#Mimi Oates

[natteryaktoad]

Toddlers!, Day 85, Part 13

Vi: Go on - you can hit harder than that!

I went to move some of his college fund into Rory and Ryan's college funds, but they already have about $25k each. This is what happens when you're an only child and your parents are a high-flying businessman and a very successful doctor!

Rory and Ryan are either both involved in their own pursuits, or both competing for Daddy's attention.

I don't know if Zion really wants the help of two five-year-olds... but he's got it!

These two finally made friends tonight!

Aurora: Daddy, can we have dinner on the couch?

Carlo: No - why would you eat on a couch when there's a perfectly good table right here?

Orion: Is easier to pill food clothes when eat at table.

Carlo: Yeah, right.

I don't know what story Aurora's telling about school, but Carlo's enjoying it.

Zion needed either two charisma points or two mechanical points to open up his grade bar. There was never an opportunity to get them organically, and he never rolled any college related wants - if he wanted to write an assignment or a term paper or even go to class then I'd have him get the skill points to open the bar up. So probation it is. At least now he's not a semester ahead of Vi, so they'll graduate at the same time. If he gets those skill points next semester... I imagine his dads will have something to say about it...

Zion: I can't believe I failed...

Vi: I can't either. You're usually such a nerd. We can talk about it properly in the morning, though - right now, let me cheer you up.

Mimi has to get straight As - her student debt is bad enough as it is. She knows Carlo would pay if off in a heartbeat if she asked him to, but she won't.

[bullet-prooflove]

Coy: Dean Archer x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @helsinkibaby @hufflepuffgirl @mimi-8793

Releasing early as a birthday gift to my babe @mandy426

Dean found out his wife was cheating on him when he discovered he had syphilis during a routine medical check. He tells you that after you've been trapped in an elevator together for over three hours. He’d exhausted all of the small talk options after the first two so now the you’re digging into the real stuff, the stuff you don’t even tell your best friend because you’re terrified they’ll murder someone on your behalf.

You’d already disclosed how you found your husband fucking another woman on a sheepskin rug in the cabin you owned together. So it was his turn and well that’s apparently that’s the secret he chose to disclose.

“It’s gone now though right?” You say gesturing towards the lower half of his scrubs and he gives you an offended look. “You’re not just walking around sowing your wild oats…”

“One, that would be horribly irresponsible if I didn’t get treated and secondly I do not ‘sow my wild oats’.” He says making bunny ears with his fingers.

“I just assumed, an intelligent, attractive man like yourself would have a busy social calendar.” You say, tucking a stray strand of hair back behind your ear.

“Yea, Netflix and medical journals.” He responds before backtracking. “Wait you think I’m attractive?”

“Dean, don’t be coy.” You say, kicking him lightly in the knee with your shoe.

“I’m not.” He tells you, his cheeks colouring as he tilts his head back towards the ceiling and closes his eyes. “I can’t remember the last time someone told me they found me attractive. It’s usually grumpy, egotistical…”

He laughs before he tips his head towards you, his eyes meeting yours.

“I’m not selling myself am I?”

“Do you feel like you need to?” You ask him and he frowns before he shakes his head.

“No I…” He trails off before he looks at you a little differently. “I’ve never felt like that with you, it doesn’t feel like trying. Hell I’ve just told you I’ve had syphilis so I think we can discern I feel pretty damn comfortable around you.”

“Yea.” You say with a sigh, tucking your hands into your pockets. “Comfortable.”

“I’ve said something wrong.” He says quietly. “I didn’t mean…”

“No.” You say softly, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s just, I’m not the girl that gets the guy. I’m the weird one that cuts up bodies in the morgue.”

“You do a valuable job, we learn things from that, people get closure.” You give him a look and he realises he’s doing it again, saying the wrong thing. “I’m not explaining myself well.”

“No you are.” You say with a smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. “I understand perfectly.”

Silence falls between the two of you and now it’s his turn to sigh because he’s never been good at communicating, not when it comes to the important stuff. Up until three hours ago you were just a colleague, the woman he had a thing for. And now…

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful.” He tells you because you took a risk and now it’s his turn. “And it has been intimidating actually, because you’re also smart and funny. The perfect package.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

He can tell you don’t believe him, why would you? You’re ex-husband spent years lying to about his affairs. He knows how that feels, how it erodes at your self-worth. He also knows that sometimes actions speak louder than words.  

“I mean it.” He tells you, his fingertips tilting up your chin so that he can look into your eyes. “I never thought I had a shot with you.”

“We’re idiots aren’t we?” You say softly as his thumb traces over the apple of your cheek.

“We are trapped in an elevator.” He agrees, his nose trailing along the length of yours. “And I’m terrified what other secrets I may end up spilling if we stay in here any longer.”

“You wanna do something other than talk?” You ask him and he smiles against the corner of your mouth.

“Yea.” He whispers, his lips brushing over yours. “I think I would.”

Love Dean? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[heartfullofleeches]

Hey chief, do you mind if I play some Pokemon here? Been here for a while and already collected some pearls, let me see..

*Pulls their bag and open it, taking out some Pokeballs*

Here we have... Titus, Dylan, Theodore, Erin, Spencer, Ben, Evan, Sammy, V, Host, Janitor, Ball Pit God, Bathroom Succubus, The Storyteller, The Manager, Amyas, Cholly, Tobi, Alasdair, Baron, Maddox, C.C., Orion, Jaremiah (btw, wtfrick happen to that dude? Did he melt on the microwave or smt?), Reese, Lambchop, Liu, Alien, Selene (honest, miss the sweet lady), Daina, Pin (another one that I miss, what happen to little dude? :( ), Static (do you remember them? It's been a while like, previous year halloween or smt?), Damsel, Elliot (I feel so old for still remembering him off-)...

Pretty sure I forgot some fellas, would you mind helping me find the others? I need to complete my Mr. Devil Collection. :b

Casper, Gemi/Gemini (miss these two fr, Ceres, Baron's sleeper paralysis big sister who's name I forget, Mal, Devlin, Silas, Gus, Ventri, Melan, The Director, Anri, Julian, The Scavenger, Rosebud, The Painter, the clock one, The lady in White, The Faceless Angel, Ruthie, Farmer Crow, Blythe, Mimi, D.Kay, Cherry, Clementine, Lemon, Lime, Melon, Eve/Everett, Vendetta, Dea, Thane, Mono, Exael, Titus, Sucrose, Mocha, Jolie, Izzy and Cinnabar, Gumi, Lollie, Zachary, Hayes, "Lucille" (Liu's parasite half. Also Liu used to be Lee), Morgan, Seth, that one cowboy guy, that one bullman guy, horny ghost lady, Chocolate Milk, Strawberry Milk, Eggnog, Screamsicle, Oat Milk, Apricot Milk, Peach Milk, Cotton-Candy Milk, Mint Milk, Apple Milk, Milk Tea, Spice Milk, Milk/Milk Maid, Cherry Milk, Bear, Bo, Spot, Saber, Belle, Doc, Trick, Prince, Wisteria

The list goes on but that's what I got for now. Fuck I miss the night gallery so fucking much. Jeremiah is dead. I haven't mention my poor baby Static since the beginning of the year. Pin has a draft I need to finish eventually

[murphyismz]

eating mimi (mini) chocolate chips out of my palm while high like an easily startled horse taking oats from the hand of the rancher’s spunky daughter

[zeenmrala]

━ tag people you want to get to know better! ♥

thank you for the tag @grinningnexu and @lune-de-miel-au-paradis ♥

i am tagging: (sorry if you have already been tagged, i’m pretty late to this one) @sinisterexaggerator @ohboi @agirlunderarock @gen-is-in-her-pink-era @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @frogunderarock

favorite colour: lavender currently reading: our bodies, their battlefields by christina lamb which explores the impact war has on women in modern history and the use of systematic sexual assault as a war crime. a very harrowing and devastating book.  last song: girlfriend (feat lil mama) by avril lavigne. it’s on my mimi mirage playlist lol last movie (in theaters): the unlikely pilgrimage of harold fry. the book was better last series: star wars visions 2 craving: oat chai latte  tea or coffee: tea currently working on: the life of my oc mimi mirage and her relationship with @elledjarin’s oc risha. the relationship between shaak ti and my oc avona teller. the next chapter of btlotsm. 

[typeonpaper]

when :  day fourteen / morning / kitchen.

featuring :   @cruelsxmmcr​

       the scene in the kitchen is tense. or perhaps it’s just mimi who feels tense, a predisposition to seeing drama when there isn’t any that seeps into every aspect of her being. she could’ve had a career on the stage.  she’s not said anything, and neither has dylan, so in her head it’s now some silent competition of who’ll break the silence first, and when she can’t take the tension any longer she clears her throat and turns to look at him, gaze steely.    “can you pass the oat milk ?”

[monstermaster13]

Corey and Oats in..

The Magical Hogwarts Adventure

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

Corey and Oats and Mel were friends with a lot of people both online and offline and one of their online friends was Brainiacadam who often made funny Vyond videos which they always enjoyed watching. But of course there was more to that and more than this they had actually been to the world of Vyond a couple of times. 

They had just watched a video in which the Adamantiums and Alanastiums got sorted into houses via the Sorting Hat, and they all decided it would be fun to give it a go themselves, so they asked Mel if she could help them, she used a magical code to access a special portal in their computer which opened up and pulled them in.

The portal pulled them inside the computer and into the land of Vyond where they arrived on the other side they were at the entrance of Hogwarts and they all decided to enter it,  and they were delighted to meet their friends the Adamantiums.

Adam told them they were all just in time for the sorting ceremony, as they all gathered to take turns. The teams being sorted were Mel’s team consisting of herself, Nathan, Werebelushi In Shades, John Landis, Mimi the Minionette, Russell Brand, Eucalyptus, Soo the panda-woman, Corey (and the rest of the microbe gang), Oats, Anglo, Piff, Aiyido, Herbert the Cthulhu Squishmallow, Dan the were-aykroyd, Vlad the Vampire and Miss Grinch and her team of enemies.

The first up was Nathan, the sorting hat knew Nathan was intelligent and creative and announced..’You, Nathan shall be in ravenclaw.’  Followed by Corey stepping up and trying on the hat…’If you were still a bad microbe, you would  be in Slytherin, but you are a much better microbe now and are a good friend to Mel, you shall be in Hufflepuff.’

‘Yaaaay!’ Corey cheered, then Oats trotted up and put on the hat…’You are a kind and loving horse who cares deeply for his friends, you shall go to Hufflepuff.’ ‘Did you just get into Hufflepuff too?’ ‘I sure did.’ ‘Yaaay.’

The sorting ceremony went on for a couple of hours and when it was finished Mel and Eucalyptus were put into Gryffindor along with Aiyido the Beholder and his girlfriend Delilah Deathray,  Vlad the vampire and Herbert the Cthulhu squishmallow and John Landis as well as their friends Tarrant Hightop and Serena.

John Landis was very happy to be in the exact same house as fellow movie directors Peter Jackson, Tim Burton and Steven Spielberg. Dan the Were-Aykroyd even got to share a common room with his siblings who were all Dan Aykroyd characters (since most of them were in the same house) and with Dan Aykroyd himself.  Sam the Eagle, Kermit, and Miss Piggy were also in Gryffindor.

Mimi the Minionette was very pleased to be put in Hufflepuff with Russell Brand (especially since she was a big fan of Russell’s), Nathan and Miss Grinch were put in Ravenclaw along with Piff, Soo the panda-woman, Augini the anglerfish and Aiyvan the monster and Wailleo as well as Gonzo, Rizzo and Pepe the Prawn and Dawn Bellwether.  

Matthias/Werebelushi looked a bit distraught…’What’s wrong? Don’t you like how it is turning out?’  ‘Well I do, it’s just i’m in Slytherin and I am the only good person there.’  ‘That’s not true, Rita Repulsa is also in that house and you can keep her company.’   ‘But i’ve got the Alanastiums and the majority of our villain group to deal with in this house too.’  ‘Look on the bright side, you get to tell them off.’  ‘You are right there, it does give me a chance to tell off Donald Trump AND Boris Johnson at the same time.’

‘You get to yell at Chevy Chase, Max Landis, and Dan Schneider!’  ‘Okay that just made me feel a lot better.’  ‘Yeah, and no matter what we do we will always be together.’  ‘True.’  ‘Also Kim Woodburn and Betelgeuse are in that house too. If anyone can teach them a lesson, it’s those two.’

‘Thanks guys.’  Anglo was glad to be in Hufflepuff with Corey and Oats, because he could spend time with them there, and was glad that his idol Stephen Hillenburg was there.  

“What a wonderful time we are having.”

“Oh yes…”

He smiled as he saw Janice and Dr Teeth had also been sorted into that house and they all gathered up for some snacks before lunch together, Corey and Oats could not wait to tell everyone about the fun they were having.

They took part in various spell demonstrations and practiced magic together as they all had a wonderful time,  after doing so they decided to have some afternoon tea. They played around and had fun for a couple of hours, exploring the school and taking part in magic lessons.

An hour later Mel told them it was time to go home they all said goodbye to their friends including the Adantamiums as they hopped through another portal, the other portal took them all back home to their home in Nile Road, they all arrived back at Nile Road and they looked around.

They played around in the lounge and told all their friends all about their adventure, and which houses they got sorted into and how fun it was, and they had dinner followed by a games session.  They emailed Jill about their adventure afterwards.

They all raced into the bedroom as Corey put on his bat pajamas and Oats put on his pink nightgown,  they brushed their teeth in the bathroom before heading back to the bedroom.  Once back in the bedroom they gathered some friends to snuggle up with.

After picking some friends to snuggle up with they all jumped into bed and Anglo turned off the light before using his own light to help them, as classical music along with Wailleo’s soothing whale songs helped them drift off into sleep.

When they drifted off to sleep, they all had dreams of their magical Hogwarts adventure and all of their friends, and thus their adventure and their day had come to a conclusion, but more are coming up.  So please stay tuned.

[howaboutcastiel-personal]

Journal Entry for Tuesday, February 13, 2024:

Because all I did today was shower, make slaw, fold clothes, and wrap legs. Tomorrow’s plan

I did not get out of bed until 11:30. I likely won’t sleep until 1:30. I’ll set my alarm forward to 8:00. Then set a secondary alarm for 9:45.

For breakfast I should drink a cup of coffee with oat milk, no sugar. Breakfast should either be eggs and toast, a peanut butter sandwich, or cottage cheese with multigrain crackers. Also, I should drink at least 24 oz of water.

Take my meds. Take both vitamins as well. And then brush my teeth.

Yoga and stretching for 10 minutes after getting dressed. Doesn’t matter what it is, just move around for 10 minutes in a not-just-walking way.

Clean the kitchen. Dishes should be mostly done—do them again. There will be breakfast dirty dishes. Organize the cabinet, clean out the fridge, clean off the table. It’s trash day, so do a full purge.

Lunch should be a chicken bowl, burritos, tuna salad, or leftovers from Mimi’s. Depending on what breakfast was. Dinner will be chicken pie.

No TikTok, no Sims. Only allowed to watch cable television or Deadwood. Or non-sims YouTube, but only if a new video is posted.

Walk the dog at least twice. Step goal is 4000, and he hasn’t gotten to walk lately.

Cut the chicken before boiling it. Cut down cook time, cool time, and make shredding easier. Green beans and corn to go with it. If there’s not corn, do macaroni and cheese.

Drink at least 32 more oz of water. Goal is a total of 96 oz. No more than one glass of tea.

Other stuff

Goal is to write that next chapter of New Way. If able or possible, read one fic under 30,000 words.

Draw something freehand with pencil. With pen. With crayon. With crayola markers.

[thaoilations]

Thao sent the ‘Come outside we’re getting coffee’ text. Mimi loves that text.

She was wearing a black tank top and fold over Victoria’s Secret leggings, the most Sunday outfit to ever exist. She pulled on her Uggs at a speed you wouldn’t believe, grabbed a blanket and her keys and ran out the door. Thao was sat in the drivers seat of her car, with such a confidence you’d think she owned the apartment complex. She rolled down her window as Mimi approached with an excited grin. “Go back and get a hoodie.” She ordered exasperatedly.

“I have my blanket!” She defended in a high pitched voice, flapping her arms and squinting up at the sky as it started to spit with rain.

“Alright.” T shook her head, and Mimi happily bounced round to the passenger seat, climbing in. “Didnt even have time to put on a bra?” Thao mocked light heartedly and Mimi sent her a faux sweet smile.

“Nope.” She chimed before pulling her in for a kiss probably too passionate for the moment but you know, it was Mimi. She needed what she needed when she needed it.

As they pulled out onto the street the rain picked up, and Mimi located the button that controlled the heating and turned it up, snuggling down further into her pink blanket. T turned the music up slightly, Flowers in December by Mazzy Star playing. T probably wouldn’t appreciate being ogled at, so Mimi made sure to be subtle about it, leaning back into her seat with a smile. She was in a sweatshirt and sweatpant material shorts, leaning back a little in her seat, necklace peaking out of her collar. At the red light Mimi pretended that her sweater had some kind of fluff on it so she had an excuse to touch her and she picked off the imaginary lint ball, flicking it away and as she pulled her hand away the driver caught it, running her thumb over the back of her soft hand, bringing it slowly back to Mimis thigh letting it rest there, her own hand laying on top of hers until the green light showed and she needed her hand back. Mimi had butterflies and felt giddy, still not used to the way she made her feel.

They pulled into the drive-thru queue and Mimi pondered over what she wanted. “Can I have what you got me that one time.” She asked as politely as she could, Thao stared at her blankly at her vagueness.

“Right. And what would that be dear.”

“Um…” She frowned, zero recollection of the name. “The one I had when you got Starbucks with Cooper and brought it back for me. I didn’t know what it was but you said I would like it and I did.”

T’s face lit up in recognition. “Oh, uh — the fucking… iced oat milk sugar cookie latte.” She recalled and Mimi grinned.

“Yes can I have that please?”

“Its cold, you want a cold drink?”

“I liked it.”

“Alright.” She didn’t sound convinced, but pulled up to the window anyway ordering Mimis drink and her own Americano.

Mimi liked driving around the city. Dallas wasn’t at all like London. Everything was so far apart, vast, huge in scale. They were quiet for the most part, driving around having here and there conversation as Mimi took in the sights she still wasn’t used to during the rainy afternoon. The car was warm and the windows were cold and wet, and finally T pulled into their spot in an empty lot having finished her drink.

“Alright.” T nodded towards the back, before sliding out of her door and walking round to the backseats. Mimi smiled happily, glad to be getting so much attention. She got into the backseat and Thao extended an arm, slouching down into the seat spread out as she got comfortable and Mimi was fast to shuffle right up into her, laying her cheek by her collar bone and wrapping an arm around her stomach.

“I don’t wanna go to work tomorrow.” Mimi huffed as her girlfriend relaxed in her embrace.

“Why not?” She responded, but didn’t really require much answer. Who the hell wanted to work on a Monday?

“Just don’t. Wanna stay home with you.” She pouted.

“Ah. Can’t you call out? You can literally work from home I don’t know why you never do.” Thao suggested.

“Because you’re not there. It’s a long day when I have to wait for you. I have to wear all your clothes so I feel like you’re with me.” Mimi giggled at her own confession making T chuckle quietly, pulling her closer and manoeuvring them to lay a little more. Thao stroked the brunettes hair back for a moment thinking.

“Shall I call off tomorrow too. We can have another day like this.” She shrugged, seeming nonchalant despite the fact she’d also rather be together. Mimis head shot up excitedly nearly downright head butting the older faux red head and she grinned toothily.

“Really?” She nearly squealed.

“Yeah.” The other girls voice was softer and more tired and it made Mimi’s heart do that clenchy thing.

“Okay. Deal. Play hooky.” Mimi solidified, thrusting her pinkie finger between the two of them. T pulled her closer by her pinkie finger and kissed her a lot deeper than she was expecting, and what was just a kiss turned to Mimi panting and moaning with pink cheeks and fogged up car windows. (And the consequence of cleaning herself up with a Starbucks napkin, which apparently was the direct result of her not wearing a bra for the drive.)

They were reluctant to get back in the front, but honestly it was getting kind of cramped and hot back there so they decided to keep driving. It was dark now anyway. Arriving home, talking about everything and anything, they fed themselves and the pets before lounging around for hours to come watching movies, knowing tomorrow they had nowhere to be the next day.

[boyswanna-be-her]

What real life song do you sing to your pets the most often?

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Not One of Many - Chapter Seven.

Surprise update time! Oh yeah, we’re doing it, besties! I kind of felt like the previous chapter wasn’t as well received as the previous ones, so I’m feeling a little insecure and hoping this one will be. Looking forward to your thoughts, as ever :) 

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,186

Warnings - Bit of smut in this one! Minors DNI!

He knew it was causing a rift with Talia, he knew it well, but that Saturday night, Alfie did as had begun to become the usual; he took both Amira and Mimi to bed with him after they’d arrived back home.  

The prospect of two of his girls at once was never something he was strong enough to turn down, lying on his back, his cock in Amira’s mouth, Mimi astride his face, his mouth hungry at her folds, sucking as she shook against him, his tongue seeking her clit with keen licks, his hands grasping at her tits. They were the only part of her he wished he could change, the fact that she’d had breast implants. They looked great, but didn’t feel it. He’d rather play with real, small boobs than big, plastic ones. He kept that to himself, though, loving her too much to ever voice that to her.

Moving his hands, he slid them down her amazing curves, grasping her bum as he drove his tongue inside her, Mimi crying out loudly. “Yeah, you like that, darlin’? Like it when I tongue fuck your pretty little hole?”

“Oh my god, fuck yes!” she panted, her nails raking down his arms as she leaned back, riding his tongue, his beard tickling at her, hand spanking her bum hard a few times in quick succession. He then returning his licks to her clit with a grunt as he felt Amira move to envelop his cock within her heat, her arms snaking around Mimi, playing with her nipples as she kissed the side of her neck.  

It was a blazing tempest of pleasure for the three of them, but perhaps none more so than Mimi, Amira’s hand slipping down to grasp at the butt plug rooted deep inside her, beginning to work it back and forth, Mimi’s cries reaching crescendo. “Come on, baby girl. Cum for us.” Amira encouraged, Alfie wrapping her clit in his full lips and sucking until she broke apart, her body shaking against her lovers, breathless in the wake of such a beautiful surge.  

“Oh, bloody hell, I’m ruined!”

Alfie grunted with laugher, turning his head to bite her inner thigh. “Not yet you ain’t, love.”

None of them were, having their usual wild time in a variety of different trysts, Alfie fucking Mimi from behind while she licked at Amira’s clit, working a dildo in and out of her, the women trading places, both of them sucking on his cock at the same time, and to finish, Mimi bound in rope as she sat astride Amira, bouncing on the strap on she wore, Alfie behind her, his finger plunging in and out of her arsehole, wishing she was brave enough to take him anally. None of his girlfriends were, though, and for that, he couldn’t fault them. He knew how massive his cock was.  

They fell asleep at somewhere close to 2am, Alfie wrapped around Amira, her own arms cuddling Mimi close to her. He woke up 7:45am, heading to the gym for a workout before hitting the shower, throwing on a pair of clean sweats and venturing up to the kitchen, where he found Beth sitting at her laptop, typing away while eating toast.

“Alright, flower. How’d you sleep?”

“Very well with the assistance of earplugs, thanks. You were right, they worked.” Chewing on the crispy crust of her toast, she smiled over the top of her screen at him, Alfie chuckling deeply as he went about preparing a smoothie for his breakfast. Spinach, ginger, apples, garlic, turmeric and oat milk. Amira referred to it as the death smoothie, because after trying a sip one time, she’d declared she’d rather die than ever do so again.  

“How’s that article of yours coming along, then?” he inquired, after the whirl of the blender had ceased, pouring the green concoction into a glass and walking over to sit down.  

“I’m making decent progress, a tentative start, but mostly what I have is note form and the quotes I’m using directly from Amira and Mims,” she began, Alfie smiling fondly.

“I like how you just called her Mims. She really likes you, you know.” It had made him beam the previous night, watching Mimi excitedly take Beth’s hand as they walked to the car, telling her how fabulous she looked. And she had. She’d been wearing an Alexander McQueen dress, teamed with the same Louboutin heels she’d worn when he first met her, looking absolutely stunning to him. If only she was welcoming to the idea of joining him and the girls. Nothing would have made him happier than to have her as his fourth.  

“I like her too. She’s very unassuming, has a lovely unjaded attitude that I think most of us all possessed when we were twenty-one. She’s carefree. She’s taking me to the stables later today so we can go for a ride together.”

“Yeah, she’s still got that little sparkle about her that people have before life smacks the shit out of ‘em a bit. It’s that sparkle I fell for,” he spoke fondly, smiling. “And yeah, she mentioned it when I got up, but said she wanted a few more hours in bed first. Poor little muffin, she’s proper knackered!”

It didn’t take a genius to work out why that was, exactly, Beth not sitting well with the little sliver of envy that flushed through her momentarily. “Do you have any free time later, at all? I’d like to speak to you again before I leave in the morning, get a few more quotes, some further questions answered as well.”

He looked pained for a moment, shaking his head. “I’m working all day today. Got a few meetings I need to head out to and then I’ll be chained to my office for the duration. About that, though, you leaving in the morning. How would you like to stay longer, say, another week or two? I don’t think seven days is particularly long enough a time to get everything you need, really, come to think of it.”

“I think I could definitely benefit from a longer stay, certainly. Won’t it cause issues, though, with Talia?”

He sniffed with nonchalance, sipping a bit more of his smoothie. “That’s her problem. She don’t fuckin’ dictate to me. I’ve reassured the girl all I can, it’s up to her if she believes me or not. When you three went for a little dance at the bar last night, she was still bangin’ on about it while we were at the table, going on and bloody on. It’s like rubbing salt in the wounds.”

“Is it? How so?”

He smiled ruefully, leaning a little closer to her. “Because I want you to be here all the time, and you don’t want that. Now I’ve got her in my bleedin’ ear, reminding me of what I can’t have, and I don’t like it when I don’t get my own way.”

“Ahh,” Beth sighed, looking back to her computer. “I can understand why such would frustrate you.”

He widened his eyes a little, gulping back more of the smoothie. “I don’t wanna talk about it, though. Fed up of it.” He paused for a few moments, leaning back against the comfy seats, his abs flexing deliciously as he did. There it was, the throb deep within her, Beth’s eyes flitting back to the screen again as she tightened her thighs. “You know what, love? You’ve been here a week, asking your questions to us, but no one has asked you anything back, or at least, I ain’t done that. So, tell me, Bethany Drake. What are your favourite things?”

She was momentarily perplexed by the spontaneity of his question. “My favourite things?”

“Yeah! What makes you smile, makes you happy, gives you joy, all that. I feel like I want to get to know the woman staying in my house a bit better, since I’ve been too bloody busy to give you much of my time.”  

“In what context?”

“Anything! Everything, from inanimate items, to animals, to weather, to sex, to music, to times of year. All of it. What makes Bethany with the lovely legs happy?”

“Okay, um. Where to begin?” she thought on it for a moment, before beginning to rattle off a list in no particular order. “Old books, brushed cotton sheets, spring rain, dark red nail polish, the sunrise somewhere beautiful, the sea, horses, when babies giggle, Jo Malone candles, white chocolate, anal sex, writing notes with a fountain pen, Magda’s humour – she's my bestie, by the way – her husband’s curry, otters, Josh Homme’s voice, cinnamon pastries, Victoria’s Secret undies, sea lions, white roses, Audrey Hepburn, Beethoven, the smell in the air just before a storm, cherries, Kurt Geiger bags, spaniels, Arthur Miller’s entire body of work, matzo’s, Picasso, Cabernet Sauvignon. Sorry, am I talking too much?”

“No! Continue!” He’d fallen into somewhat of a daze when she’d mentioned anal sex, imagining her being brave enough to take him, how much praise he’d lavish on her if she could, but had pulled himself from the fantasy to continue listening intently.

“Teasing and being teased, Louboutin’s, candyfloss, my bubbe’s tomato soup, Greece, sangria, Van Halen, cherry blossoms, Human Traffic – although my all-time favourite film is Casablanca – William Shakespeare, oversized sweaters, Gilmore Girls, Ugg boots, pumpkin spiced latte’s, the smell of fabric softener, sparkling water on a hot day, baby turtles, Hanukkah, Grey Goose, Maria Callas, chess, a man in a well-tailored suit...”

The way he grinned there prompted her giggles, Alfie trying not to look so pleased at that. “That got more of a reaction than the revelation that I love anal,” she commented, watching him hide his face in his hands for a second.  

“Don’t, because you don’t even want to know where my mind went, hearing that. And I’m trying to be good, so carry on,” he groaned, Beth’s laughter escalating.  

“I think I can guess, Alfie,” she teased, his dirty laugh filling the kitchen before she continued. “Alright. Um... scrambled eggs, Barbara Walters, peonies, Mickey Flanagan, Led Zeppelin, New York, fudge brownies, Siamese cats, cheese, old furniture, Madonna, oral sex, vintage typewriters, Mademoiselle perfume, old castles, the feeling of waking up and knowing I don’t have to be anywhere, autumn walks, the little coffee shop on Oxford Street, Bach, Phyllis Diller’s laugh, frozen margarita’s, shibari, red velvet cake, sunflowers, Corinne Bailey Rae, vintage Aston Martin’s, the word shenanigans, Sex and the City, freshly baked bread, daisies, salmon, and now I really feel like I’m going on and bloody on!”

He chuckled, leaning against his hand, thinking her so utterly lovely. He often asked new girlfriends this, and for the most part, all he’d received were superficial answers. No one told him their simple pleasures, like she just had, and he found it refreshing, for it was exactly what he wanted to hear. Beth had understood the assignment.  

“You’re not. You’re bloody lovely, you know that?”

She smiled a little shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’m told I’m not bad.”  

“Don’t be fuckin’ coy. You know you’re amazing.” Reaching for her, he stroked her cheek with his thumb, not able to help himself. God, she was just so radiant, so fascinating. All he wanted to do in that moment was to sit and ask her why each of those things made her so happy, hear her tell him stories relating to each and why they sparked joy in her.  

“What about you? What makes Alfie Solomons happy?” She really wanted to know in that moment, and if she was honest, the desire to discover more had nothing to do with her article. The way he smiled at her, how he’d just caressed her cheek. She felt a little giddy.  

He didn’t get chance to answer, though, Talia entering the kitchen. “Morning, sweetheart. You alright?”  

“Yes, thanks,” she replied succinctly, moving to give him a kiss before heading for the fridge, pulling out a carton of orange juice and pouring herself a glass.  

“Oh, just to let you know, Beth is staying on with us a bit longer.” The look she shot at him made her feelings very clear, Beth quickly powering off her laptop, wanting to be able to escape rapidly, should there be a blow up between the two. Anything that might have happened was swiftly shot down before it had chance to escalate by the entrance of a bubbly Mimi, her greeting of ‘hello!’ booming through the kitchen, kissing Alfie and then pointing at Beth.

“Come on! Clothes on, face washed! We have ponies to go and ride!”  

“I’m all washed, I’ll have you know. Bear with, let me just go and dress. Can I still borrow some boots and half chaps?”  

“Already popped them in your room, and a pair of jodhpurs too, since we’re roughly the same size.” With the atmosphere seeming to build, Beth made a quick getaway, Mimi saying she’d meet her outside. She was halfway up the stairs when the almighty row kicked off in the kitchen, wincing for Alfie, who was catching the full brunt of Talia’s ire. They were still in full swing ten minutes later when she left the house, Mimi waving to her from behind the wheel of Alfie’s brand-new Range Rover, clicking the door open.  

“Let’s get out of the war zone, shall we?” she cringed, clicking the gate fob and waiting for them to swing open. “I feel bad at leaving him there to deal with it, but I don’t think I’d have been much use. She’s really getting herself all wound up over nothing. It’s been building for a few weeks, all this. I don’t know, she’s making a thing for her thing, what’s it called, a pole for her back?”

“A rod for her own back?” Beth offered.

“That’s it! But yeah, if she carries on, I can’t see him standing for it much longer. My boyfriend doesn’t have the best patience in the world, in fact I’d say it was his only fault, that he has a really short fuse, but there’s only so many times he can tell her the same flippin’ thing.” Pausing while she waited for a break in the traffic, Mimi sighed, turning left onto Fulham Road and thanking the van driver who had just let her out.  

“I agree. I should remain impartial, considering my place in your home is to observe, but quietly, I think that’s correct. Alfie is the kind of man who would unequivocally just come out and say it, if he only wanted you and Amira, going forward. He doesn’t seem the type who would suffer having someone under his roof unless he really wanted them there.”

“Oh, you’re so right! He wouldn’t, that’s not in his nature. He really does want her there, he loves her, for heaven’s sake, but she isn’t making it easy. He told us that he’d spend more time with her and he has since she apparently requested such, but she’s still being paranoid. Alfie is straight up; he doesn’t hold back his true feelings. He tells you how it is, and sometimes that’s hard to hear, but ultimately, he’s an honest guy. She’s been with him longer than I have, yet I feel I understand him better, because I take what he says as the complete truth. She thinks somehow, she’s being hoodblinked.”

“Hoodwinked,” Bath softly corrected.  

“Oh!” Mimi burst out laughing, shaking her head. The brain of Britain, the young blonde most certainly was not, but she had a good head on her shoulders. She was definitely more secure in her relationship and trusting of Alfie than Talia had slowly become to be.  They arrived at the stables forty minutes later, the horses kept just outside of London, Mimi finding them to have been groomed and prepared for her arrival already, since Alfie paid for them to be on full livery. This meant that someone would tend to them for the owner morning and night, which freed up Mimi’s time.

While they rode, Mimi aboard Bryn and Beth on the immaculately well-behaved Sunny, she thought back to her time at the kitchen table that morning, the way Alfie had looked at her as she’d listed off her long list of things that brought her pleasure. They clicked, she couldn’t deny it, and she’d known since she very first time she’d had lunch with him, that feeling now seeming to have grown more for being in his home. While Mimi rode off to take her bigger horse over a few cross-country fences, Beth riding Sunny on along the tree line, she considered her options.  

Would she be prepared to write off something she felt might be very wonderful between she and Alfie, all because she didn’t enjoy the idea of sharing him? Could she open herself up to being more carefree where monogamy was concerned, and realise that while one day, he could perhaps fall in love with her and they have a very real relationship, he’d also have something equally loving and real with the three others in his life?

This was where she knew she had to halt herself, lest tumble down the rabbit hole into a topsy turvy world, like Alice. Except Beth knew she should not fall carelessly into Wonderland. It gave her pause for thought, asking herself the question, now such had been stirred within her, how much of themselves, their own wants, their own comfort, were women willing to put aside, in order to be with Alfie Solomons?  

She was watching it play out right now in the difficulties between he and Talia. It was a cautionary tale, and she knew this well, because she knew in her heart, not having him entirely would never be enough, and unlike the slew of women before her, she could not put that onto the table as her compromise. Many could, three currently did, and in return, they received a piece of him, but never the entire Alfie. Taking her phone out, she recorded verbal notes to reflect that, which not only would be used for her article, but at any point, in her yet-to-be-determined stay, where she felt herself losing her head to his charms.  

“I am not one of many, and I never will be.”  

“Shall we go for a gallop?” Mimi called, cantering back over from the scarily huge fence she’d just jumped Bryn over, Beth returning her phone to her jacket pocket and zipping it safely inside.  

“Yes, perfect.” It was, too, the cool rush of air hitting her face as she negotiated little Sunny over the terrain at top speed, the thunder of hooves and the horse’s snorts clearing her head. There was a sense of relief and freedom from her thoughts, right there, at flat out gallop that she sorely needed, blowing away the dangerous territory her mind had begun to wander into.  

And then she pictured the way he’d smiled at her that morning, feeling butterflies cascade through her tummy. This did not bode well.

[mimithings97]

The Jeons: Chapter 1

Summary: Meet Lyle. Lyle once liked to watch the sunset over the Seine, but now his prized possessions are his peloton bike and the cryptic crossword in his local paper.

Anne is his wife. Anne wants the best for her children, but the constant lying is putting a strain on the family dynamic. And nothing makes Anne's skin crawl like bad blood.

Noah is the youngest. Noah likes to think he's simple but he's by far the most complex. The main character syndrome really pop's off with him (albeit subconsciously), and Noah's starting to wonder why Ruby Day smells so nice.

Y/N just wants a break. Her family are dysfunctional and her hometown is starting to resemble the Simpson's Movie, but Y/N can't work out what's keeping her here. The house next door that oozes sex and bad influence has got her name on it though.

Warnings: So far none, unless you've never watched The Godfather. Then: Deceased animal corpses, mutilation, rare steaks, mentions of drug use and inherently British plot points. This will later include: sex, graphic and gory descriptions, drug use and even more goodness (unknown).

Members: Jungkook/Reader, as well as other family dynamics

Word count: 7k

P.S. Hi. Me again. This kind of functions as a prologue, but if I write that on the heading then no one would ever read this. It's less of a work of fan-fiction and more just a scribble of abstaining vampires, bad family dynamics and a deeply confused, but horny, reader. I won't promise anymore chapters as to not disappoint and this is different from anything I've written before, but enjoy all the same. Love, Mimi x

Part 1 - Lyle and the baby spork

Lyle hated summer. No. Specifically Lyle hated the sun. Heat and humidity were two factors he was well equipped to deal with and, frankly, he swore that excessively sweating through his peloton sessions was making him lose more weight than in the winter. He’d never minded the heat when he and Anne had lived in Barcelona and he didn’t mind it now as the heatwave struck its seventh day and the local newspaper displayed in bold headline lettering that the ‘HOSEPIPE BAN FOR THE EAST’ was in full swing. The heat, whilst sometimes bothersome, was not Lyle’s issue. 

“Mum, it’s not that bad”

“I’m not saying it’s bad, honey, but if you want any help with anything then me and dad are here.” 

“I’m not a charity case, mum, I’m just shit at maths.”

“But you’ve got to pass somehow, Noah. I mean-” she huffs, “Lyle, any help here.”

Lyle squints up from his bowl of cinnamon baked oats (with extra protein powder) and strains against his sun-induced headache. Both Anne and Noah look at him for answers, as though negotiating these types of discussions has ever been his strong point. 

“Just listen to your mum, Noah.” Is what he settles for. Both his wife and son sigh, and his copped out answer has done little to stop their bickering as Noah heads for the front of the house. Lyle looks back at his baked oats, contemplating the grainy, dry mouthful that he’s got balancing on his baby spork. Well, that’s what happens when you forget your adult chores like putting the dishwasher on, you only get left with the kiddy stuff. His own daughter had said that to him. The sun had only just gotten over the horizon then. Everything was much easier to deal with unlike now. 

Lyle checks his watch. 8:35am. 

“Y/N!” Anna shouts from the front door. 

Like clockwork, his daughter comes down the stairs, his son mutters something about her having bad breath and not brushing her teeth, and the front door shuts for the 18th successive time without a goodbye from his wife. 

Part 2 - Anna and the Godfather Part I

Anna knew nothing about horses. Sure, she’d dabbled in the old Grand Nation gambling from year to year, but she wouldn’t be able to tell you a stallion from a… stallionette? What she does know, however, is that this one is a dead horse. Or was, at least, since the only remnant to be left on Jerry McCallum’s field is his horse's head. It sits limply amongst the yellow toned grass, (not the kind for grazing) and, for some reason, Anna thinks about the fact this poor horse might not have got a good last meal considering the drought. 

“And when did you say you found it?” 

“J-Just this morning, maybe around, I don’t know, nine-thirty.” Poor Jerry is stumbling through his words, still a little tear stricken, and you try to sooth him with a sympathetic look, but you doubt he can see much past his shock right now. 

A fucking horse head. 

Last night had been hot again, and equally, today was a scorcher. The blood in the surrounding grass is mostly dry but the head looks fresh enough that this wasn’t yesterday’s work. 

Anna feels a slight spark of concern in her stomach. Clad head to toe in black, she wonders if it’s the heat that is making her anxious. Lyle used to tell her she looked hot when she was sweaty - all red cheeked like you’re freshly fucked. She’s hot but certainly not red cheeked considering the circumstances. And certainly not freshly fucked she thinks, as well.

“Listen, Jerry, we’re taking this very seriously. I’ve got another couple officers on the way just to come and ask a few more routine questions, but what I’m gonna need from you is to give us a bit of space to do our job. This is a crime scene, so we’re gonna have to work on it a bit.” Edmunds asks if that’s okay with him and Jerry just nods. 

Anna briefly wonders if she should call Lyle. Half a horse corpse is something a little extraordinary, and not quite routine procedure all things considered. Because who the hell would want horse meat. Anna accidentally laughs aloud when she mentally answers Asda.

Part 3 - Noah and an extraordinary back-of-head

With maths out of the way already, Noah felt like there was a little extra wiggle room to play dead today. Chemistry hadn't put a dent in proceedings and PE wasn’t going to be an issue considering his overused medical note. 

The only thing that breathes a little extra life into Noah today is the sandwich in front of him. Leftover BBQ pork and coleslaw. His mum might nag but she’s got the whole packed lunch thing down to a science. 

It’s somewhat peaceful in his little corner. Most of the students are out basking in the sun. The year 10s and 11s are having a football tournament at the back of the field. It’s already seen two players grate their knees on the dusty terrain - grass turned to concrete considering the lack of rainfall. There’s some girls having a water fight by the big chestnut tree. And behind him, Noah can hear the drama kids dramatically arguing through their rehearsal. He thinks they’re dumb considering they literally have 6 allocated hours a week to rehearse but chose to live night and day by their scripts instead. 

Maybe he should take up a hobby, Noah briefly wonders. But as the saying goes, you should never wonder about personal hobbies when Ruby Day walks across your path and lets you watch the back of her head fade across the field. And once again, Noah has it reconfirmed that it’s the most extraordinary back-of-a-head he gets to look at. 

Noah is well versed in the back of Ruby Day’s head. Unlike maths, he is interested enough to study it well since she lets him sit behind her in both Geography and History. Sometimes it changes. Sometimes Ruby likes to tie her hair back with a scrunchie (she tends to rotate between three different coloured velvet ones, but red is her favorite), often she’ll wear it down her back, showing off its natural wave. But his favorite, and the piece de resistance of all Ruby Day hairstyles, is her Tortoiseshell Clip. Admittedly it’s all hidden away when it’s up, but that’s not what Noah is getting at. No, on Ruby’s Clip days, Noah has the perfect view of it… the swish, the raking of her hands through her scalp, the way her nails split apart certain strands and the way she delicately twists her hair before carefully and finally, fixing it in The Clip. Now don’t get it wrong, Noah is aware he is a 16 year old who loves porn just as much as the next adolescent boy, but never, ever, would he chose surfing the web for a 55 minute video of milf spreads her legs for stepson over those sweet 10 seconds he gets of Ruby Day’s back-of-head.

Touch grass, pervert, Noah thinks. And once again, the most interesting thing going on in Noah’s life is a meat sandwich. 

Part 4 - You and unsolicited pics

Mr Scotts a pedo

It’s engraved into the plastic of the desk. Never to be wiped off or erased, and certainly not to be replaced considering this school couldn't even budget working hand dryers into their finances. Instead, the legacy of Mr Scott lives on. Beyond this simple table vandalism as well, because Mr Scott was, in fact, a pedophile. Poor Jessica Harris. 

You find the etched words between your textbook and laptop, and far more eye-catching than working conditions in 19th century Siberia, however you do contend that a little ice cold tundra wind wouldn’t go amiss right now. 

“So, did Jack come over last night in the end?”

“Ha.” You laugh, “Wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole.” 

Pip looks at you with an eyebrow raised. 

“But you said-”

“Yehh, I know what I said.” You pause, “A momentary lapse in judgment it seems.”

“I mean you’ve already touched him so it-”

“Pip, trust me, the reminder is enough of a deterrent.” Jack is tall, facially average, and has the vocabulary of a thirteen year old Call of Duty player. He severely over uses Lynx Africa and the only reason you know this is you were unfortunate (but stupid) enough to wind up having his hand up your top on Abby Crofts trampoline. “He’s not gonna have the privilege again because I shall never speak nor see him.”

“Pff,” Pip scoffs into the chewed end of her pen, “good luck with that. Matt’s party’s on Friday and you get super horny when you drink.” 

“Hence messaging him yesterday.” You close your book, frustrated with the Russian exile system but more frustrated with your past self. Your past self was a hideous, treacherous version of who you are today and you’re adamant her only function is sabotage. 

Yesterday was a Sunday. And for whatever reason Sunday seemed to be the only day in which harmony and familial attachment showed its face within your household. Dinner is served as a collective, red wine gets drunk by the bottle, a board game or two get played, and you’re sure it’s the only day of the week your parents have sex. Gross. It’s a trivial little tradition, but without it you’re sure your family's tether would’ve snapped by now and you’d be one of those kids who participated in two christmas’ instead of one. Yesterday, then, was one of those days. And lucky Jack Springer got to be on the receiving end of a slightly misspelled drunken sext. 

You shuld come ober some time. 

You’d asked Pip if she thought it was a good idea before sending it, to which she’d said no, but alas, your past self was a saboteur.

“He just sent me a picture of his dick in reply anyways, so I’ve seen enough of him. Promise.”

“Jesus, he’s shameless.”

From above your eyeline you spot three figures halfway into the doorframe. Mrs Treby leads the charge and you almost forgot how pregnant she is. Her blouse swallows her whole and it’s a hideous enough shade of yellow that your eyes shift to the other two. An older lady and her son, presumably.

“Oh, that’s the guy I was talking about that’s starting here. Abby said he’s moved in on your road, and was gonna ask you about him.” 

You don’t recognise his face but he feels familiar. The lighting where he stands is a little botched but you can make out his features well enough. He’s Asian, you notice initially, which is rather striking considering your town demographic was whiter than bad cocaine (that shit gets riddled with talcum powder). And he’s confident. You think it’s in his stanced but then, his sight draws on yours, and you know it’s in his eyes. It’s a little annoying. It makes your eyes water. And for the first time in this class, your Russian history textbook gets all your attention. 

“Meh, he seems normal.”

Part 5 - You, smoke spots and corner shops

Rayleigh doesn’t have much to offer considering it’s largely shadowed by Southend-on-sea. There’s the occasional tasteful BnB for couples who want to reinvigorate their relationships with a staycation, and the pubs are pretty decent too, but mostly it’s a filler town. Those ones that you’ll never have heard of but everyone seems to call quaint. (Ray-leigh. You always thought it sounded like that baby from Twilight). The bus home, then, isn’t much for window leaning. Noah takes that role and remains awfully quiet, clad in his uniform and face still oily because of the sunscreen mum was adamant on plastering him with. My foundation has spf30 in it, mum. Luckily you get to remain oil free. 

The kids who walk home from school are all gathered by The Cornershop. It’s slightly biblical how every student from Rayleigh High flocks to this central spot - and it’s not even central - some beacon of sugary goods and post lesson sausage rolls. You went on the crusade to The Cornershop once, on a day with a little drizzle and wanting to prove yourself ‘like one of the other girls’ to your new ‘boyfriend’ Callum. One packet of jaffa cakes later and you’d decided that everyone's afternoon ritual wasn’t worth the hype and neither was Callum. 

I don’t think we should be together anymore. We’ll NEVER work. 

Poor Callum. He never stood a chance.

Once the bus takes the left hand folk away from the entrance to the A20, everything becomes a bit more serene. Bricks turn to branches and cackling school children turn to gaggling geese from the roadside river. If you head under a bridge further up, there’s an almost untouched spot where the river is merely knees deep, perfectly still and harbors some of the most relaxed smoking air you’ve found. 

The trees around here were the home to your old dog walking route (and also poor Doolie’s resting place), your homemade rope swing, the old children’s park that got closed down after an unsolved murder and then your house. 

Your life. Encapsulated into one single bus journey. You tend not to dwell in the dullness of that statement but find joy in that everything you treasure can be met with just a single bus ticket. Apart from Pip’s house - she lives in Southend. 

“Do you think mum’s cheating on dad?” Noah’s head is fixed to the window but the glass steams with his speech. 

“What the fuck, Noah. I- no, of course not.” But for a brief second you contemplated it. And you have over the recent month or so. The sliver of doubt that, because children ultimately know nothing about their parents, all sorts could go on in a marriage. 

“I don’t know.” He goes silent for a minute. Then continues, “I just think, he doesn’t look at her a certain way. She still seems happy, but not with him, never really in his company.” 

“So what if he’s cheated on mum instead?” You hypothesize.

“No. Not that. He wouldn’t do that.”

You scoff. Every man cheats, it's just a case of if he gets caught. Pip’s mum had said that. But you think Noah’s right - that doesn’t seem like something your dad would have the willpower to do.

“I just wonder if he’s driven mum to look elsewhere. You know. He’s always home but never really there and a woman- or a wife, I guess, will want more than that. She deserves to be dotted over and pampered and made special-.”

“Woah woah woah, Romeo, starting to sound like an excerpt from Shakespeare in Love there.”

He blushes a little, and tilts his head down, “I don’t know.”

You look at him for a minute. And you can tell he’s nervously cowering away from your glare. “You got a girlfriend or something I don’t know about.”

“Shh- shut i-”

“Skids’ got a girlfriend! Fuck off.” You look to your right to find four boys all facing each other, two clambered on the chairs to face backwards and the other two looking over towards you. All four, skinny. All four, around Noah’s age. “No girl would touch him.”

“Nor would a guy.”

“He’s probably a gayboy anyway.” They all laugh at the ginger one with freckles. Scrawny. You could snap him in two. 

“What did you just say about my brother?” It’s the ginger twig you ask. He doesn’t seem too fazed but isn’t inclined to make any more comments.

“Y/N, please don’t!” Noah whispers, and you turn to find his gaze a pleading one. He’s stricken with embarrassment, enough so he’s trembling a little and you find it hurts your stomach. A deep gut pain.

“That’s bullying, Noah.” You don’t whisper it, but you also don’t entertain the continued jeering behind you. He’s gonna cry. Ha, we’re bullies apparently. “How can y-”

“Please just stop.” 

“No, I-”

“Y/N, please,” he bargains. He then turns away after one last slightly tearful look. His shoulders rise and fall with a single gulf of air, and then he’s turning, reaching across you, and pressing the STOP button on the bus. 

Ding.

Part 6 - Noah and the case of the skidmark

Noah isn’t one to live in the past or contemplate past events. He began theorizing years ago that people who live to regret past mistakes can become withdrawn, unforgiving of themselves and others, and ultimately become a little ghostly. Noah tends to live by life in its most simple form - what he can see, hear, smell, feel and taste. He finds joy in the multitude of tree types around his house, listening to Solomon Burke sing Cry to Me on a vintage record player, the smell of roast beef, how Ruby Day’s hair feels in his dreams and the taste of lemon sherbets. Noah tries to live in the physical, not the emotional. He feels like a zombie sometimes because of it, but at least he doesn’t end up crying about people and society like his mum and sister do. 

Noah is simple like that. But right now, what he’s feeling is entirely too complex. Noah is recollecting. 

“Oh my god, Noah left a skidder!” 

Noah had always hated swimming lessons. His arms weren’t long enough to do him any good and the salty water irritated his skin no end. All the boys got really over excited about seeing the girls in their swimming costumes but Noah just worried that people got to see him in his. 

It was after Tuesday's swim session that Noah truly understood his hatred for swimming lessons. 

“Ewwww.”

“That’s so gross.”

“Bet he doesn’t wipe his bum.”

Noah was still in the showers when this took place. Everyone always dashed to use the hot water before it ran out, and all the boys wanted to be the first ones at the back of the bus also. So Noah was last again. 

When he got into the changing rooms, all the boys looked at him. Some laughed, some ran away, one clogged their nose and wretched at the sight of him. Noah had always been invisible. Sometimes he wished people would take notice of him, maybe chat and laugh with him once in a while, but then, Noah was sure invisibility was the best superpower. 

“Go wipe the toilet, skidder.” Sebastian had said. In the middle of the changing rooms was a single cubicle. There was no urinal, but a small box with a bowl and a flush in the middle. It had rust around the edges and no lock on the door, and once Noah was pushed through the frame of the cubicle, there, trailing down the white porcelain, was a brown skidmark. 

He hadn’t done it of course. Noah was too nervous to go into cubicle toilets apart from at home anyways. But the boys behind him, chanting his new nickname, had made him feel five shades of guilty. He went to wipe it away. 

“Not with that, skidder. Use these considering you probably poo in them anyway.” Sebastian was a sadistic child.

And with his gresh, folded underwear, Noah knelt down and wiped the toilet clean. 

He’d be lying if he said that moment didn’t nauseate him. That it was about the only story he couldn’t stomach and wished was completely erased from his memory. Unfortunately that day had meant Noah’s invisibility cloak was torn from him and the next 7 years were nothing but a torturous cycle of nicknames and one-way verbal encounters. 

Deep in the forest behind his house, though, Noah felt a little more protected. His breathing had just about evened out after running from the bus stop to here. His trainers had scuffed from the protruding tree roots and he’d dragged his backpack along the ground most of the way, But now Noah was unwatched, admiring the greenery and he could faintly hear the river trickling a couple hundred meters away. 

On his 7th birthday, his dad brought him out here. About a five minutes walk away from the gate at the back of their garden, right on the edge of the riverbank was a blue and yellow bench, perched upon a shaded, muddy surface and right next to a rope. Attached to the rope was a metal bar. For the next two years, Noah didn’t mind being the center of attention whenever he’d grip the metal with two hands, pull himself three or four steps backwards and hear his family cheer when he went soaring through the air before the splash. 

The bench is a little sad now, but he sits on it anyways. There’s a spot on the edge which is speckled with paint and it's where his fingers pick at now, chipping away at the brownish material which was once a canary yellow. 

It wasn’t that Noah grew out of his rope swing. That was part of it. But mostly the rope swing turned over in possession to the walkers, families and school children who ‘discovered’ it once the riverbank path was forged. From his house, Noah would be able to hear squealing and music when teenagers threw parties there. Or he’d look from his window and see children with wet hair, towels and big smiles on their way up to the road, parents in tow. But now, the path lies derelict and the rope swing out of commission. Following the unsolved murder of a student years back, no one seems to come this way anymore.

It’s just for Noah now. 

Beyond the river and in the overgrown field, he spots a figure. People don’t frequent this area, so Noah briefly wonders if it’s a scarecrow he’s never noticed or perhaps a large animal. As it moves towards a spot several hundred yards down the river though, Noah makes the figure out. A man, shirtless and hunched, carries a deer on his back. The animal must be a female, because it’s not too large and there’s no antlers that Noah can see but he wonders how heavy that dead weight must be. The man, now wading through the river, makes it out like lightwork. He throws the deer up the bank on the other side before hoisting himself out and picking the corpse back up in a bridal hold. Before entering the treeline, the man turns, faces Noah and nods his head. 

Whilst Noah shivers at a sudden brisk wind, he can’t help but think about one thing he observed just then. 

Where was the man's gun. 

Part 7 - Anne and Anne’s one, underwire bra

In between, the Yellow Tail Shiraz and Sainsbury’s Taste the Difference merlot is a gap. It’s one bottle wide and about eight bottles deep. Anne sighs. The day has been particularly long (it is the summer solstice) and particularly draining. A little pick me up would’ve done her nicely, but it turns out, for whatever reason, the drought is making people panic buy red wine of all things - and Georges Duboeuf Fleurie always gets terrible reviews for its floral aroma anyways.

Anne looks down at her basket. It’s awfully empty now that the designated section for her bottle is barren. She heads for the fruit and veg aisle, deciding that grilled peppers will go nicely with the steaks and potatoes. She picks them up quickly and leaves quicker once she gets a waft of the garlic further up the aisle - vile stuff. 

On her journey to the self checkout, Anne detours through the own-brand clothing, looking for a white blouse mostly, but never impartial to something more colorful - most things match her pale complexion and dark hair anyways. She notices a particularly nice underwear set, however. It steals her attention away from the workwear. The bra is baby blue, with a navy lace trim and scalloped underwiring. Anne looks down at her chest and then back up at the bra. Her breast would look nice sitting in those cups, dare she say attractive. She runs the thong through her fingers and it’s a little coarse, pretty impractical for underneath her trousers. Anne laughs at herself and retracts her hand. If she ever wore something like that again, it wouldn’t be for going under trousers. All she budgets for now are high waisted, Bridget-Jones knickers and sports bras. Anne decides she’s going to throw out that one underwire bra she still has in her bottom drawer and heads for the checkout. 

At home it’s peaceful. Anne checked on Y/N once she’d set the shopping away, to find her on the phone to Philippa, nattering about some kind of trampoline incident. The office door was closed, too, when she looked, and Anne had released a breath of relief at realizing she could go another few hours without making marital small talk with Lyle. 

She focuses on peeling potatoes now. Good. That’s easy enough. Mundane, routine tasks were all Anne planned around these days. It kept balance in her life and lessened her anxiety about things that were out of her control. She goes to unpacking the steaks, peeling back the vacuumed plastic before placing four sirloins onto a chopping board. She licks the residue off her fingers and looks down at each piece. They make her think about the horse head. Earlier she’d mostly worked logistics between the on scene officers and the crime team that came in from Grays Central Station, but in the back of Anne’s mind was the head itself. The vertebrae were snapped in two and muscle and ligaments were torn apart. A pure act of force. She looks at the steaks a final time before heading upstairs. 

In the home office, Anne’s husband is standing above several sheets of paper strewn haphazardly across the carpet. He peers above his glasses when she closes the door behind her. 

“Oh, you’re home.” He says with monotony. 

“Got home about an hour ago.” 

Lyle looks at his watch as though it’ll save him from looking like a bad husband who forgot his wife’s finishing time. He grimicases when faced with 6:48pm.

“Christ, sorry. Day ran away from me.” Anne can see through his damage control. Part of her wants to berate how he’s using his office as a place to distance himself as much as he can from the family, but she knows now is not the right time. She knows there’ll probably never be a right time.

She settles for a sigh. “I need to talk to you.” 

Lyle pushes his glasses further up his nose. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.” Does he think I’m going to ask for a divorse? An intrusive thought she has often. 

“At work today, we got a call in from Jerry McCallum. The guy who owns the stable’s up near Breach Farm.” 

Lyle nods in understanding.

“He found one of his horse's heads this morning. No body, just the head.”

“And what was the wound like?” His tone lilts between concern and indifference.

“More of a tear than anything, but it was forceful.”

Lyle squints and puts his hands in his pockets. “It’s probably nothing, Anne.” 

“It’s looking awfully not like nothing. The body has completely vanished. And who leaves the head behind anyways, it could be a sign or warning of some sort, Lyle,” he huffs, “Lyle, this could be serious.”

“I’m not saying don’t worry about it, I just think we keep our nose out of this.”

Anne’s frustrated now. “And how do I do that, huh? I have to stick my nose directly into this kind of thing - it’s my fucking job.”

“Language.”

She’s angry now. “Oh, jesus.” In an attempt to get some grip on the conversation, Anne pauses. “Lyle, it could be a body next. A person. And I’m not equipped to deal with that. I’ll have to call the VPU.”

“No. No VPU.”

“What d-”

“Listen, I’ll call Owen and see what’s been happening in the area. We look into this quietly before making any assumptions.” 

“And the kids?” Anne asks.

“What about the kids?”

“Do we tell them that it could be dangerous out at the moment. No going out after dark?”

Lyle contemplates for a second. “No. Like I said, just let me talk to Owen. You know what happens when Y/N hears this kind of stuff, she goes all… journalist and stuff.” 

“We’ll be lying, Lyle. Again.”

“No.” For the first time Anne’s husband looks her truely  in the eye. “We’re just not telling them the truth.”

Again.

Part 8 - Lyle and 1980s Paris

In 1982, Lyle traveled to Paris for the first time ever. One of his old university mates had his flat up for a short term lease and Lyle was in between jobs - so, it made sense. What Lyle learnt in Paris is that English people are ignorant. Well, one of the many things, but that was the first. Whilst everyone around him spoke perfect conversational English, Lyle could not speak French, and many, if not all, could use this against him. 

So Lyle was ignorant. Well, moreso oblivious, when the French girl across from him at Otto’s dinner party - the same girl he’d been fawning over and cursing he couldn’t speak to - was actually English. She held her wine glass with a sturdy hand and she had a cropped haircut that showed off her sultry blue brown eyes. She handled herself like a Frenchwoman, he thought. Whatever that meant. And whilst he’d been throwing around his cockney accent and inappropriate jokes, Lyle was oblivious that the woman across from him was completely in the loop.

He’d had sex with her that night after he drank enough wine to have the courage to say the three french words he spoke to her. She laughed and told him all about her upbringing in Carlisle and how she was in Paris studying art history. They bonded over that. Art history and both art and history separately. They talked, he’d blush and they’d kissed and she’d make him blush again. She was rather crude actually. 

He spent every day with her for the next 6 weeks before his new job in London. They drank, partied and had sex. Lyle introduced her to his way of life, and at the end of their time together, he knew she was coming to London with him. 

Lyle tried not to think about those days. They were self indulgent and dangerous. He looked across the dinner table at her now, and then looked down at his steak. And he tried not to think about how the steak made him far more happy than she did these days. 

“The family next door is all moved in now. I heard the boy’s your age, Y/N.” 

Silence.

“Noah’s getting bullied.”

“You bitch, you swore you wouldn’t tell.”

“Don’t call your sister a bitch, you know I hate that word.”

Lyle often finds his life passing like this. He’ll let his mind travel to different moments in his past life, often the most defining ones before someone around him starts speaking. They’ll remind him that this isn’t the past, he’s here, now - married, with children, working a 9 to 5 and it tends to make him feel hollow from the inside out. Even this medium rare steak can’t fill that void within. 

Noah’s getting bullied.

Statements like this don’t alarm Lyle. They should. Of course they should. He’s a father well aware of his families increasing dysfunctionality but it’s like he’s living without air and everyone’s asking him to just take a fucking breath and keep on walking. It feels hard. Draining. He often wonders if every father feels this way - completely helpless to their surroundings and as though they can do no right - but then Lyle tries to remind himself he’s no ordinary father. 

“Mum, that little ginger rat from Noah’s class was saying vulgar things, and it was clearly bullying.”

“Why don’t you liste-”

“Noah.” Anne levels. As she always does. Is this the same show I watched yesterday? That’s what Lyle thinks. That maybe his life is some pre-recorded video of a boring, argumentative family that he gets sat down to watch every breakfast and dinner. “Honey, you don’t have to be embarrassed if something’s happened, but me and your dad need to know if anyone’s giving you trouble.”

“Mummmm.” Noah groans. 

“Lyle.” Anne prompts. And once again Lyle’s cast front and center in his regularly scheduled programme.

“Yeh, mate, we’re here for you. We know it’s a hard time so don’t hesitate to talk to us.” Lyle thinks he’s genuine. 

He notices Noah cover his eyes and play with the potato on his fork. 

The next five minutes go a little like this. Anne asks if the steak is too dry, Y/N says it’s perfect. Noah hasn’t touched that potato on his fork and Lyle can’t seem to understand why his eyes have been on the front door for the last 130 seconds. He’s counted. As though waiting for something to happen. It’s dark out. The automated porch light has stayed off, but Lyle’s sure the bulb blew a couple of weeks ago anyway. For the first time in weeks, there’s a little bit of a gust outside that whistles in through the living room fireplace. Lyle doesn’t like the blood red colour of the inside of his front door anymore. Because he can’t stop looking at it. 

“I saw some man carrying a great big dead deer earlier.”

Lyle faces his son, but the door screams in his ear from afar. Look at me.

“What the hell, that’s so gross, who still hunts and eats deer.” Y/N says, outraged.

Anne is looking at Lyle. He can feel it out of the corner of his eye, but the door is blood red and screaming. 

“No, he didn’t hunt it for food I don’t think. It looked like he kind of did it for fun.”

“Noah, now I’m sure…” Anne is sputtering out some excuses. She has done for several years now as crazy events have slowly become coincidences, have become regularities. Lyle thinks back to the conversation he and his wife had earlier, then looks at the blood red front door. He needs to call Owen. 

Taste me.

“Where did you see this, Noah?” Lyle’s voice speaks for him. Because as he looks out to the blood red front door he now sees several figures between the tinted glass. They bleed into the darkness around them as Noah answers:

Just behind the house.

Lyle has the sudden urge to itch his insides. To pull his brain out with a pair of tweezers. Anne is fidgeting with his sleeve, but Lyle is waiting. From beyond the blood red door, someone’s screaming. 

And then the doorbell goes. 

Anne rises to answer, Noah forgets about his potato and Y/N mutters about Tories and deer hunting. Lyle figure’s out in the ten seconds between the sound of his doorbell and Anne turning the latch that the screaming is inside his head. It’s his voice. Take me. 

From beyond the blood red door, three people stand. 

They’re all in danger but Lyle can’t seem to move. 

“Oh, hello. You must be the new neighbors, I’m Anne.”

She used to call herself Annabelle in those six weeks before they moved to London. She was pink cheeked with blood and mortality coursing through her. Lyle thinks Anne has grown more and more naive through the decades because when the three figures speak, Anne says yes. 

They had said. 

“Hello, Anne. We’re the Jeon’s, may we come inside?”

And everyone knows, vampires never come in without an invite. 

[digitalworldbound]

The Chosen and their Holiday Traditions

Taichi - KFC Fried Chicken

Though his mother fancies herself a cook, the Yagami family has grown accustomed to take-out. Every Christmas Eve, the family huddles around a bucket of fried chicken, eating their fill while watching old Christmas movies on the television.

Yamato - Blasting Holiday Music

Despite his chilly exterior, Yamato adores Christmas music. As soon as the clock strikes midnight on Halloween, Mrs. Mariah Carrey is crooning through his earbuds non-stop. He was also the person to push Knife of Day into releasing their first (and last) Holiday Album.

Sora - Christmas Movie Marathon

With her father away on business and mother emotionally distant, the holiday season had always been a conflicting time for Sora. Though she isn't always the cheeriest, she basks in the rare moments when both parents are home and willing to watch a movie with her. She prepares hot chocolate and snacks for the three of them as they snuggle together on the couch.

Koushiro - Secret Santa

Gift-giving is Koushiro's least favorite love language. He often struggle with understanding of a consumerist holiday. Why should he bother with buying meaningless gifts when being friends is a treasure all on its own? Nevertheless, he enjoys the simplicity of being assigned a single person to gift to anonymously.

Mimi - Annual Christmas Parties

Her flare for the dramatic always shines brighter during the holiday season. The Chosen remain in a constant state of chaos, but Mimi loves to wrangle them all together to enjoy drinks and snacks while they exchange gifts and stories around the tree.

Jou - Matching Pajamas

Being the youngest of three, Jou hadn't had the chance for a truly "magical" Christmas. His brothers had already outgrown the festivities, and his parents were too busy or too tired to put on the Santa façade. They do, however, make the effort to all wear the same pajamas on Christmas Eve. While it may not be the most spectacular celebration, there's something magical in the way they all manage to not laugh at each other in their reindeer-onesies.

Takeru - Looking at Christmas Lights

Before the divorce, Takeru and Yamato would beg their parents to look at all of the lights on the boardwalk. Mittened hands clasped together, the brothers would admire the festive door fronts and snow flurries that danced in the chilly night air. They would stay out until the tips of their noses grew pink, Christmas lights dancing behind their closed eyelids.

Hikari - Decorating the Christmas Tree

For Hikari, the most family-oriented activity is decorating the Christmas tree. The Yagami's make it an event: driving to a tree farm to pick out the perfect one, carefully unpacking little handmade ornaments and decorations, and enjoying cups of eggnog as they admire their hard work. Every year, Taichi hoists Hikari by the waist so she can nestle the tree-topper amongst the branches. "Look,' he says, "It's an angle of light, just like you."

Daisuke - Opening a Gift on Christmas Eve

Daisuke has always been a fan of instant gratification. As a child, his curiosity would get the better of him. His parents would find him entangled in wrapping paper in the wee hours of Christmas morning, toys strewn around the room. To deter his antics, the family agreed to all open one gift the night before, just to give Daisuke a taste of what was to come.

Miyako - Reindeer Food

After having four children, it can be difficult to keep up with which child has what, and which child still believes. So, in an effort to not leave any of their babies out, the Inoue family makes reindeer food every Christmas Eve. Even though they are much too old, the siblings use expired oats from the iMart and leftover glitter from Chizuru's makeup pallets to make sure that Santa's reindeer will not miss their house!

Iori - Writing Letters to Santa

While his memories of his father are dim, Iori always makes the time to light the incense on his altar and draft a letter to "Santa". As he writes down his hopes and wishes, he tells his father stories of the adventures the year brought him. The letters are tucked beside the smiling face of his father, the word truly meant for only one person to read.

Ken - Baking Cookies for Santa

Ken's fondest memories of Osamu come from Christmastime. They would mix dough and chocolate chips, each doing their best to create the perfect cookie for Santa Claus. At night, with flour dusting their cheeks, they would lay awake, listening for the hooves of reindeer.

[sapphicsupremacist]

5 and 21 for the drag race asks please! <3

hey friend <3

5. favorite rusical?

Under the Big Top!!!!!!!! By a landslide!

21. any catchphrases from drag race that you really love or say a lot?

- "Riggamorris" "Girl who's morris?"

- Change your [something] Mimi, change it around

- When you feel your oats so hard, you forget that there are other oats there

- I love to walk

- probably a million other things but I can't think of them all :)

[t4tbruharvey]

not scrolling to read the post but i'm assuming i can send you top 5 anythings if not? fuck you i guess <3 um top 5 characters that are insane in a normal way normal in an insane way. top 5 tasty snacks. top 5 places to do a little dancey dance. top 5 classrooms in [redacted] give the numbers (.1 22). top 5 pairs of colour combinations. BOTTOM five baked oats recipes. top 5 names for a gluestick. top five AAAAAAAAAA

weow thanks mimi :') hashtag touched

characters that are insane in a normal way normal in an insane way:

tasm harry

the bat man 2022

gwen stacy <3

the frog from gnomeo and juliet

isaac

(conrad anning)

tasty snacks:

cut up carrots

normal sized pretzels

batman oreos

the gross peanut butter and flour thing i have sometimes <3

just like a billion apples and tangerines that you devour because you're really hungry

places to do a dancey dance:

the tube

any of the classrooms in [redacted]

club at bfi

[redacted] nearby field

owen's house or an art gallery. functionally similar.

classrooms:

22!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

there are no other good classrooms

27

baked oats:

fucking. tiramisu baked oats. what the hell u guys

ANYTHING with biscoff like guys just eat the biscuit

i can imagine that someone somewhere has made dark chocolate and pear baked oats which are probably bad because they're baked oats

like. creme brulee baked oats

white chocolate cheesecake baked oats THEYRE. OATS.

names for a gluestick:

martin

marvin

melvin

gary

sheila

aaaaaa:

me when my friend stabs me in the eye with scissors in front of our other friend

[cjadewyton]

So today Becky

-Attempted to sneak Mimi to school but Mimi decided to jump off her and roll around on the road instead (promptly was returned home because “I need to be able to trust you, Mimi! You can’t just do that! Stay home and think about what you just did….”)

-Handed out scented animal erasers to EVERYONE she saw

-Ate a bunch of pocket trail mix

-Locked herself in a school locker “just to see what it’s like” and then found a secret passageway. Livestreamed exploring it to her friends and refused to leave even though they kept saying she was gonna get hurt.

-Got kidnapped; after asking if she was gonna get murdered and being told no, she ended being okay with the kidnapping cos “its not the worst thing that’s happened to me these past few months :) how are you all doing today?” (The response was genuine confusion & concern like “….ooooh-kaaaaay then….”). She then critiqued the knots used to tie her up cos her ex was into [redacted] and basically said “It needs to be tighter! I can just slip my whole hand out super easily!”

-Went to a club with friends (she stayed sober cos not allowed to drink)

-When one friend got high, Becky fed her a bunch of trail mix and beef jerky. Friend then cut out the middle man and started just reaching into Becky’s jorts herself for the loose nuts and oats Becky has been keeping in there

-Then as they were leaving she saw her abusive ex get in a fight, have a drink poured on her, and then be broken up with. She attempted to approach but her own boyfriend was like “NOPE” and literally carried her out of the club

-She is soon to learn that a friend of a friend took a video of it and is posting it online, and she and her friends are visible in the crowd behind her ex

-She is now getting McDonalds