#i didn't know what to draw for it so i went for the bachelor i usually go for

[izzybluebell]

a little sketch sheet of a bunch of things im a big fan of

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Job Swap

“Oh it's beautiful!” exclaimed the customer waiting in line. I handed her a nicely decorated cake for her son's birthday.

“It's no big deal. Just doing my job.” I acted like it was no big deal, but really I was gladly accepting the praise!

“This is perfect though. Have you considered being an artist?” she replied with a slightly more serious look.

“Yes I have actually…but the job market is tough.”

“Aww you'll get there eventually! Don't give up! Well anyway, you made my day so for that, thank you!”

“You're welcome.” I was a bit sad though, because she was right; I SHOULD be an artist. I recently earned my bachelor's degree, but yet I was still stuck in this dumb hick town, working as a grocery store cake decorator. I may have been good at what I do but I wouldn't want to do it forever!

At least my co-workers are pretty decent, especially my fellow bakery buddies, Chase, Amber, and Domingo. Amber was cool and didn't take anyone’s shit, which is why I loved seeing her because I didn't have much confidence when dealing with unruly customers. Domingo was very sweet, and even though he didn't speak very good English, he's hella good at his job. And Chase, well…he's hot! His bleach blond hair somehow always caught the light at a perfect angle. I don't know how I even kept my focus when he's working next to me.

At the end of my shift, I clocked out, and decided to buy a couple groceries like I normally did. I scanned everything at the self-checkout, put the receipt into one of my bags, and started walking towards the exit. The store had 2 exits on either side of the front, but I only took one because the other had a certain asshole at it - Richard.

The greeter position was removed a long time ago, but they bring it back for employees that have been injured or are too old, so that they can keep their jobs. Now this old guy named Richard had surgery a long time ago and became the greeter while he recovered. But yet he never went back to his old position.

He always stays at one specific entrance, and the reason I hated him so much was because he's racist. Part of his job has him checking customers’ receipts to make sure they didn't steal anything, which seems pretty unnecessary when you have those anti-theft machines at the exit. But I've seen him. The only people he checks the receipts for are minorities. It's not a subtle thing either; he’s super friendly, greeting and saying goodbye to all the white people passing but when it comes to someone who's not, his demeanor suddenly changes. 

My luck must've run out today, because I found the sliding glass doors at my usual exit were broken and currently being fixed. The area was blocked off by a barricade, and I knew there was only one other way to leave. I headed over to the other exit, and there Richard was, waving goodbye to a white mother and her toddler. He was wearing his typical gray uniform shirt that was clearly too small, because you could see his gut and nipples trying to poke through. Gross.

I moved through the aisle, trying not to draw attention to myself, but it was all for nothing because right on cue, Richard walked up to me and gave a great big (and so obviously fake) smile.

“Hello sir, can I see your receipt please?”

“Richard, it's me, Marco. I work in the bakery. You've seen me a million times before.” His smile suddenly faded, and his eyes narrowed, as if every ounce of happiness in his body just vanished.

“That's no excuse. How do I know you aren't stealing?”

“Because I want to keep my job?”

“Don't backtalk to me. You seem awfully suspicious today.” He then reached for his walkie talkie and started to page a manager. I really was able to walk out with no repercussions because I truly didn't steal anything, but there's a chance he would page the Asset Protection lady, who was almost as awful.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Nobody answered him. Thank god.

“Am I free to go now?” I said happily. The anger returned to his face.

“Just don't let me catch you stealing again. Or there'll be consequences!”

“Yeah…suuuure.” I walked out the door, into my car, and back home. I can't believe some people honestly. I was so sick of this town! I needed to move away real soon.

When I got home my dog, Kenny, was excited to greet me as usual so I let him outside to do his business while I got into my running clothes, prepping for a run. As I let Kenny back in, I went to check the mail and found a weird envelope in between the bills and spam. I opened it up and it was a letter addressed “to whom it may concern”. I threw it away without a second thought but Kenny suddenly ran up to the trash can, took it out, and placed it back in front of me.

“You really want me to read this, don't you boy?” I said cheerily as I patted him on the head.

“To whom it may concern,

Are you struggling with your current job? Unhappy with the life you have? Well I have just the cure for that! We are now selling happiness inducing coins for only $1 with free shipping! One flip of this coin will guarantee you will soon get a job you love! Get it fast before it all runs out! Just follow the link on the back of this letter if you are interested.” - VV

I wondered who or what VV was supposed to be, and $1 with free shipping sounds too good to be true, so this seemed like a scam. I also wasn't a superstitious person,  but for some reason my gut was telling me that this was a good idea. Kenny seemed to think so too as he was wagging his tail under the table and I read. I followed the link listed on the back of the page, typing in each random letter and number combination into my phone and ordered the lucky coin. I went to bed that night feeling a little more hopeful.

The next day at work was just like the previous day, only the door was fixed so I didn't have to walk out the exit Richard was standing at. We did make eye contact though, and he shot me a dirty look. I got home to find that the package had already arrived, which was awfully quick. I cut open the box and inside was a golden coin with a picture of a brain on it. The other side had a picture of a person with their arms spread wide. It was a really weird design. I read the instructions.

How to use:

Flip the coin

No matter what side it lands on, you'll be guaranteed happiness in your new job!

It sounded so lame, but I followed the instructions anyway. I flipped the coin the air, and slapped it on the back of my other hand. Tails. Nothing happened. I guess it was just $1 so it wasn't a huge waste of my time. It's pretty cool looking so maybe I could display it on my dresser or something.

I felt especially tired the rest of the night, but I was fine because I had a day off tomorrow. I was gonna go to the park with Kenny, as well as do a few errands. I was just glad I had time away from my job.

The next morning my alarm went off for some reason. I must've accidently set it by mistake. The weirder thing was Kenny wasn't there. Normally at the sound of my alarm, he comes running from wherever he was sleeping, and jumps on the bed to get me up. But there was nothing. When I started to truly wake up and become more alert, I realized that my alarm was set to the default or something. Instead of my usual calming piano, it was an annoying ringing. I opened my eyes to see what was happening. My vision was blurry, but I could tell I wasn't in my own room.

What happened? Did someone kidnap me? The alarm clock wasn't even on a phone, but rather it was an actual alarm clock. I had no idea what was going on, but I reached over to turn it off so I could think. I'm certain I must've been kidnapped somehow but why? And why would they set an alarm clock? I couldn't see but felt around the nightstand for a clue and found a pair of glasses. When I tried them on, just like that, my vision returned to normal. I had perfect vision before! Why did I suddenly need glasses? I reached up to scratch my head and found my hairline was incredibly receded. I was balding! I looked down with my now clear vision to find an even worse fact. I was chubby!

I sat up and stared at the foreign gut and two large man tits, as well as numerous graying chest hairs. I ran my hands through the hair, pinching them to make sure they were real. I pinched the tits as well, and felt sensations I've never felt before as they wobbled when I let go. I ran my hands through my face and felt a mustache and double chin, and began feeling nauseous at the thought of what I actually looked like. I didn't see a mirror in the room so I walked out the door trying to find a bathroom. The fat jiggled all around as I ran.

I got to the bathroom and nearly puked on the spot when I saw who I was. Richard. Oh god no. Of all people, I had to look like this racist bastard? I stared at myself and grazed my hands along my face. Suddenly I felt angry and started pinching it instead, as if I was doing the same thing to the real Richard, but denial didn't help; that was my face and it hurt. I touched his mustache and pinched it, as if it would come off. 

Just then I heard the doorbell ring. I didn't want to interact with anybody looking like this but until I figured out how to fix it, I knew I had to pretend to be Richard. I answered the door to find the mailman.

“Howdy Rich! Woah uh.” He stared at my chest. I forgot I was still shirtless. Having this much fat hanging from my body was almost like answering the door naked. “I see you've lost some weight!” he said, obviously lying.

“Oh uh, thanks.” I replied, trying to imitate Richard’s voice, which was pretty easy considering I've mocked him before.

“Well anyway, not much today; just a letter.” He handed me a letter with a purple stamp on it.

“Well uh see you tomorrow!” The mailman went on his way and I closed the door. I opened the letter and found a note similar to the lucky coin advertisement.

To whom it may concern,

Good morning! I trust that your lucky coin worked well? Welcome to your new life! As promised, you now have a job that you love. Unhappy with the results? Just flip the coin once again, and make sure it lands on what it landed on before! If not, however, your fate is sealed. Best Wishes! - VV, Venefica Viola

Shit. They're not lying though. Richard did love his job. And since I was in his body, I now had that job! But who is this Venefica Viola? It sounded like Latin somehow. I walked back to the bedroom to find Richard’s phone. Luckily he didn't have any lock screen pin so I could easily get in. I searched for a translator, dodging the random pop up ads that were everywhere on his phone and looked up Venefica Viola.

Violet Witch. So magic is involved somehow. I needed to get my coin back so I could undo this! It must still be at my own house. Shit! I just realized why the alarm clock went off. Richard worked today! He had perfect attendance and never uses his PTO, so not going in was gonna look suspicious. I glanced at the clock and realized I only had 20 minutes. 

Even though I'd love to see Richard be humiliated by going to work in his underwear, I decided that it wasn't worth attracting attention so I looked through his clothes to put on a work uniform. I found a pair of boxers and accidently flashed myself when I completely forgot I didn't have my own dick either. It was all wrinkly, but honestly a lot bigger than I thought. No. I was not about to get horny over Richard's dick! I found what he normally wore to work and put the rest on. I found tucking the shirt was more difficult than usual, as I had to pull it over my belly.

I guess I could make this work…for now. I hated to admit it, but Richard wasn't all that bad looking. It was his personality and habits that made him so repulsive, but now that I was in control of him, he didn't look all that bad. Maybe I could even turn things around for now and do something nice for the people I know he hates. I grabbed the car keys on the nearby table, and drove to work.

I walked in the store, put Richard's nametag on, and clocked in. I nearly started walking to the bakery area but stopped myself. I guess I'm really going to have to be a greeter for a day. This feels humiliating. I made my way to the front entrance and just stood there, waiting for customers to enter or exit.

Soon enough customers began arriving and I tried my best to act like Richard, though one customer asked if I was all right because I guess I overdid it. I didn't ask any customers to show their receipts though, because I might as well take advantage of being a greeter. I noticed Domingo at the checkout and when he bagged up his groceries, he approached me first instead of the door. He hastily grabbed his receipt and started showing it to me. I wasn't about to let this happen.

“No no it's ok. You don't have to show me the receipt anymore.”

“No?” He looked shocked.

“Checking receipts is stupid anyway. I don't need to do it anymore.”

“Really? I can go?”

“Yep! Have a good day.” It was unnerving seeing him so scared at the sight of me, but he smiled like normally did as he put the receipt back in the bag and walked out.

As I moved towards the break room to take my break, I noticed someone who looked awfully familiar walk through the door. It was…me! I mean Richard. It must've been; if I was in his body, he must've been in mine. It became more obvious by the way he was walking, taking big steps as if he was used to having his gut swinging around…like mine was now. God I hated this. I had to talk to him to sort things out. He smirked as I approached.

“Hey!”

“Oh it's you. I mean me. I mean,” he paused for a second and rounded his mouth into an even bigger smile, which looked uncanny with my face. “The old me.”

“What do you mean ‘the old you’”?

“Well seeing as I'm much younger now, while you're much older, I think the term is appropriate.”

“Well yeah, but not for long. I'm going to switch us back.”

“Oh no you're not! I may have preferred being white, but I’m enjoying youth again! Oh, and don't worry. I saw that coin thing and that letter this morning, and I made sure it would never see the light of day again. You got that…Richard?” 

He called me that in the same mocking tone that I always use to call him. I can't believe this!

“Y-you can't do this! I had a future!”

“That's my future now old man. You know maybe I could be a model with these looks. Maybe make one of those, what do you kids call it? OnlyFans?”

God no, I'm an artist, not a pornstar. He can't do this!

“The greeter is a real fun job, Richard. Enjoy it. You're hired!”

[adore-laur]

RENDEZVOUS

— a steamy flashback from the dadrry universe about harry as your fiancé 💍

——

After another shot of vodka went down the hatch, you still didn't qualify yourself as drunk. Tipsy was the more accurate feeling since every shot you had taken in the last ten minutes hadn't quite affected your bloodstream yet. The fifth one was being poured already. Or maybe the sixth. It didn't really matter since letting loose was what bachelorette parties were made for.

The event was being held in a small theater in downtown San Francisco, occupied by you and your friends, to celebrate the last few weeks before you officially became a married woman. A drag show was the extravaganza for the evening, and it was currently the intermission, so everyone was out of their seats drinking and catching up with each other.

You and Harry had needed a getaway amid the final phase of wedding planning. The both of you were staying at the Ritz-Carlton for the weekend, and it was nice to take a breather from the stress of the big day coming up. In the weeks leading up to the mini vacation, you had decided it would be perfect to have your bachelorette party in the scenic city. Most of your friends lived in surrounding areas, so you sent the invites out and hoped everything worked out. It clearly did because everyone was buzzed and having the time of their lives. 

Your throat hurt from loudly cheering on the drag queens who had just performed. The tiara on your head with a tiny veil attached was slipping off, and the bride-to-be sash across your body was getting wrinkled, but you couldn't care less. Happiness and love exuded from your friends who had come to carouse with you.

Harry had proposed a little over a year ago after he cooked a fancy New Year's Eve dinner and led you to the backyard at midnight to get down on one knee, popping the question with shaky hands and watery eyes. You were incredibly thankful it hadn't been a grand display in public. It had been just you and him at home under the string lights, with butterflies breaking loose in your stomach.

In planning the wedding, you had vowed to him that you wouldn't be a bridezilla. You'd allow him to have equal insight and let him completely take the reins regarding the food that will be served since it's his forte. Overall, the process hadn't been too draining. You worked well as a team, and he was always open to suggestions and last-minute changes of plans. The final touches would be put together once you came home from the trip. Then, it would finally be time to marry him.

"Did you leave Harry alone in the hotel room?" asked your friend, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah, but I'm sure he'll find something to do," you said. "He can never sit still for too long."

She carefully fixed your tiara. "When's his bachelor party?"

"Next weekend. He's having it at the restaurant he works at."

"Not at the strip club?" she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

You laughed. "He's mature enough to understand that I find it suspicious when guys go there for their bachelor party. Some call it their last night of freedom. How weird is that?"

You had nothing against strippers, but you thought it was reasonable that you'd rather have Harry spend his night somewhere else to celebrate his, you know, commitment to you.

"You're marrying such a gentleman. It makes me jealous," she said with a playful nudge. She wasn't wrong, so you just shrugged smugly and sipped your fruity cocktail.

Gasps and excited clapping suddenly stole your attention. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the stage, watching the red velvet curtains draw back once again. Shuffling to your table, you smoothed down the back of your dress and sat.

The lights dimmed as people who worked at the venue began rolling a black piano onto the stage. You wondered what it would be used for since the drag queens earlier had strictly danced and lip-synced to music booming from the speakers. Other instruments were also being brought out—guitars, drums, and even a saxophone.

Growing more confused by the second, you turned around and stared at your friends around the room to see if they knew what was happening. All you received were mischievous smiles.

Before you could ask questions, you were abruptly pulled out of your seat and led to the front of the stage as people situated themselves by their respective instruments. You leaned into your friend and asked, "What's going on? This doesn't look like a drag show is about to happen."

She smirked and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Let's find out."

You didn't reply because the band started playing jazzy music as the stage lights turned on, revealing quite a modern setup for what you knew was definitely not a drag performance. A spotlight shone, and it began to move toward the left wings, where a silhouette of someone was waiting.

"Please give a warm welcome to Harry Styles!" introduced the saxophonist.

You just about choked on your Mai Tai.

Your vision finally focused on Harry as he strutted out wearing yellow trousers and a button-up under a suit jacket. A tiny microphone was clipped to his collar, and you couldn't even begin to guess what he had planned tonight. He gave you no inclination that he'd be here. No subtle hints had been dropped in conversations with him, and no sneaky clues had been given by your friends. It was actually shocking, considering he was usually awful at keeping secrets.

Everyone cheered for him; whistles and encouraging hollers were thrown his way as he held his arms out and walked toward center stage. You were too taken aback to join in as you watched him cut the band off with a gesture before facing the room with his hands behind his back.

Was his hair parted down the middle?

"Thank you, thank you," Harry said with a bow, his deep voice echoing throughout the theater. "It is so great to be here hosting a bachelorette party for the first time."

Wow. He had jokes up his sleeve, apparently. Was he about to do a stand-up routine?

The applause and praise continued as you shook your head in disbelief, letting a huge smile take over your face at the unexpected surprise.

"This is new territory for me," he said. I'm very excited to step back from my chef duties and do some comedy tonight."

There was no way he was going to do a comedy bit. You couldn't believe he crashed your party with a fancy suit and a routine ready to go. He was talking to your friend group in the audience like he was giving a Saturday Night Live monologue. You were going to lose it if he started playing the piano.

"You see, my fiancée and I go way back. We met about three years ago at a bar." He finally looked at you. "I ordered a lemon drop martini, and she ordered a strawberry margarita."

A stagehand brought out a clear martini and set it on the piano, and another one came down the stairs and placed a pink-colored margarita on your table. Your face heated at the simple yet thoughtful act.

"We talked for hours until I drunkenly asked her on a date. You know what she told me?" A plethora of whats were screamed from the crowd. "She said, 'Ask me again when you're sober!'"

Everyone laughed, and you hid your face in your hands. That wasn't even a joke; you had genuinely said that to him. You were blown away that he remembered such a tiny detail.

"Ultimately, I'm a very serious partner," Harry continued as he began sauntering toward the piano, "and nothing says serious partner like learning how to play the piano to impress my fiancée."

Taking a sip of your margarita, you glanced behind you. Some of your friends were recording him with their phones, and you were glad this could be something you could watch repeatedly.

Harry sat on the bench and exhaled. "Ooh, that feels good."

You had to wave one of the fans the drag queens gave out to cool down. He looked unfairly handsome, he was playing the goddamn piano, and he kept giving you secret looks that made you sweat.

"Now... I don't know if you've heard, but I'm not a boyfriend anymore." He stared straight at you. "I'm a fiancé now." Whistles from your friends caused him to proudly smile. "I'm also going to be dad," he casually blurted. "We're going to have a baby."

The entire room gasped, and you gaped at him with wide eyes. "We're not," Harry added after a short pause. "Wouldn't it be crazy if we were, though?" Your friends were now shaking you and battering you with questions. Harry smiled before his face dropped comically. "We're not."

He teasingly raised eyebrows and smirked at you as if to signify that you were actually pregnant, although you were drinking alcohol. Hopefully, everyone knew that you'd never be that stupid. 

The girls were gawking at you, but Harry rolled his lips in and shook his head to remove the confusion. He continued playing the piano, and your cheeks hurt from laughing so much. He was doing such a great job, and you were genuinely trying to figure out how he had pulled all of this off.

"I love my fiancée; she's my best friend," he said smoothly. "She's hilarious, honest, caring, fuckin' beautiful"—he trailed off and furrowed his eyebrows—"and, uh... good in bed." You rolled your eyes as he puckered his lips at you, more cheers filling the room.

"Yeah, that's right." He blew out a relieved breath. "I'm so grateful she doesn't live with her mother anymore."

"Oh my God, Harry!" you yelled with a surprised laugh.

It was a more private joke that no one understood fully, but it was funny nonetheless. You had used to live with your mother when you started dating Harry, and you always had to be quiet when he'd come over because, in his early twenties, testosterone needed to be having sex with you at the most inconvenient of times.

He winked at you before resuming. "However, for me, it's not about how my fiancée is in bed, even though I'd consider myself very lucky in that department. It's about her soul and her heart. And in all seriousness," he added as the laughter died, "I truly believe her soul is my love language."

Coos and squeals echoed at his statement, and you shyly smiled. You were the one who had taught him about all the different love languages; he had told you once that he thought your entire soul was what his was.

"Maybe some of you aren't convinced I'm a serious partner. You may be asking yourself: Did he really take secret piano lessons to do this? Well, if in doubt, just ask the maid of honor."

Your head whipped toward your maid of honor, sitting at a table behind you. She waved with a proud smile, and you gasped when you realized he must've done piano lessons with her since you knew she had played the instrument for several years.

Harry hummed loudly while closing his eyes, bringing your attention back to him. "I love being here in San Francisco. So much history."

The band behind him cheered as Harry dramatically sipped his martini. You'd never seen him so in his element with something besides his job. The confidence in the delivery of his jokes, the comedic timing, the professional stage setup—it was something you'd never forget.

"I've learned so much this week. Here's a few secrets about the hotel we're staying at," he said gaily. "Did you know they gave us the haunted room because of how pale I am?" He shook his head with a boyish smile. "That is funny."

You chuckled at the awful joke because he was actually paler than usual. It was the end of January, and he hadn't gone outside much since it'd been cold and gloomy by the coast where both of you lived.

"The bed in there is so creaky that it sounded like that one night in Mexico!" 

Shocked gasps and bursts of laughter rippled throughout your friends in the audience. It was a harmless joke about how you had all gone on a couples trip a while ago, and your friends had heard you and Harry getting down with it in the hotel room. It had been terribly embarrassing.

Harry laughed. "Everybody thinks we're a couple that has a lot of sex. We don't; that's why she sleeps in a different bed than me at home."

Okay, now that wasn't true.

"Except tonight!" he shouted cheekily while pointing at you. "I mean, I think I'm just about ready to take her home with how she looks right now."

The girls at your table nudged you, and you began to get flustered. He was giving you that look again.

Harry cleared his throat and stopped playing the piano. "All jokes aside, thank you so much to everyone for celebrating with her tonight. You've all been wonderful friends over the years, and I can't wait to see you all at the wedding. It'll be terrifying, but I'm so ready. Also, thank you for bearing with my terrible jokes. Have a good rest of the night!"

You applauded along with your friends, some of them throwing leftover confetti from the drag performance earlier toward him. He brought his hands together and bowed politely as the band played a closing song.

Harry's cheeks were as pink as your strawberry margarita when he walked down the stairs with one hand behind his back and the other adjusting his suit jacket. He locked eyes with you and pursed his lips, trying to hold back a smile. Everyone stood from their seats to greet him, and the band came down holding bouquets of white iris flowers, passing them out to each of your friends.

You met Harry halfway and instantly wrapped your arms around his waist as he tilted your head up for a messy kiss on the lips. He coaxed and smacked kiss after kiss out of you until your friends started making fake gagging noises from behind. He eventually pulled away and removed his hand behind his back to hold out a bountiful bouquet of red roses that matched the color of your dress.

"For my lovely fiancée." He gave you the bouquet and then turned your head so his mouth was by your ear. "I've got a taxi picking you up after this is done."

You nodded and ran your fingers across his stomach. "Sounds perfect. That was so incredible, Harry. And the piano? I'm impressed."

"It wasn't too much?" he asked, shyly rubbing a knuckle under his eyebrow. "I didn't know if you'd appreciate me crashing your girls night."

"Are you kidding? That was the best thing I've ever seen. I'm so proud of you."

Harry blushed, and you lovingly pinched his cheek. "Thanks. I was nervous because your friends always make fun of my jokes. I thought they wouldn't laugh."

"We were cracking up. You did so good," you complimented. "How did you keep it a secret from me? I had no idea."

"I'll never tell," he said with a cute shrug.

You lightly slapped his chest. "I'll get it out of you one day. Are you staying for the rest of the show?"

"It's your night, baby. Go enjoy it with your friends," he said. "I'll be waiting in the hotel room. You should stop by for a little rendezvous."

Your tipsy mind missed his attempt at a joke entirely. "We're staying in the same room, though."

"Bloody hell," he said with a laugh. "How much alcohol have you had?"

"Excuse me, not even a lot. Mind your business. I'm having a great time."

"I'm glad you're having fun. That makes me happy." Harry adjusted your tiara and then softly pecked the corner of your mouth three times. "I'll see you back in the room, okay?"

"For our rendezvous?"

"Our top secret rendezvous," he murmured against your temple. "Don't go around telling anyone, all right?"

"Sure thing," you replied while squeezing his sides. "You can go now."

An offended scoff escaped him, and he cradled the back of your head and leaned in. "Watch your mouth. I expect you to behave when you get back."

You puckered your lips and hummed contemplatively. "But it's my special day; you said so yourself. I can say whatever I—"

Harry cut you off by pressing his lips to your bottom one, biting it with his teeth before pulling back. "I love you so much, but that attitude isn't going to fly with me tonight."

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, dad."

"I'm leaving before this gets weird," he said with a smile. "Be safe, have fun, and call me if you need anything."

"Now you literally sound like a dad."

"Shush," he said. "I love you. I'll see you soon."

You pecked his lips one last time, tasting the sour lemon residue from his martini. "Love you."

"Have fun, ladies," he called out to your friends. "Take care of her, yeah?"

They all nodded, and Harry hugged you before heading to the stage to shake hands with the band. Soon after he was gone, the lights in the theater dimmed again, and the curtains opened for the final portion of the show. You headed back to your seat, feeling exceptionally giddy.

The rest of the party went by in a flash. Wigs, pop songs, and glitter invaded your brain, and now you were ready to return to the hotel. The tone he'd used earlier had made a shiver run down your spine. Low, insinuative, and almost impatient.

It was a tone that suggested you were in for a treat when you got back.

——

The key card swiftly slid into the slot. Two chirp-like beeps sounded, indicating that it was unlocked. Opening the heavy door, you stumbled inside the hotel room in the black heels you had already started to unclasp in the back of the taxi. There was confetti stuck to the bottom of them, and it nearly made you slip on the hardwood floors. That, and there was also a trail of rose petals and tea light candles weaving throughout the presidential suite that you didn't remember seeing when you had left earlier. 

You giggled to yourself as you followed the trail to the bedroom. Oh, Harry. You had almost forgotten he was here.

When you walked through the doorway, the king-size bed came into view. So did your fiancé. Harry was sitting pretty on the silk sheets with a flute of champagne in his left hand as he looked out the window at the San Francisco skyline. He was wearing the same outfit from his surprise act not too long ago, but his hair had become messier, and his eyes were glassy from the bubbly liquid you noticed was already half gone from the bottle on the nightstand.

You crawled toward him on the bed, setting your bouquet down. "Hi. I'm back."

His gaze was focused on you. He granted no response as his lips took a sip of the pale and fizzy drink he held so delicately, the gold engagement band on his ring finger gleaming from the moonlight illuminating the room. A low groan escaped his mouth when you straddled his thighs and applied pressure to his already hard cock. He wasn't saying anything, but you knew exactly what would get him to speak.

"What's got you so hard, baby?" you asked softly, tutting. "Were you thinking about me?"

His lips twitched as he finished the champagne and set it on the ground beside the bed. "Like you don't fuckin' know. Look at yourself, darling. It's honestly a shock that I wasn't on my knees for you at the theater."

Your hands rubbed up and down his thighs. "I had a feeling you'd like this little number."

It had been a struggle to get through the door to leave since his touch had been all over you the second you put on the red satin slip dress.

"What about me? Do you like my outfit?"

Such a narcissist, you thought to yourself. You ground against him, and he let out a breathy moan. "I do. Apparently, no boxers are part of the get-up."

Harry closed his eyes and smirked. "I might have no boxers on, but there's something else you might find. I went and did some quick shopping while you were gone."

Your slowed thoughts tried to catch up to what he could have been hinting at. "Shopping, huh? What did you buy?"

His large hands kneaded your ass. "Take a look."

He leaned forward and guided your hand to the button of his trousers. You quickly flicked it undone as he removed his suit jacket and began undoing the button-up. His body lifted on the bed so you could slide the garment off easier, and he hissed when it brushed past his cock.

Slowly but surely, his legs underneath were revealed, and your face heated to a thousand degrees. Fishnet tights. His leg hair and tiger tattoo peeked out from under the crosshatch material stretched tight against his skin. The redness of his cock looked painful from its restraint under them.

"I might've bought a little something too," you admitted as you scratched his skin through the thin fabric.

"Yeah?" He jerked his hips when your fingers grazed the head of his cock. "Show me, then. Go on."

You sat on your knees and lifted your dress to reveal the baby pink garter around your upper thigh. "It's your favorite color."

Harry licked his lips as his fingers delicately rubbed the lace. "I see that, sweetheart. Anyone particular on your mind when you bought it?"

"Was there anyone on your mind"—you snapped the waistband of his fishnets—"when you bought these?"

He bit his lip. "You're the only one I think of. The only one I would wear these for. I would crawl on my knees to you wearing them if that's what you wanted."

"Is that so? Quite the visual."

"I'll do it if you want me to." He paused, a smile slowly creeping across his face. "We can practice the garter toss for our wedding."

You made a noise of protest. "We are absolutely not doing that in front of our families. It'll be so humiliating."

"Don't have to, because we can do it right now," he suggested. A nip was given to your neck before he climbed off the bed and grabbed a chair.

Your eyebrows arched. "What are you doing?"

"We're doing this the traditional way," he explained with a nonchalant shrug. "I have to go under your dress and take it off."

"Will you be nice, or will you tease me?"

"Which do you prefer?"

You swung your legs over the bed and sat in the chair. "I prefer the way that gets you inside me as soon as possible."

"Well, I'll let you know once I'm between your thighs," he said, kneeling on the carpeted floor and waving his hands for you to spread open for him.

"No tickling, or I'm staying in another room," you warned as you slid off your heels and parted your legs.

Harry started crawling toward you with his tousled hair and day-old stubble, only wearing his fishnets and unbuttoned dress shirt. He never broke eye contact with you until he reached where you were sitting.

Your satin dress was then lifted over his head. You could instantly feel his hot breath against your legs, his lips grazing every patch of skin he could find. He left an open-mouthed kiss over your underwear that was already damp, and you moaned when his facial hair rubbed against your inner thigh.

You suddenly felt his teeth grab the garter as he pulled it down to your ankle. He took it off the rest of the way with his hand, bringing it over your shoe and moving out from under your dress. He stuck it between his teeth again and removed his button-up. Green eyes stared at you, and you clenched your legs under his intense stare. His tattooed torso was on full display. He was so, so beautiful.

Harry grabbed the garter and slid it on his bicep before saying, "Stand up."

You got up and switched spots with him, standing in front of him while he sat in the chair. He crossed his legs, his thighs thickening even more under the fishnets. You walked over and parted them so you could straddle him. The chair was thankfully wide enough to fit both of your knees on either side of him. You could almost feel his cock throb as you started desperately grinding against him to offer relief.

"Baby, slow down. Shit, slow down," he said quickly, his hands gripping your waist. "I need to last. You'll make me come right now if you keep doing that."

Slowing down, you took your time with each grind on his thigh. The pressure of the muscle felt like heaven as your core clenched around nothing. "Is that better?" you asked, raising your dress to see how his body reacted underneath you.

"Yes," he choked out, his neck straining. "I need to be inside you so bad."

"How bad?"

"So bad. I'm fuckin' throbbing for you. Please get on the bed."

You squeezed one of his balls through the fishnets, his hips bucking. "Where does it ache? Tell me how to make it better."

"Get on the bed," he gritted. "I'm not going to ask again."

There was the dominance you wanted. You nipped his earlobe and crawled off his legs. He immediately stood, hissing as he palmed himself through his tights. You helped him take them off.

"Top or bottom?" he asked while closing the curtains. "My fiancée's choice."

"Neither. I want it from behind."

"Say less." He turned around, gripping his cock and squeezing it once. "On the bed. Now."

You quickly slipped your dress and underwear off and knelt on the bed, facing the headboard. Harry got in position behind you, his cock resting on your lower back. He moved your hair to one side and whispered, "On all fours."

You placed your forearms on the bed and arched your back so he had a good angle. "Open your mouth," he commanded. You tilted your head up and to the side as he leaned in to spit in your awaiting mouth. His saliva pooled on your tongue, and you swallowed it down willingly. "Good girl."

Harry then reached his arm out to hold onto the headboard. The engagement ring on his finger caught your eye, as did his veiny hand that tightly gripped the burgundy wood.

The first thrust was divine. Searing pressure filled your walls, and Harry whimpered into your neck at your instant clench around his cock. He continued deeply thrusting into you as he took the garter off his arm and put it around your wrists so that they were restrained in front of you. Your hips burned. Harry's other hand squeezed your breast.

"Go faster," you said as his hand trailed down to your stomach, his long middle finger lightly grazing your clit.

He pounded harder, his skin slapping as the headboard creaked from the force. He was hitting all the deep spots, his pelvis meeting your ass each time. Your hands gripped the sheets when he glided his fingers up and down your dripping core. His head was nestled in your neck, muffled groans and pants leaving him when you pushed up your hips with each new thrust.

He removed his fingers that were coated with your arousal and spread his palm on your lower stomach. "Can you feel me there?"

You nodded fervently, crying out when a deep trust had you literally feeling him in your stomach. "Holy shit, Harry. I feel you. Please don't stop."

He pressed down and rubbed your stomach, the knot from your orgasm growing and bubbling up quickly. In one swift movement, he brought you to a sitting position as his cock continued stretching your wet walls. His thighs were touching yours, and you could feel them tense and tremble as you got closer, clenching hard around him.

"I'm going to get your name tattooed on my thigh right here," he said, taking the garter off your wrists and moving one of your hands to touch his right thigh. 

You were too submerged in ecstasy to reply to his random confession. A couple more thrusts had you blindly reaching back to grab his hand so you could come. He held it tightly as you unraveled, arching against him from the pleasure leaving you.

"That's my girl," he said in your ear. "My love, my love, my love. So gorgeous, coming for me like this."

Your ears were ringing, and Harry eventually spilled inside you while you still clenched from your remaining orgasm. You felt his warm release shoot inside you, his hand still holding yours and his body falling on top of you as he groaned hotly against your cheek. Heavy breathing was coming from both of you. Harry finished coming but kept his cock inside you, with throbs and twitches happening every so often.

"If we weren't engaged already," he started, "I'd propose to you right now because that was the best I've ever felt. Wow. My body feels all tingly."

You groaned, his dead weight on top of you making it hard to breathe. "Get off me. You're sweaty."

Harry rolled over and stared at the ceiling with his hands clasped on his stomach. The dim light illuminating the room and the perspiration glistening on his skin accentuated the carved outline of his abs, and you couldn't help but trace them with your fingertips.

"Shower?" he asked.

"Please."

He got up and carried you toward the bathroom. Everything in there was white marble, and the brightness hurt your eyes. The shower was small but comfortable enough to fit both of you. You already took one in the morning, but it would feel nice after a long, eventful night. It would also help you sober up as much as possible so you don't suffer through a terrible hangover tomorrow.

After laying down a towel and setting you atop the sink, Harry turned on the shower. He took off both of your engagement rings and then stood in front of the mirror. He inspected his stubble while he waited for the water to heat up.

"Should I shave?"

"Why?" you asked with a sharp tone that had him immediately raising his hands in surrender.

"All right," he mumbled with a teasing smile. "Blimey, woman. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"What are you even saying?" you asked languidly. "I hate it when you speak old-timey British to me."

"Are you cheesed off at me now?"

"You're literally speaking gibberish." You hopped off the counter. "I'm getting in the shower. Goodbye."

Harry followed you and dove under the hot water, trapping you in a hug from behind. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" The soft skin of his stomach against your back had you melting into him.

"I don't want you to divorce me before we get married," he explained, kissing your jaw. "I'm just playing it safe."

"Harry, you're the only person who can annoy me and make me endeared at the same time."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yes," you replied, picking up the shampoo bottle you brought and handing it to him. "It makes me want to marry you right now."

He spurted a dollop of shampoo into his palm and began massaging it into your scalp with gentle and soothing motions. "I can't wait to marry you, either. Gonna treat you like a gentleman."

You lulled your head back, resting it on his collarbone. "You already do."

"I'll do it even more when I'm your husband, though. Make dinner for you every night and take you out on the town." He gravitated one hand toward your stomach. "Give you so many babies."

"Not so fast," you interjected with a dreamlike smile. "No babies anytime soon."

Harry filled the shower cup with water and poured it over your sudsy hair. "I hear you. Just know that I'm ready whenever you are."

"Let's get married first. I want you all to myself for a while."

"You always have me. That'll never change."

You turned him around so you could wash his hair next, opting for the same shampoo since he liked to steal it for himself anyway. After a prolonged yet comfortable silence, you asked, "Were you serious about tattooing my name on your thigh?"

"I'm dead serious," he replied. "I might even do it at my bachelor party. I work with a guy who's coming, and he does tattoos in his free time."

"But why on your thigh? It seems like a risqué place for it."

Harry turned his head and gave you a blank stare. "Would you rather me get it in a corny place like over my heart?"

You laughed, lathering shampoo in his curly hair. "No, not really. I guess you're right. It's kind of a secret spot for only us to know."

"Not unless I wear shorts all the time."

"Yeah, but thankfully, you wear pants every day at work. I don't want your coworkers to see that."

"Why not? I can't show you off anymore?" he teased, reaching back to pinch your side. "Wow, you propose to a woman, and suddenly she wants to be anonymous."

"Shut up," you muttered through a smile. "I honestly don't care. Just please don't get it inked in an ugly font."

Harry moved under the shower head, closing his eyes and slicking his hair back. "Well, it's a good thing I was going to ask if you'd write it out for me."

"Seriously?"

"No," he said in a deadpan manner, spitting out some water that had gotten in his mouth. "I'm thinking Comic Sans."

Poking the soft skin under his belly button, you said, "You think you're so funny now because you did a five-minute comedy routine."

He didn't provide a retort, but you saw him grin as he washed the rest of the shampoo from his hair. His nose was scrunched while he scratched his scalp and cleaned the foamy residue off his face.

After a peaceful moment of nothing but the sound of the shower water beating down, Harry opened his arms and brought you in for a hug. "I love you. You know that?"

You kissed his collarbone. "Where did that come from?"

"Dunno." He shrugged and cradled your head with his hands. "It hit me that we're getting married in a month."

It had been hitting you as well. You'd been waiting so patiently for the special day to arrive. "I love you," you said quietly. Thank you for tonight and every night. You make life worth living."

"Are you trying to make me cry?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

It fell silent as you stared longingly at each other with growing smiles. Harry slowly started getting closer to your face, his dimples carving deeper until his eyes crossed from how near he was. His forehead dropped against yours, and you rolled your lips in when he attempted to steal a kiss from you.

"How about another rendezvous, but this time we get in bed and fall asleep?" you suggested, reaching around him and shutting the shower off. Sporadic drips and exiting warmth greeted you.

He pouted. "Only if you kiss me."

"We've done enough of that today."

"You're really not going to kiss your fiancé after I just told you I'd give you babies? That's dire."

You laughed and admired a water droplet cascading from his pointed nose. "If you blow dry my hair for me, I'll reconsider."

Flinging the shower curtain open, Harry yanked a fluffy towel from the hook on the wall, then gently wrapped it around your body before grabbing one for himself and tying it low on his hips. The blow dryer next to the mirror didn't have a long cord, so you sat on the counter for easier access and squeezed any remaining wetness from your hair into the sink. Meanwhile, Harry covered the top of his head with a towel. He looked like the Virgin Mary.

You gave him a comb, and he took the blow dryer with his other hand, turning it on and gesturing at you to ensure it wasn't too hot on your skin. For the next ten minutes, the sound of the loud dryer filled the space. It would have been a stressful sound in any other situation—trying to dry soaking wet hair from the pool before dinner reservations or untangling knots from yesterday's sleep. This time, it was relaxing. Domestic. A moment in time.

The soothing scratches Harry gave to your head as he combed through every citrus-scented strand could have put you to sleep. The hotel room's air conditioner was cold and crisp, but occasionally, he'd lower the dryer so it blew warm air on your arms.

Before you knew it, the dryer clicked off, and peaceful quietness surrounded you. Harry's hair dried much quicker than yours, so he took off the towel on his head and tied some of his damp curls up in a ponytail for the night.

His hands planted themselves on either side of your legs. "Kiss time," he whispered, his arms taut.

You slid off the counter, finding yourself trapped by his body—not that you minded. Grabbing his left hand, you raised it to your lips to kiss his ring finger, then put his gold engagement band back on.

"My mouth is up here."

You grinned. "And? What about it?" Harry annoyingly pushed his forehead into your cheek, grumbling something incoherently. You pushed it away and asked, "What did you say?"

"I said I think I'll die if you don't kiss me," he repeated dramatically.

"What kind of kiss do you want?"

He once told you that he had favorites for different situations: a nip, tug, peck, tongue, or the type where you both smile so big that the kisses become messy and mixed with giggles. The latter was your personal favorite.

He hummed, his nose wrinkling as he pondered. "The one where you do all the work."

You laughed softly. It wasn't necessarily a joke he was making; he genuinely enjoyed it when your lips moved against his. Sometimes, he just wanted to be kissed silly. It was never awkward, nor did it feel like a chore. He was the most kissable person to roam the earth, so resisting was hard.

"Okay," you said, draping your arms over his shoulders. "Only for a little bit, though. I'm exhausted."

Harry nodded and lifted you, setting you on the counter again. Your legs circled around his hips. "I'll return the favor tomorrow," he said.

The towel on his waist was hanging on for dear life. His eyelids were lazily drooping from tiredness, and his skin was flushed from the steam. How could someone look so pretty in hotel bathroom lighting?

Your hand on his cheek gently guided him to your mouth. His lips were damp and plush from the shower, parting naturally with each of your doting kisses. With his nose nudged against yours, pleased hums came from his throat as you alternated between his top and bottom lips. Kissing him never gets old. It could be soft or rough, long or short, brought about by love or annoyance. It was a cure all the same.

After a slow and innocent onslaught of kisses, you pulled away before you ended up making out with him until morning. Bruised, aching lips could wait.

Harry whined in protest. "That was only, like, five seconds."

"Guess what?" You trailed your fingertips along his neck. "You have the rest of your life to kiss me."

He yawned while shaking his head. "That's not enough time. Give me forever."

"I'll try," you said fondly, sliding your engagement ring back on.

You would until children of your own were born, which required you to share that love. Until your children's children withdrew even more of it. Yet, despite that, Harry would always be the first person you had given your heart to completely. He had never taken advantage of it. He had never made you doubt his love for you. It was the kind of love that was immortal. It would never die out and would remain the greatest feeling you'd ever felt in this life and the next.

If evermore was attainable, you liked to believe it was made possible by loving him.

——

[aestherians]

Change and Loss

Word count: 1362

Expected reading time: 10-11 minutes

"If your otherkinity still serves you, it will never really leave you," is what I used to say - more as a reassurance than a statement of fact. I mean, how could I know for a fact that it was true? I didn't have any experience with losing a kintype. I still don't think I do; not really. And I always saw the idea repeated in the community - one time otherkind, always otherkind.

But I don't believe that's true anymore. I'm still a bison for sure. I've never doubted that. I'm still Ɐwhrayɐ the gnoll and I'm still Ben the shapeshifter… but I'm beginning to accept that those sides of me have changed.

"One time otherkin, always otherkin. If your otherkinity still serves you, it will never really leave you"… but what if that's not true? What if you still benefit from your kintypes, and they disappear regardless? What do you do if you lose a part of yourself, or if a part of yourself becomes unrecognizable to you? How do you keep living when you've lost yourself?

Sometime in 2023 the distress of always having to hide my true self became too much to bear alone. But I'm not a brave person. I think the better solution would've been to just bite the bullet and start expressing myself, but hindsight is 20/20. I've survived 25 years by hiding everything that makes me 'weird', and the idea of leaving my one dependable survival strategy behind was (is) terrifying. I went to a free self-help seminar ("Take control of your life!") but all it taught me is that I need a dependable support network before I can take control of my life. I went to my doctor to try and get a referral for a therapist (it's cheaper than just finding your own therapist). Instead he sent me to a psychiatrist for my 'delusions'. The psychiatrist told me my experiences, worldview, and self-perception were unusual but not harmful - they could only help if my goal was to get rid of my schizotypal traits (traits that weren't even significant enough to warrant a diagnosis). If all I wanted was to learn how to conquer my fears and express my true self, they couldn't help. It took months of visits to get the diagnosis: Traumatized by peer abuse, too poor to afford my own therapy, and too anxious and ADHD to even find a therapist in the first place.

I can't even say I was left at square one. I had started out hopeful. Nearing the end of 2023, I just felt helpless.

At the same time, my studies were drawing to a close. I completed my bachelor's degree in animal science and all it took was a diagnosis of ADHD so I could legally buy amphetamines, a compound-diagnosis of autism so I wouldn't get kicked out when I inevitably misunderstood exam questions and failed final after final, and 5½ years - almost twice the expected time for a bachelor's degree in my country.

It should've been freeing but instead it left me directionless. Helpless and directionless - that's how I entered 2024!

In the past, in the strictly structured day-to-day of school, my kintypes have been a source of comfort. Especially my Ben fictotype, which probably fell into the category of coping mechanism. I awakened in a time of intense stress and retreated to that world whenever my present life got too much. When crowds got me overstimulated or I missed an important deadline or fought with my neighbors or drifted apart from old friends, I thought about all the times Ben!me had gone through similar or worse. I cut off a friend in my present life after finding out he'd abused his ex - but in my other life I'd cut off a friend who tried to murder me, and things still turned out fine. I lived through it. I could live through it again. Every situation had a parallel in my other life.

I still don't know why that method failed me, but eventually it did. It's not that it didn't work, it was more that I suddenly had to put an effort into making it work. As if I'd always been able to enter Narnia and now suddenly I had to personally petition Aslan to let me back in. It started in the fall of 2023 but it wasn't until spring 2024 that I fully realized. Coping had never been an effort before, and the worst part is, I don't even know why it suddenly was.

My fictotype was drifting away, even when it still served me! This wasn't supposed to happen! Had I been lied to?!

I think our community has a lot of survivorship bias. Whichever mailing lists and newsgroups get archived, and whatever snailmail gets published, that's what our history is based on. The people who made archivable geocities sites get to write our story - not the people on closed forums or in private chat groups. People who leave the community don't tend to leave behind pristine essays on their fully archived websites explaining why they left. It does happen, don't get me wrong, but it's rare. And when they do leave behind messages, it's usually some variant of "I still love the community that fostered my awakening, I'm just an adult with responsibilities now and I don't have time for this."

But what about the people who don't love the community? Who 'unawakened'? Who aren't passionate enough to leave behind a final message? Do we ever hear from the otherkind who 'fizzled out' and became human - or at least lost a kintype?

You can understand my panic, right? I considered turning my fictotype into a copinglink, but my ADHD is so debilitating I barely remember to brush my teeth - no way I was gonna remember to do daily reinforcement exercises. Especially frazzled 2024 me (still frazzled as of June but I'm hanging in there!).

I was forced to accept whatever my come.

I'm still Ben, on some level, but I won't say "I'm thankfully still Ben," 'cause is it really that bad to not be Ben? Even if that facet had served me well and could still serve me? $1,000,000 could serve me well, but uselessly pining after it doesn't serve me.

I didn't prepare myself for loss because I really wasn't sure I was gonna lose a part of me - and, in any case, grieving preemptively is a waste of energy if you ask me. Instead a turned to the Bison - not my own bison theriotype, but the archetype of the Bison. When one woowoo solution fails, why not try another?

The Bison has always been a good teacher to me - better than any self-help seminar or psychiatrist. The Bison takes everything in stride. The Bison survives until it can thrive. The Bison ruminates on the present, it doesn't ponder the future. The Bison doesn't grieve or fret unnecessarily. It exists in the now. I exist in the now.

Of course, the chance that anyone reading this works with the Bison spirit is slim, but I think its teachings can help everyone - regardless of spirituality.

When turning to other worlds doesn't aid you, accept it, and turn to the present world. Let your worries pass through you, you can't see clearly when you're pent up with worry. You can't prevent the seasons from turning, all you can do is turn with them. Accept your lack of control, instead of trying to grasp at the uncontrollable. Sometimes change is unexpected, and you may not like it, and it might not even open up new doors for you. Not all change is good. But you cannot prevent every unwanted change, and you have to keep living regardless.

My fictionkinity doesn't have the intensity of my first few years post-awakening, but it also doesn't have the casual reassuredness of decade-old kintypes. It comes and goes, and when it comes it's like a whisper. And one day it might become too quiet for me to notice. One day it might not return.

But I think I can live with that.

[queenie-avenue]

I love the ceo/Adrian but can you do one of a yandere reader like you did for academic rival.

Pretty please 🥺

A Gentleman's Confrontation.

💌 ⤻ THE CEO, ADRIAN HOUDE

—> you're a creep, he's obsessed; a matchmade in hell!

⤻ reader is gender neutral, possessive thoughts, obsessive thoughts, crimes against the reader, invasion of privacy, typical yandere behaviour, filming without consent

notes: all ya'll are little creeps but i love all of you. thank you for saying please, anon. mwah!

🦋 ⤻ archives.

You had been obsessed with Adrian Houde since the moment you heard him compliment your name. Your heart practically swelled each time he came to check in on the fashion department, always managing to catch his eye and smiling at him shyly. You even went into his office a few times — unaware he was the one who personally requested you — to present the pitches for fashion shows and the budget needed for your department despite it being out of your pay grade.

You did it all so you could see his face.

So you could look into those hypnotising hooded blue eyes of his, so cold you could almost die from hypothermia when you stare at them.

Still, you always stared.

It started off as a little crush. You finding him attractive — who didn't, really — and unconsciously drawing him in your many sketches as a model.

Then, it turned a little crazy.

You started nabbing a few things each time you went into his office. A pen, a tie he abandoned on the chair, a crumpled buck that you saw him touch. It was all yours for the taking.

Still, you kept a distance from Adrian, ensuring he would never take things too personally. After all, he was the most eligible bachelor perhaps in the whole world, and you were just some low-level intern who didn't even get paid well enough to be in his tax bracket. So while you were delusional, you kept that side of you to yourself.

Till you were caught, of course.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

Adrian's blue eyes pierced into yours as both of his hands pinned you against the wall. His blonde hair tousled, framing his face perfectly. If not for the tense situation, you would have thought whether he had a hairstylist that did all this work for him or whether he was just that good.

“I've been watching.” His voice, clear as his icy gaze, spoke out. “Did you know there's a camera in this office?” He refrained from telling you about the cameras he planted at your desk.

“Oh.” Was the only thing you could say as your eyes went down to his lips, guilty of lusting for him, even now.

“I could get you fired for this.” He whispered, pursing his perfect lips as he leaned closer to you, head going down to your neck, to savour the taste of your scent. His nose grazing against your neck as you groaned. “Just what were you thinking?” He whispered, hot breath hitting your neck as he gazed at you. “It's like you're giving me permission to…” He didn't dare finish his sentence as you stayed there, pinned against the wall.

Knowing that you were just like him, that you liked to rummage through his things like he did to your desk when night fell; were you trying to kill him? He was a gentleman, he was taught to always be a good man to anyone he was romantically interested in, to be cordial and kind but you doing that just made him want to lock you up. You doing that was like you giving subtle confirmation you wanted him too, no? “I'm trying to be good for you.” He breathed out, one of his arms going down to your waist.

His eyes met yours and you swore you saw tears in his eyes. “I really like you, [y/n].” He confessed suddenly, causing your eyes to widen.

Of all the people you would have thought would have a crush on you in the office, it was the head honcho himself. The one you stole things from, the one who stole your heart.

“Those things you did, the things I saw in my camera… does that prove you like me too?” He felt himself cringe at his words, feeling like a high school student confessing to his crush. “Please tell me that's a yes, I've been waiting so long just to- just to-” Just him speaking was enough to drive your breath away. He was breathing heavily too, like being in your presence banished all thoughts of oxygen away from his mind; his brain focusing on you and only you, prioritising you over oxygen.

“You have to say yes.” It was like in that brief moment, the gentleman you had always know Adrian Houde to be suddenly disappeared, his warm blue eyes filled with frightening obsession.

“Say yes. Please. I won’t let you out of this office till you say yes.” Well, that certainly tempted you to not say anything. Being able to be trapped between his arms was like a dream come true, but you also desperately wanted him to be aware of your feelings.

“Yes. I like you too, I love you.” You stumbled over your words.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to say?” He asked.

You felt a sense of dread travel through your bones at his inquiry, forcing you to rethink your answer. However, your answer was clear as day, he wanted you and you wanted him. “Yes. I’ve been obsessed with you since the moment we met at that office.” You confessed.

Adrian’s eyes widened as he realised that you — his sweet intern, the light of his life — was also the same as him. No, you would never be the same. You would never be as unhinged as he would be for you. You had no idea just how crazy he was for you.

He could list down all the crimes and perverse things he did for you against his own morals.

He had stolen your notebook and scanned it just so he could fixate on your handwriting, he had installed a hidden camera under and on your desk just to see how your body moved, he had investigated every part of you to the point he could recite the measurements of your body from his mind. You would never be as crazy as he was for you, but it felt good to know you thought you were.

“Confirm it again.” He said, his gravelly voice turning cold like the times you had heard him talk during meetings; the perfect businessman. “If you do, I want to let you know that you won’t be able to leave my side. Even if you wanted to.”

You didn’t take his words seriously.

“I’m not playing, sir.” God, he loved it when you called him sir. “I really… do like you.”

He snapped and grabbed your waist and pulled you up, slamming your cute little butt onto his desk. “I hope you won’t regret this.” Adrian whispered as he ran a hand through his golden-blonde hair, another hand reaching for his tie and loosening it in a way that made your mouth water. "Because I'll make sure you fall so deeply in love with me we'll go tumbling to hell."

You didn’t even realise he was so close until it was too late and his lips claimed yours.

The kiss was sloppy and desperate, his tongue overlapping yours in a sensual dance. He licked your lips, you bit his, your tongues explored each other needily. His palm on the back of your head, holding you in place so you could not escape. Slowly, his lips descended down to your neck, hungrily licking and biting as you let out breathy gasps.

“You won’t be able to leave me after this. I need to take responsibility, and you do too.”

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Behind The OC Name

Thank you @kaitaiga @alypink @welldonekhushi @revnah1406 for the tag! Let's do this!

OKAY. I'm gonna turn into a bachelor of yappology here so bear with me ☝️🤓

🌹 Charlotte 'Jade' Le Jardin 🌹

Initially, I wanted to name her 'Roxanne'. Some of you might know this, but Jade used to be my original story's main character called Louisa. BUT, Louisa's initial name was Roxanne. I didn't know why, but elementary school me liked Roxanne so much (I didn't even know that it's also a song title by The Police back then HAHAH). I wanted a very recognizable name, but I think it was a bit much, so I switched to Charlotte because of Charlotte Bronte, the writer. Also, it turns out that 'Charlotte' means 'free man', it's pretty cool since Jade's story is mainly about breaking free from MI6's influence and shackles along with her parents. Meanwhile, Le Jardin was the result of Jade's family's occupation as a florist. I mean, it's a fake last name anyway as they were making an entirely new identity after escaping from MI6.

Jade was literally just because she had a green eyes, but I felt it's too cliche so I made an entirely new black division of MI6 where each agent is named of a type of ore/jewel. Plus, Jade is just easy to pronounce and recognizable, perfect for communication purpose!

🐞 Eleanor 'Ladybug' Graham 🐞

Eleanor's name came up just out of the blue from my mind. I drew Lady's design first, and then decided to make a name for her, and it's either Eleanor or Claudia, and I thought Claudia doesn't suit her at all, so I stayed with Eleanor. Eleanor means 'Light-hearted' or 'shining light', kind of goes along with her 'take-it-easy' attitude and how she's a medic and becomes the light of hope for the wounded. The surname Graham is literally just my obsession with Will Graham from Hannibal. My 14-16 year old ahh was obsessed with NBC Hannibal, and Will held a special place in my heart LOL.

When I created Ladybug, I knew I wanted a special and a cheeky callsign for her to pair with Gaz. I never really liked bugs, but I thought back then that a ladybug's shape and pattern is so damn cute and endearingly silly. So I just went with Ladybug. AND THEN, The NFC Championship 2023 game happened between 49ers vs Lions. Brandon Aiyuk caught a pass from Brock Purdy after the ball straight up bounced from Kindle Vildor's helmet, which resulted in a touchdown in the next play. At the interview post game, Aiyuk said "a ladybug landed on my shoe." JUST THEN I KNEW THAT LADYBUG MEANS 'GOOD LUCK'. And then the gears on my brain turned, and I can connect with how Gaz is always unfortunately hanging/falling from an aircraft, be it an airplane or a helicopter. The fact that he's always came out ALIVE after those events just tell me, there's gotta be a ladybug that's always with him 24/7!

🔥 Barandos 'Bara' Tarigan 🔥

For Bara, I just KNOW that his name's gotta be Bara because there's a celebrity chef from Indonesia called Bara Patirajawane, and it's such a sick name that I just had to make it into a name of my OC HAHAH. Bara also means 'fire embers' and it's pretty cool ngl. Tarigan is a Batak tribe surname (I'm half Batak from my name), so I just wanna have that element on my OC.

⏳ Silja Freyrsdottir ⏳

For Silja, I actually had quite a hardtime to name my OC. I didn't know what her appeareance yet, her story yet, and like what her role was in the God of War Ragnarok storyline. So I started to think of what goddess she was, and I wanted it to be close to Heimdall, so the Goddess of Memory and Remembrance it was. I then searched for that kind of god in the Norse mythology, and I didn't really find anyone that came close to what I imagined, so I just started from sratch. I sketched her character, and as I draw her I make up a story in my mind. Oh, she's an adventurer, a rogue princess, hmmm from what realm, Alfheim? Let's do that cuz I love Freyr. I wanted her name to be either 'Silja' which ironically means 'blind', or Ragnhild, which means 'battlecounsel'. QUICKLY I feel that Ragnhild sounded to professional for her adventurous character. Silja sounded so right, and her name could be like a contradiction to what her ability is, which is seeing people's pasts, but blind to the present (a flaw much like Heimdall's).

Tagging YOU 🫵 Reblog this with your OC's name lore!

[takaraphoenix]

This is going to be a deeply personal post that I want to share because I hope it can also be somewhat inspirational and motivational for others.

I started a new job a month ago and I deeply love it. I mean, genuinely love it. Love the place, the people, the work. I'm happy going to work and I find joy in what I do and time passes startlingly fast at work because I'm enjoying it. Plus, I make good enough money (sure, it could always be more, but it's already more than my last job which is great).

I honestly didn't think that was a thing. Growing up, I always thought that work is that thing you force yourself through for the sake of money. The requirement. I thought it was crazy when people claimed they liked their work. But damn, I love my work.

When I finished high school, I had no idea what I wanted to do. Fourteen years ago. And it's been a longwided and bumpy journey, but it brought me to a place where I'm happy and where I can see myself working for the next thirty years.

Not knowing where you want to go, or how you could get there, is incredibly, overwhelmingly frustrating. But sometimes, you just have to keep going and figure it out along the way.

(The more long-winded journey under the cut.)

I had no idea what I wanted to do after high school, partially because my school never really prepared us for what comes after.

Our local university is large, and it intimidated me beyond belief when I was eighteen, there was just no way I could go there.

But there was a small, private art school around where I lived and everyone always kept saying turn your passion into your profession, right? So sure, why not. Let's go to art school.

Four years later, I had a Bachelor's degree in art and had also fully lost my passion for drawing. It had become a chore. So I knew that... that wouldn't work out for me. I needed to find something different.

I've always admired the teachers who could inspire others and make you feel welcome in their classes and I was pretty good at teaching others, so I figured, maybe I could become a teacher?

I first signed up for English and Philosophy (with the goal of teaching ethics). I made friends in the first semester in both classes, but I had to switch out of English after one semester - mostly because the teachers were actually insane. They prided themselves in failing at least 10% of first semesters and made the beginning unnecessarily hard and no... fun. I think learning should be fun.

So I switched from English to German and, ultimately, after five years, got my Bachelor's degree in German philology and Philosophy. During the high-time of Covid. My last two semesters were exclusively spent in remote zoom classes.

The thought of becoming a teacher - of being in a room with thirty students for ninety minutes, before class ends and the next thirty students file in for the next ninety minutes, in an endless circle of hell - absolutely terrified me. Heck, the thought of going back to classes to get my Master's degree to actually become a teacher was already mortifying.

So, once again, I stood there, without a plan, but with a useless BA.

I didn't know what I wanted to do, to be quite frank. I was running out of motivation to find something new, because it started to feel like I was truly just failing one thing after the other. I was 29 and had absolutely nothing to show but two Bachelor's degrees.

I became a temp, after a year of unemployment, working in an office in an insurance company. And I liked it alright. The work more or less, but the feeling. Oh, the feeling of working in a small team in an office absolutely delighted me!

I lost that job at the end of last year and went back to being unemployed for half a year. Until a friend of mine, who was working at our alma mater as a secretary, told me about how happy she was working for our university and how she had also started there because she had no prior work experience and none of the required qualifications. She also told me that our university has its own job hunting website and that they never put their job listings onto foreign sites.

I went looking the same day, applied to a job that I got a job interview for but that didn't entirely fit for me. A week later, I applied to another one - and it fit like a glove. I got a job interview before the application phase even ended, I was invited to spend a day observing the work and was supposed to give a yes/no on whether I want to move forward with the process the next day, which I did. All I expected in return was a thank you and to be told when I might hear back to them after they saw other applicants. Instead, I got the job that very day.

During every single step, I felt like I was failing. After my first Bachelor, that seemed useless. After giving up on getting my Master and having yet another useless Bachelor. When I lost the temp job.

But every single step in my journey was... necessary, to get me to where I am right now.

Because I wasn't ready for our big university when I was 18, I needed the small, private university that eased me into college life to have the courage to apply to our city's big university.

And the friend who told me about the job website? I met her in my one semester of English. Yes, even years later, even though we were only together in one class during that first semester, we are still friends. And if I hadn't attempted my second degree - if I hadn't started out with and failed out of English - I wouldn't have met her.

If I hadn't gone to this university, I wouldn't have been eager or able to find a job there.

And if I hadn't had the temp job, I wouldn't have discovered my passion for office work.

Who knows, maybe there is an alternate life where I get on the "right" track when I'm eighteen and end up happy too, but for the life I have now, things worked out well and they only did because of every single thing I had failed or changed out of.

Sometimes, you do need the failures to learn from them, to draw something from them that will help you find your way later.

[the-fiction-witch]

How Much?

Media IRL

Character Thomas Brodie Sangster

Couple Thomas X Reader

Rating Smut

I hummed my little tune as I stood in the monochromatic bathroom and I got dressed for the work ahead. I have worked for this company for a good few years now. It was easy money. Some jobs could make a pretty fun night. The Odd Rich Boy Bachelor party Or Bankers Party bus could make you a few thousand pounds a night for really just showing up. I once had a man tip me a pair of Tiffany earrings just for serving his drink with ice. But I did like the small quieter jobs some days. It certainly was nice to have the smaller jobs as you always knew you'd get paid. This. Was one of my more favoured.

I left the little bathroom and headed into the little London house, the place well-decorated and recently renovated, littered with items most of which I didn't know much about. I had this job for about a year or so now, I was hired, as a maid my job was to come on every other Friday from four till six and clean the house topless in a little maid skirt. I suppose it sounds strange, but it's a fairly normal ask in this job. I don't question why people want me to do it, they are willing to pay me so I don't ask. Some people are just into that sort of thing. And it paid extremely well for what little work was actually required, Go around with a fluffy duster, push a vacuum around, wash the dishes with a bunch of soapy bubbles that sort of thing. I had met the guy who owned the house a couple of times mostly in passing but I didn't know much about him, Most of the time he wasn't here. He worked away a lot, but the house had a few of those little motion-detecting security camera's lot of people have for pets and often when I'd been over I'd get a tip from him showing that no matter where exactly he was in the world he would always take the time to sit and watch me work. What he does with the video's, Not my business. What he does do while watching them? well, I can imagine but again not my business. Today he was actually here and sat on the sofa reading some paperwork in jeans and a silk skirt so I smiled at him as I got my duster and began my work going around picking up all his little items and dusting the place all with him and sitting watching me. "Pass me a light would you maid girl," He asked, So I spotted a lighter on the table and went over to him as he had a cigarette hung from his lips so I clicked the lighter on and lit the end for him

"Here you are, sir." "Thank you very much," He smiled blowing me a kiss as I went back to work "I haven't been here while you work for ages. I've really missed you," "You've still seen me work," "Yeah, but it's not the same," He shrugged "I missed you," "I missed you too" I smiled as I kept working finding myself upstairs making his bed and he came and leant on the doorframe to watch me as I changed the sheets "y/n?" "Yes sir?" I asked "Just thomas you know that" "Sorry, Yes thomas?" "Bend over." "Yes Thomas" I giggled moving to bend over as much as I could and still work for a moment I was confused why but then it hit me as I caught the sight of the mirrored door on the wardrobe behind me, meaning as I bent over his bed he could watch my ass and pussy in the mirror "There all done" I smiled "Is that all for today Thomas?" "Actually, just before you go" He smirked putting his cigarette out on the ashtray on his chest of draws "Sit." He demanded pushing the centre of my chest so I landed on his bed "This all?" I giggled "I wanna look at you" he smirked “How much for you to spread your legs?” "What?" “How much for you to spread your legs?” "How wide?" "All the way." "A Hundred." "Deal." He smirked grabbing his phone from his pocket and fiddling with it a moment "Done." He smirked turning it to show me he sent it I smiled and did as he asked leaning back on his bed and opening my legs as wide as I could, he smirked leaning on the door frame and staring at me for a while "You're beautiful." he smirked “How much for you to finger yourself?”

"Really?" "Really" "It's expensive." "How much Maid girl?" "Eight Hundred." He glared a moment but opened his phone again "Better be worth it." "It is. I promise" "There you go" I smiled and took my hand to my mouth slipping my fingers inside warming them and licking them before I slowly pulled them out let my hand slip down my body and gently rub on my clit I gasped as I gently circled it playing with it softly before moving my hand down to slip two fingers inside myself, I moved my legs up higher and more apart so he had a better view as I worked pushing my fingers hard often making myself squeal or drip from the pleasure he watched eagerly for a while until he came sitting beside me on the bed he grabbed my wrist so he could control my hand making it go faster and harder as he whispered “How much for you to blow me?” "Depends" "On?" "How you want me." "Humm on your knees. Naked. sucking my dick maid girl." "one-fifty" "Ohh now that is a little too much." He said, "How much just to fuck your tits?" "Two." "Two? Why is that more?" "Messier" I giggled

"Fine." he smirked getting his phone and fiddling a moment and handing it to me as he began to kiss my neck moving his hand from my wrist to circle my clit hard as my fingers worked "You just put in, however much it's gonna cost me for you to get naked. lay on my bed with your legs open, and let me fuck you till I cum" "However much?" "However much it costs. You just type those little numbers in and and well go from there." "It would be a breach of my contract" "you think I care? If you get in any trouble I'll make you my little sugar baby that a deal?" "Deal" I giggled typing the number in and handing it back "Ohhh you are an expensive little thing" he smirked "Humm you worth it though" He smirked sending it through before throwing his phone and dragging me into an intense kiss

[honey-crypt]

Can you do bachelor/ettes with gender neutral farmer that has vitiligo?

your vlog aesthetic is cute btw 🫶🏻

a/n: a request that has been in my inbox before my write-a-thon but i'm making this as request #1 for it LOL enjoy <3 sorry if it's not the best, y'know? (also thx for the compliment, hon!!!)

★ the sdv bachelor/ettes with a farmer who has vitiligo ★

abigail

★ she's simply in awe of your vitiligo

★ she literally went :O when she saw you for the first time

★ always there to hype you up when you express insecurity about your vitiligo

alex

★ "cool costume, dude!" "oh, uhm, this is my skin" "oh.... OHHHH"

★ looks into vitiligo so he can be more sensitive and supportive, bro may look like a dick/can be a dick sometimes but he's all about supporting folks he loves

★ will beat up anyone who pokes fun at you for your vitiligo (such as the time he "accidentally" pelted mayor lewis with his gridball)

elliott

★ bro can’t stop singing your praises

★ writes little notes about how lovely you are whenever you’re having a bad day or when you feel self conscious

★ “a being as vibrant as the sun and as soft as the moon, you’re the best of both worlds”

emily

★ similar to abigail, she went :OO when she saw you for the first time

★ she's a bit ditzy and some things go over her head, especially if you express any insecurity about your vitiligo to you

★ likes to put stickers and bedazzle your spots if you consent

haley

★ to everyone's surprise, she doesn't criticize your vitiligo when she saw you for the first time

★ she definitely criticizes your muddy clothes but she draws the line at stuff people can't change

★ like harvey, her death stare is by far the most potent and has sent shockwaves into the hearts of those who dare to comment negatively on your vitiligo

harvey

★ very diligent about you having sunblock on, not only because you have vitiligo but also because you’re constantly exposed to the sun for your job (“skin cancer is one of the biggest killers out there!!!”)

★ tries not to go all doctor mode on you but it’s a struggle to switch out of it

★ has one of the scariest death stares, which he uses on people who are assholes to you about your vitiligo

leah

★ sees your vitiligo as a blank canvas full of beauty and potential

★ will outline your vitiligo spots or paint on them if you request it

★ paints you a whole ass portrait of yourself when you confine in her that you feel self conscious about your vitiligo

maru

★ her nickname for you is galaxy because your spots remind her of the vast and infinite universe

★ reminds you to keep sunscreen on you so you don't get burned

★ makes sure that she's in the know about any vitiligo-related news and such, as well as reprimanding her dad if he gets too science-y about your vitiligo

sam

★ "oh wow! i didn't know people's skin could have two colors!" golden retriever dumbass moment

★ researches vitiligo after you call him out on being a somewhat insensitive dumbass and ends up writing an apology song about it

★ makes sure that his family is respectful towards you and not repeat the mistake he did when he first met you

sebastian

★ man just gives you a thumbs up when you give (what you seen as obligated) your "i have vitiligo" speech

★ one of those non-disabled people who don't really gawk or get confused at the sight of someone's disability or condition, which is a breath of fresh air for you

★ "you're you and you deserve to be treated like everyone else, regardless of your vitiligo or not, you know?"

shane

★ accidentally blurted out that you reminded him of marnie's cows because of your skin when he met you for the first time

★ repents to this day for that comment, often buying you a drink at the saloon or gifting you some sorta trinket (usually a flower outside marnie's ranch)

★ "i know that i was an asshole when we first met, i still am a bit of an asshole now, but i want you to know... you are beautiful, you're one of a kind, and i'm sorry for any hurt i caused you with my words…”

penny

★ the educator in her comes out when you two start hanging out and you tell her about your journey with vitiligo

★ like maru, she keeps herself up to date on vitiligo-related news

★ makes sure that vincent and jas are educated on vitiligo so they don't make any weird comments towards you

[daily-trapinch]

I just rediscovered this blog, which has been completely inactive since 2017. If you're still following me, I'm so incredibly grateful that you've stuck with it through the long silence. Truthfully, I'd forgotten about my dear Sandi in the rush of life, you know how these things go. But I have so many fond memories from running this blog, at the peak of the daily pokemon hype! I truly hope all the folks from back in the day are doing well.

After losing both the email and password to for this blog, I managed to crack the code to get back in. I don't really know what I'm going to do with it now, but rest assured, I won't be deleting anything.

The last post on this blog was about getting to know me, so I figure it's about time for a life update. Pardon me for getting sentimental for a moment.

Since this blog went on hiatus, I have entered and graduated from my university with a Bachelor's in Marine Biology, with honors, and a minor in Chemistry. I traveled abroad and swam through coral reefs, rescued stranded sea life, and cleaned up beaches. Out of everything, I'm proudest of the time I spent building oyster reefs and restoring our shoreline habitats. I've met so many amazing people, and we've made a real difference in this world. Through working with oysters, I discovered a deep love of the little things, the tiny humble creatures living in crevices, within mud, and on rocks of the seafloor. There are miniature worlds of infinite wonder there, if you take the time to look.

I met the love of my life, nearly got engaged after five truly divine years, and was promptly dumped before I could propose. I still have the ring. At the same time, I moved across the country to an unfamiliar city, where I thought I would be with my love, but instead was completely on my own. Things have been hard. Things have been very, very hard. There are good days and bad days, but I am picking myself up, pulling myself out of the dark. I am building myself a home here, and it is so worth living in. There is so much beauty in this world. There is so much love in the hearts of the people around us.

Art has settled into a pleasant supporter in the background of my life. I don't draw nearly as much as I used to, and my sense of creativity has changed a lot over the years. But I always know that the art will be there for me whenever I decide to pick up pencil and paper again. This blog from years ago taught me the joy of silly little doodles, and I'm so so so grateful for that!

I go by Frankie, these days. They/them or xe/xem pronouns. Currently, I'm in graduate school, preparing to get my PhD in Marine Science. I study little marine worms - how they move, how they affect their environment, and how important they are to the whole ocean. Ask me about my polychaete pictures, I think they're really cute! Honestly, I wish I could go back and tell my 2017-self just how much we've accomplished. Back then, I never thought I'd make it this far. I could never have imagined the breadth of experiences life had waiting for me.

There's still so much more out there to experience. If you followed me in 2017 and you're reading this now - I hope life has treated you well. I hope you've had so many good days since the last time you saw my dear Sandi. And I hope you have so many more good days for years to come!

Some of you may notice that when I went on hiatus, I left some loose ends unresolved. Unanswered messages and asks, comic ideas, that kind of thing. I promise that I didn't do it on purpose at the time! I was a lot younger, didn't understand exactly how to handle my blog getting this big. But I hope you will respect my decision to leave these things alone and not reopen a bunch of threads from seven years ago. Thank you <3

[theink-stainedfolk]

Fragile Feelings

Never had I thought that I,a mere theater actor, would get rich overnight. Never had I thought that I'd become rich by just marrying a pretty young lady,who just came out of nowhere, suggesting the job. But here we are.

Her eyes were like that of the siren's drawing me into those deep pools of brown. She elegantly sipped the milk tea from her intricately designed cup. Her butler stood behind her with his eyes focused downwards. Her cream white jacket hung loosely over her shoulders. 

“Have you stared enough?” She said, raising her brow.

“I apologize, madam. I didn't mean to be rude.” I immediately averted my gaze. 

“It's fine.” She said and I looked back at her slowly, her leg crossed over the other made her aura appear even more dominant than before. “We'll have to do a lot of staring in the future anyways.”

“...Excuse me?” I was dumbfounded. 

She strengthened her posture. “Let me introduce myself. I'm Khanh Linh Tiên, the owner of Aether Electronics. I'm looking for a partner.”

I stared at her for a good minute, then I laughed.

“I'm sorry, but you might be meeting a wrong person, I'm just a-”

“Theater actor? I'm meeting the right person then. You are Heather Abdahu, 25 years old. I am looking for you.” she stated.

“You know who I am yet you are searching for a partner? Won't you be going in a loss?” This can't be the only reason for meeting me. Either that or she is truly stupid like those magazines say.

Laugh escaped her lips. “You are misunderstanding something here. I'm Looking for a partner, not a business partner.”

“Then you might have even a greater loss.”

“For a year or longer depending on the situation.” 

“Are you not listening to me?”

“What is your rent?” she suddenly asked. 

I had no idea where this conversation was headed to.“$2,150 per month, why?”

“I'll give you $30,000 per month for this.”

My eyes widened.“Have you gone crazy!?”

“$50,000”

“Hey wait, stop.” I raised my hand to stop her, she really must be crazy like the magazines say. “Why are you doing this? Can I at least get the context?”

“You know about the Khanh family very well, everyone does, I believe. And you must also know about the death of Leon Calloway, my fiance.” she folded her arms.

“Yes, a plane accident, it was truly sad.” I feigned sadness, I genuinely felt nothing for his death, I never really cared what was happening in the rich people's world. Plane crashes were minor accidents in their world.

“No. Not an accident, a murder. He was murdered.”

“What?” so the conspiracies were true…. Or she finds it hard to believe that his death was an accident. 

“Leon Calloway was one of the few eligible bachelors my grandfather chose for me during my college years.” Her mind drifted into her memories. “He was from an influential family of industrialists. I never questioned my grandfather's choices, after all he was the only person left in Australia with me as my brother was away for business issues in Vietnam. A few months after my grandfather's death, Leon was traveling to America, where his private jet crashed.”

“And you conclude it as a murder because?” I found her conclusion for this very difficult to believe. 

“He received a threat, asking to break his marriage with me. He told no one about it though, I just know it because I went through his phone.”

“......Wow… and- and I'm… you are asking me to accept this position, knowing very well that I might die?” Does she not care that a person might die here? Regardless of the money she's giving out to people just for being her lover. Money won't even matter if I die, is this some kind of joke?

“You need not fear for that, you'll be living in my house, with approximately 30 or more experienced bodyguards, with armaments might I add. And I believe I offered you a good deal, do you plan to live like this? And, this is for a temporary period of time, I promise to not let harm touch, much less, think about touching you." Her words were firm. It ignited some kind of fire within me, a fire of hope I believe. 

“Fixed period? Will you get something between that period?”

“Yes, I'll find out who exactly is so brave enough to challenge me, out of all the residents of the Khanhs. Do you consent to this deal?” 

“.... Are you really going to give me this much amount just to pretend to be your fiance?” I asked, just to be sure. This job is hard, I might die, might never get to break through the industry. But the offer is just…. So good to ignore. I could live somewhere else, with protection and without the knowledge of my parents, I can provide fees for my siblings and then they'd be free to buy anything, whatever they desire without thinking about it over and over again. 

She smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement.“To be my fiance and pretend to be in love with me, yes.”

“What about your image?”

“My vengeance is more important to me than my image, to be very frank.”

“Then… I consent. I'll be in your care, I hope you are true to your words.” Fuck it. Might as well jump in fire instead of regretting not burning in it.

“Very well, Heather.” she stood up, her butler adjusting her jacket for her.

“Can- can my siblings live with me too? Wherever I'm going, my siblings are coming with me. If not then just forget all of this.” 

She stared at me, confused. “You have siblings?” 

“Yeah. Hadia, and Sagheer. One is in college and the other in high school respectively.” I smirked, “You knew so much about me but not about my siblings? Not so meticulous of you.”

She returned my smirk and walked up to me. Though I thought that it didn't affect me much, I felt scared for a moment, even excited. “What could I have done? I only had my interest in you, hence I know all about you. How about we spend a day together to know more about each other, hmm?” She teased. I felt my heart rate rising and my face burning. 

walked to the door but turned around just before leaving. “And just keep in mind. Khanh Linh Tiên, never goes back on her words.” she winked and left.

I, along with her butler, were left in the grand living room. Silence was so loud that I could hear my heart thumping loudly against my chest. Her butler then guided me outside in the car to drop me to my house. While driving out, I turned to look back at the grand mansion, which stood with pride and vigor. This turn of events might bring either the saddest events in my life or the happiest. I guess we'll have to wait until the time tells us itself.

[aao1024]

Darlin'

Chapter 9

Series Masterlist

Warning: cursing, smut (finally)

As the day went on, they acted as though this had been their life for the past twenty years. Lee looks at her with admiration for being so loving and attentive to him. He loved the way she cared for him as if she was his wife, Y/n surpassed anything Florence ever did for Lee. He did not know how he could live without her by his side.

Y/n put herself in a routine while staying with Lee. Every morning is spent preparing breakfast and making a list of tasks that need done for the day. Y/n had been keeping up with the house chores as if that was her home.   

Her vacation days were coming to an end and she dreaded going back to her quaint apartment in the city. She loathed the idea of sleeping only with no one to hold her and bring her as much peace as Lee had over the past few weeks. Where she would make meals for herself and eat alone in unbearable silence. 

She stared at Lee with guilt, she hated the thought of packing her belongings and leaving him here to fend for himself like the lonesome bachelor he once was. She didn't want to have the conversation but she couldn’t just pack up and leave. The puppy love that they shared made any separation much more difficult than it needed to be. 

“Lee, I have to start packing tonight.” Y/n said with a saddened tone. 

“What are you talking ‘bout Darlin’, did I do something to upset you?” 

“Don’t be silly Lee, I’m not upset with you. I have to go back to work in a few days if I want to keep my job. So, I need to pack my things and go back to my place tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay Darlin’.” Lee said quietly. He looked like a child that had just broken their favorite toy. “I guess it has been a couple weeks now hasn’t it.”

Y/n heart broke at the sadness in his eyes and in his voice. She knew he would be okay without her but Lee is a sensitive man at heart and deep down dreaded being alone. Since he was not ready to go back to work he didn’t have anything to do except sit in his chair and wallow. 

“If it wasn’t for my job I would stay with you Lee, but I can’t lose my job. I can give you my phone number and you can call whenever you’d like.” She said in an effort to reassure him. 

She makes her way over to Lee in his chair. He looks up at her with sorrow and gestures for her to have a seat in his lap. She sat on his good leg and cuddled into his chest. He brought her into an embrace, holding her, afraid of losing her. Lee had never had someone care so much about him the way Y/n does. She made him feel like the only man in the world and he tried his best to make her feel the same. They sat quietly as Y/n rested her head on his chest and listened to the pounding of his heart and his steady breathing. They both stayed still in effort to make this moment last forever. Lee looked down and smiled at the sight in front of him, her breathing was heavy as she was resting in his embrace. Lee took his hand and brushed away the escaping locks of hair and tucked them behind her ear. He knew that no matter what would happen, he could never let her go. She was his breath of fresh air. He rubbed the outside of her thigh and made repetitive motions of drawing shapes and figures on her. 

Lee let her rest for a while before he woke her with a gentle brush of her cheek as he called her name. She slowly opened her eyes and was met with Lee’s smile. He had never smiled a lot in life but it was contagious when he did. As she attempted to sit up Lee pulled her back into his arms. She giggled at his actions and continued her attempts. 

“Lee you have to let me up, I need to get some cleaning done” she exclaimed as he tightened his grip and lightly tickled her sides. 

“I’m not letting you go Darlin’, you belong right here with me” he chuckled

Their laughter died down as they locked eyes. They looked at one another for a few moments before they both began to lean in. They were interrupted by the doorbell. Y/n quickly hopped off of him and Lee slowly rose up from his chair. He hobbled to the door and was met by a familiar face on the other side. His deputy chief, Wilson, had dropped by to check on Lee. 

“Wilson, good to see you. Is everything alright?” Lee questioned. Y/n curiously stood by his chair and made her way to the kitchen.

“Of course everything is alright, just wanted to check in on ya and see if you needed anything.”

“Well thank you, come on in and have a seat.” Lee opened the door and gestured for his guest to have a seat on the couch. The men seated themselves and began discussing Lee’s future return to work, Y/n made quick work in the kitchen and brought both men a glass of water. As she walked into the living room Wilson looked at her shocked to see that she was here. He continued their conversation waiting for her to leave the room before interrogating Lee.

“Lee, is that the lady who took care of you in the hospital?” He questioned

“Yes, but she is not just some lady. Her name is Y/n, she’s been helping me ‘round the house and taking good care of me.”

“So let me get this straight, you have a random woman you met at the hospital, living in your house and caring for you. And you have only known her for a couple weeks?”

“Well when you put it like that it sounds crazy.” Lee chuckled. “Look, she is a really great gal. We both have feelings that we are figuring out and she has been keeping me in check. It happened quite fast but we are both comfortable with this arrangement. However, she is leaving in a day or two to go back to work.” Wilson sat there and shook his head in disbelief. He was ultimately confused with how they had been casually living together for the last few weeks like it was no big deal.

“That is quite the arrangement, just be careful Lee.”

“You have nothing to worry about Wilson, she’s a good one.” Wilson shook his head in utter disbelief. “Well I should get down the road before the misses sends out a search party, I’ll see you later Lee.” Lee bids him farewell as he lets himself out.

Lee gets up from his chair in order to find Y/n. He finds he in the kitchen was dishes wearing an apron to prevent her dress from getting wet. Lee walks up to her and wraps his arms around her waist pressing himself against her, burying his head in her neck. He peppers her skin in small pecks.

“Lee, I have to get this done, so I can start packing.”

“C’mon Darlin’ I want you to pay attention to me.” He pouts

She dries her hands and turns around to become face to face with Lee. he smiles as he grabs her thighs and lifts her onto the counter, she squeals in fear that he will drop her.

“Lee, don’t pick me up like that, you are gonna hurt yourself.”

“Darlin’, you can tell me what to do all you want, but I will never stop picking you up. And I must say you look mighty fine sitting all pretty up here for me. Just as gorgeous as the day I met ya.” He then presses his lips into her jaw and litters her with his kisses. Making his way up to her lips as he grabs at her thighs and hips. She drapes her arms over his shoulders as she snakes her hand into his hair holding him close. As they break away for air Lee looks her up and down taking in the sight in front of him. Her swollen lips turn into a smile as she catches his stares.

“A picture would last longer Lee” she remarks. “Now I really need to start packing.” His smile quickly becomes a frown. He huffs and helps her down from the counter. He follows as she walks to the living room and watches as she packs her things. She sets out her nightwear and tomorrow’s outfit. Lee waits patiently for her to finish. She spins around and makes her way towards Lee. 

“Darlin’ let's go out for dinner tonight. I know a good place a couple towns over that would be nice.”

“That would be really nice Lee, let me get ready and we can head out.” She grabs her toiletries and heads to the guest bathroom. She always kept a nice dress in her bags, and it would be the perfect fit for tonight. It was a black A-line dress that hugged her figure just right. This gave him the time to make their reservation and head upstairs to get ready himself. He stood in front of his closet attempting to pick a nice outfit for tonight. He settled for his black slacks, a white button down and his black blazer.

He made his way downstairs to find Y/n gazing out the living room window at the neighborhood children playing together. He wishes he could read her mind at times like these. Did she want children? She was much younger than him and still had plenty of time to have children. 

“Darlin’, you ready to go?” She turned towards Lee and was taken back by his appearance. He looked so sophisticated and handsome, more than he already did. He took his time capturing her gorgeous curves in that dress, and knew that it would not stay on her long when they got back. Lee extended his hand out to her and she reached out to him. He led her to the garage and opened the door for her and gently closed it behind her. Lee hopped in the driver’s seat and made their way down the road. Y/n silently gazed out the window and took in her surroundings. She did not want this night to end. She knew she was falling for him even more than she thought she would. He rested his hand on the bottom of her thigh as he drove. 

They finally made it to a small town with many shops and restaurants that littered the town square. Lee led the way as they walked down the sidewalk towards the restaurant. He was concerned with how quiet Y/n was but did not want to impose. They entered the building, and were seated at a table by the front window. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Oh nothing Lee, just thinking about tomorrow and going back to work. I don’t want to leave.” She states as she grabs his hand that’s laying on the table.”

“Darlin’, it will be alright, I don’t want you to go either but it’s what you have to do. But for tonight let’s enjoy the night and forget tomorrow.” She nodded as they moved on to their usual topics, sharing stories of one anothers childhoods and lives before they met. The food was delicious but Lee thought Y/n’s food was better. She shook her head at his brown nosing. They took their time finishing their meals, Lee eventually paid the bill and they made their way back to his car. In the car they sat close together and just enjoyed each other’s company. They reached Lee’s house 30 minutes later. He parked the car in the garage. He turned the car off and sat quietly and shared glances. Lee’s eyes switched his gaze from her eyes to her lips repeatedly before he pulled her in swiftly and connected their lips. 

Lee moved down the seat and pulled her into his lap. 

“Lee let me get off, I’m going to hurt you.” she said in between kisses.

Lee stopped in his tracks, “Darlin’, what did I tell you about saying that. You are so god damn beautiful and I want you in my lap. You are not going to hurt me.”

“Lee I’m too-”

“Too what? And you better not say big because you're perfect, absolutely perfect and you’re all mine. Do you hear me? I don’t want you saying that again.” 

“Okay, Lee I won’t say it again.” he quickly resumed his action and let his hands wander her figure.

“Let’s go inside Lee.”

“Are you sure Darlin’, we can stop-”

“I’m sure” She climbed down from his lap and they made their way into the house 

Y/n grabbed Lee’s hand and led him up the stairs to the bedroom. She closed the door and turned to find Lee sitting on the end of the bed looking her up and down like a hungry animal. She tossed her heels to the side and made her way towards him. He grabbed her hips and pulled her down onto the bed with him. They had resumed the position they took in the car. Lee pulled down the zipper that began at the back of her dress as he toed off his shoes and took off his jacket without separating his lips from hers. Lee made his way off the bed and stripped down to his underwear. Y/n laid there breathless and took in the sight before her as he moved towards her, placing himself between her legs. He pushed the bottom of her dress up to put her beauty on display. She pulls the dress over her head as Lee leans down to kiss her thighs. He slowly works his way up, spending extra time at her breasts. As he reached her neck she wrapped herself around him. He tried to withhold the urge but he couldn’t help but buck his hips into her. Y/n moaned at this foreign feeling. 

“Lee please, I need you” he swiftly reached around to unhook her bra. He tossed it to the side and took her breast into his mouth. Swirling his tongue and watching her squirm underneath him. He works his way down her body and stops his kisses at her panty line.

“Darlin’, are you sure.” he asks, “Yes Lee, I’m sure”

He removes her underwear, tossing them to the floor to add to the scattered mess of clothing. He positions himself between her thighs and kisses her everywhere but where she wants him. Moments later he devours her as if she is his last meal. She snaps her legs closed in reflex, but quickly let’s go in order to not suffocate Lee.  He grabs both legs and pulls her back in and tossing her legs over his shoulders, she arches her back as he dives deeper. She moans as Lee continues, gasps for air as he inserts a finger with little resistance. Adding another to stretch her out. Lee can tell by her noises and movements, that no man has ever made her feel this way, making him even harder knowing she’ll be begging for more. He continues his actions bringing her closer to her climax. Her moans became louder as she laced her fingers in his hair, unknowingly pulling it too hard. 

“Lee please don’t stop, please Lee.” Lee grins as he hears her begging him to continue. He continues his actions as she moans his name reaching her climax. Lee stops once she releases his hair from her grip. As she lies breathing heavily, Lee removes his underwear and lays next to her. Caressing her face and bringing her gaze to him.

“You okay, Darlin’?”

“I’m more than okay Lee”

He smiled and got on top of her, littering her face and neck with his lips. Y/n captured Lee’s lips with her own and they became in sync. 

“Darlin’ are you sure, you are okay to keep going?” Y/n nodded her head “Darlin’, I need to hear you say it, that you are okay.”

“I’m okay”

Lee pumps himself a few times before he enters her. He groans as he seats himself in her fully. Her face contorted in pain, legs wrapped around him, nails digging into the skin of his arms. Lee hated seeing her in pain, he halted all movements and waited for her to relax underneath him before moving slowly. As he sped up she held onto him more and moaned in his ear. Send chile down Lee’s spine he continued his movements until he reached his climax with Y/n reaching her’s as well. 

“Fuck Darlin’, you fell so fucking good, gonna fill you up nice and full.” he said as came into her, and as she reached her own high. Lee laid his head in the crook of her neck as they both breathed heavily. 

Lee lifted his head and smiled at Y/n, “This means you're my girl now.”

“I’ve been yours since day one Lee.”

He kissed her and removed himself from her. Lee went to the bathroom and came back with a warm rag to clean her up. He handed it to her not wanting to be too overbearing. He then crawled into bed beside her, and she laid on his chest as their hearts began to slow down from the previous excitement. They quickly fell asleep in one another’s embrace with no regard for the loneliness to come.

Taglist: @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @charmed-asylum @mrsyixingunicorn10

[gracieblue]

I decided to finally draw my detective, Bianca Lund 💕✨

i love this idiot. I honestly felt bad for giving her M as her LI, she deserves a healthy relationship with straight up communication 😭😭 don't worry girlie it will be worth it-

bits of info that i spewed under the cut-

Bianca

Went to University for a Bachelor of Communication, majoring in Journalism with a minor in psychology. However she dropped out partway through...

She intended to become a News Reporter, however her childhood dream was to become a weather girl! She realised however that she didn't give a fuck about the weather and that it was actually a requirement to care about weather.

Came back to Wayhaven after the Uni fail and looked for a job. At first she went to the local hairdressers asking for an internship of some sort, anything really. But naturally being a small town, they just didn't need anyone at the moment.

Her next course of action was to use her parents connections at the station and pleaded for a receptionist job. Which thankfully worked. nepo baby at its finest

Because Wayhaven was such a quiet town, her role as a receptionist shifted into actual officer training and so she more or less, just became an officer. She didn't necessarily want to become an officer but it was better money and it was still pretty cushy.

The real surprise however was when she got the promotion of detective. It was genuine shock, and still a slight mystery on exactly why. Even in a small town like Wayhaven, there were people far more qualified than her.

Tense relationship with Rebecca. She ended up living with her grandfather from a very young age but resents Rebecca for constantly being in and out of her life. Among other issues that I would like to explore later.

Mason isn't her first situationship, not by a long shot, but it's the one that hurts the most.

After their first night together, she realised that she caught feelings pretty damn hard and silently, really wants those feelings reciprocated.

but she's not stupid and knows what she signed up for so whatever 😭✌️ 'guess i'll just silently suffer that this guy doesn't want anything more and keep hooking up' type of vibe. lucky for you girl i'm thinking its going to be a 'she fell first but he fell harder'

Bobby is a very complicated ex. She's always craved love from anywhere she can get it, and for awhile bobby sort of fulfilled that for her. It felt very real to her and loved how it made her feel. So no matter what, she always seems to let him back in. Despite him fucking her over so many times.

i want to keep going but i'm fucking rambling at this point. ill probably expand on these ideas as I keep drawing her...

[ygodmyy20]

3, 7, 8, 19 :]

I am finally answering my ask game questions hhahaha

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

We both asked this question to one another quirkle and I also don't know what it means bahahahha I don't have. ritual I just have OH MAN TIME TO WRITE LETS GOOOO energy

Maybe that is my ritual. Just MUST WRITE ENERGY

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

Writing something that I feel so good about. Something that expresses my thoughts and feelings into words. And really, that I get to read it later and sink into that headspace again.

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

Holy crap um. Probably.....action. I love writing action a LOT but I need dialogue. I am a huge dialogue writer. I live for dialogue and I like to hope I am pretty good at it.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

And this is the question that took me awhile to answer.

I started writing fanfics when I was 13, kicking off with Yugioh and i wrote for that fandom from around 2003 till about 2015. I wrote so much that I considered going to collage for writing and I went to writers workshops in the summer and got into the University of Iowa's English program, which has one of the best creative writing masters programs in the country. I had planned on getting my Bachelors and Masters from there.

Well.....i burned out in my first year, moved back to Michigan, changed majors to business and slowly stopped writing as much. Some big life changes happened to me between graduating collage and 2013. I tried to keep writing but it just didn't stick. I couldn't write, nothing was happening. I lost nearly all my creativity for around 10 years.

I completely stopped writing between 2015 and 2023.

And then, in May 2023, I found this lovely lil anime we all know and love called Mob Psycho 100.

I started drawing, and I started writing, I started engaging with fandom again. I wrote Float and people commented and the read my work. I was ecstatic I didn't know what to do--people read my work, I honestly couldn't believe it. Like, the reception I got from my mp100 fanfics was so positive compared to my previous works. It was....honestly so amazing.

I then wrote the very self indulgent Just Breathe, my step into shipping once again.

And then in September I wrote one of my favorite pieces of fiction I have ever written ever in my life, which is Blackhole.

And then, I started thinking of an ageswap and Black Sweatshirt was born.

Now, I am knee deep in this ageswap fic, a post-canon series, and many other one-shots. I have written over 100,000 words in under a year. The train shows no sign of stopping (it slowed down a bit recently but I am pretty sure I just needed a break)

Right now where I am at, in this moment, is someone who is very happy with my writing. I have wonderful friends who will beta my work, there is a whole community to share my art with. My ageswap is nearly 20 chapters long (Yeah oof I know haha).

Where i am going: To finish this story. To write my post-canon series. To hopefully have readers that enjoy my work, even though it may take me months to years to finish them.

To one day, maybe one day, re-write and finish Shadows. My last YGO fanfic that I still hope to one day finish. I will rewrite the whole thing though.

[ramblinganthropologist]

Writober 2023 10 - Fortune

Summary: Alistair Shepard had to adjust to some weird shit in the hospital after surviving the Citadel. What he didn't expect was his sister and her book of wedding planning. Since when was she a fortune teller?

---

You know… he was really starting to get tired of being in a hospital bed.

At least he was being left alone for the moment. Ever since Alistair had come out of his coma, the doctors had been in nearly constantly. Apparently, surviving the Citadel coming down around you amidst the final push against the Reapers interested people.

He couldn’t exactly get out of being in the epicenter, but… they could be a little gentler with the needles.

At least he was free for the moment. His thumb kept rubbing up against the ring Garrus had given him as part of their engagement. The fact it was made of the Normandy was a comfort to him, especially since he wasn’t going back to it ever again.

After all… he was retired now. Papers were in and everything.

“I guess we should start thinking about if we want a wedding or not…” He trailed off. Alistair had done his share of alien studies as part of the Alliance, but those rarely covered marriages among the species for obvious reasons. He was kind of in the dark about what turians did to celebrate their vows, if they had any at all. For all he knew, they just signed some papers and got back to duty.

He wouldn’t mind that – justice of the peace was ok by him.

“Not very romantic,  Al.”

A voice hummed in his ear, though the speaker was nowhere to be seen. Alistair scowled, still not used to the fact he was technically subletting his body to somebody else. Well, not somebody – Love was a spirit. So they had never been a person or anything…

Look, it was confusing, ok? He shared head space with a concept that liked The Bachelor.

“We are technically cleaning up after a galaxy wide war, Love.” He sighed. “Plus I don’t know how turians handle marriages, especially if one of the parties isn’t turian. I guess I could ask Anora…”

He trailed off. While he was sure his sister and her family had survived, this was the kind of thing that as awkward to ask. After all, he didn’t really do a lot of bonding with Anora for obvious reasons.

She might not appreciate the call…

“They have a ceremony, don’t worry.”

A new voice drew Alistair’s attention to the door. Bo was there for her daily visit, a book under her arm. She entered the room and took the only chair, the one that had practically be carved out for her she had sat in it so much.

He envied her to look so at ease – he wanted out of the hospital ASAP.

“Do I want to know why you know that?” He shook his head. “Never mind, what’s with the book?”

Bo cracked it open and spread it out on her knees. “It’s the plans for your wedding. I’ve been keeping it since you met Mandibles.”

Alistair’s jaw all but dropped at that. “You what?”

That was nearly 3 years. How had she even thought to start it when he had literally slammed into the turian on the Citadel back in 2183? He knew she could be committed to a bit… but this was just ridiculous.

Maybe it was hypocritical for the guy who literally came back from the dead with a spirit inside him to be a skeptic, but so be it. He had to draw the line somewhere for his own sanity, or everything went out the window.

Bo flipped the pages as she spoke. “I just got a feeling about it is all, so I started writing stuff down. It’s weird, I wrote about the calendar before it even was a thing.”

He shook his head – oww. “So now you’re a fortune teller for my love life?”

“Just a wedding planner.” She flipped another page. “Oh, good news, looks like I planned for the aisle to be accessible in case you’re still in a wheelchair. Nice going, me.”

Ok, now he was calling bullshit. Alistair did his best to lean over so he could try to make out the details of the book. Much to his surprise, it was dated. The one page he was looking at came from 2184, when he was dead.

Al’s alive. Better get back to planning.

Note to self: clearly mark levo and dextro food. Mandibles’ sister has the bad version of the allergy, don’t need to put her in the hospital.

How… would she know about an allergy that Garrus’ sister had. Hell, he had barely spoken to the woman maybe twice since he had started dating the turian. She certainly hadn’t brought up what happened if she ate the wrong food…

Was it just a good guess? Playing the odds, maybe?

“Right, so, thanks to the bet and my winnings in the ring, I have enough saved. You’re not allowed to say no, it’s my present to you.” Bo was still flipping through her notes like this was the most normal thing in the world. “Oh, nice. When I thought about suits, I didn’t mention a binder. Guess that makes things easier.”

…

Nope, he was not going to think too hard about this. His head hurt enough with his amp having to be removed and replaced after what had happened at the Citadel. Pondering too long on her thoughts was dangerous and exhausting.

Would he accept it? Well… he’d probably just ignore it and think she was perceptive.

“Looks like you thought of everything.” He felt a little guilty there – he probably should’ve been the one to plan his own wedding instead of farming it off on his sister. Besides, what if Garrus just wanted a legal ceremony? Would he be comfortable doing things human style?

Man, they probably should’ve both been there for it.

Sensing his anxiety no doubt, Bo closed the book. “Don’t worry, I already ran it past Mandibles. He was a little confused by the human stuff, but you Catholics are confusing regardless. I didn’t put a mass down or anything, you said you haven’t gone to one since you were like 12.”

Yes, and he hadn’t had confession since his confirmation, so taking the Eucharist was a bit beyond him. Besides, did the make a turian version, or was it considered blasphemous? And was it weird for someone resurrected to take the risen lord?

…

This was why he didn’t go to church anymore. It made his head hurt.

“No mass is fine by me, I don’t know any priests who could do it anyway.” He shook his head again. “How did Garrus react to all this?”

Bo shrugged. “He probably thought I was out of my mind, but it’s hard to argue with the data so he’s going along with it.”

Well, at least that made things easier. Alistair was glad he wasn’t forcing his now fiancé into anything he didn’t want to do.

“By the way, here.” Bo drew a tube of green pixie sticks from her pocket and dropped it into his lap. “I get the feeling you’re about to bottom out.”

True to her word, his omni-tool began to beep its familiar sound of low blood sugar. Alistair resisted the urge to shudder as he tore into the pack with his teeth and swallowed it down. After all, he was in the hospital – maybe it was only natural his sugar would drop.

He… was going to go with that.

“Anyway, once that sinks in, I have some notes on food-“

Since there was no way to avoid it, Alistair just nodded and settled in. After all, if she had taken the time to write all this down, it would be rude to ignore her. Some of her ideas were pretty good too, better than anything he would have thought up.

Hooray for wedding planning sisters with strange senses of premonition, he guessed. And he was going to leave it at that, or his battered brain was going to overheat.

…

How had she known he would’ve had top surgery by then, though? Nope… he wasn’t going to dwell on it. Focus on the wedding planning and not the growing sense of unease with the unknown he was welcoming into his life.

Love was giving him practice for that, so maybe he would need to thank the spirit later… much later… after he googled if there was host for turians. Curiosity killed the cat and all that.

[401bmma4]

A GENERATION OF CHRONICALLY ONLINE PEOPLE

By: Caguan, Emanuel

PODCAST

PODCAST SCRIPT

Well, Hello fellow college students out there. I know! some of you are probably too busy with your personal life or student life to have time to listen on another school submission task like this, but hey I get to express and write some of my nonsense and you all get to hear it, it's a fair trade come on now. (No it's not) and for those non college students that still might stumble upon this, congratulations and my apologies in advance because you just stumbled on another yapper (No not me) (Yes me)

Disclaimer: This is indeed for school purposes for our subject writing in new media under our course BMMA (Bachelors of Multimedia Arts)

Going back, I'm here to basically just share what I've been through with this subject, what I have learned, what I gained that I can contribute to people and the media.

Starting off with the subject experience and ending it briefly in a scale of 1 to 10!

I'm giving my personal experience on this subject a 9 out of 10.

The professor is chill, the school activities are fun and were made specifically for art inclined students, so thumbs up for that!

The subject's lessons are very comprehensible and I personally think has a bias spot for my generation (Gen Z) considering we're tackling mostly about media. (We all know how Gen Z dwell on literally any media platforms nowadays).

Definitely a subject that would be loved by aspiring journalists, writers, chronically online people and the list goes on.

The only one thing that lead me with a rating of 9 out of 10 was briefly because there was no present or available professor for a month in the start of the semester.

Since I've already gone through with my experience, I would also like to share the most remarkable experience I had which is also an activity (school purposes) that we took under our subject writing in new media.

The activity was basically about making a vlog and it's a group task, the vlog could be food reviews, tour vlogs, interviews and so on. After the completion of this activity we watched as a class the vlogs of each groups in our class (Sounds fun right?) well yes it was, but what made it remarkable aside from it being "fun", is that I was able to somehow gather interesting facts, information and knowledge from the other group's vlog. Each group had varieties of vlog styles, everyone went to different places, ate different kinds of food, got to talk to people too in different places. So as the watcher or spectator of those vlogs I was able to enjoy the entertainment of each group and at the same time- (as intended earlier) I was learning.

All I was able to think of was "Oh! people like these kind of food" "I didn't know about such practices" "Woah that's a cool view" "nice place, might visit it sometime" and summing all my thoughts I was like "Media indeed connects people" because of media we get to learn and explore more wonders in the world. it's not just because of vlogging specifically but media in general, because as we all know vlogging is just an instrument of media and there's more to it.

Now it got me thinking, I am a multimedia arts Student aspiring to become a Multimedia Artist. I am basically soon to be an instrument of multimedia, even right now I am considered as one already, but it also got me thinking- what can be my contribution to new media and the society we live in?

I'm not the type of artist that is good at vlogging, traveling and basically exploring places in general. My writing skills is not that even good, and I'm also not confident at using social media platforms. I only specialize in illustrating (drawing to be exact) and even with that said I'm confident that I can contribute to new media and in our society with what I am capable of, if people records vlogs to connect with people, writes literatures to inform and express to contribute in new media then I can do the same intent too with illustration making.

It's not yet settled that I'm guaranteed to contribute something, but I can envision clearly my plans future methods to it, and what I can guarantee is my desire and will to deliver illustrations that can connect to people, entertain and inform people, illustrations that will impact positively our current generation's media.

(I think I might've said a lot already)

But yeah, I might be yapping nonsense from the very beginning, and some of you might take this as an unserious blog considering I was aiming to give it a vibe like that, but I do hope I was able to express my thoughts clearly Hopefully you all were able to get most of it. (Some of you all are probably punching the air right now saying I wasted your time- but hey! I get to yap nonsense and you get to listen to my audacity) (Fair trade I guess?)

Before I drop the mic for good, Thank you!

(No seriously thank you whether I wasted your time or not)