side dishes that use meat? Here is a link to a website with over 80 different vegetarian ideas for thanksgiving. If you’re not feeling any of those, here’s an extra 30. I promise not all vegan/vegetarian food tastes like wet cardboard. You may be surprised :)

2. Buy Local.

This is such an easy way to make your Thanksgiving a little more eco-friendly. Not only are you reducing your carbon footprint by buying food that hasn't been transported, but you are helping your community! When you buy local food, you help to provide more jobs in your community through small local farmers and businesses and keeping the local economy healthy. Additionally, meats and produce bought locally are typically fresher and healthier for you than the food you buy at the supermarket. When you are shopping, don’t forget to bring reusable bags, and look for things with compostable or recyclable packaging! Also, check out bulk stores! You can bring your own containers, saving packaging, saving money, and saving food waste.

3. Use Real Plates & Cutlery.

While it may be easier to just chuck everything in the bin, instead of having to wash dishes, using disposables adds up to a crazy amount of unnecessary waste...just wash your dishes...This is one of the times where you celebrate with family! Break out the nice cutlery and go nuts for once! Leave the plastic cutlery, paper plates and napkins in the past! It looks way nicer to set your table properly with the good stuff. Also, please...for the love of God...don’t buy bottled water... I promise this will save you a few extra bucks and your wallet will thank you.

4. Never Forget About Compost!

22% of the trash in our landfills comes from food. This food cannot break down and decompose; instead, it just rots and produces methane (a greenhouse gas). Food waste is huge during Thanksgiving, make sure it at least goes to the proper place! I would also recommend putting a recycling bin in a visible place to try to encourage everyone to use it if they have anything recyclable (like pop cans or something).

5. Natural Decorations.

Instead of spending a ridiculous amount of money on plastic decor that will just get thrown into a landfill, make your own decorations completely for free! In my opinion, fall is the most visually stunning season. Why wouldn’t you want to decorate your home with crazy colours from outside? Leaves, pumpkins, gourds, acorns, pinecones and cool branches have always been a staple during Thanksgiving at my house. Honestly just go outside, find some cool stuff and throw it in the middle of the table. Put things in jars, around candles, hanging from strings, throw some pumpkins around, I don't know, there are endless possibilities! Here is a Pinterest link to give you some inspiration.

6. Preparing Proportions.

Once again talking about food waste here. One of the easiest ways to avoid food waste is to really plan. Think about how many people are coming, who likes what, how much can everyone realistically eat? If you kind of suck at this, don't worry about it. Not everyone has the skill. I did some research and found two pretty decent food planning calculators. Although the typical food guide for one person is 1 pound of turkey, ¼ pound of stuffing, ¼ pound of sweet potato casserole/mashed potatoes, ¼ pound veggies, 3 tablespoons of cranberry sauce, and 1/8 of a 9 inch pie.

7. Storing Leftovers.

Try to use reusable containers to store your leftovers! Saves you money from buying disposable bags, plastic wrap, tin foil etc... Ask your guests if they would like to take any leftovers home!

Feel free to send me a message if you have any questions! Ask box is always open :) Happy Thanksgiving!

#thanksgiving #ecofriendly #sustainability #sustainability tips #environmentalism #environmentalist #climate change #climate crisis #stop climate change #earth #love the earth #eco friendly

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littlelostbluejay · 6 years ago

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Dinner In The Wolf’s Den I/3

*This is already posted on my wattpad account*

Part 1 2 3

Oneshot summary: Lucas is on his way home from the club with food on his mind, but it may be something out of the ordinary for Cristi to consider appetizing.

Rating: 18+ (Gets semi-explict at the end)

Scenery of the metropolitan city flew past the windows of his pickup truck, the gorgeous artificial lights that partially vanquishes the periodic presence of total darkness nightfall provides once the sun descends beyond a line where the skies and earth meets, paves a way for this unearthly inhabitant of an urban center as he drove on the road on his way home.

A while ago, Lucas departed from the energetic venue of a club he visits frequently, pleased by the execution of his performance where little error was found when he supplied his melodic skills into harmony with his live band. Since it was a Friday night in New York City, the establishment was packed with plentiful of people who mingled on the dance floor throughout the night, mainly ones whose visage appeared to belong in the middle age group where a few still held onto their groove they managed to keep since early youth, and many who seemed to fit the visual standards of above twenty-one years. But anyone below that age requirement was denied access into the building, unless there was family involved – the locale's sole purpose was to entertain a specific mature crowd, and the owner did a splendid job at upholding the old fashion décor of the interior that complemented the classic soulful vibe of RnB, Blues, Jazz, and Funky melodies where a few bands performs on stage every week from the amount of people who arrived.

Lucas blew the saxophone, or whom he'd affectionately address the brass instrument by name as his favored 'Dandelion', for about two hours since the beginning of their live performance at seven o clock that night, whilst his associate, a black man who go by a jazz nickname, Bebop, sang out a couple of songs to the lively audience. Lucas and Bebop were the only two singers in their group while the other band mates were only capable of fiddling with instruments, but whereas Bebops's abilities were only limited to singing, Lucas's talents were distinctive in comparison because he could play instruments and sing till his heart's content. And that's exactly what he did later on when Bebop switched spots with him after a short intermission passed, allows the 'Wolf' an opportunity to shine under the spotlight where he offered passionate howls into the mic.

The experience on the platform with the mic against his lips always incited a spike of adrenaline to course through his veins, and that integrated with the high energy which the crowd suffused in waves within the building he absorbed to fuel his stamina, he receives a sensational high off from exerting his vocal capabilities to their limit, putting on a show that keeps the extra cash flowing from people who comes every week. It was a strenuous activity that wasn't for the faint of heart but one he found pleasurable delight in, enjoyed it to the fullest that enabled him to give his all in each gig, and the thought of hitting the hay anytime soon was never considered.

One hand loosely griped the steering wheel, revolving it at a 90-degree angle as he rounded a corner, his head lightly bobbing to the stream of music from the radio on an RnB station as his vehicle neared close to his destination, and on occasion does his eyes take mild interest of the city lights and large buildings he drove by. His other hand hangs out the open window where fresh air blew across his face that offered a sense of fresh relief from the perspiration that lined his forehead. Singing always worked up quite a sweat from the amount of physical effort he put into it, and hunger was definitely a feeling he needed to satisfy after the end of every show. As late as it was, he assumed his wife would have dinner hot and ready for him once he got back home, as if food may redeem herself for not accompanying him, she usually prepared a delicious meal for him if she wasn't going to one of his gigs, not that he didn't complain because she was such a huge supporter to his craft. But Lucas knew huge crowds wasn't her type of scene, but he, nonetheless, appreciated her efforts when she attended his gigs with him.

Once he gently hit the brakes to a complete stop at a red light, he dug his hand into his pants pocket to pull out his cell phone, the pad of his thumb lightly tapping against the screen before he held it to his ear. His fingers drums on the wheel to the beat of the music as the dial rung a few times before the person picks up.

"Hi, honey." A soft note carries over from the other line, gently caresses his ear as the music fades away in the background.

The corner of Lucas's mouth quirks at the sound his wife's voice. "Aye puppy, I'm on my way home, should be there in about -" he pauses to quickly glance at the time, "- I'd say fifteen minutes tops depending on traffic, but it's goin' along smoothly soo far."

"Alright, I'll jus be waiting here doing whatever." He heard her give a tired sigh. "How was the show tonight though? Did a lot of people come?"

"Oh yea, me an the cats blew up the joint. It was the same ole same ole like every week, people throwin' a lot of their bread at us ta pick up off the ground, y'know how it is baybeh, enough for us ta paint this town." He responds in terms considered old-fashioned, outdated for this modern time period he now lived in, unless you were a true bred jazz musician.

"That's good baby, and jus so you'll know I took Butterscotch out on a walk a little earlier." His eyebrows furrowed at this piece of intel she shared with him.

"How early we talkin?"

There was a short pause on the other end of the line before she replies. "Sometime around nine." His eyes roll and presses his foot down on the gas pedal that sets his truck into motion when the light transitioned to a green light.

"Cristi, y'know how I feel 'bout you walkin 'round alone at night, especially when I'm not home." Though he chides her on a soft timbre, hints of annoyance were evident in his voice as Lucas was quick to express his displeasure in her decision making. He was never too fond of her strolling about these streets at night even though she's been doing it for a long time. "Look, these horny dogs out here will snatch up a pretty young thang like you one day then I'll have ta go out and sniff ya out, lookin' ta draw some unfortunate fool's blood for messin' with my lady."

"I know but... I was bored and she was restless so I jus took her out to drain her energy, plus she needed to pee anyway." He heard shuffling on her end. "Are you upset with me?"

Between full lips does he issue a drawled-out sigh at the slight fear in her voice. "Naw, I wouldn't get mad over somethin' lil like that. I'm jus being paranoid for good reason since I literally jus made you my mate, an I emphasize the word 'Mate'. It would kill me if somethin' bad happened to you, ya dig wha' I'm sayin, baby?" Cristi wasn't necessarily great at rejecting a stranger's advances who showed interest in her, which made her an easy target for males to take advantage of her due to her lack of self-confidence, and this insight about her worried him sometimes. She was too...nice. "Aye, at least you were honest with me... I appreciate that." But one thing Lucas loved about her was her veracity, she didn't have to share certain things with him but she did.

"Yea, I'm sorry though."

"Hey, this isn't somethin' ta trip over with an apology, it's pass us now, jus watch yer tail when ya go out, a'write? I know my Butterscotch will protect you, that pup packs quite a powerful bite." He licks his lips and decides to flip the subject. "I'm 'bout to let ya go, love, I'll be pullin' up in a few minutes...jus wanted ta see how ma baybeh was doin."

He listens to her chuckle over the phone. "Ahahaha you're so sweet, honey...I got dinner ready for you by the way."

At the mere mention of food, his stomach gurgles, and couldn't help but grin to himself. "Good lawd, that's music to my ears ya have no idea! I'm soo hungry I could devour a whole buffalo in one single bite, no wait, a whole buffalo an a side of beaver tail as an appetizer with a tubful full of rain water ta wash all that shit down." They both share a laugh as Lucas seemingly goes back to his wild roots when the woods were the only home he ever knew. "Now tha' I think about it, why do they call tha' dish Buffalo Wings? Those are chicken wings, buffalo don't have wings, chicken and buffalo have no correlation to the other whatsoever...I mean, I know it was first created in Buffalo, New York in the 1960's but ya get the idea." He rambled on.

"You're soo crazy."

"Yea?" a small upturn of his lips bears a thoughtful grin as he literally sees her shaking her head at him, "but ya the one crazy for gettin' with a wild man like me dawlin', makin me feel special gurl cause ya chose a dire wolf instead of gettin' with a human, y'know what's up." He teases her lightly. "But listen, one of these days we gonna head up north an I'm gonna cook up somethangs for ya ta try out, taste some high-quality meat I use ta feed on without all em hormones an steroids an shit that America is known for."

"Ohhh! I would love that! We need to talk more about planning a trip soon!" She said with excitement at the very thought of a road trip.

"Yea we will, I got you baby; I got sum wild adventures in store for us so ya can experience a part of my natural world. But I'm 'bout ta go now, love... I'd rather speak ta ya in person so I can see ya beautiful face an talk at the same time."

"Okay, um I'll see you till then, Luke. Bye, love you."

"Love you... see ya in a few, babe." He waits for the click on the receiving end before ending the call, tossing his phone onto the passenger seat as black eyes fixates on the road that led straight towards home.

Lucas pulled up on the curve and shifts his gear into park after he managed to find a space for his automobile outside his building. He stared upward at the grey ceiling of his truck, the back of his head resting against the headrest, not yet ready to exit out the car door as he mulls over his thoughts that suddenly aroused confliction within himself.

During the time on his way home once he got off the phone, an intense desire for something growled in the pit of his stomach – there was no doubt he was hungry, yes, and he anticipated what his wife had in store for him upstairs, but the issue lies in craving raw flesh... fresh, untainted blood actively pumping through the veins of a live creature that was born in the bosom of nature. It was an instinctive pulse of hunger that proved difficult to quell when such desires, brought on by the spirit of his inner wolf, overwhelmed his sense of reasoning and intellectual perception he sought hard to exercise while in the company of humans. Lucas can endure through cravings for a taste of blood for a while until the wolf got what it wanted, what he wanted, what 'Lusio' wanted, no matter how much amount of effort he applied in restraining carnivorous beastly urges that was a part of his nature.

But it seems like tonight would be one of those occurrences the wolf indulges in one of its many animalistic covets for a short while.

And with this impulsive idea in mind as he sighs in defeat, a grunt left his lips when he leans over to open the small compartment and grabs one of the plastic bags he stored inside for situations like this. Lucas leaves the vehicle before sweeping his hands down his white dress shirt to rid of any wrinkles, deciding to keep his saxophone case and suit jacket inside until he finishes his little hunt. Dark eyes like starry nights above scans his surroundings first, takes note that despite being close to twelve am, how the night was still alive where cars headlights lit up the streets, utilizes his keen hearing abilities for any voices nearby that'll keep him alert in case someone happens to stumble upon him unexpectedly. Someone could always be watching, he had no room for mistakes - to be extra cautious of his environment while living in the city was a necessity to preserve his secret.

Lucas stands tall as he directs his nose upward to the sky for the breeze to drift up his nostrils, sniffs the air in concentration where a multitude of different scents he can distinguish one from the other filling his powerful lungs with each strong swift inhale, and immediately, he catches a fine scent of a furry critter three blocks down from him. It was one of his favorites. Wolfish characteristics emerges in a subtle manner when his tongue laps over his plump lips, licking his chops as saliva accumulated in his mouth at the thought of eating it as a second dinner later that night. He turns on his heel before feet picks up a brisk gait along the sidewalk, heads off in the direction where the scent left a trail in the wind for him to follow.

Lucas twists the doorknob to the entrance of his apartment, the hinge issuing a light squeaking sound as he opened it all the way before crossing through the threshold towards the living room. "Honey, I'm home!" In a loud voice Lucas announces his presence to the inhabitants of his abode, his nose being met with the relaxing scent of burning incense that a while ago had dispersed into the air blended with the delicious aroma of onions and garlic that also integrated itself into the mix.

Upon his annunciation as he shut the door close, Butterscotch lifted her head from between her white paws in interest at her owner's arrival, the adult Pitbull eyes closing when he pets her head in a greeting fashion with a smile before his hand moves down to the little brown bunny, BunBun, to stroke her tiny head in the same manner who laid snuggled up next to the canine inside the dog bed. They had a few pets to care for, a dog, rabbit, and a bird who was now probably asleep since her cage was currently covered by a thin sheet. Lucas also have a raven as a companion who is usually close by somewhere outside.

Lucas props his instrument against the wall next to his piano keyboard, placing his car keys on a side table and tossing his suit jacket onto the sofa. He peeks down into the plastic bag where he stuffed a dead animal inside a while ago, a possum whose fate made an unfortunate turn in its short life when it was caught between Lucas's jaws, and he couldn't wait to eat the creature as a snack. The plastic crumples when he closes the bag, his fingers hooking around the handle as he walks into the kitchen before he stops in his tracks under the archway. His pupils dilate as they grow enamored where they took in the lovely sight of his beautiful wife in front of the stove with a plate in hand as she busily fills it with food. "I'm home, baybeh." He repeats from his position in the doorway, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth as obsidian eyes make an eager rove about her nightwear, mainly consist of a white tank top and low-rise black lace panties, its sheer intricate flower design elegantly hugging the round shape of her backside, barely covers her toned butt cheeks - she earned from squats - left on display in his view for him to admire when he so pleased.

Damn was he a blessed man that mother nature molded her just for him as a gift; he wished he could thank her parents for making an exquisite woman, god bless their souls. Lucas might be a dire wolf, but he still possessed a male mindset who was amorously affected by the physical appearance of a curvaceous woman like any other common man. Only his mate, however, held this type of power over him.

"Yeah, I heard..." she glances over her shoulder, meeting his eyes that grazed over her figure without no hint of embarrassment that she caught him in the act of staring. But she becomes bashful by the way those obsidian eyes observe her with a carnal aspect within his gaze upon what's rightfully his, and such intensity and focus never fails to make her shy away from his lustful stare. "...Sounding like one of those husbands who just got home on tv when shows were still black & white without color." Cristi conceals her timidity with a tease about his use of old phrases, a small smirk on her lips as she turns her attention back to preparing the plate.

Her comment blinked him out of the enchantment she casts upon him, in which a chuckle bubbles up his throat as he then quickly walked over to the refrigerator before rearranging items on the lowest shelf within to make room for the corpse he shoved into the back of the fridge, hiding it before she could notice. "Yea, well, don' think ya realize it yet, sweetheart, but I was actually born in the 1920's, so that black & white time is still a part of me. Can't shake my fur of it y'know?" Lucas shuts the fridge with a soft thud, and after he takes a moment to ogle her behind once more, he approaches her from behind and presses his front against her back, his muscular arms circling around her waist in a warm embrace. Her body relaxes into his hold as he lowers his head to sniff her tresses - they were separated in twists as part of her natural hair care regimen, the sweet scent of vanilla lavender imbedded between each coiled strand, and his eyes flutter shut as he emits a deep hum at the pleasant scent of her hair. He snoops down over her shoulder at the meal she prepared for dinner. "Well somethin' smells good and looks tasty too." His remark held praise as he examines the scrumptious view of pork-chops with a contribution of fresh, sliced mushrooms added to the recipe, green beans and mashed potatoes in their own separate pots as side dishes, but once his gaze falls on her platter, his eyes widen at how much food she was still pilling on it. "Damn, you gonna eat all'a that baby gurl?"

The ridiculous question makes her grant a breathy scoff in amusement. "Y'know I can't eat all this. This is for you, baby, I don't got a bottomless stomach like you do." She answers in a matter a fact tone that ends in a small laugh, turning her head at an angle to peer up at him before her eyes closes briefly when she felt his soft lips plant a kiss between her eyes.

"There was no need ta make my plate, love. The least I could do was make my own since ya took the time to make dinner for us." His hands rose up in front of her, abruptly catches her off guard as he lifts the plate full of food out of her hands and up over her head with ease due to his height, and sets the dish on the kitchen table before grabbing a clean plate from the dish rack. "Go sit down an rest while I return the favor by makin' yer plate then since ya made mine." It was a gentle command he imposed upon her, but a layer of dominance laid flat beneath the words he uttered.

Lucas appreciated her need to cater to him anyway she was able, but there were times he thought many of the things she did for him was unnecessary, believes that he, instead, should do everything for the both of them as the alpha of the household because the well-known trait expected of an excellent alpha was they took care of the needs of their family pack. But it should be mentioned that another reason stems from the fact that he was used to independence. For decades, Lucas did everything on his own without much help from anybody, he wasn't accustomed to anyone caring for him the way Cristi had; the last person he could think of that gave a semblance of this much love and attention was his wolf mother, although this particular scenario was obviously different because romantic feelings are involved. Nonetheless, he was grateful for the love Cristi has shown in her own special ways, sometimes even when he tells her not to. But it was the thought that counts.

"You're not tired, Luke?" The question fell softly from parted lips as she peers up at him with big doe-eyes that held a pinch of concern, ignores his command for a moment due to being curious about his well-being because he was gone for most of the day; she wasn't sure if he ever had the chance to really rest earlier while he was out and about.

One eye squints while his mouth twists to the side as he thought over her query, only to offer a casual shrug of his shoulders before his free hand gently pushed her aside from blocking the stove. "I'm a'ight, jus a lil bit but it's nothin' ta be concerned about, pumpkin. But y'know me, I don' tire out that easily so don' worry y'self." He assays to soothe Cristi's sensitivity over his welfare, not wanting her to concern herself with his health – he could empathize somewhat with her anxious thoughts because he was a busy man, he did a lot for the both of them. But his assurance proved little to tranquilize her worries for out of the corner of his eye he notices she still stood next to him, so as a motivator to help her listen, he sent a wide-open slap against her butt, startling her with a surprised yelp at the stinging sensation of his strike on her behind. "Go on baybeh get! I got you, stop all tha' worryin' an let me fix my lady's plate." Although he attempted to sound serious, there was laughter hinted in his tone, onyx eyes full of mischief and wanton desire as they followed the hypnotizing motion of her ass bouncing between each hurried step, his wet tongue running across his bottom lip as he watched her rush to the table and sit down like a good girl.

Submissive tendencies of her character were influenced by her upbringing in her youth where obedience was essential to the unfair circumstances she had no control over, which made her easily inclined to act on what Lucas asked of her in general, even the smallest things, for the most part. And as for Lucas, well, he enjoyed the power and sense of authority he had over her to a certain degree, it demonstrated something akin to a predator and prey dynamic between them, especially in the bedroom. But despite his knowledge of her past, he never once exploited her docile characteristics for his own selfish gain, rather, all of what he told her to do was always for her own benefit and interest.

From a short distance away, Cristi chews on her inner cheek in silence while observing him as he gathers food on her plate, brown hues inspecting his attire with his back turned towards her. Lucas looked devilishly handsome in a white dress shirt, the hem tucked inside his beige colored slacks that deliciously fitted around the curve of his firm round buttocks, ones she likes to pinch between her fingers in passing, and what complemented the entire getup was black suspenders he wore that forms a 'X' from behind. Chris didn't know many men in his age group who wore suspenders on occasion as Lucas did, the accessory was part of his old soul, debonair fashion sense which she thought gave a spiffy touch to his appearance, and in her opinion, made him look more masculine and attractive than most guys she's seen – definitely daddy material in her book. And a sense of voyeurism takes hold over her conscious when she embeds her top teeth into her bottom lip, her eyes traveling back and forth from his broad shoulders, down to his nice ass and shoulders repeatedly as she imagines his body on top of hers in bed.

"So," she sighs quietly, body leans forward in her seat before a forearm rests atop the other on the table, exhales slow through her nose to try to calm her nerves that laps at her sudden fire of desire for him, "did anything interesting happen at the club today?" Chris liked asking him what goes on about at the club when she couldn't accompany him, the stories he told were always amusing, there was rarely a dull moment among that wild crowded space he loved soo much.

He cocks his head to the left. "Hmmm nothin' really," was his immediate response as he scooped some green beans onto her plate, "oh wait!" his eyes widen when something in his recollections kicks in, and glances over his shoulder at her, "some woman did sum outta pocket shit by throwin' their god forsaken panties on stage durin' my performance! Wild right?!"

"WHAT?!" In disbelief does she burst out laughing, a hand swiftly raising to muffle her mouth to quell down her giggles, not at all expecting him to say that. "Lucas, you're telling me a random person just threw their underwear on stage outta nowhere?!"

A hearty chuckle rumbled his chest with amusement at her reaction before his attention is brought back to the stove in front of him. "I ain't being a card right now, babe. I mean...I didn't know who in the crowd did it but I swore on my life I heard someone amongst the music scream: Oh Wolf ya sang my panties off!" The last portion of his sentence is where he, to the best of his ability, attempts to mimic the woman's voice in a girly tone, which only made Chris's stomach shake with laughter even more as Lucas joined in with her mirth as well.

Her plate now finished, he grabs a few utensils from a drawer before positioning her food on the table along with the silverware, hunching over enough for Chris to take a chance to show her gratitude by kissing the side of his jaw. "Thank you, honey." And he returns the affectionate gesture when he pressed his lips against her cheek, smiling into the side of her face.

"Anything for my queen." He spoke in a mumble where he addresses his fond regard for her before he sat in his seat beside her around the table's corner. His toned forearms were made visible as he rolls the long sleeves of his shirt up till they stop just above his elbows, and immediately, felt one of her legs brush against his underneath the table, moving it between his longer limbs.

"Did you pick them up?" She asks as she scoops up a spoonful of the white potato glob into her mouth.

"What? Them undergarments? Heh, hell to the no." Lucas expounds with a slight grin on his face, knife and fork in both hands as he began slicing his meat with them. "I ain't gonna shorten my lifespan by getting infected with whatevah diseases tha' broad might have swimming up in her pussy." He pauses to take a big bite out of the pork, chewing on the grub while chattering away. "I'm sure if I touched em knickers, the next thing I know I'll be breakin' out in hives an get diagnosed with AIDS or somethin'. They were white an the shit looked dingy anyways, so I let the janitor do me a favor by picking that trash up."

His words prompt a nasal snort through her nose with a shake her head from side to side, head remains low, eyes on her meal as she stuck her spoon into her mouth where a faint smile graced her lips that conveys amusement at her husband's foolishness. "Wooow, that is the funniest thing I heard this week." Chris knew he wouldn't ever think to pick up someone's unclean underwear, but it was fun to at least hear what he would say because she figured she'd get a good laugh out of it.

"Yea?" He arches a thick brow while his tongue wipes across his top row of white teeth to get rid of any remnants of food trapped between them, and the corner of his lips curves ever so slightly. "I gotta few other tales tha's bound ta bring a smile to tha' face, dawlin'." He reaches a hand towards her, caresses the smooth surface of her cheek with the back of his finger that called forth a blush to rise upon her features beneath his stare; it always made him feel good when he could make her laugh, it made him keenly mindful of where her state of mind laid in regards to their relationship - if she was happy, he was happy too.

They went without exchangeable words for a few seconds while dining. Chris consumed small bites, was hardly done with her food in contrast to Lucas who was in the process of gobbling everything down like he hadn't an ounce of sustenance all day. He licked his lips as he looked at what remained left on his platter, which composed of some green beans. Carnivorous instincts were bred into his psyche and it made no surprise that Lucas preferred meat more so than vegetables, but whatever dish Chris prepared for them, veggies or not, it would be disrespectful to not eat what she cooked. "This was a good meal, love." He issued words of praise that exhibits his satisfaction to her cooking skills, his fork pricking the last bit of greens before placing them in his mouth. "Thanks for makin' it an for fixin' my plate."

She gave a slow nod that was accompanied by a closed, modest smile. "Yeah," she shrugs a shoulder as if her accomplishment wasn't nothing, but nonetheless content that he expressed his pleasure in what she cooked, "I tried my best to remember your recipe so..." She said in reference to the garlic butter pork-chops she made by following his special recipe.

"And succeeded." Underneath the table his long legs stretch out far as he reclines back in his seat, muscles seemingly relax where he slouches, eyelids droop half-way as he observes her eat at a slow pace with a warm grin set on his full lips. "This old wolf will make a fine chef outta ya yet, jus ya watch."

"Riight." Her eyes roll in a playful manner as she starts cutting her pork-chop with her knife, a thought crossing her mind from earlier when he first arrived home. "What did you bring home earlier?"

The simple question that falls forth out her mouth causes a rapid blinking of his eyes, feels his heart skip a beat in unspoken surprise as muscles in his shoulders once loose of stress now grew tense from the image that sprang in his mind's eye. The animal carcass he hived away in the back of the fridge! And caught in the moment before he could fully process his thoughts, he decides to resort to playing dumb. "What?"

She swallows her food before speaking again. "Y'know, in that bag you brought with you. You took more than fifteen minutes to come back home, remember?" Cristi utilizes her excellent memory to explain, but she was unaware of where he put it because she was busy over the stove. "Did you pick something up at the store on the way back?"

He lifts a hand for long fingers to rub the shaven surface of his jaw, the cool texture of a few rings that adorns his digits rubbing against his skin, his mouth slightly ajar as his tongue clicks inside his mouth while thoughts race to conjure a plausible statement that wouldn't disclose his secret. "Yeah, uh, I did." His voice titters on the edge of nervousness as he bounces his leg, a characteristic unusual for anybody to witness in the limits of his personality that often demonstrated confidence and sureness of self. "But it's nothin you'll be interested in, jus sum protein for ya man ta be big an strong ta fight off em dirty dogs that be tryin' ta sniff ya tail, y'know how it is, baybeh..." It wasn't a whole lie because meat, no matter if cooked or raw, was still protein in his book. But it was near impossible to slip a lie around his mate; he hoped her empathetic ability to detect untruthful words wasn't operating at this time. He didn't realize she even noticed of the bag.

Lucas never spoke an utterance to her about his vile cravings. Cristi was incognizant of Lucas sneaking dead animals into their apartment at night and feeding on them uncooked, raw chunks of flesh that included the bones as well, and although he's certain she should reckon such wretched behavior to be expectant of his species, he couldn't bring himself to express this part of himself to her in fear of being judged, labeled as disgusting and possibly a savage. But after every feeding he prioritized a sufficient extreme cleansing of his face and mouth to rid of germs and bacteria whereas is not harmful to him, but may be harmful to her body, which was the least he could do.

And to his utter relief, she didn't think too much of his response. "Oh, okay then."

"Wha' about you, Cristi?" He tilts his head to the left, brushes his leg against hers as he straightens his spine before leaning forward in his seat, and quickly switches topics from (the bag) him to her because he never got the chance to ask about how her day went. "Did the city treat my baybeh alright?"

They're conversation proceeds with Chris speaking of events that transpired from the day before: her job at the New York Public Library and what she did at home, which involved working on a new personal artistic piece while he was at the club. Lucas been finished with his plate, but he wanted to talk while waiting for her to finish the remains of her food. The private times they ate together, breakfast, lunch and dinner, were filled with discussions where they checked on the other, exchanged plans, and shared their personal projects outside the house, anything that passes their minds were brought up at the table.

With now a full stomach, a low hum resonates up her throat in contentment once she sets her silverware down and leans back in her chair as she releases a yawn, signifies she was finished with her meal for the night. Lucas grabs their empty plates, and after shoving the scraps in the trash, he walks over to the sink to busy his hands by washing the debris off the platters down the drain. Chris wasn't the only one who kept their apartment clean; Lucas contributed his services in the housework every so often to lessen the burden on her, despite him being a little messy and disorganized with his own things, but who's to say her wolf bae didn't try?

As he occupied himself with washing the dishware, Chris exited the kitchen, stifling a giggle as she ambled close to Butterscotch and Bunbun who both appeared to have fallen asleep in the dog bed; the canine and bunny looked adorable snuggled up together, she trusted the pibble to not harm her brown mini rex rabbit whom was in her care for years sometime after she got this apartment. Bunbun, along with Sapphire, were her first sense of companionship before she eventually, as shy as she was, developed friendships with some people. But her pets were the first friends she ever had, and she loves them dearly.

"C'mon sweetie." She whispers gently as her hands wraps around the furry little critter, in the process rouses Bunbun awake as Chris holds her in her arms while fingers thread themselves between her incredibly soft fur as she strokes her. She sat on her knees to put Bunbun in her cage, grabs a handful of hay which the bunny begins munching on as soon as she placed it inside for her to eat. Chris stood to her feet, turning around to see Lucas staring at her from his spot in the entrance of the kitchen who had his thumbs hooked under his suspenders with his gaze fixated on her.

"I'm bout ta go hop in the shower." Within his voice breathes a low, smoky aftertaste that saturates the timbre he speaks, and from where she stands in the darkness of the living room, notices how the color of his irises switches from its normal inky pigmentation to that of a cryptic yellow, bright orbs you'll only encounter flickering amongst the abundant foliage of the woods where nocturnal creatures dwell in the desolate company of creeping shadows by nightfall. His next sentence drops an invitation of sorts as he takes one step forward, eyes half-lid that held a simmering calm smolder for the young women who stands in his line of vision. "Ya mind joining me, sugah plum? I'll make it worth yer while."

The gleam of his eyes, however gentle they reflected back onto her person, sent a cold chill that spilled down the length of her spine. Yes, Lucas was her husband whom she loved with all her heart, but Cristi could never determine whether to be frightened or turned on by him, it was complicated; she summarized the perspective of these feelings towards him were a mixture of both: arousal and intimidation that his unearthly essence set her mind on edge. Nonetheless, it gave her a certain type of thrill considered dangerous that she's unable to express in words, like she was sticking her hand in the mouth of a wolf, all the while, foolishly places her trust in its predatory jaws to not chomp down on her.

And although she felt this way from time to time, his suggestive words produce a pool of wetness to leak onto the material of her panties from between her folds, envisions on the mental screen in her imagination of themselves engaged in the sexual acts of lovemaking beneath the streaming showerhead. The bathtub was a common place where they had sex and she didn't doubt it was something he had on his mind at this very moment, but if she was to be honest, she was tired, unsure if her body possess the vigor that such an activity demands to keep up with him. "You seriously have energy for 'that' right now?"

From the depths of his chest brings forth the arrival of a deep, sexy chuckle at her remark, recognizes the low intensity and huskiness of each breath as his gaze descends to concentrate on unbuckling his suspenders, and tosses the straps onto the leather couch before swaggering forward to meet her half way as she walks up to him. The crinkle about his mouth present a sly grin as an arm sneaks around her waist while his left hand dips behind her where he grabs a handful of her ass, her breasts smushing against his ribs as he then pulls her against the front of his body. "Dawlin', one thang ya need ta know about me is I'm never too tired for a good solid fuck." His voice pours into her ear canal like fine red wine, the soft, velvet fluidity that saturates his timbre causing her body to flood with spicy warmth, and she peers up into Lucas's haunting eyes where a mystical glow inhabits them, somehow finds the strength to suppress a moan at the feel of his warm breath that breezes over the expanse of her face as words continues rolling off his tongue. "But if yer tired, I have no problem doin' all the dirty work for you...all lil mama gotta do is back that ass up on daddy an ya get a ride for free." She watches his tongue peek out to lick the side of his upper lip, feeling his hand dip into the tight space of her lace black underwear from behind. "It's fairly easy...anyone can do it baby..."

Her breath hitches as she averts her gaze for a second, top teeth gently nibbling on the plush mound of her bottom lip as she considers his tempting offer while staring at the middle of his dark chest where his dress shirt was unbuttoned, eyes focuses on a round jewel that hangs from his necklace. "I am sleepy b-but..." she swallows a thick lump in her throat at the sudden feeling of his clothed member that teasingly presses on her lower stomach, results in a larger pool of her juices to gush involuntary between her legs as her words trail off course.

It didn't take much for Lucas to awaken the sexual prowess hidden within the depths of her shy nature, and her temperature was steadily rising as his palm rounded the curve of her backside, his fingers inches away from her slit that drips with burning desire for the feel of him inside her.

"Look at me, sweetheart." On a calm note he utters a gentle command, all the while, raises his hand from her waist to grip the twists of her hair, compels the release of a soft moan when her jaw falls open as her neck cranes so she may be forced to look up at him, doesn't give her an option in the matter at all. And as she stares at him, discovers his canines had extended their length on the verge of surpassing the line of his lips. In the dark room, her vision was slow to adjust to the low light, but his eyes swirls with evidential lust that appears to intensify their radiance as he held strong eye contact with her submissive brown orbs, his handsome visage dangling on both borders of man and beast as the top of his ears develop a pointy edge. But his level of sex appeal had amplified significantly with a dash of fear his countenance now officially displays, solely exclusive for her to behold.

"Yo body tells me otherwise cause tha' sweet pussy of yours smells wide awake an ready ta play, mama." With the aid of his keen sense of smell that grants him intel of her state of mind, Lucas utilizes this secretive knowledge about her sexual awakening by means of the feminine scent her womanhood diffuses into the air to his advantage. But in the way his fingertips easily slicks between the slippery smoothness of her juicy folds, forces her eyes to squeeze shut as a quiet moan crawls up her throat, tells him much. And with her neck now exposed to him, a gasp escapes her when she feels his mouth assault her neck, his soft lips sucking hard on her sensitive skin. Cristi embeds her teeth between her lower lip as she felt him tightly tug at her hair follicles that jerks her head back even more.

His thick wet muscle leaves streaks of sloppy saliva within the crook of her neck, switching the motions of his full lips between sucking and lapping over honey flavored areas the most erogenous he anticipates would get her heart pumping with lustful excitement. "Uhng L-lu..." Wrinkles emerge on the back of his shirt where her hands clutch the white cloth, expels out puffs of air from parted lips as her thighs squeezes together while he orbits a sturdy finger around the entrance of her womanhood in a teasing manner, pulling her small body flush against him that space between them was nonexistent.

"What ya doin' wearin' these tight ass panties gurl?" Hot air breathes onto her neck that became moist by the dampness of his hungry mouth, drags his bottom lip agonizingly slow up along her neck, and she shudders as his plump lips lightly brush against the shell of her ear where he murmurs in a sultry whisper. "Watchin tha' fat ass bouncing as ya walk all over the place. It's like ya wanted yo pussy ta get this dick wet tonight, was tha' yer plan baby?" His words, as well as his breath that induces ripples of goosebumps to run across the skin of her arms as it tickles her ear, sends a fresh wave of heat to course throughout her body as her heartbeat escalates to new heights.

"I-I jus..." Cristi stutters as the small pain where the sharp point of his lower and top fangs gives a tiny pinch at the lobe of her ear, and gently pulls it as his throat emits a low hum before slithering his tongue over the soft flesh. Lucas wasn't even deep in her guts yet and already she struggles to form a complete sentence. Her body was ultra sensitive to his touch. "I j-just wanted to b-be comfortable." She confesses, although within her subconscious foresaw this encounter of a possibility to happen.

"Hmmm...is tha' so..." He only hums in response as his hips push hard against her stomach, his manhood steadily making its presence known she can feel as his member prods her repeatedly when he starts dry humping her. "Not gonna lie that these look sexy as fuck on you," he removes his fingers from her heat, prompts her to whine from the lost contact of his finger that now gently tugs at the lace helm of her undergarment. And his eyes fall shut as he shifts the position of his head to rub his face over her own, breathes heavy through his nostrils as his face nuzzles cheek to cheek against hers as the affectionate maneuver forces her head to shift in whichever direction he moves - a lovesome gesture often seen amongst animals that demonstrates their love for the other, "but my dick wanna get comfortable inside yer walls. I'm sure ya pussy can handle it with all that nectar drippin' as water from the shower drenches our bodies, hot steam rising around us, yea?" He incorporates lascivious imagery in his words that implies the events that will take place in a few minutes from now, exercises his skills of storytelling to paint a picture in her mind, brings forth energy of pure lust for him.

"Can ya see it?" Glowing yellow eyes peeks at her through his lashes when his eyelids pry open, releases his grip on her hair before sliding the same hand down to rest on her upper back with a little pressure applied.

"Mmm Wolf yes..."

"Do you taste the water slidin' down my chest, baybeh? Ya like how I taste?"

"Y-ye -" Before Cristi could utter a word, Lucas catches her off guard when she feels the plush surface of his lips smothering her own, creates a wave of tingles to scatter across her body as his lips assaults her with an insatiable hunger for her flavor. His eyes squeeze tight, eyebrows furrowed as he moves his mouth against hers, their lips molding and conforming as they glide over the other, their loud moans filling the space as their heads shifts at different angles, and feels her small hands traveling up and down his back before they rest on his butt, her small palms squeezing a handful of his deliciously firm buttocks. Not that he didn't mind the gesture at all, but he couldn't repress his amusement as he smiles into the kiss when he felt her grope his glutes, and in response, he smacks her ass.

Lucas was an absolute master at this; he knew exactly, EXACTLY, what to say and how to say it to get Chris yearning with desire for him. And the fact that he was well endowed with a huge package, it was a requirement to ascertain she was soaking wet in order to accommodate him with as little pain as possible. His human mate was quiet and rather meek like a mother doe, but she transforms into a naughty vixen while in the heat of the moment who enjoyed being dominated by her one and only wolf.

His heart pounds against the cage of his ribs as their tongues dance in motion through an open mouth kiss, takes into consideration by offering proper care in the way – for the moment - his pointy fangs avoid piercing her tongue. She wraps her arms around his neck to pull him closer as Lucas turns them around, backing Cristi up as he guides her backwards in the direction of the bathroom without breaking their lips from each other. Once they get inside, his hand roughly pats the tile wall for the light switch, and though Cristi wishes for them to not part when the light brightens the bathroom, her lips grow cold from the lack of warmth of his mouth when he separates from her. But a slim line of saliva connects their lips as they split apart, the wet trail only breaking in two as he stands to his full height with a breathy huff, his hands on her waist as he takes a good look at her.

The urge to bite his lip is granted as Lucas analyzes the bouncy movement of her breast heaving up and down where she exhales heavy breaths of air, notices the outline of her thick nipples poking through the thin material of her tank top without the concealment of a bra, the lascivious sight sending a strong electric charge of arousal towards his dick that twitches visibly in his boxer briefs. Cristi, on the other hand, licks her lips while her eyes remained locked on the huge bulge protruding through the fabric of his pants. Lucas wasn't completely hard but even semi-flaccid he was packing tremendously; the thought made her clit throb with want and empty walls aching to be filled up by the thickness of his length she knew she can't ever handle, but that didn't stop his little mate from pining after his cock. She extends a curious hand towards his groin to feel him, but her motion is held on pause when he stops her by grabbing her wrist, causes her to stare up at him with subtle confusion as he holds her back, realizes his ears had shrunk to normal size and registers his eyes were now their regular midnight black.

"Ah ah ah, my dear, patience." Sharp fangs decorate the mischievous grin that settles in place on his full lips as Lucas waves a teasing finger in her face, and to her disbelief, she watches his left hand slowly slide down his torso till he reaches his crotch, and through thick lips he expels a sexy groan as he clutches his big member. His ringed fingers fondle the large mass of his juicy bulge and rubs his hand up and down before giving his palm a soft thrust of his hips - all this carried out while a smug, lopsided toothy smile laid stretched across his handsome face as he silently gauges her reaction to his lecherous gesticulations. "Ya like when I play with myself, baby?"

Obvious traces of lust and frustration were etched upon soft features where an overwhelming rise of heat blossoms within her cheeks, unmistakably flustered, hot and bothered as she observes him touch himself in front of her, making her gulp. "L-Lucas c'mon stop playin'." Cristi was beyond aroused, wide awake, and somewhat embarrassed of her own lewd actions, suddenly feel her panties become overly drenched with her fluids, so much so that her slimy wetness seeps through the cloth and smears between the skin of her inner thighs, the more she stares at the motions of his hand massaging his bulge. Lucas loves to take his time to give her a little tease and was, as she'll put it, extremely kinky.

Beneath the low hood of his dark eyes he examines her facial expressions, and with his right hand wrapped around her wrist, he leads her hand to touch his shirt where her palm lays flat on his torso, her fingers grazing the small buttons of his garb. "What I need ya to do is unbutton me first. Think ya can do that for me?"

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surveys-at-your-service · 6 years ago

Text

Survey #205

forget picking song lyrics, i’m going the hell to bed now.

Do you live by yourself? I live with my mom. Do you like cleaning? Does anyone???? Who is your favorite character from Harry Potter? I've never watched the series; not even a single movie, actually. So I don't have an opinion. Do you watch PewDiePie? Extremely rarely. He's funny, but I'm not interested in his channel's content anymore. Do you like "Despacito?" My sister showed it to me once when she learned I'd never heard it, and I found zero appeal in it whatsoever. Do you play Pokemon Go? It's a brilliant idea, and I really do wish I could play it, but here where I live, there are like ZERO PokeStops (where you get Pokeballs), even in cities, so it's pretty much impossible. Did you ever color your hair pink? No. Do you like Dr. Phil? I don't watch the show and don't know him as a person. Do you prefer to be inside or outside? Inside. Do you eat meat? Sadly. I'm HOPEFULLY quitting when I get to the weight I want; I wasn't getting the nutrients I needed when I was vegetarian to where my body was desperately clinging to what it had or something like that (basically, my weight wouldn't budge in a couple of months), but even still, I don't know if I could do it without depriving myself again. I'm just such a picky eater. Do you need to do the dishes? Yeah. Not desperately, but. Are you scared of clowns? No. Do you have any subscribers on YouTube? *checks* A very impressive 66. Do you believe in ghosts? Yes. Do you salt your popcorn? Yes. Do you like McDonald's? Don't even lie to me, you'll eat there. I don't mind it at all. Do you have a Steam account? Yes. Do you like gaming? Not as much as I used to, but yes. Have you ever played Five Nights at Freddy’s? No. I don't consider jumpscares to be genuinely "scary," but rather a natural reaction to surprise, but FNAF's are intense, and I know they'd have me jumping like crazy. That aside, the games aren't of my personal appeal to actually play (though it's a fun game to watch). Do you like horror movies? Yes. Do you like chicken nuggets? I love me my chicken nuggies hunty. Have you ever tried Akinator? Yes. Can you twerk? I don't know and don't care to. Do you like dabbing? It looks stupid to me. The meme of it makes me laugh, though. What was the last country you visited? I've never left the country. Do you know your phone number? No, actually. It is incredibly difficult for me to memorize sequences, and besides, it's not like I give out my number almost ever. Do you swear in front of children? No. What’s your opinion on Brexit? Shit, I don't even remember what it's about. So obviously I can't have an opinion. It doesn't affect me, anyway. If you want children, what are some of your reasons for wanting them? N/A When you cook a dish that has beans in it, do you prefer to use canned or dry beans? I don't cook, and you'll never see me willingly eat a bean. What were some fun experiments you did in science class as a kid? The two that sharply stand out to me are dissecting an owl pellet in elementary and a frog in middle school. Both were SO cool. What was the last strong emotion you felt? Excitement. After finishing a bowl of cereal, do you drink the leftover milk? Only ever if it's Cinnamon Toast Crunch that I ate. And even then, only sometimes. Do you use dry shampoo between washes? No. What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done? Overdosing. What’s the most severe allergic reaction you’ve ever had to something? Nothing severe, besides pollen allergies flaring up. What’s your favorite sub-genre of rock? Hard. Who was the last person to get frustrated with you, and why? Mom, but she was more than frustrated. We were having a serious fight about her attitude towards Dad and his wife. What’s something that makes absolutely zero sense to you? Anti-vax shitlords. What’s your phone background? Lock screen is Darkiplier, home screen is Sara kissing my forehead. :'> Have you ever lived with someone you didn’t get along with? No. Do you have a fitness tracker? No. What types of animals have you had as pets? A billion cats, dogs, snakes, lizards, rats, gerbils, guinea pigs, rabbits, fish, box turtles, hermit crabs... and probably more. How well do you understand economics? Have you ever taken an econ class? Not well at ALL. I had one my senior year. What was the last fruit you ate? I had two bites out of a watermelon 'cuz I was really hungry, but we didn't really have anything as a snack. (I fast daily, so I have to watch when my meals are.) I'm not a big watermelon fan, but I hadn't tried these cubes before, and at least it was something. Can you remember your first day of school? I believe I can very faintly... very faintly. I think I had a complete breakdown because of my insane separation anxiety regarding my mom, or it was the complete opposite... alskdfjaweiajr it's like I can kinda see it in the back of my head, but it's super blurry. What’s your favorite movie? The Lion King. It was my favorite as a kid and became so again as an adult just truly acknowledging how damn good and meaningful it is. Plus the soundtrack was a banger. Would you rather jump out of an airplane or go scuba diving? Scuba diving. Do you get bored looking at other peoples’ holiday pictures? Eh. If it's a whole lot, yes, but as a photographer, I enjoy noting which ones I like and why I favor them. Do you give money to charity? Not currently, no. I have no money to give. When I do have a paying job, I plan on definitely donating any time Mark does a charity stream. Are you more into music or movies? Music, easily. When was the last time you went to a swimming pool? WOW. It's been years. Either when I still lived in the apartment or once at Colleen's in-laws', I can't remember which was last. Would you rather have a pet snake or a pet turtle? I have a snake, and I'll take another for sure. Have you ever seen a band live? Who was the last you saw? Just Alice Cooper. Ma and I are seeing Ozzy next year (if the poor man ain't dead), tho!!!! And he's gonna be with Judas Priest and Megadeth. We are NOT going to survive. Do people who use massive amounts of emoticons annoy you? Yes. Emojis, more specifically. If you're writing a sentence and you use an emoji after each and every goddamn word, it drives me up a wall. What was the last clothing item you bought? Underwear, I believe? Or a bra? What does your washing powder smell like? Idk. Normal? Do you have a dishwasher or do you do dishes by hand? By hand, which I cannot explain how much I loathe. It feels disgusting. Are there any cobwebs in your room? I don't believe so, no. Have you ever used a pick-up line and had it work? Ew, I'd never use one to begin with. Have you ever entered a modelling competition? Would you? No to both. The current modelling industry is so, so harmful. Did you keep any drawings/stories from when you were younger? Like around two years ago, I remember going on a mass destruction episode of those super old things, as they embarrassed me horribly, even though I know it had no real reason. Just everything I create embarrasses me. My mom has old school stuff, though. Who did you last have an argument with? Mom today. When was the last time you cooked for yourself? If you include putting things in the microwave with few steps... not that long ago. Maybe two days back. Do you have a safe? Mom does. When was the last time you saw a relative? Mooonths ago when Grammy and her husband were driving through. My brother and his son are visiting real soon, though!! Do you shout out the answers at quiz shows? Yes, lol. Have you ever been in a TV audience? I've been to like three-four hockey games, so yeah. Have you ever entered the lottery? Won anything? No. Well, Mom or Dad would rarely get those scratch-off tickets at random, but the most we've ever got was just like five bucks or so. Do you prefer crosswords or word searches? Word searches. Have you ever drawn on a wall in your house? No. Do you like making collages? No. Have you ever kept a scrapbook? Yeah. What’s your favorite video-game? Silent Hill 2 and Shadow of the Colossus. Sigh, I want a PS4 SO bad to get the SotC remaster. I actually teared up when I saw the opening cutscene for the first time, and I just marveled through the EEEEEEENNNNtire playthrough I watched. It's unbelievable. Do you remember any inside jokes from childhood? Not off the top of my head. I'm tired, don't make me think. Have you ever made up a word? Well, as a writer, I've made up names and places. A word itself, I don't think so. Do you get nervous speaking to people you don’t know on the phone? VERY!!!!!!!! Are you scared of anything irrational? You mean like, half my fears? Do you have a passport? What’s the picture like? No. Have you ever had a full fringe? (bangs) As a kid I did. Is there anything you would never admit to liking? Don't think so. What’s the weirdest craze you can remember? Fidget spinners. Do you use bug spray or fly swatters? Fly swatters. Then we also have this hanging cylindrical sticky... thing that flies and gnats are apparently attracted to with the smell, I guess. Works like magic, though I agree it's pretty cruel. Just stuck there until you die. Are you a clumsy person? Boy, am I. Do you have tiled floors in your house? In three rooms. Do you listen to any movie soundtracks regularly? No. Do you bruise easily? Way too easily. Like normally something simple won't leave behind an obvious one, but even a normal poke in the arm hurts a lot and leaves the spot sore for a good while. I was tested for anemia, but apparently, I don't have it. What would you love to learn to do? Play the electric guitar. Do you prefer monkeys or lemurs? Ehhh... lemurs as far as cute goes, monkeys overall. Do you watch movies based on the actors or the movie plot? The plot. Do you have any phone charms on your mobile? No. What is your opinion on sex without emotional commitment? That's a big 'ole honkin' nope. Last time you puked from drinking? Never. Have you ever gotten drunk and danced on a bar? No. What is your favorite simple ice-cream flavor? Vanilla. Though sometimes I prefer chocolate. Do you pay attention to calories on the back of packages? Only for dinner. I forgot the science behind it, but one of my meds for bipolarity only works to its full effect after ingesting at least 350 calories; I only get about a 20% effectiveness of the medicine when eating less. I know it sounds weird, but my psychiatrist is a goddamn genius, and I trust every word that comes out of his mouth. When was the last time you slept on the floor? Two years ago when I was living with Colleen and I didn't have a blow-up mattress yet. Are you currently wanting any piercings or tattoos? When???????????????? do I?????????????? not???????????????????????????????????? Do you wear flip-flops? That's pretty much all I wear just about year-round... I remember in 7th grade, one of my teachers asked me about it a lot and I just told her I didn't mind the cold, which was true. Pretty sure she thought I was lying and was too poor to buy new clothes or something, as she gifted me socks one day, which I thought was incredibly sweet. I miss my 7th grade teachers. Best school year. Who was the last person to kiss you on the cheek? Pretty sure my niece Aubree when saying bye. What is your favorite sauce to eat with spaghetti? Normal Prego sauce, I think. Have you ever seen a magic show? A little one as a kid. When was the last time you vomited and why? Months and months ago when I was testing a medication. Quit that shit real fast, as it made me sick so many times. Where do you usually sit when you eat dinner? Uhhh I eat in my bed usually, lmao. We almost never sit at the table. I normally do if Mom's there, though. How often do you get headaches? Ugh, often. Why did you call the last person you called? I was calling back about my job application that I was supposed to hear about yesterday. How many windows are in the room you’re in? Two. Do you have Facebook friends that you’ve never actually met? Yes. When was the last time you had your photo taken professionally? Not since senior pictures, pretty sure. I hated how it came out. I have a lazy eye when I smile, gah. How long does it take you to get to school or work? Currently N/A. Let’s say you had a baby with the last person you kissed? We're both female, so. And neither of us want kids anyway. When was the last time you completely broke down? A couple weeks ago in a totally random and severe panic attack. Do you have someone you can spill your heart out to? Yeah. Is there a person that you would do absolutely anything and everything for? No. I'm not gonna, say, murder someone just because they want me to. What’s something you really want right now? To go and get my tattoo cleaned up by a more professional artist alsdkjfalwei. I got the approximate cost, I just have to wait until I can afford it. This tattoo is so so so important to me and it needs to be perfect. What is your relationship status? Taken. What was the longest time you’ve wasted on a certain person? Not even two weeks lmao. I said yes to dating mostly out of fear of hurting his feelings, and he QUICKLY proved he was NOT for me. Are you listening to music right now? Yeah, my iTunes is on shuffle. Anyone you would like to get things straight with? I wouldn't want to be friends I don't think, but I REALLY want to see Jason one final time to tell him how sorry I am. I recently acknowledged just how fucked up I treated him after the breakup; he wasn't the only one who made mistakes. I sure as hell did. He deserves to hear it badly. I do believe our last talk was a good ending, but I feel me finally admitting that I fucked up would be the perfect one. What was the best thing that happened to you today? Seeing Dad for his birthday. When was the last time you did something for the first time? I talk-talked to some WoW friends a couple days ago, though very very briefly. I couldn't figure Discord push-to-talk out and I ended up panicking lmao. What color are the last new pair of pants that you bought? Black. Is your room clean? I should dust and vacuum, but the latter doesn't currently work. List all the countries you’ve visited. I've never left America. At what age would you allow your kids to dye their hair? Shit, whenever they wanted tbh. So long they sounded serious about it and it wasn't just a brief episode of "oh this would be cool." Which fast food place do you eat at the most? Hm. Wendy's or Sonic. When was the last time you weren’t lonely? Jesus fucking Christ, who knows. What kind of movies do you like? Horror, fantasy, Disney/kids' films, comedies, rom coms, and emotionally moving ones. Bats are not spooky or are they? They're adorable, omg. Do you think blue is a gay color? Fuck off. What's your opinion on gays? Fuck off harder. Do you like the song "Womanizer"? Don't even talk to me if you don't. Where is your favorite place to get fries? You can't live your fullest life without having Bojangle's fries at least once. Do you know anyone who was raised by their grandparents? Idk. Have you ever made your own pie from scratch? No. Who was the last person you had an in-depth conversation with? Sara. What was the last fast food item you ate? A hot dog. What is your favorite gaming console? You know PS2 was the best, you know it. What was the last major city you visited? Raleigh, if that even counts. Do you always have a stock of alcohol in your house? No. Have you ever had a pumpkin latte and if so, did you like it? I hate everything pumpkin-flavored. Is there an antique store in your town or city? I think so... Have you ever been to a baby shower? My sister's. Maybe others', but idr. Do you know anyone who has been to rehab? Pretty sure yes. How many romantic relationships have you been in so far? Genuinely "romantic" ones, two. Would you consider yourself to be a picky eater? I am 99% sure I am the pickiest human being to ever live. Have you ever lived in a house with a pool in the yard? Not a built-in one. What color is your toothbrush? Blue. Do you have gluten intolerance or know anyone who does? I know a few people. Have you ever slept in a car overnight? No. Have you ever fainted? Yes. Do you avoid conflict as much as possible? YUP. Do you like ice cream cake? I'm not a big fan. Have you ever made out with someone of the same sex? Yes. Where is your second home!? The place I'm second-most comfortable is probably Sara's. What song always makes you sad? I avoid listening to "The Mortician's Daughter" by Black Veil Brides unless I just really, really want to hear it. I always tear up due to memories. Have you ever played a game that required removing your clothes? No. Where is your favorite place to be kissed? Breasts and neck. Were you mean as a little kid? No. Who was the last person you hung out with? Dad. What is your mother’s name? Donna. What is your favorite song at the moment? I've been in true love with a heavy metal cover of "Invincible" from the WoW soundtrack for like a full month. What day will you never forget? The breakup night. Suicide attempt. My niece and nephew being born. Meeting Sara. Getting Teddy. First time hanging out at Jason's. 16th birthday. Alice Cooper concert. Putting Dale and Cali down. There's a lot. What was the last thing you took a picture of? Some crazy shit on FB to show Sara. Something you're looking forward to? Getting a goddamn job. What is God teaching you right now? Lul. What does Notre Dame Cathedral mean to you, and how has its fire affected you? I was devastated to hear about it; it was the one event that actually got me paying attention to the news. It is a monument of incredible art and history, and for Catholics, a house of their god. I am so thankful the damage wasn't too tremendous. What’s the last dumb decision you made that you beat yourself up over? I dunno. Surprisingly. What’s your favorite version of the Bible to read? N/A If applicable, do you underline verses in your Bible? N/A When was the last time you went to church? Not since Colleen had her extreme Christian phase two years ago. What’s the last song you listened to on repeat? "Radio" by Rammstein. That new album's gonna be bangin'. Does your town’s hospital have a good reputation? NOPE. It sure does not. I have no issue with the psychiatric care unit there, though. Every time I went to the ER for suicidal thoughts or the attempt, they were sweethearts to me. But as far as physical health, they do NOT have a good rep. I know someone's grandfather that nearly fucking died thanks to them, and I can't recall what it was exactly, but Mom had some complaints during her kidney cancer treatment. What is your hometown known for? Crime. Are you longing for and missing a toxic person? I honestly miss Colleen sometimes, but I can't go back to her. I can't. I'm done giving her more chances than she deserves. It was nice to actually have someone to hang out with, but she is just overall not a pleasant person. What’s your greatest longing? Financial stability, probably. Have you ever read a Bible verse and thought, “this isn’t true”? BOY HOWDY- What are you behind on? Being an adult. I am 23 and a SOOOOOORRYYYYYY excuse for one. Is there someone who’s stolen from you and never got caught? Yes. Someone stole our basketball hoop from my childhood home. Have you been lonely for most of your life? Most of my life, no. What color is your sleeping bag? I don’t have one. When was the last time you used a sleeping bag, and what for? When I lived with Colleen and slept on the floor for a bit. Do you live near the woods? Yeah, there's woods across the road. What do you want to be for Halloween this year? List 1-3 ideas. I wanna be the dumb blonde witch from Hocus Pocus, lmao. A pastel vampire would be pretty cool. And Rhett from the "Sleep Tight" video has instilled in me the great desire to be a steampunk toothfairy at least once. List five things people have been jealous of you for. Idk. List five things you have felt jealous of other people for. More than anyone, a friend of many friends' photography success when I can genuinely and modestly say I really think I'm better than her. That is easily the worst envy situation I've dealt with (and still do), as this is the one that is actually almost spiteful, wrong as that is. Then I have another friend who is a FANTASTIC photographer as well and is now a professional one in the fashion industry, I believe. Then there was a girl I went to school with called Cailin whose drawing skills were naturally INCREDIBLE since elementary school, and I remember back then, me and her would always get the most attention for our work, but she did moreso, but I wanted to be the "best" artist. Once I hit high school I just had great respect for her talent. Next, one of my former best friends Hannia was a natural GENIUS that got perfect scores on LITERALLY almost anything; she had the highest GPA in the entire school, while I was right behind her. And uhhhh five... I have been and still am jealous of my sisters for being proper, successful adults. What is your favorite shade of brown? Like a caramel tone, I guess? What color is your toilet seat? White. Would you rather live in an apartment or a house? Definitely a house. What’s one thing you had growing up that you miss now? Energy. Do you prefer kale, lettuce, or spinach? Lettuce. Do you listen to instrumental bands such as Hammock, Trentemoller, etc.? No. Have you ever gotten a manicure or pedicure? Just because my sisters went and Mom wanted me to hang out with them. I may have with my old friend, too. Have you ever self-harmed? Yeah. Never the answer. Do you have any eating disorders? No. I'm afraid of developing one once I (hopefully) get to the weight I want, though. Have you ever met a celebrity? No. Do you like Monster Energy or do you prefer other energy drinks? I hate energy drinks. They taste like poison. Do you plan on getting married? Yeah. Do you want kids? That's a big fat nope. What’s your sexual orientation? I don’t judge. Bisexual. At what time of day do you normally feel the best? The morning. Name one reason why someone should not commit suicide. YOU. CAN. GET. BETTER. Seek professional help if you feel suicidal, and after what I understand is a serious struggle, you truly can go into the light at the end of the tunnel. You've got, to our understanding, one shot at this. Don't end it when there is a possibility for a beautiful future. If you’re unhappy, what would it take to make you fulfilled? Have a job and be in school. Name someone you know who is a cancer survivor. My mom. Are you friends with any cancer survivors? I don't think so. Do you wish the sunrise and sunset lasted longer? Hm. Sunset, maybe. Idk. Name a country whose history you know nothing about. Lmao most. What is your favorite store at the mall? Hot Topic. Do you have a bed or do you sleep on a mattress on the floor? I have a bed. When was the last time you went for a run? Shit, not since high school gym. Do you keep Christmas lights up year-round? No. What did you win a scholarship for? Nowhere. What type of bug do you see the most often in your home? Flies. Do you put off things until the last minute? I tend to. Is your mom the same size as you? No, I'm smaller. Do you know any Christians who aren’t judgmental? No shit. Do you still think of that Gwen Stefani song when you spell bananas? Ha ha yup. Do you like the way your hair naturally is, or do you change it? It's fine. But I want it dyed badly. Do you know anyone who died accidentally by doing something stupid? Yes. How many different languages have you taken in school? Latin and German. How tall is your father? (Estimate?) Idk. Over six feet. Would you meet Miley Cyrus if you had the chance? No. What is your favorite slow song? Oh yeesh. Idk. Maybe "See You On The Other Side" by Ozzy. Do you believe in karma? No. Do you constantly check your cell phone? No. Only Sara or Mom ever text me, and I pick it up just if the green light is blinking (means I have a message). If there were aliens on earth, would you be afraid? Well yeah. If you could spend 1 hour 20 years in the future, would you? Yes. I want to see where I am, so long as I can change my behavior to improve that future if needed. Otherwise, I don't wanna know. Are your pets asleep? Teddy probably is, Bentley might be, idk where Roman is, but he likely is, I can't see Mitsu from where I am currently, Venus may be (no eyelids, so you never know) as she's in her rock, and Kaiju is awake. Have you ever wished you were an only child? Never. Have you ever hurt someone on purpose? Yes. Have you ever gotten hurt while sledding? No. Do you enjoy going through old pictures? It depends on the subject of them and my mental state. Kid pictures I'm always up for, high school ones are okay, though they can make me really upset with how healthy and skinny I was, and I deleted all photos I had on Facebook of Jason and me last year so I couldn't even risk looking at them ever again, as there's a good chance some would trigger my PTSD. Of all your exes, who do you think you had the deepest feelings for? Jason, obviously. Do you tend to have a lot of drama in your life? I have the most uneventful, bland life. No. When’s the last time someone was disappointed in you? Idk. What song are you listening to right now? Is this one of your favorite songs? "Alone I Break" by Korn. No, but I love it. What is something you have to explain a lot? My sweating issue. Gross to talk about, but I sweat seriously excessively, like you would not believe. It can be 70 degrees and I'll be sweating in seconds. People worry about it, and in VR, I've had to explain it so many times due to it affecting suitable jobs (I think we can all agree being drenched in sweat at work looks extremely bad). Hopefully I won't have to anymore when my doctor decides what to do about it. It's most likely a thyroid issue, which I have no clue about how to subdue symptoms of. There's really a shitload I have to explain lately between doctors and VR... Which compliment do you receive the most? From those that know me/see me, that I'm losing weight. From people in general, "I love your hair" or something like that. Who were you last on the phone with? My sister. What is one thing you have always wondered? Uh. Idk. I'm sure there's a lot, just nothing's coming to me atm... What do your friends think about the music you listen to? Your family? My friends and I like similar stuff, as do my parents, especially Mom. My sisters are the total opposite of me and don't enjoy metal and the like at all. Has anyone ever told you to grow up? Essentially. Do you believe people when they say they don’t judge people? Hell no. How many true friends do you have? Excluding family and my girlfriend as they're more than that, like... one or two, it feels like most of the time. Can you honestly say you’re happy right now? No. What is something you are exceptionally bad at? Doing math in my head or spelling up there. AND READING LIPS. Do you have a house phone? No. Who do you love more than anyone right now? Don't make me choose between Mom and Sara. How much money do you have saved up? I literally have $11. Do you like bright/neon colors? Yes, but I prefer pastel. What is your favorite wild animal? Meerkats. Do you ever eat breakfast? I almost always do. Do you remember who your first grade teacher was? Yes. Have you ever won any trophies? What for? Yeah, for A honor roll all through elementary school (save for 5th grade; I got one B and was so upset, lmao), then in all kid sports I played, everyone got lil ones, some from dance I believe, and I think there's one or two others I'm not thinking of...

#survey #quiz #questions #random

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joshiesjourney · 6 years ago

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Pesach II

Part two!

First things first, here’s a vocab list for Passover

This post I would like to structure according to my plans for all holidays:

1. Summary:

Pesach (Passover) is a holiday to celebrate and commemorate the delivery of the jewish people from Ancient Egypt where they were enslaved, following the ten plagues God brought upon them.

2. What it’s based on:

The holiday is based on this story:

The jewish people were enslaved by the Egyptians while they were residing in their land. Moses, a levite, survives Pharaoh’s attempt to kill all newborn Hebrew boys as he is adopted into the family of the Pharaoh. He grows up unaware of his heritage, but when he rises to the defense of a Hebrew man who is being beaten by an Egyptian overseer and kills the overseer, he is forced to flee Egypt to the land of Midian.

God speaks to Moses through a bush engulfed in fire that is not burning and he sends him back to Egypt to lead his kindred out of bondage. He meets up with his brother Aaron, who acts as a speaker. Pharaoh refuses to let them go and increases their work load. Through Aaron, Moses and finally on his own, God performs ten plagues upon Egypt: All water becomes blood, a plague of frogs and then of lice occur, wild animals from all over the world stampede through Egypt, disease epidemics strike the animals, boils strike the humans, hail destroys the land, locust swarms consume what is left and finally the world is shrouded in darkness for three days and nights. The last plague is the death of the firstborn son of every Egyptian household, paralleling the killing of the Hebrew infants.

Moses finally can leave, leading his people out of Egypt, however Pharaoh follows them with his army. The climax of the story is the splitting of the Reed Sea, permitting them to pass through and getting the Egyptians stuck/drowning them (depending on translation and interpretation).

3. How celebrate:

Passover goes from 15th of Nisan to 21st/22nd of Nisan, depending on location and part of judaism.

Leading up to Pesach there is the custom some jewish people follow to remove all chametz (leavened bread) from their house and deep clean it to ensure they follow this mitzvah.

On the 14th (or 13th, if the 14th is on Shabbat) there is the mitzvah for the first born child to fast.

On the 15th (or 15th and 16th in some communities) it is custom to have a family Seder (order, arrangement). Here are some things about the Seder that I learned from this resource:

The seder follows an outline given by the Haggadah. Different haggadot exist and different denominations of Judaism will have different expectations at theirs.

The Steps of the Seder

- Order: the Seder has 15 steps, outlined by the Haggadah, same as the 15 steps leading up to the Temple. It is argued that following these steps brings you to a spiritual goal in the same way.

- The fifteen Simanim (Symbols): The system outlining the Seder is actually attributed to either the biblical commenter Rashi or Rabbi Shmuel Falasse. The steps are:

1. Kadesh - Blessing of the wine and the holiday of Passover, drinking of the wine 2. Urchatz - Rinsing of hands with water but without the bracha over washing hands being spoken 3. Karpas - Dipping a vegetable into saltwater and eating it 4. Yachatz - Breaking of the middle matzah (there are three matzot on the plate), leaving the smaller piece here and hiding the larger for a later step 5. Maggid - People are invited to join the Seder and the Four Questions are asked. The Exodus is retold, the mitzvot that make Pesach special are noted, thanks is given to God and another cup of wine is drunk 6. Rachtzah - Before eating matzah the hands are washed again, this time with the blessing 7. Motzi - Blessing (Hamotzi) of the bread while holding the matzah with all ten fingers 8. Matzah - Eating the matzah in a reclined position, indicating the splendor of this meaningful night 9. Maror - Eating of bitter herbs (generally a bitter veggie like horseradish) in rememberance of the bitterness of exile 10. Korech - A sandwich of matzah with bitter herbs is eaten, combining the bitterness of bondage with the glory of freedom 11. Shulchan Orech - Feasting time to celebrate the night 12. Tzafun - Meaning “hidden”, the matzah piece from earlier is brought out again, eaten as the last food of the night 13. Barech - Grace after meals, Bricat HaMazon is recited, drink another cup of wine 14. Hallel - A song to praise and thank the Lord, drink the last cup of wine 15. Nirtzah - The conclusion of the evening, to work towards new good things in the year to come.

- The Seder plate contents:

1. K’arah - The plate itself 2. Zero’ah - The roasted bone (customarily a chicken bone with some meat. Not eaten. At the times of the Temple in Jerusalem Korban Pesach (Pascal lamb) was roasted and the last thing to be eaten at Pesach) 3. Beitzah - (meaning egg) The Chagigah was customarily brought as the main meat of the Seder, today it is replaced with an egg (a symbol of mourning, for the destruction of the Temple) 4. Maror and chazeret - Bitter herbs, often maror is horseradish and chazeret is romaine salad 5. Charoset - Nuts, apples, wine, and cinnamon (aka allergy on a plate) as a reminder of the hard work the jewish people did in Egypt with brick and mortar 6. Karpas - A non bitter vegetable 7. Matzah - The unleavened bread, either right above or right below the Seder plate

4. Deeper Meaning

a) The Goals of the passover Seder

- Telling the events: It is a mitzvah to remember the Exodus and pass it’s knowledge on to the next generation. This story is said to have been told over and over from the time it happened to today - with even haggadot dating back to the middle ages having been found - It keeps the historic memory alive

- Instilling faith: Not only do you tell the story for history’s sake, you use the story telling to remind each other of God’s existence and presence, highlighting the divine intervention that is considered the basic foundation of the jewish belief in God. Through the Seder this knowledge and faith is handed on to the children. By hearing a story where God controls the world and nature rather than being a passive player or philosophically considering God, the divine presence becomes more grippable, more understandable to anyone. But what does it mean to have faith? It is interpreted here that in Judaism, simply believing is not enough, showing is important. In order to truly have a connection to God, as it is obligatory, you are expected to live it and express it. Judaism, from what I have learned and gathered so far, believes very strongly in actions over words, let alone thoughts. Your actions define how others perceive you and mold your spiritual experience in return. Confirming what you believe with actions feeds the faith in return.

-Experiencing freedom: In this feast, it is obligatory to consider the Exodus as if oneself had been part of it, making the story personal to each individual hearing it. This part, where we are obligated by Haggadah and Talmud to view it as if we personally had been part of the Exodus in spirit and soul, is where the idea of the jewish soul comes from: a concept where it is said that all jewish people, including those yet to be born, were present at Mt. Sinai and that people who are meant to become jewish will feel a calling. (Something that to some extend I believe I experience.) Back on topic, by making this a personal experience this source argues that there are two Exodus’ that occur during the Seder: the historical and the spiritual one that occurs every single year during Passover. It is meant to be an experience of the Exodus, allowing for redemption for all who participate.

- Thanksgiving: In light of the question “what if God hadn’t taken us from Egypt” a grim probability opens up; one where the jewish people dwindle out of existence. It is a sobering thought that inspires gratitude. By acknowledging what was done with Dayeinu (”Would have been enough”) it instills a kind of gratitude that is often missing: appreciation of what you have, even if you wish you had more. Appreciation for the existence of a jewish nation and the spiritual freedom God has given.

b) Making Seder meaningful

- Setting the mood: First of all, hospitality goes above all on Pesach. Customarily the poor and the needy would be invited in, today often a big celebration is made where people from family and beyond are invited. Make it special by using the best cloths, cutlery and plates that are specifically for Passover, reclining to demonstrate the freedom they have.

- Piquing the interest of the children: Quite a few things are different on this night than usual (no blessing before washing the hands the first time, hiding the matzah) and it is encouraged for the leader of the Seder to mix things up to keep the children asking questions, the most important thing of all. A curious child can learn. A bored child will not. This holiday is about passing the story of Exodus, the experience of Exodus on.

- The question and answer format: The question “Why is this night different from all other nights?” begins the Haggadah, it is there to make people question the Exodus. It is obligatory to ask it, even if one is alone, so that people start to think and question. Questions are a void that demands filling with answers, inviting learning.

- Tailoring education: The haggadah speaks of four children; the wise, the wicked and the one who does not know how to ask. They represent four ways of educating the next generation, four ways of learning. It is important to make the Haggadah accessible, picking a language everyone speaks and changing things up where needed.

c) Pesach Sacrifice, Matzah and Maror

Without the Temple, there is no Pesach Sacrifice anymore, so it was replaced with a piece of bone with meat on it. Matzah and Maror however are still very much part of the Pesach experience.

Pesach Sacrifice: It signifies the blood that was used to mark the door frames and make God pass over the Hebrew housings during the Exodus, but it also signifies thanks to God for the miraculous birth of the jewish nation. They chose God’s protection and followed God’s plan, leading them to the state of Exodus.

Matzah: Symbolizing the haste that was present when leaving Egypt, not even having time to let the bread rise. It’s unleavened state, which demands haste and enthusiasm to make rather than passiveness symbolizes striving for good and bettering.

Maror: Symbolizing the bitterness of bondage, Maror reminds of the bad that was left behind. The hardship though did form the jewish nation in the end, creating an environment and a people that were willing to accept the freedom, motivating them to pursue betterment.

d) The Four Cups of Wine

Mirroring the four stages of Redemption (‘I brought forth,’ ‘I saved,’ ‘I redeemed,’ and ‘I took’) the four cups represent the divine presence coming into the world and bettering it, changing it. Even in Eden there were four branches of the river, the number four having a lot of symbolism and significance.

There is a fifth cup that is not drunk during the Seder, the Cup of Elijah. It symbolizes the coming of the Messiah, cumstomarily the door is also opened to invite him in. This is the fifth redemption: the redemption in the future.

#jumblr #Pesach #passover #matzah #seder #holidays

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livingcorner · 3 years ago

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The Best Knife Sets on Amazon, According to Hyperenthusiastic Reviewers

Whether you’re a beginner in the kitchen or a more seasoned chef, a set of knives can make cooking at home a whole lot easier. And if you really want to save time and effort, rather than building your knife collection one-by-one, you can buy a knife set. The trick, of course, is finding one that’s filled with actually nice, sharp knives. That’s why we’ve scoured Amazon to find the best knife sets that are highly praised by the most enthusiastic reviewers. And if you’re looking for something a bit more specific, we’ve covered the best kitchen knives, the best chef’s knives, even the best knives for kids, too.

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More than 20,000 reviewers give this knife set five stars and many were happy to find both an affordable and attractive option, but most importantly sharp. This isn’t a self-sharpening knife block, but more than 400 reviewers liked set’s external sharpener. One reviewer thinks it’s “the best part. Most people assume a knife will keep its sharpness throughout its lifetime, but unfortunately, that’s not true. When the time comes for them to dull down a bit, I can sharpen them right back up.” One reviewer who has a “modern looking kitchen” appreciates that this set, which he calls high quality, matches his decor with its “nice acrylic space saving rack.” He also adds that the “knives are already incredibly sharp” but the knife sharpener will come in handy as he plans to use these knives a lot. “Still on the fence? Just go for it, make the plunge,” says another reviewer. He’s owned these knives for three months and hasn’t had to sharpen them yet.

Over 8,000 five-star reviewers were impressed with the quality (and price) of this 22-piece kitchen-knife set from Farberware — and dozens appreciate the additional cooking tools. “We purchased this item for our home just after we moved in as a starter set. We absolutely love it,” writes one such reviewer. “The knives stay sharp, the scissors are great for so many household things, and the measuring cups are perfect for all your cooking needs.” Plus, all the pieces are dishwasher-safe, so they say there’s “no rusting,” and it’s “all well-crafted.” Another reviewer replaced their old kitchen knives with these and says the set “looks great on my counter and the knives have sliced through everything I’ve used them on so far effortlessly.”

If you’re new to the kitchen, this is an ideal starter kit. At least one reviewer describes it as a “beginners set … For an adult who doesn’t do that much cooking and just needs something that will cut different things — watermelon, chicken, a steak with dinner — this is great.” The set of 14 blades is comprehensive enough without being too overwhelming, which another reviewer appreciates. “I live alone, so it has all of the essentials without taking up too much of my counter space,” they say. And though reviewers comment on the relatively inexpensive price of this set, they also say that they are quality. “The knife is sturdy and has a good weight when you hold it,” one says. “The blades are super sharp and cut cleanly and easily.” Maybe best of all is that unlike many of the sets on this list, reviewers say they have had no issue washing these in the dishwasher.

“If you’re a professional chef, these likely aren’t the knives you’re bringing to work. If, however, like me you’re prepping and cooking two to three meals a day for your family, these are an excellent option,” writes one reviewer. And part of what makes these knives ideal for a home cook is their weight. “If like me, you’re looking for a quality, domestic knife that is lighter, and will help you effortlessly glide you through meal prep several times a day, these are a great choice,” one user writes, and another says it’s a “good weight especially for arthritic hands.” They are very sharp knives, and many others shared their cautionary tales of accidentally nicking themselves. But that’s not a bad thing: “Every cut is like a hot butter knife through butter, and will be for a long time if you take care of them.”

The durability of this “supersharp and heavy” set shocked and impressed reviewers. According to one, “I found myself buying knife block sets regularly because nothing under $200 lasts these days, until I purchased these. They are nice and weighed. Great quality and long lasting if taken care of property (hand wash and dry, don’t put in dishwasher or you could rust them). I am very pleased with these,” he says. Another reviewer — a professional chef for almost 20 years — previously thought that “you don’t get quality in an inexpensive knife set. This AmazonBasics Premium set really impressed me … This here is a quality product at a good price. Treat them with respect and they will last for YEARS.”

Read more: What do you write on a kitchen tea card?

Reviewers were impressed by this relatively inexpensive set’s ability to hold up to to pricier sets. One professional chef says, “I use high quality (read: expensive) knives at work all day. My budget-conscious fiance surprised me with these for the home. Needless to say, I was skeptical … So I put them to the test against my Miyabis. Incredible. I was truly shocked at how well these worked!” Dozens of reviewers also praised the sharpness of the blades, with one saying that even after six months, “They’re still the sharpest knives I’ve ever had and I haven’t even had to sharpen them since I opened them.” Others praise the knives’ weight, which “helps each slice come through nice and clean (and didn’t squish the tomatoes down!).” People also like the included kitchen shears, which are both “very well made” and “fantastic.”

Nearly 9,000 five-star reviewers love the sturdiness of these stainless-steel-handled knives, which they say are easy to clean and incredibly durable. (The set also comes with two kitchen shears and a built-in knife sharpener.) One reviewer, who’s purchased many different sets of knives over the years, calls this “the best” one yet. “I really like that the whole knife is one complete piece. Knives I’ve had in the past are made with the handle being a separate piece and those would either get [water-damaged] or the handle would eventually crack or break off,” they explain, adding, “I would buy these again in a second!” Another reviewer also found their performance to be comparable to a nearly-$1,000 set. “My last roommate had a $900 set of knives … I thought these might be okay, but not even close to the expensive set I was used to using,” they explain. “Not so! These are very sharp stainless-steel knives,” with “no wooden handles to worry about breaking.”

More affordable than the 15-piece set above, this stainless-steel set also gets praise from reviewers for its sleek design, sharp knives, and included scissors and sharpener. “The set is amazing,” begins one reviewer, who says the knives are “SO sharp … and very lightweight, but the handle is sturdy enough to give you control while cutting everything from onions to steak.” Another says they’ve “had this set for several months now. One thing I love is it doesn’t take up a lot of room on my kitchen counter. The black color is nice, it doesn’t look cheap, and the knives and scissor are sharp.” A third reviewer says that the knives “cut with such precision,” but the set still looks “nice and stylish” in their kitchen.

Reviewers say this knife set’s wooden handles and block make it an exceptionally attractive addition to any countertop. “I’m really impressed with these knives. The wood is very attractive, and with a mineral-oil treatment it looks even better,” one such reviewer writes. “The blades are very sharp and slice through both vegetables and meats with ease. I hand-wash them and have had no problems with rusting at all.” Reviewers also appreciate the included carving fork and external knife sharpener — though several warn that you may not even need to use the latter. “Um, so everyone in the house now has a new scar from the first time using these knives and not expecting how they cut literally everything like butter,” one reviewer says, adding that they “peeled a damn watermelon with these like it was a kiwi.”

This more affordable set is considerably smaller than the brand’s 16-piece set above, but reviewers find it just as stylish and sharp. One reviewer, who says that they’re “pretty particular about chef knives” and “weren’t expecting much,” reports that they’ve since used all the knives in the set, and “enjoy the feel and balance. I would buy these again.” Another home chef purchased theirs as an upgrade “from the random assortment of cheap knives I bought in college,” and is glad they did. “The wood handles and solid feel overall make it easier on the wrists to cut food,” they say, adding that the knives are so good that they’re planning on returning a more-expensive set from Cuisinart that they received as a gift. And a third reviewer describes the knives as “surgically sharp and very comfortable to use,” adding that they “cut VERY well.”

“I am a total knife snob and these knives are THE BEST,” writes one reviewer, who says these knives “genuinely bring me joy on a daily basis.” He lost a $300 set during a move and “didn’t want to cough up” that much money again. After buying these a little reluctantly, he writes,”I can honestly say that at half the price these knives are just as good as the alternatives. The steel is high-quality, they hold their sharpness, they’re well balanced and comfortable to hold, plus I love the modern glass knife block.” There are benefits to that glass block, other than aesthetics. Another customer explains: “It makes more sense than any other knife storage I’ve seen. First, the blades aren’t resting on anything. Unlike traditional wooden blocks, it’s terrifically easy to clean. Just take the top rack off, unscrew the tops of the pillars and it comes apart.” He likes the knives themselves, too, calling them “the best knives” he’s ever owned. “The knives worked like magic. They are very sharp, but if you handle them with care, they do the work for you,” says. One thing to remember, “don’t put wet knives in” the stand warms another reviewer. “They’ll cloud the inside of the glass.”

This set, as one reviewer writes, is made up of “extremely sharp and professional grade knives.” Another discerning reviewer says, “I was looking for forged Zwilling blades, made in Germany. These feature ice-hardened, stamped blades. When blades are hardened in this manner they’re more durable and long-lasting than regular stamped blades. You’ll immediately notice that the blades stay sharper for longer and will hold their edge.” Another reviewer praised that “you can just feel how well they are put together.” Yet another satisfied customer raved that “the knives are lightweight, well balanced and the handles are ergonomically well designed for a very comfortable grip, helping to lessen fatigue if doing a lot of prep work. I was surprised by how light [but also] sturdy [they are] thanks to German steel and Henckels tempering process.”

Japanese-made Global knives are a longtime favorite among chefs, knife sellers, and even Strategist editors for their supersharp blades and lightweight, ergonomic handles. That may be why more than 200 Amazon reviewers give this three-piece knife set — which includes a 3.5-inch paring knife, a five-inch chef’s prep knife, and an eight-inch chef’s knife — five out of five stars. But you don’t have to be a well-seasoned chef to add them to your knife block. “I just now started cooking — more specifically for a Whole30 [diet] — which is a whole lot of fruit and vegetables,” one reviewer who swapped out their old kitchen knives for these ones writes. “This set is PERFECT!” They use all three “every single day,” and are “so thrilled with them. Things that were once hard to ‘saw’ through such as lemons and sweet potatoes are now like cutting butter.” Another reviewer likes them so much they even gifted a set to their co-worker. “I absolutely love my Global knives. They look and feel great in your hand. Slicing, dicing, cutting, and chopping are a breeze.”

This beginner-friendly set is “a perfect knife for anyone who wants to start cooking for themselves, but isn’t a pro and not ready to invest in one of those reality kitchen knives that cost $100 or more,” writes one reviewer. Many others agree. Like this one, who says, “If all your cooking for is one or two people, then you don’t need something that can slice through a tin can in two seconds anyway. That’s too much knife for too little a job. So, for the price, the Zyliss is probably the best value you can get for something that approaches a serious chef’s knife.” These knives are easy to use, too, reviewers say. “The light weight is nice and the shape of the handle keeps my hands from cramping when I’m chopping a large batch of sturdy veggies,” says one. “The chef knife style blade is deep enough that I don’t have to worry about smooshing my knuckles into the cutting board, either.”

If you prefer a knife set with sheath covers that are still made of stainless steel, reviewers praised this one highly. “These blades are great, the sheaths are sturdy and look great,” says one shopper. “The knives fill and kitchen related task you may have. The orange knife is personally my favorite, cuts through all kinds of things with no effort needed: bacon, lettuce, tomatoes, my thumb, this thing cuts through anything.” Reviewers also said the knives were could withstand dishwasher cycles. “I bought these a while back and they are still holding up great, even with daily use and running them through the dishwasher. Love them,” says one shopper. And one reviewer, who isn’t sure the knives are actually stainless-steel, writes, “I do know that I kept one of these knives in water in my sink for two days, yes, I am ashamed, LOL, and nothing rusted.”

Read more: How to Organize Your Kitchen Cabinets and Pantry

Reviewers have sliced through fruit, bread, “Havarti cheese with no problem,” even a case of water bottles (though that reviewer “cut not only through the plastic casing, but also one of the water bottles themselves without even realizing it.”) To put it simply, this set of six knives is sharp. Similar to the AmazonBasics set, these are also stainless steel with a colorful coating — but they are slightly less non-stick. Nonetheless, many reviewers say it does “a great job of not sticking to food while slicing.” Lots of reviewers like the matching sheaths, too, which both protects users’ fingers and the blades themselves. But these Farberware knives can still take a bit of a beating: One reviewer has “spent a fortune over the years on beautiful, sharp knives” keeps coming back to these, because, “They are sharp and I abuse them, throw them in the dishwasher, and hack away.”

“Sharpest knife I’ve ever had in my house,” says one reviewer. “Cuts great and the ceramic coating makes sure nothing sticks to them, which makes them easy to clean.” Many other reviewers like the ceramic coating on these stainless-steel blades. “This was my first set of ceramic coated knives,” says one. “I will never go back to regular steel. These are great.” Others love the colors. “These knives have gorgeous colors, and they WORK,” one says, admitting their old roommate influenced them to get this set. “I was thrilled to see this set because I actually like these colors more personally. The sheaths are a wonderful addition to keep them sharp but I particularly like them because our knife drawer is just that much safer to reach into in a hurry.” Another reviewer says, “The color is so nice. It doesn’t peel and it’s so great to be able to identify my utensils among all my roommate’s stuff!”

Parents with little helpers in the kitchen love these kid-safe knives. They are plastic, so they are little finger-proof but strong enough to actually be effective. “They cut surprisingly well, through fruits like apples and pears, through shea butter, cocoa butter, bread, and other things,” one parent says. Another writes, “Don’t expect a fine chop or slice, of course, but kids can definitely help rough chop veggies and protein.” And while one parent said there is a bit of learning curve for kids, they eventually get the hang of it. “Took the kids two or three times of me really getting in there to teach them how to use and hold the knives and food, but they’re cutting their own strawberries pretty proficiently now after a couple weeks of practice,” they say. Kids as young as two can even do it according to one reviewer: “My 2-year-old cut her bananas and her strawberries without any issues. My 4-year-old cuts up fruit and sandwiches.” And while the consensus is these knives are kid-safe, many parents still suggest some supervision when using them.

Shoppers looking for something more portable than a knife block said this roll set was a “game changer.” One shopper praised the bag for its “heavy canvas” material, and another says they were “impressed by how much it holds.” A third reviewer, who brings this on his bike commute to his job at a restaurant, writes, “I’ve been in the food industry for more than ten years. This knife roll is awesome and for a very affordable price. You can fit all this and a bit more if you organize it … for this price and quality it can’t be beaten.” But even just parents who like to cook will appreciate this space-saving option: One reviewer reports that after giving this roll set to his dad, “ He cried with a smile I haven’t seen on his face in a very long time when he opened the roll and began looking at and handling each knife. Highly recommend.”

The Strategist is designed to surface the most useful, expert recommendations for things to buy across the vast e-commerce landscape. Some of our latest conquests include the best women’s jeans, rolling luggage, pillows for side sleepers, ultra-flattering pants, and bath towels. We update links when possible, but note that deals can expire and all prices are subject to change.

Every editorial product is independently selected. If you buy something through our links, New York may earn an affiliate commission. The Best Knife Sets on Amazon, According to Reviewers

Source: https://livingcorner.com.au Category: Kitchen

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