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#but sometimes I also just really need to tell myself to get the duck over it and get the duck on with it
michellemisfit · 1 year
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So I’ve had a pencil piece sketched out for May @shamelesscreatorsnetwork for… well, pretty much the entire month! And every time I decided to work on it I found 200 things that needed to be done first (clean my room, tidy my desk, organise my art materials, sharpen all my pencils, hoover, cook, do laundry…), and whenever I did actually sit down I would get all my pencils ready, all my reference pictures, the sketch… and then I’d look at it for a while, before putting it away again, promising that *tomorrow*. It’s late now, anyway. And the light is fading. And someone is going to interrupt me soon because it’s dinner time, so starting isn’t really worth it… but tomorrow! Tomorrow I will totally work on it.
So I built up this anxiety, over this drawing. The sketch is good! I really really like it. I think y’all will like it. …but what if I screw it up? And also, what do I even want to do with it? Like, full detail pencil? Coloured pencil? Cartoon-y felt tip pen? If I can’t decide then I’m definitely gonna screw it up, right? Right??
So that’s the anxiety spiral that’s been going on in my head over this drawing.
Today started off just like that. I had 3 hours before the next thing on my schedule. And I decided I was going to finally do it! And then I went and had breakfast, cause breakfast is important. And then I tidied away all my other art materials, because our holidays are over soon, and I need to start packing. And I put on laundry. And I folded some clothes.
And then I just refused to continue this… stupid game of chicken I was playing with myself. I took photographs of the sketch as it was, and if I’m gonna fuck it up, then so be it. I can just post the sketch. Or do something digital with it. Or, hell, I can redraw it from the sketch. I can do whatever, because anything is better than what my brain is currently doing to me.
So I put pencil to paper, and I started shading. And you know what? It’s going to be just fine…
Turns out I haven’t forgotten how to use a pencil.
And I want to beat myself up for it because ‘oh my god I could have been done with this weeks ago if I wasn’t being so bloody stupid about it’… but no. I refuse. Shit in my brain went weird. That’s true. And I did always know that I hadn’t actually over night lost the ability to draw. But that doesn’t make the anxiety I was having less real. And acknowledging that is important, because I’m not often good at being kind to myself. I’m trying. Just like with the drawing, it’s one step at a time, right?
I guess I just… wanted to share that.
~EDIT: It is done
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would you consider writing headcanons for percy and a mortal reader? like maybe someone he can’t help but fall for even though he’s afraid of putting them in danger given the differences in their worlds? i love your writing by the way!
⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x mortal! reader hcs
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content: percy jackson x mortal! reader hcs warning: language, mentions of death and blood and all that gross stuff author's note: i thought this one was gonna be a pain in my but to write but it was actually so cutesy???? also the last line is brutal i know but i couldn't help myself. so good, love love love. hope you guys like it too!!
you guys met in school, obvi
percy was struggling to read the board and you could tell, silently sliding your notes over to him and pretending not to, just to save him the embarrassment
"thank you for...ya know," percy muttered once the teacher turned her back.
"of course. my eyes bug out sometimes too. we gotta look out for each other," the girl mused back, a soft smile on her face as she playfully winked at him.
his stomach instantly became an olympic athlete, doing flips and twists like nobody’s business
he knew it wouldn't work out though
she was, probably, just another mortal and he wasn't willing to put her life in danger
even if she was super cute
and sweet
and caring
did i mention cute? okay, just checking.
but, he indulged a little bit, allowing side conversations during class and sharing of lunches
but no more, he promised himself
and then he kissed her
yeah, that promise didn't last long
it was fine and he lied...a lot.
"oh, cute necklace! is that from like a summer camp or something?"
"something like that, yeah."
"you've got so many scars, percy. you must be like super clumsy."
"sooooo clumsy. ha..."
"you mind if i borrow this pen real quick? i just need to-"
"NO NOT THAT PEN- sorry, sorry, here’s another one. that ones, er, special."
he didn't want to lie, really, but he also didn't want to hurt her.
to know is to put her in danger
and he couldn't have that
she’d met his mom, obviously she was the most important thing in his life
not just anybody meets mrs. sally jackson
and then, while riding the subway on the way to the aquarium for a date, it happened.
becuase of course it did.
percy was holding onto the pole, his free hand firmly resting on her waist and holding her close and away from the creeps of the new york undergrounds
"percy...why's that guy staring at you like that?" the girl whispered up to him.
percy's eyes instantly darting in the direction she nodded to, ready to scare off anyone who dared to look at his girlfriend in the wrong way
but then he faltered, his shoulder's sinking and his brain working double time to figure out how to get her out of here safety and deal with the monster.
"peresus jackson. i think this is your stop," the man hissed, standing up from his seat and shoving aside new yorkers as he approached.
percy pushed y/n behind him, taking a protective stand as he dug riptide out of his pocket
"nope. we're going all the way madison today. nice try," percy replied, uncapping riptide.
"percy?! is that a sword?" y/n asked in her panic, causing percy to turn to her with a furrowed brow.
"you can see this?" he holds riptide up for emphasis
"yes! obviously!"
"hold that thought," he said before swinging at the monster.
all the other new yorkers quickly scrambled to one side of the train, whipping their phones out and recording.
y/n slapped these phones down with a glare, shaking her head at them. 
she wasn’t entirely sure what was going on but she wasn’t just gonna let them record percy with a sword. That would surely land him in juvie.
percy, once done with the monster, quickly grabbed hold of y/n wrist and pulled her out of the subway just as the doors slammed shut behind them.
he dragged her with him, running all the way until he found a secluded ally to duck into, his eyes rapidly looking around for more danger.
"percy, what's going on?! where did you get a sword?! why do you even carry that on you and why did that man want to kill you and-"
"are you okay?" percy whispered through her worried rant and she stopped, nodding up at him.
"y-yeah, i'm okay. are you?"
"i've fought worse."
"percy...what do you mean? be honest with me...please," she all but begged and percy hung his head, hoping to avoid this moment for his whole life.
"it's gonna sound crazy."
"tell me anyway."
so he did.
he told her everything, correcting every lie he told her, every half-truth.
she listened, nodding along and asking the occasional question, but mainly listening
"so, yeah, that's everything."
"what i'm hearing is my boyfriend is a total badass."
"that's what you got out of that?!?! not the whole 'half-god' thing?!?!?"
"i kinda already figured that. i mean, look at you-"
"shut up."
a few weeks later, while they were hanging out in percy's room and sally was making cookies for them, is when the reality of it all hit y/n.
"percy?" she whispered, causing the boy to pull his eyes from the movie that was on and look down at her.
"yeah?"
"am i...am i gonna be in, like, danger? with you?"
"honestly? yes. every second you spend with me is probably another year you lose from your life."
there was pause, percy swallowing thickly before opening his mouth to give her permission to leave, he'd understand. hades, he'd do the same.
"okay," she replied with a shrug, cuddling closer.
"you sure?" he pushed, thought he really didn't want her to change her mind.
"thirty seconds spent with you is worth thirty years without you to me. easily."
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covetyou · 7 months
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the dark caress of someone else
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part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5
ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader x Tess Servopoulos rating: Explicit (18+ only!) chapter warnings: dub con, threesome (mff), oral (f and m receiving), bi reader, unprotected P in V, creampie, praise kink, spit kink, derogatory names (slut), drug reference, unspecified age gap, one singular queef (I'm not sorry), one face slap (with a dick)word count: 6.2k chapter summary: After a little white lie, you go to pick up your dads medication, only to be met by an angry Joel and a (not so) surprise visitor.
A/N: Thank you so much for all the love for this silly little series. I appreciate your amazing comments so much, and I don't quite know what to do with myself.
Piggy in the middle is fuckin difficult man. But I guess life imitates art and sometimes there do just be too many holes, hands and other body parts to keep track of. Also pls excuse me but I'm, like, really bi. And Anna Torv's Tess has my whole entire pussy heart.
this part is dedicated to 'The Sweaty Javi' and 'The Hillbilly Duck Hunter' (courtesy of the wonderful @morallyinept). thank you for your services. (pls drink responsibly)
also a shout out to slasher!joel's big ol' balls (spawned by @toxicanonymity) they've been on my mind literally all week and you would not believe the ball content I had to cut from this. only a smidgen of balls remain, but the balls are there in spirit. thanks for the ballspo bb.
follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work
song: someone new by Hozier dividers: @saradika
Your dad shook as he threw back his last pill, swallowing dry before chasing it down with a sip of water. He'd been making weak comments about needing to get more all week and you'd always stopped him. You didn't want him to go. You wanted to go.
You both knew that the pushback was all for show, but now a little white lie meant the show was over, for him at least.
"Joel doesn't want you coming to get your pills yourself anymore," you'd told him. It was a barefaced lie, but felt better than telling him the truth. How, exactly, do you tell your dad you're whoring yourself to his drug dealer?
You were fairly certain your dad knew what kind of man Joel Miller was. A Nice Man to some, maybe, but his reputation preceded him. He was known for helping out people when they got into tricky spots. Not all the time, of course, but when you had something he took a fancying to, he'd be more than willing to come to an agreement. Maybe your dad already knew what you were doing for him, for you. Maybe he noticed you had more ration cards these days, a spring in your step. You wondered if he cared, if he'd ever try to stop you.
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You make your way to the nicer part of the QZ again the next day. You have a free shift and, despite your dad's protests that you should go spend it with friends, you find yourself climbing chipped steps to an empty hallway once more.
You had left the last time with the slick of oil between your cheeks, down your legs, between your thighs. It had taken days to wash off completely. You didn't mind one bit - whenever you moved the slick of it reminding you of him buried in you to the hilt, fucking you half to death in a way you'd never imagined. Embarrassment, shame, you shouldn't like this, melding together and melting away as he pummelled into you from behind. You'd practically rubbed yourself raw thinking about it, but it was never quite enough.
Uncontrollable excitement thrums through you as you approach his door. And, well, you should have known.
Each time you turn up to Joel Miller's door thinking you know what to expect, and each time you're wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. It seems this time is no different.
You hear it before you even get to the door. Raised voices - a man shouting, a girl crying. You hear muffled snippets of the argument - "fuckin' daddy" here, "you're an asshole" there. You don't want to leave, but the sound of it makes you nervous. The unexpected usually hit when you were already trapped inside Joel's apartment, not when you were waiting in the corridor for the door to open.
You decide to turn and leave, you can come back later or another day, your dad can wait. You can wait. But then the door is opening and a topless brunette is rushing out into the hallway, nearly knocking into you in the process. Tears are streaming down her face as she shoves her arms into her t-shirt, hurrying away muttering "asshole" under her breath.
You watch as she leaves, turning your head back to the open door only when you see movement out the corner of your eye.
You'd never seen him like this. White fury burned behind his eyes as he came to slam the door in the girl's wake. He sees you and halts, fingers gripping the wood so tight you think it might splinter.
"Where's your daddy," he snarls at you.
"At home, in bed. He needs-"
"I know what he fuckin' needs. Get in."
He stalks away from the door, leaving it wide open for you to enter. You follow him in. You'd been trapped in here with him before, but it never felt like this. The fear you had before was because of the unknown, the new - he was a strange man in a strange place. Now he was a man you somewhat knew and trusted, yet in this moment you feared him. You were suddenly keenly aware that he could hurt you, really actually hurt you, if he wanted to.
A cupboard door clanks shut, making you jump, then his imposing figure is stomping back over to you. Grabbing your hand, he wretches it open, pushes a pill packet into your palm, and closes it into a fist around the plastic.
"You can see yourself out," he growls before walking away from you, leaving you standing there, confused.
You frown as you look between the pills he'd just given you and him. "But -"
"But fuckin' what," he yells, turning on you. "I gave you what you want, now go."
You're a fucking idiot, poking the already angry bear, but you step forward anyway. "That's not what I want."
He scoffs at you, hands on hips, shaking his head in disbelief. You felt small just because of the size of him usually, but now he was making you feel small in other ways.
"Use me."
"Use you? You want me to use you?"
You shrug your shoulders. "That's what this is, right? You give me what I want, and I give you what you want." He'd said it himself last time, and now here you were using his own words against him.
"And you think using you is what I want?"
You look him straight in the eye, balls bigger than the universe and say, "Yes."
Angry feet drag him to you, toes stopping barely an inch away from your own. He stares down at you, challenging you to look away, but you crane your neck and keep your eyes locked with his.
When he brings one massive hand gently to your neck, holding your gaze, you try not to flinch. Joel notices, fiery gaze briefly softening, he doesn't want you to be scared of him, and allows the cradle of his hand to push against your throat. You feel your pulse thunder beneath his palm just before the pressure releases.
"You got one last hole I ain't tried yet," he murmurs, dragging the rough pad of his thumb up your jaw and across the swell of your bottom lip. You fight not to kiss it, to take it into your mouth and show him how useful you can be.
The hand drags down your body, fingertips pulling at the neckline of your shirt, before he reaches its hem. You think he's going to put a hand up it, feel your bare skin underneath. Instead he bunches the fabric taught against your chest in one fist, yanking you even closer to him, his fist keeping you from falling flush against his torso.
"Take this off," his breath whispers across your face.
Grip loosening on your shirt, you try not to stumble back as you pull your shirt over your head, cheeks heating when you briefly get it caught on your chin. You weren't wearing a bra today, but if he notices he doesn't react.
Fingers tug at your belt loops. "And these."
You unbutton your pants, pulling them down your legs and off your body, taking your shoes with them. You try not to think about if the other girl was this dressed when Joel decided to kick her out.
Joel kicks your clothes away from you, you watch them skid across the floor, pill packet clattering along with them, before turning back, the fire in his eyes back and all softness forgotten.
"On your fuckin' knees."
You thud to your knees and look up at him. He takes a step back, as if he suddenly doesn't trust himself to be close to you. The thought of him actually hurting you crosses your mind again - you wonder if that'd turn you on the same as the other things he does, the things he does to hurt but make you feel good too. Maybe it would. Maybe if he really wanted to you'd let him.
His eyes rake down your body, taking in your bare tits, nipples hardened under the chill of the room, down the swell of your stomach, across the meat of your thighs and to the dampness forming on the front of your panties.
"Want me to use you, huh?" he says, nostrils flaring as his hands flex beside him.
Your eyes flick to his crotch. You'd only been this close to him in your fantasies, but you find you're salivating just as much as you do in your dreams, aching to run your hands across him and really, finally, feel him.
As if reading your mind, his hand caresses across the front of his pants. Where there had been nothing but the soft shape of him before was a growing tent as he hardened before you. "You want this?"
You nod.
He threads a hand through your hair, scratching at your scalp and cradling your head in his palm. He forces your head back further, until you're looking directly up at him.
"You're gonna have to ask nicely for it, sweetheart."
"Please can I have it," you beg, sounding as needy as you feel. You've never needed anything more than you need this. You know he can see it in your face, in the way you lick your lips as you take him in.
He yanks his pants down in an instant, cock bouncing from their confines. He grabs it in his fist, large hand stroking gently up his length to tug at his tip as he grows. It looks huge in his hand, but you know it'd look so much bigger in yours.
You look up at him wide eyed as you watch him stroke himself. A few strokes and he's solid already. For all you've done with him, for how you've had him inside you, you've never seen it this close. Never seen how veins ripple under skin, foreskin moves back with the movement of his hand to reveal his flushed tip, slit beckoning you to taste.
"Please can I have your co- "
The hard length of him collides harshly with the side of your face. Your lips part in a gasp. You stop yourself from chasing it and engulfing it with your mouth. He hasn't said you could, and you're not stepping a toe out of line. He needs you to be good.
"You really want it?" he teases.
You nod frantically. You must look dumb, like one of those nodding dog ornaments from years ago - glassy eyed and head bobbing at just about anything.
"Kiss it." You do, hesitantly placing a gentle kiss to one side of his tip, then the other, before placing an even softer kiss to his slit. There's a thrill knowing you'd never kissed any part of him before, knowing that the first time you'd pressed your lips to him it was to his cock. If anyone ever found out maybe you'd be embarrassed, but here, in this room, all you wanted was more.
Swallowing heavily and lifting his shaft, he pulls your head closer to him. "Kiss 'em. They wanna feel good too, sweetheart."
You place more soft kisses across the delicate skin of his balls, pushing down the temptation to taste him. Your eyes never leave his face, and his never leave yours. He looks so horny he could smash you through a fucking wall, and you don't think you'd mind if he did.
You keep kissing until he pulls your head back. He's started gently stroking himself again, getting himself off as he watched you worship his balls.
"You wanna taste?"
"I wanna taste," you swallow, sinking down as you spread your knees wide to stop the temptation of rubbing your thighs together, desperate for relief he hasn't said you can have.
"Show me how much you want it."
You snap your jaw open for him, eager to taste more than the swipe of cum he'd spread over your lips weeks ago, as he fists his cock gently over your face. He's teasing you with it still when a whine catches in your throat.
Another tug to your hair tilts your head back, but your eyes strain down to look at the bead of cum that's about to drip from the tip of him. He leans over you, cock in hand and your head held in the other. You watch as he spits down into your mouth, saliva cooling as it falls from his mouth to yours, landing cold on your waiting tongue.
"Good girl. So desperate for it. Keep it open." He moves his dripping tip to your mouth before you can react, swiping it across your tongue, mixing his precum with your, and his, saliva.
You hear it before he does - the sound of a key jingling and a lock turning. It startles you, fright springing across your face as he frowns down at you. You keep your mouth open as the door swings open behind you, exposing your naked body to the hallway and whoever has just entered.
"You home, old man?" a familiar voice you can't place calls out, before the very same voice lets out a low whistle when it catches sight of you.
The door is kicked shut, and there's a thud on the table. Joel is still brandishing his cock as he stares daggers over your head at the intruder. Your fucking mouth is open.
"You mind? I'm busy," he says, wiping the tip of his cock over your tongue again. You salivate at the salty taste of him and try to swallow.
Light footsteps head toward where you kneel on the floor before Joel, knees spread, head up, eyes darting between his face and his grip on his cock.
"Well then, hello there pretty girl." You remember that voice.
Finally letting your eyes flick to the side, you see her. Tess. She seems to recognize you at the same time as you do, a smile pulling across her face as your mouth falls slack in shock.
She'd been your fathers dealer before you were handed off one day to a new one. Your dad hadn't given details on why, but you had a feeling you knew. She'd helped you once too, when a few too many sick days had meant too few cards to get by. That had been your first time on your knees for someone at the promise of pills, and at the time you thought it would be your last.
Joel watches as she approaches and looks down at you on your knees. His hand hasn't left his cock, and he's tugging on himself as he watches, another bead of precum you desperately want to lick collecting at his head. He moves his hand from its place in your hair and starts stroking his heavy balls with it as he watches you.
"How's your daddy?" she pouts in mock empathy before addressing Joel, laughing.
"Gotta say, didn't expect this when I handed 'em off to you. Told you the daughter's mouth was good, didn't I?"
"I wouldn't know, I was only just about to find out," he grits out. His hands are still slowly working over himself as he talks to her. You watch as his eyes roam up and down her body, then flick to you down at his feet. Your body heats as you watch him ogle her - you think it may be jealousy until your own eyes trail the same path down her body before resting back on Joel. What difference is there between jealousy and desire, really.
"The first time you get to mess with one, and I get to witness it? Lucky me," she grins as she watches Joel thread a hand back through your hair, drawing your attention back to him completely.
"S'not the first time," he whispers as he pulls you forward, nodding at you to open your mouth once more.
"Then what the fuck have you been doing with her?"
Joel rolls his eyes at her, instead opting to feed the head of his cock into your mouth.
Your mouth engulfs his tip, warm and wet, he sucks in a breath closing his eyes, grip tightening in your hair. You let your tongue swirl around him, feeling the ridge of his head and tasting the bitter sweet salt of his cum on his skin. Your fingers curl into the rough fabric of his pants, anchoring you to him as you bob your head over his tip, circling your tongue over every inch of it.
"Oh fuck, that's right," he moans. "That taste good?"
He looks down as you nod, your moan of confirmation around his cock pulling another groan from his chest as his eyes fall closed again.
"Fuck yeah, it does."
Tess had all but gone from your mind until you hear the tap of shoes on the floor, and feel as she crouches beside you. A soft hand comes to your face, stroking the hollow of your cheek as you suck more of Joel's cock into your mouth.
You feel soft lips press a kiss to that very same hollow, the feeling of being kissed making you sigh. His eyes snap open, he'd been so lost in the feeling of your mouth on him that he hadn't noticed Tess's approach either. Now he was looking down at two women at his feet, eyes burning holes into yours where they fluttered in your head.
She begins nuzzling your hair, your neck, placing soft kisses across your bare skin. You keep your focus on Joel, staring at him with the same intensity he stares at you. Soft hands start to roam up and down your body, squeezing your chest, pinching your nipples, dragging short nails across your stomach, her every move making you shudder.
"Can't say I ever imagined a sweet little thing like you doing this," she whispers into your ear. You can hear the sickly sweet smile in her voice.
You moan into Joel's cock as she touches you, taking yet more of him into your mouth. You want to touch it, hold the heft of it in your hand, but you never have before. You don't know if you're allowed. You inch your hand up his pants to his crotch, stroking the exposed skin at the base of him with your fingertips. The hand in your hair twitches, and you hear a strangled moan from above you.
"Fuuck."
Another shift of your hand and your hand wraps around his thick base, fingertips unable to meet even if you squeezed. Holding him steady, you can finally angle him down so you can draw more of his cock into your mouth. You flick your tongue along his tip again as you swallow around him with a moan.
"That's it. Show me how much you can take."
At the instruction, Tess knocks his hand away from your hair, bringing both of her own to hold either side of your head. She fucks your mouth up and down his length, Joel moaning deep as his hand finds yours on his pants and grips your fingers tightly.
You'd been longing to feel his lips on yours so much that you'd never considered what his hand might feel like on yours. It's the opposite of electric - the heavy heat of his rough hand grounding you, finally, as you take him in in full clarity.
"Shit that's good," he sighs as you're dragged along him by Tess's hands.
"You hear that? He thinks you're doing a good job," Tess says from beside you, pushing your head down to take more of him with a kiss to your cheek.
You start to gag as she pushes you down - it had been so long since you'd done this, and Joel's size wasn't exactly forgiving to the less experienced - but you carry on, moaning again when the welcome distraction of Tess's body pushes against yours.
"Nothin' but a cocksucking slut, huh?" Joel murmurs down to you almost affectionately, moving a stray hair from across your face. Yes you want to say, but it comes out a garbled mess as Tess laughs at you once again.
With another firm push of your head, your mouth slips down and takes Joel even further to the back of your throat. You cough and splutter, trying to push yourself back using your hand against Joel's thick thighs, but Tess holds you down with his cock buried in your throat. Joel's hand grips yours tighter still.
"Don't," he snarls. "If I wanted her chokin' on it I'd fuck her face."
"Maybe I want her to choke on it," Tess counters from beside you with another laugh, but she relents anyway.
You pull back with a gasp and take a gulp of air before kissing the tip of his cock. You don't want to let go of it for a minute. You lick long stripes up his length, collecting the strings of saliva you'd left behind, before encasing him in your mouth once more. If you were anywhere else you'd maybe feel shame at your need for him, and your need to please him, but the heat of their eyes burning into you does nothing but light a fire between your legs.
Tess sees it, moving a hand down from bobbing your head on Joel's cock, down your bare torso and cupping your clothed pussy. Her slender fingers feel so much more delicate compared to Joel's thick calloused ones as they rub over you, your moans muffled by the fullness of the cock in your mouth.
"She's so wet, Joel," you hear her say through Joel's groan and the blood rushing in your ears.
Your hips start to rock into Tess's hand of their own accord, aching to find more friction and finally get some relief. She yanks your panties to the side, using one of her fingers to trace the seam of you before gently tickling your clit. If she could only feel how damp you were before, she could definitely feel the drip of slick from your cunt now.
Slender fingers plunge into you, fucking your desperate hole with force as you work your mouth over Joel's cock. You're left empty for half a second before her fingers are back in you, more this time, stretching you further so suddenly that your legs widen to accommodate the pull of fingers inside you.
"All four fingers, good girl," Tess coos.
"Four?" grunts Joel. Tess nods, laughing, and Joel throws his head back with a groan.
"I bet we could fit a whole hand up here," she says with another kiss to your cheek.
You were naive before to think she wouldn't, couldn't, hurt you the way you thought Joel could. You were wrong, you realized now, as her fingers plunged into you, stretching wide, words taunting in your ear as she forced your head back and forth over Joel's cock.
Her fingers leave your cunt entirely, leaving you empty and gaping. She pulls you off of Joel, replacing his cock in your mouth with her glistening fingers. You clean your own slick from them, moaning at the tang of your own pussy mixing with the flavor of Joel still on your tongue. His eyes never leave you and his hand never gives up its grip on yours.
"You like the taste of pussy, don't you?" Tess whispers in your ear, pushing you back onto Joel.
"Mhm."
"I think we can do something about that," she murmurs. "Can't we Joel." You both look up at him from your knees. He growls, nodding stiffly.
You're being hauled to your feet and pushed to the couch before you know what's going on. The blood rushes to your head and the room spins when you're pushed roughly over the arm, watching as Tess unbuttons her pants and pulls them down her legs.
She lounges back on the other arm of the sofa, spreading her legs and beckoning you to come between them. You ignore the ache in your knees from the hard wood of the floorboards as you crawl over, settling between her soft thighs and looking up at her with parted mouth. You would do anything right now, desperate for any relief from anyone.
Joel has followed behind, watching your ass sway as you crawled to her. Your panties are still skewed to the side, and you know he's looking at the mess of arousal between your legs. Tess may have been the one with her fingers buried in you, but you hope he knows he's just as responsible for your glistening cunt.
"C'mon," he growls, landing a swat to your ass. "Lemme see you eat that pussy."
You stare at Tess's bare cunt, feeling needy in ways you can't even explain, and move to lower your head, eager to taste her again.
She grabs you by the hair before your mouth can touch her.
"No teasing now. You remember what I told you?" You nod. You remembered every fucking part - exactly how she liked to come undone. Sometimes you imagined her doing the same to you.
She pulls your face down toward her cunt, and you stick out your tongue, hungry to taste her. You lick her gently at first, small licks across the swelling of her clit and her flushed lips. You lick further down, parting her folds to taste at her entrance - for all her laughing and teasing, her pussy was as much of a traitor as yours when exposed like this. She was dripping.
Joel's rough hands pull your ass toward him, dragging your panties down to your knees, hobbling you. The couch dips and creaks behind you as he brings a foot up to better line up with your hole. The wetness of his cock slides through your slick folds once, twice, then notches the tip at your entrance before he pushes in in one, sheathing himself completely in the heat of your body. You moan and gasp around Tess's clit, never stopping the movement of your tongue.
"Not sure she can handle it," she half chuckles, half moans.
"She can," grits out Joel. "S'taken worse." He slides out and punches all the way back in again, the feeling of his hips snapping against your ass so much less overwhelming when his cock was in your pussy and not your ass. You try desperately to keep up the movements of your mouth, wanting to feel Tess come undone at your hands, but blocking out Joel entirely is impossible with the distracting pound of his cock into you.
Tess grabs more of your hair, pulling it away from your neck and giving him a better view of you and her cunt.
"Fuck yeah, sweetheart," he groans now that he can see more clearly. "Lick that pussy."
"Been a while since you had multiple girls over, huh?" Tess taunts, throwing her head back before Joel can reply.
He nods, pulling your hips back into his as he thrusts forward. "Too fuckin' long." He groans again, meaty hands gripping your ass cheeks hard and pulling you apart at the seams as he pounds into you.
You slip a finger into her wet heat, curling it upwards as you feel inside of her. She's as slick as you, and you wonder if she's ever taken Joel as you have. The thought makes you moan again, just as Joel picks up the pace of his thrusts, slamming into you so hard your mouth jerks over Tess's cunt.
You try to steady yourself, fluttering your tongue flutters over Tess's clit, circling and suckling it into your mouth. You ignore the sensation building inside you as Joel's balls smack against your neglected clit each time he buries himself in you. It's too many feelings, too many sensations all at once.
Joel's hips stutter as he slams his cock into you, chasing his own release, already so close after you'd had him in your mouth for so long. Even closer from watching Tess tease you with her fingers buried in your needy cunt, watching your tongue lathe over hers.
You hear a strangled "Fuck" before he slams his hips forward again, slick cock slipping deep inside you as he floods your pussy with warm, wet cum. You moan into Tess's clit as you feel yourself heat from the inside out.
"Shit. Shit," he sighs from behind you. You want to turn to look at the fucked out look on his face. You nearly do.
"Don't stop, almost there," pants Tess, almost begging you with your face still buried in her wet heat, lapping at her clit with a finger curled inside her. "Pretty girl, almost there," she croons, stroking your hair and rocking into your face.
Gentle circles on her clit turn firmer, more rapid, and the hand in your hair grips you tighter as you pull her release from her. She grinds against your face, pussy throbbing as you lick her pulsing clit through her orgasm.
That same hand yanks you back a moment later, too sensitive to continue, before she relaxes back into the couch with a sigh.
"She's good, Joel," she breathes, a hand idly stroking your hair. You hear Joel grunt in agreement from behind you, his hands still holding onto your ass, and your cheeks heat with the praise.
He moves away, pulling his cock from where it had softened inside you, watching as a small trickle of cum escapes to drip down to your neglected clit.
"Looks like you earned your meds today," Tess laughs, patting your cheek, before standing to pull her pants back on without another word to you.
Still on your hands and knees on the couch, you watch her approach Joel, kissing him on the side of the mouth as he stares, breathing deeply, at your ass. His cum is still dribbling out of you. You flip to sit back on your ass, trying to stop its escape making too much of a mess on his furniture.
She whispers something into his ear, moves to the door, looks at you with a smirk one last time before opening it and leaving.
The door snaps shut, and she's gone.
As soon as the door closes he's on you again, pushing you back down into the couch with a growl. The air is knocked out of you as your back thuds down and he hoists your legs back, folding you in two.
Holding you down and open, the wetness of his mouth engulfs your pussy, slurping your clit into his mouth.
He's devouring you, eagerly eating all of his cum out your hole and cleaning you of his creamy spend.
You moan and twitch beneath him, having spent the last fuck knows how long with your mouth full but the desperate need in your pussy neglected. You'd hoped he could fuck an orgasm out of you, but as soon as the pressure of his cock in you had gotten good, the slap of his balls against your clit hard enough to send a thrill through you, he'd stuttered to a stop, leaving you with an aching pussy and nothing to show for it.
A strong arm pins you down, keeping your legs back, feet in the air. Two of his thick fingers thrust into you, before he pulls them out, licking them clean, then he plunges three straight back in, stretching you more than Tess's four ever had and making you whine, high pitched and needy, for more.
You're so close, so near to falling over the edge, but his desperate licks are too desperate, not focussed enough on your oversensitive pussy, too frantic. You feel like you've been edged for hours, but your clit has barely been touched until now. It's been left starving, aching for attention.
"Joel!" you ground out desperately, looking between your thrown back legs where he feasts on you. His eyes catch you, catch the desperation, the need, and he slows down, honing in on your clit, lapping in steady circles, fingers pumping deeply.
Your toes curl, tears come to your eyes and your bottom lip quivers. You nod at him. He's found it. Exactly what you need, the exact spot. He's relentless now, his tongue moving over, and over, and over as his eyes lock with yours.
"Ohhhnnnnng."
"That's it," you feel him mumble into your clit. "Good girl."
And you're cascading over the edge, into a pit of white heat, different but similar to the one in his eyes when you first saw him today. You shudder and jerk, his tongue flicking over your sensitive bud drawing wave after wave out of you as your pussy spasms around his fingers, gripping them tight and tethering you down as you writhe.
You twitch with oversensitivity and Joel finally stops, tongue leaving your clit, lips pressing firmly to your mound instead as he breathes you in. Your body heaves and you sink further into the couch, stomach muscles finally letting you unfurl from where you'd chased your orgasm so desperately.
"Fuck," he groans so close you can feel his lips move on your skin. All you can do is nod weakly in response. "You okay?" You nod again, not trusting your voice and still not entirely sure you're conscious.
His thick fingers pull from you, leaving you empty, and his hands gently guide your legs down to rest on the couch. Blood is still pounding through your ears, but you hear and feel it... the air that Joel's fingers had pumped into you chooses that moment to escape in one humiliating gust.
Your face drops with embarrassment, and you hear Joel laugh from between your legs.
"Sign of a job done good," he laughs, kissing down onto your pussy, tongue gently swiping along your sensitive clit again. You try to wiggle away, letting out another rumble, fucking fuck, and immediately still as Joel laughs more.
"You done?" he says into your cunt, spreading you slightly to look at your spent hole then to you. "I think she's good." He kisses your clit once more and sits back, stretching his back out on the sofa with his arms behind his head.
You both sit there in silence, recovering your breath and coming back down to earth. Your knees knock together as your legs relax. You close your eyes, breathing deeply, and let the chill of the room cool your sweaty body and the heat of embarrassment from your cheeks.
Much sooner than you'd like, you feel Joel start to move.
"I ain't mad at you, y'know," he says softly as he tucks his cock back into his pants. "Was never mad at you. Just mad."
You knew that already, but hearing him say it still made you feel better. It made you feel like you'd done the right thing, that you hadn't pulled him into something he didn't want. You were justified, you were right. He wanted, needed, to use you as much as you needed to be used.
"You should get goin'," he moves to stand as he speaks, walking away from the couch and from you.
"But -"
He shuts you up with a single look. You sit up wordlessly, casting your eyes down. He was right - what exactly would you even be staying for, really, other than because some part of you wanted to.
You dress in silence, panties still around your knees pulled up, clothes thrown on haphazardly, pills stuffed into an empty pocket. Joel doesn't watch this time, instead he rifles through the box left by Tess. You never see into it, but you watch his profile shift and change as he reacts to what she left for him.
You move closer to the table, making way to leave his apartment without another word, when he's closing the box and speaking.
"I've had a vasectomy," he says pointing to your now covered crotch. "So, y'know... should be fine."
"Oh." You hadn't even thought about it. You didn't even care. "You... you could've done that in my mouth too. I wouldn't have minded."
"Your mouth was occupied," he smirks with a shrug. "Besides, if I wanted to, I would've."
He gestures for you to leave, so you do, Joel following you to the door as you go. You open it yourself, just as Tess had, and walk out. You don't have time to finish saying thank you before the door is shut behind you, leaving you alone in the corridor yet again. You make your way home in silence.
You dream that night of soft lips on your cheek, softer hands roaming your body. The softness morphs and distorts, growing larger and more ragged. Rough hands drag along you, and the scruff of a beard scratches your face as a kiss too delicate to be real comes impossibly close to your mouth.
You wake in a sweat, heat pulsing through your veins and your cunt throbbing between your legs.
You'd come in your sleep to nothing but desperate thoughts of a kiss you'd never had.
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heartbreakgrill · 7 months
Text
happen: sleep token (vessel).
a/n: we pretend we don’t see my unfinished fics, okay? also we pretend we don’t see my spelling and grammar and plot mistakes in this, okay? okay. enjoy :)
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"your paint is smeared."
vessel looked up from his piano, first meeting my eyes, then following where my finger pointed to.
"shit," his accent stuck out like a sore thumb, elongating the i in the cuss word.
vessel wiped a finger across the paint in an attempt to blend it in. it didn't do much.
"i think you might be making it worse," i commented with a smug smile.
vessel met my sneering gaze. he was unphased by the sarcasm on my tongue. he reached a blackened hand forward as he tried to rip the clipboard from my hands. i ducked out of his reach. the piano blocked him from me, but his arms were long enough that he managed to swipe a hand across my stack of papers.
i scoffed, stepping back a few feet, examining the black paint overtop my paperwork. "vess!"
"y/n!" he mocked my tone. he rounded the piano, coming to look down at the paper in my hands. "your paint is smeared, lovey."
i looked at up with an annoyed stare, "fuck off."
vess patted my bare shoulder, sending electrically shocked goosebumps down my clammy skin. i shifted my arms, hoping he wouldn't notice how i shivered under his touch.
"i'll go get some more paint, kay?" i offered with a deep breath.
vessel settled in front of his piano again. he nodded, pressing a few keys, "there's a tube in my dressing room."
"be right back."
i turned on my heel and headed for the stairs. i passed ii, who patted my head, and iv, who made some chirp about me owing him a shot- which just wasn't true.
i reached the dressing room soon enough. i'd been in here- in the other ones- numerous times. we often all hung out as a group between shows, in here or out on the town with various disguises on the boys. i still didn’t know who the guys were outside of those masks and strange nicknames. sam did, of course, because he’d been teching for the boys for years now. plus, they all had a brotherly relationship. they trust him.
for some reason, going in here by myself felt provocative. i kept my vision tunnelled, just in case they left something important out. they were men, after all-messy, sometimes careless, forgetful.
outside clothes, hoodies and sweatpants i recognized, sat strewn across the chairs and couches. their personal cellphones were sat with their things, different from the work phones they had been assigned. i had their work numbers, for professional conversations, for getting bullied by ii and iv in the groupchat. vessel and i talked, sometimes, about new coffee shops in new towns we'd be stopping by, movies we'd need to go see when we had a day off.
personal phone numbers were for the trusted.
i b-lined for vessel's paint and brushes, on the counter beside his phone. as i did, my eyes glossed over a wallet. it wasn’t one that i recognized. but, i knew that it was vessel's. or, whoever he really was. my fingers itched with a curiosity that i could not feed. it was none of my business who they were. if they wanted me to know, they'd tell me. they'd unmask themselves when we're chilling out on the tour bus.
if vessel trusted me, if he felt our silly conversations held any depth like i thought they did, he'd tell me who he was.
no matter that i'd known him for six months and hehad yet to do so. no matter that i thought we might have reached that point. no matter that sometimes, when he looked at me, there was a longing sat right behind his eyes, a wanting that made me feel entrusted, that made me feel like he understood what was bleeding off my skin.
no matter.
i grabbed the paint and headed back for the stage. vessel was sitting on the side of it now, talking to ii about something or the other. i handed the paint off to him. i went to go backstage, heel prepared to turn, when he spoke, "thanks, lovey."
ii followed vessel's gaze up to me. i stood overtop of them. ii's eyes raked up my bare legs, over the little black dress i wore. he met my eyes and nodded. "hey, gorgeous."
ii always enjoyed flirting with me. playfully, of course. vessel rolled his eyes at the usual quip. "here we go..."
"i am going to do my job. see ya later!"
ii reached up and grabbed my hand before i could leave. i jerked back to my spot, brows raised. ii shook my arm around, "go on, darling, give us a strut."
"you're ridiculous," i ripped my hand from his, though i chuckled slightly.
"tell her, vess," ii nudged his bandmate's shoulder with his elbow, "tell her how beautiful she is. she just doesn't believe me!"
i met vessel's eyes. he never joined the boys in their teasing, never flirted like ii did. he was always genuine, kind. our conversations were always full of depth, too. in fact, he never showed much interest in me besides those longing, full glances that i took to heart, that i let create a delusional fantasy land in my head. everytime i thought he might be, when we'd have these great conversations, he'd pull back. like was afraid, or he didn't fully trust me.
so, i shuddered when vessel's eyes drug down my body, over my exposed chest, the barely visible tops of my boobs, the curve of my waist, hugged tight by the dress, and the skin of my thighs and calves, right to the tips of my platform boots.
it was then that i realized today was going to be a very different day.
"you look..." vessel rolled his eyes back up my body, to my own flustered gaze, "good."
i couldn't get away fast enough. i thanked them both, stuttering slightly, before turning on my heel and racing towards backstage. i bumped into iv's shoulder and muttered a half-hearted apology.
i knew that they all were staring at me, analyzing my girlish behavior. i knew they'd talk about it.
and that was embarrassing as fuck.
when the show ended, i was determined to not be anywhere near any of the boys. i escaped to the bus sam, myself, and the other techies slept on. i changed into comfortable clothing and lay in my bunk, willing the blush on my cheeks to finally leave me alone.
this wasn’t supposed to happen. did i long for him to say something like that? duh!
did i actually want it to happen? no, bitch.
because that changed everything for me.
i just needed to hide out here for the night, will my anxiety and the fawn look in my eyes away. tomorrow, i could shift everything back to how it was. tomorrow, he’d probably act the same- passive, uninterested.
even if there was any weight to that entire interaction, it’s not like anything could even happen between us.
management made the band swear off girls for risk of privacy and in order to focus on their work. besides, i worked for the band. i helped run every single show they did. they were my boss’.
and there was that whole issue of him not trusting me. because it was so obvious that he didn’t.
i was letting my brain run around too much.
what snapped me back to reality was the commotion of everyone returning to the bus, excited chatter from the other men on the crew filling the once silent vehicle. sam's voice got closer as he and another techie approached their bunks, across and above from my own. i figured they’d just be grabbing something before everyone headed out to the bar.
but, of course- that wasn’t my luck.
"yoohoo," sam knocked a fist on wall, near my head, "is there a y/n in here?"
i huffed, "what do you want?" i knew they were here to berate me to come out with them. but that would mean seeing the boys- having to confront the issue that was vessel.
"get up, grandma," sam teased me for being in bed so soon, "we're going to the bar."
"i'm tired," i replied, a slight groan in my voice. please just go away.
"that's a load of bull," sam scoffed, "you literally said this morning that you wanted to go out tonight."
i went to reply, but more voices filled the bus, all too familiar ones that made my chest tight.
"what's going on? is y/n okay?" that thick british accent burst through whatever i was gonna say next. iv.
then, another spoke- ii, i was pretty certain. "what? what's happening? aren't you coming out, y/n?”
i shoved my head into my pillow, wanting to scream. the only downside of tour was this obvious lack of privacy. i appreciated that my presence was always wanted by just about anyone i worked with. but, god, can’t a girl daydream and regret her actions in peace?
i pulled open the curtains sheltering my bed, just a fraction, not even trying to mask my annoyed expression. ii, iv, and sam were squatted just outside my bunk. sam wore a cheeky grin, but the others had their outside masks on. i could read their energy well, though.
"i'm fine, guys," i waved them all off, cuddled up under my blankets, "i just wanna chill tonight."
"no! you can't! please! you have to go out with us! you promised last time you would! plus you owe me a shot!" iv whined, head tilted to the left. he really needed to find a new gimmick.
i rolled my eyes, "you're a baby."
"wow, y/n," ii set a comforting hand on iv's shoulder, gasping at my insult, "that's harsh. here i thought we were friends."
sam laughed in response, "yeah, y/n. that was really mean. you hurt iv's feelings." he, also, touched iv’s arm.
i met iv's eyes with pursed lips. his eyes read no signs of offense. we were all always so mean to each other and i knew they’d call me out if i ever took it too far. no, this- this was them bullying me back. trying to get me to come out. they’d probably, eventually, get on me about my flustered escape from earlier. ii nudged iv, and he began to fake cry, head dropped down into his hands.
i rolled my eyes again with an exasperated huff, "oh, my god. here we go."
the bus door swung open, then shut again, as the rest of the band made their way in. i didn't notice, too caught up in the boys' theatrics to get nervous that vessel was in my vicinity. he stood just out of sight, watching all of us.
iv sobbed, shoulders rocking. "i can't believe you'd say that, y/n!"
"whatever. im not coming out, freaks,” i went to shut the curtain, but sam pushed it open all the way.
i dropped my head to my pillow in annoyance. ii spoke now, egging on the situation further. i grew nervous he’d bring up earlier, "there's just one thing you can do to make this up to him."
"let me guess, it tastes like vodka and rhymes with hot?" i murmured as i pressed a stressed hand over my eyes.
ii pried my hands from my head. “actually- tastes like hennessy and rhymes with get the fuck out of bed!" he, then, reached into my bunk and tickled my sides.
i laughed this ugly, wheezing laugh, squirming away from ii's reach. iv's showcase of crying twisted into him falling back onto his ass, laughing with his head thrown back. sam held onto the bunk as he joined. i then heard vessel and iii's laughs, echoing from a bit down the hall. i tried to snap myself out of the situation, insecure by vessel's presence. but, ii just wouldn't stop tickling me.
luckily, he did, leaving my face red, tears spilling out of my eyes, and a newfound energy to get up from my bunk. i didn’t forget that vessel was standing there, watching. and, i knew, i’d have to face the reality of my embarrassment eventually. but, the boys drunk were usually pretty sweet.
"alright," i huffed and shoved the covers off of my body, "let's go, you freaks."
"you'll come?" ii offered me his hand, helping me off of the floor.
"yeah, i'll come," i released his hand, steadied on my feet. i shoved his shoulder as i walked towards the closet at the end of the hall. i pushed past sam and iv to get there. as i searched through my bag, trying to find my dress from earlier, i felt eyes still on me. all the boys had begun moving from the bus, going outside to smoke and wait on me. but, vessel was still there. lingering.
he waved at me as i looked down the hall towards him. my face flushed again and i gave an awkward smile. god, i was not helping the situation. if anything, i was making it worse, making him uncomfortable, ruining everything. he’d never trust me now.
i put back on my little black dress, tights to bear the cold, platform boots. my makeup was still in tact, though i had to clean up a few smudges made by my sweat from the show. i finally met everyone outside the bus, drawing eyes to my body as i bounded down the steps.
"still looking sexy, darling," ii flirted, cheekily, taking my hand and forcing me to do a little spin in front of everyone.
as i faced back to everyone, i pulled my hand from his and shoved him away from me again. "creep- let's go. you owe me a shot."
"um, i think it's the other way around," ii scoffed.
i began walking from the group, towards the bar down the street. i tossed a confused look over my shoulder, "that never happened. you're crazy."
i left behind a trail of laughing men, a stunned ii. they teased me- but i did back just as much.
it was just a five minute walk, and i kept my pace ahead of everyone because i was cold and wanted to get there quicker. i knew someone was watching me- again. i knew the feel of that stare. i knew it was vesel. so, i tried to stay just far enough ahead that he couldn't catch up. i don’t think i could keep up any meaningful conversation when my heart was still beating this quickly.
alas, the over 6' man fell in stride beside me, easily, hands shoved in the pockets of an alpha wolf sweatshirt. he adjusted his sunglasses, inhaling a chilly breath before saying, “why’d you run off earlier? before the show? did i- say something wrong?”
"no reason," i snapped a too-quick response, arms crossed over my chest. my cheeks were reddening again.
he tsked his tongue, “good. shame, though, i didn't get to enjoy this dress for as long as i would have liked to.” i couldn’t see his eyes- but i knew they flicked down over my body. i straightened up under the gaze.
what game was he playing?
maybe he just wanted to hook up. i knew it wasn’t anything serious for him, because it couldn’t be.
i could imagine he and the boys were horny. all the time they’d spent declaring celibacy on this tour must be getting to them. so, i convinced myself that’s what this was. but, i of course didn’t want that.
so, i couldn’t help but feel let down that i had gotten my hopes up. i had thought that maybe, just maybe, he wanted me like i wanted him. that, again, maybe, he trusted me like i wanted him to. like i trusted him.
i looked up at him, head tilted back from his height. i tried to read the air between us, hoping something else was there. but i knew he wore a cheeky grin beneath his mask. i frowned, slightly, a desperate disappointment laying just behind my eyes. my head shook just slightly, "don't."
vessel's shoulders fell. he nodded, just once, before silencing himself.
we walked to the bar in drowning silence. i wanted to stop, to turn to him and ask him a million questions. why didn’t he trust me? why didn’t he want me? why couldn’t we try?
why couldn’t we have met in another lifetime, where he didn’t feel the need to hide behind a mask? where he didn’t have to put his life on the line just to reveal himself to me?
not that would fix anything if he didn’t feel what i felt.
i needed a drink.
when we got to the bar, we got swept up in the excitement from our group, separated from each other. i was grateful for the space. it allowed me to breathe, allowed me to start getting wasted.
ii and iv shoved drink after drink into my hands. we pounded shots off of the wooden counter of the bar. we paid far too much for the shitty jukebox in the corner to play our favorite songs. ii even eventually drug me out to the make-shift dance floor, holding my free hand in his, guiding my hips with his other palm.
i clutched onto my vodka cran, following the rhythm ii was swinging in his hips. we danced to some usher song, sultry and silly. normally, i’d shove him away and cuss him out, make fun of him. but, the alcohol was starting to burn my throat, sending a soothingly loose feeling through my blood. i was relaxed.
the song slowed and we did with it. i rested my heavy body against his, chin on his shoulder. we danced in a circle. i could see vessel, sitting at the bar, burning a hole through ii's head with his eyes. he saw me looking at him and quickly looked away.
i just wanted to walk right up to him and kiss him, mask or no mask. i just wanted him. i didn’t care what he looked like. who he was. because i knew him- i knew him well. i knew when his favorite cat died, i knew that he dropped his sandwich in the first grade and cried on drive home. i knew he preferred tea over coffee, with two sugar cubes, and an exact glug of milk in it.
my mind was racing like crazy. i needed to ground myself or i’d do something i’d regret.
that’s when ii mumbled into my ear, “he wants you so badly.”
i jolted out of my own head space, pulling my chin back from ii’s shoulder to look up at him. “what?”
i was having trouble processing words.
“vess. he’s been pining after you for so long,” ii had a sense of urgency in his eyes. "and he think he's trying to see if he can shoot my head off with his eyes right now."
i peered over his shoulder. vessel was watching us again. he didn’t look away, though i knew he could see.
“fat chance,” i blurted out. “he keeps pushing me away…pining my ass. everytime we have, like, a really good conversations about, like, the stars or some shit, the next day he acts like he barely knows my name.”
ii was patient, just listening as i rambled, surely drunk now. i continued on, “i don’t know, dude. like, if he wanted me he would do something about it, yeah? he’d show me. he’d say something. he’d- he’d just do something. instead he just makes me feel crazy.”
i finished myself off with huff. i downed the rest of my drink and set it on a table close to us. both my fists leaned against ii’s shoulders. i was getting dizzy.
ii squeezed my hip in comfort. he waited a moment, for me to catch my breath, to respond. "it's difficult. being in our position. it's hard to tell who's getting close just to catch a peak. forcing everyone we care about to sign mountains of paperwork just to really know us. to trust that we can stay hidden, though the entire world is just itching to unmask us. i know you know that. i know you understand it. that’s part of the reason why we all get along with you so well. the pressures gone. we can be ourselves- no matter what our names are, what we look like. cause you just don’t care.
“i don’t!” i agreed, punching my fist lazily against ii’s shoulder. “i don’t care who you guys are! because you’re still the same to me. and i trust you. and i love you guys. and i just- but just, why can’t he want me?”
he chuckled, “oh, darling. he does. you know he does. and you know the risk, you know the worry. you push it away because it’s not going to be easy. put your pretty little head to rest. just…let it happen as it happens.”
“i think i’m too drunk to really understand this right now, babe,” i droned on, eyes squinted as if i could understand him better with a blurred gaze.
ii tapped my nose sweetly. he stepped back, glancing over to vessel. “just let it.”
i met vessel’s gaze- invisible to me, but so obvious from the burn on my skin. he stood from his seat, hesitant, yet somehow determined.
i felt my body pulled towards him. we met in the middle. some stupid country song was playing. the bad was emptying. our friends were loud. my breath smelled of alcohol. vessel seemed exhausted.
but, for some reason, this was the night that it would happen.
vessel held out a hand, skin pale yet still stained from the paint. i took it. he waited a moment, as if awaiting my consent. then he guided us to the backdoor of the bar. we were out in an alley, alone.
“i’m sorry, lovey,” he said, once he was settled on his heels in front of me.
i clutched his hand like an anchor. “for what?” my brows furrowed.
he brushed a thumb across my knuckles, “that it’s like this. i…i wish i could love you under different circumstances.”
the word passed by without a second thought, so easily spoken from his lips. i barely noticed it. “it’s okay…it’s-its not your fault, vess.”
“no, it’s just,” he ran his other hand overtop his hat, covering his hair just perfectly. “it’s just that i need you to know that. how i feel about you..” now he danced around the word, “because i need you to know that…but…i can’t go forward with any of it. i can’t follow through with it. and i’m so sorry. i just…can’t.”
i slid my hand up to his cheek. he nearly crumbled under my touch. my fingers touched the edge of his sunglasses. he didn’t move. he didn’t try to stop me as i slid the glasses off his nose. i knew those eyes well- i was grateful to see them, even in this dark lighting. i could read him better, i could see his soul.
“i’ll sign whatever you want me to sign.”
the words lingered between us as he processed them. then, he denied them, “lovey…i-“
“i’ll sign a million nda’s. i’ll sign away my life. i’ll- i’ll delete all of my social media. and i’ll wear a mask, too. i’ll step into the darkness with you, vess. i’d do it. i want to do it.”
“lovey, please, i can’t-“
“i can. if you can’t, i can. i can for the both of us.”
vessel dropped his chin, looking away from me. “i can’t ask you to do that for me. beside, you- you don’t even know what i look like. i’m- i’m probably not what you’d want. you can’t love someone you think is ugly. i don’t know, lovey.”
“i do know, vess,” i quickly replied. “i know. i know you. i know your soul. it doesn’t matter to me what you look like, or who you are. cause i know your heart. and that’s all that matters to me. besides, i can’t go on hiding- knowing that we love each other. i just can’t. i won’t allow it.”
vessel met my eyes again. he removed his hand from my own. his hand hung by his thigh, clenching into a fist. it shook. i was worried he’d walk away.
but, after his hesitation softened, he reached his hands up to his face. he tugged the medical mask off of his ears, revealing his familiar lips and smile to me. his nose was new, a feature i’d never seen. but, it was just a nose.
he took off his hat, too, revealing his entire complexion to me. i grinned in response, barely even getting a good luck at him because i really didn’t care.
“that changed nothing for me,” i grasped at his hands. “i feel the same. i feel- the same. maybe better, knowing that you trust me. but- the same. i still want you- i need you, vess…please. i know you need me, too. i’ve always seen it in your eyes. just…take a chance. come out of the darkness…for me. please.”
vessel slid his hands up my arms, slowly, brushing my hair over my shoulders as he passed. his fingertips tickled my neck, the lobes of my ears, until he cupped my cheeks. i leaned into his touch, eyes alight with abounding adoration. he tilted his head down, brilliantly colored eyes boring into my own.
and then he kissed me.
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enha-hype · 7 months
Text
maeumi & me - ch 26 : misunderstood
a/n : written part comes first. ignore timestamps in pictures as usual but not for the written part!
w.c. : around 2k oops
9:30 am.
You're in the midst of stealing another sneaky glance at Jungwon as he works when Heeseung arrives. He walks over to your table and flops down opposite to you, his annoyance evident in his sarcastic smile. You roll your eyes.
“Okay fineee, I lied about where I was. But I am doing my homework here as you can see!” You wave your worksheets at him. “It's just that Won has been bugging me to try the café's new Dalgona coffee and I was like, what’s so great about Dalgona right, I mean I can make it myself at home and he was like, no we add this special ingredient that makes it absolutely delightful and I was like.…” you trail off, realising you’re rambling and not really helping your case, judging by the look on your friend's face. You clear your throat. “Anyway, I had some time left since my first hour today was cancelled and I thought I might as well come here and get some coffee and finish my homework and I didn't tell you because I mean, you've already been bugging me non-stop since last night,”
“Well of course I have!You two almost kissed!!” he shrieks, drawing the attention of a table of friends nearby.
“Shhh, quiet down he's literally a few feet away! Also wait, you saw that?”
“Yuh huh! Why else do you think I've been losing my–”
“So you interrupted us on purpose?” Shit. Did you actually ask that out loud? You hadn’t meant to. “Actually no forget I said that–”
Heeseung’s eyebrows shoot up, an amused smile replacing his scowl. “Well, I–”
“Nuh uh I don't wanna hear it la la la la la la,” you plug your ears with your hands.
He shakes his head. “Y/n, come on. What are you doing? It's so obvious that you like Jungwon–”
“I don't like him! It's just that he's so nice to Maeumi and so sweet to me and– Ugh, hold on I'm getting a call. Hello?”
It's your classmate calling you up to remind you about the meeting for a group assignment. You promise her you’ll be there on time and hang up. You turn your focus back to Heeseung, who is leaning forward with his hands crossed on the table, looking at you with patient scepticism. You sigh - he’s right. What are you doing? Why are you trying to dismiss these feelings that are as clear as day? “I know that look.”
“What look?”
“The look that says you don't believe my bullshit.”
“Well you got something right at least.”
You put your head into your hands. “Fine. I like him, okay? Maybe a little too much. And yes I came here so I could see him again even though it’s barely been two hours since I saw him back at Jake’s place. And it's just. Ahhhh. I don't know, I've never liked anyone this way before and it feels so nice but also weird because it’s new and a little overwhelming sometimes and I just maybe need some time to come to terms with it before you guys all start freaking out,”
He nods and leans back in his seat, satisfied. “Okay.”
You look up at him in disbelief. “‘Okay’?? That's it???”
He laughs. “What, did you expect me to demand to know everything right now? Come on Y/n, give me some credit. I’m not that bad of a friend.”
“Debatable,” you tease, ducking as he reaches to hit you playfully. “Well no it’s not that. I just, I don’t know, expected a bigger reaction I guess?”
“You know you guys have not really been discreet or anything right? It’s kind of been a little too obvious the past few days. But I will say that I wasn’t expecting you guys to go in for a kiss last night right when I happened to walk in. Which is why I may have, uh, panicked a little and ended up switching on the light,” he flashes you a sheepish smile.
You shake your head, feeling your cheeks get hot as you think back to the moment. God, so close. If only you hadn't been interrupted... “You lil shit,”
“Wha– you just said it yourself, it’s weird! I’ve never seen you do ‘romancey’ stuff and you've always been so blehh about dating and relationships and now suddenly you can’t stop gushing about this guy and I don't know, it's like seeing your sibling kiss. Gross,” he cringes and you slap his hand.
“Ow! Also, where is Jungwon?”
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9:06 am.
Jungwon has practically been vibrating all morning from the excitement of what happened last night. Well, of course nothing really happened, strictly speaking. Still, he was happy at the prospect of it. At the idea that he maybe has a chance with you after all. Like, he’s had a crush on you for so long, it seems unreal. He had almost fully accepted the fact that that was all it was ever going to be – a crush. And then things happened, and here he was. He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to keep himself from smiling. From the corner of his eye, he catches the weird looks his older co-barista, Taehyun, has been giving him.
The front door opens with a ding of the bell, indicating the arrival of another customer. Jungwon finishes serving the caffè mocha he was making just in time to greet the new one.
“Good morning, what–” he stops short when he looks up and sees that it’s you. He stutters and completely forgets what he meant to say and gives up halfway. From the way he’s grinning, even a passerby who chances to see him from the sidewalk outside could guess he’s head over heels. Taehyun recognises you immediately – he's only seen Jungwon behave like an idiot one other time, which was the first time you had come here a couple of weeks ago. Jungwon had immediately dropped everything he was doing and had all but run to you despite how busy the cafe had been that day, leaving the poor guy to deal with the growing line of customers all by himself. Although it had been a bit of an inconvenience, Taehyun didn't give him too much of a hard time about it because for one thing, it had been kind of cute to see him all flustered, and for another, Jungwon was someone who was usually pretty diligent with his work.
But here you are again. Cue Jungwon forgetting how to function like a normal human being.
“Hi,” Jungwon finally says, barely able to restrain the grin that he knows is a little too wide to be casual. “What are you doing here?”
You can't help but laugh. “You have got to stop greeting me like that every time I come here! Do you not like me visiting you at work?” You turn as if to leave, mostly to see how he'd react.
“No no wait sorry!” He reaches over and grabs your arm, planting it on the counter. “I just meant that if you were planning on coming here then we could've left together,” he drawls.
“Well, it was more of a last minute decision. Class got cancelled and I thought I'd just drop by and check out the new drink you were raving about. See what all the fuss is about,” you shrug nonchalantly, though the twinkle in your eyes betrays you. You're hyper-aware of the fact that his hand is ever-so-lightly brushing your forearm.
“Oh you’ll see alright,” he assures you, and with just a hint of nervousness seeping into the confidence, he enquires, “so, is that the only reason you're here?” He steals a quick glance at your lips, the pretty curve of them, before meeting your eyes again.
“Why else?” you ask, as though you have no idea what he could possibly be alluding to, although your hammering heart and the cheeky grin spreading across your face tell otherwise. Jungwon’s own giddy smile says he isn’t slow to catch on, either.
“I see. Strictly beverage purposes then.”
“Strictly,” you nod solemnly, suppressing your smile.
Taehyun clears his throat. “So, your order?”
You blink, suddenly remembering that you have an audience, and also that you're not just here to see Jungwon (well that's the story anyway). “Oh right, yes! Sorry. One Dalgona coffee, please.”
Jungwon flashes you an apologetic smile as he gets to work. “Sit wherever you'd like, your order will be ready in 10!”
Jungwon is so nervous about getting your order absolutely perfect that he messes up twice. Taehyun shakes his head, both amused and exasperated. When Jungwon starts to try for the third time, he stops him. “Gimme, I'll do it.” Jungwon mumbles a relieved thank you before internally chiding himself to get a grip. He can't continue to be such a mess every time you're around.
When he's done, Taehyun places the drink on the counter, ready to be served. He can see Jungwon open his mouth to say something and then change his mind and turn away. This happens again when he sees the waiter approaching and Taehyun rolls his eyes. “Oh my God, Jungwon, just go. I know you're itching to give it to them yourself,” he says, smiling despite himself.
Jungwon rubs the back of his neck, embarassed. “You sure?”
“Yeah yeah. We're not that busy yet it's fine. But just don't stay too long – you never know when our manager might drop by to check.”
He places the tray on the table in front of you, making sure to keep it as far away as possible from your books and worksheets so as to not ruin them.
“Ooo, what's this?” you ask, pointing to the ice cream sandwiches.
“Just little complementary treats.”
He watches you take the first sip and sees your eyes widen. “Oh, my God. This is a-mazing! What do you put in it?!”
“Well, it’s called a secret ingredient for a reason,” he beams. If he keeps being this cute you feel like one of these days you might just let your intrusive thoughts win and reach out to poke a finger into his adorable dimples. “Alright well enjoy the rest of it. I'm afraid I gotta get back,”
As he walks back, Jungwon finds that he's kind of glad the kiss didn't happen last night – he would like to properly ask you out first. How should he do it? Maybe he should keep it sweet and simple, make you a latte heart or something. Yeah, maybe you’d like that. And what should your first date be? Something cliché like a movie or dinner date? Or something unique? Ahh, he doesn’t know. If it were up to him, he’d just be content to have you over and do what you used to do before he started the internship. He doesn't care what you do as long as you are together.
9:32 am.
Jungwon steals a glance at your table and is surprised to find Heeseung with you. Huh. Guess you two had plans to meet up here. He waits as he serves two other customers to see if Heeseung would come to order anything for himself. When he doesn’t, Jungwon decides to go over himself and say hi.
As he approaches, he notices that you two seem to be deep in conversation, talking animatedly, and he slows, wondering if he should maybe come back after a while. Bits of the conversation float up to him right then and he freezes :
“It's so obvious that you like Jungwon–”
“I don't like him! It's just that he's so nice to Maeumi and so sweet to me and– Ugh, hold on I'm getting a call. Hello?”
Oh.
Right.
Of course.
It suddenly feels like someone just sucked all the sunlight out of the room. Jungwon turns right around, relieved that neither of you noticed him. Taehyun looks up from scrolling through his phone when he rushes back to the counter. He yanks his apron off, hangs it up hastily and grabs his things to leave.
“Wha–” he starts to ask but Jungwon cuts him off.
“Something came up. I have to go,” he apologises for the short notice and is out the door before the latter even has a chance to reply.
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a/n : please tell me at least one of y'all noticed the foreshadowing from profiles 2 🙏🏽
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denim-mixtapes · 2 years
Note
Hi I love your writing!! Could you do some kind of meet cute with new neighbor Steve? Total romantic comedy over-the-top cute but unrealistic type shit.
Hi friend thank you for this, I love ooey gooey stupid little meet-cutes so I had fun with it!! I hope it meets your expectations!
Pairing: Steve/Reader (no pronouns or gendered terms used) W/C: ~1k Warnings: Mild nudity (just undies!), language, awkward lil reader.
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Having a laundry room in your new apartment building was definitely a privilege, maybe even the best feature the place had to offer. The fact that you didn’t have to lug your washing downtown to the laundromat was initially what sold you on the place. However, it came with its downfalls too…like getting too comfortable in the still-very-public-place that just happened to only be two doors down and across the hall from your apartment. 
It was late. Too late to still be up doing chores, but they needed to be done unless you wanted to show up to work the next day in the same pants you’d been wearing for four days. So you found yourself in the laundry room just a little past 11 PM on a Sunday, no sign of life in the hallways, and an overflowing hamper on your hip. 
After dumping the contents of your hamper into the washer and loading it up with detergent and quarters you were about to press start when a bright, bold grease stain from the chili at Benny’s glared back up at you from your jeans. It had to be fresh, you wore these jeans yesterday on your day off and they were perfectly fine, so it must have happened sometime during your shift today. 
You let out a string of curses and took a peek around the room. Crickets. The building was practically asleep when you crossed the hallway to get here. 
So with a sigh and a silent prayer you bent at the waist, pushing the denim down your legs as you went, and stepped out of them. Hurried now, you chucked the pants into the wash and slammed the on button, turned on your heel to run back to your apartment before anyone saw you pulling a full-on Donald Duck through the hallways. 
Except when you yanked the door open the path back home was obstructed. There was a boy in your way, but you didn’t notice until it was too late, when you crashed full force into his chest and sent both of you tumbling to the ground along with his laundry. 
“Shit,” you mumbled, scrambling away from him on the floor and trying to push wayward clothes back in his direction. “Sorry, I – I didn’t expect anyone else to be up and about.” 
“Yeah,” the boy laughed, and when he cocked his head at you, all of his long, gravity defying hair flopped to one side with the motion. “Is that why you were running out of the laundry room, you maniac?” Though his words were harsh, you didn’t take offense. There was a jest in them, a playful kind of ring that felt good in your ears. 
He stood, brushed invisible dust from his clothes and then offered you a hand up. His palm was warm against yours as he helped you up, but the heat rising in your cheeks was even worse. You were acutely aware of your situation and you could barely get a word out without stuttering, but if this stranger took notice he didn’t let on. 
“Yeah, I, uh,” you chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously, pulling at the hem of your tee shirt, thankful it was at least somewhat oversized. “Was just trying to make it back across the hall quickly in case anyone actually was awake…which they were. You were. God…” You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself and hide your face in your hands. You rushed out a response. “Sorry, I’ll – I’ll go. I’m just gonna move out, actually, hello and also goodbye new neighbor.” 
“Shame,” he mumbled through a smirk, “I was kind of hoping we could make a habit out of bottomless laundry days around here, now you’re telling me I have to start that trend all by myself?” He really pushed the joke, making sure you knew he was just teasing, raised his eyebrows and let a smile broaden over his admittedly pretty features, and waited for you to crack a smile before he tacked on, “M’Steve. 
Crossing your ankles and holding down your shirt with one hand, you introduced yourself and reached out to take his hand again, shaking it this time. “I just moved into apartment 1E, just across the hall there. It’s- it’s why I thought I was safe just booking it.” 
Steve skirted around you to load his own machine and spoke over his shoulder. “It’s happened to the best of us,” he chuckled, “although you had the right idea trying it at almost midnight. The grandmas in this building are usually all in bed by 8. It’s just me and my roommate Robin you’ll have to worry about at this hour.” 
“Thanks for the intel,” you snorted, taking the opportunity with his back turned to pick up your own empty basket and bag of quarters that dumped over when you fell. 
He was quick though, and quick enough was kneeling down next to you helping you retrieve the scattered change. “Anytime,” he said warmly, dropping the quarters into your outstretched palm. You both left the room together, baskets underarm, and before he left up the stairs he offered you one more charming smile. “I’m in 3B. You know, if you ever need, like, a cup of sugar or have any questions about the building or anything.” Two steps up the stairs, he turned around to add, “or just to hang out. Pants or not. You know where to find me.” 
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hoodie-buck · 2 years
Text
you make me happy
rated: g | words: 1k | read on ao3
bc i had a few feelings about tonight’s episode <3
Eddie can already see the look on Hen’s face, the one that tells him the guys already gone. He can’t see Bucks face, only the determination in his hands, pressing on the guys chest and trying to will him back to life.
Hen’s head shakes and Eddie’s heart sinks.
They exit together, taking the two friends that are still alive out first, their other friend close behind. He already knows Buck is blaming himself; no matter who’s fault it is or isn’t, Buck always bares the weight.
It’s a silent ride back to the station, Eddie knocking his shoulders into Bucks for reassurance, his best friend giving a bleak smile in return. Eddie hates it, hates that there isn’t anything he can do; not really.
They strip of their turnouts and hit the showers, the four of them stood at their lockers after. Eddie turns to Chim who’s already looking to him, Eddie quickly adverting his attention to Buck and then Hen, the two looking sullen, lost in their heads.
With an unspoken agreement between him and Chim, Eddie mentions breakfast, Buck quickly bailing out, followed closely by Hen. He gets it, he does; he just wishes he could take their pain away.
Even so, Eddie isn’t surprised to hear the click of his door turning about an hour later, the tell-tale footsteps of his best friend letting himself in. There’s something so easy and reassuring about it—Eddie wishes it were always like this.
As Buck enters the kitchen, Eddie already has two beers open and ready, sliding one over to Buck.
They drink in silence for a bit, Buck playing with the label on the bottle more than anything. While Eddie will speak in his own time, he knows Buck needs a little push, a reassurance if you will.
“You wanna talk about it?”
Buck shrugs and Eddie waits; now it’s in Bucks hands.
“Are you at ease?”
It’s an odd question in general, though coming from Buck, it’s fairly tame.
Eddie isn’t sure how to answer, several scenarios coming to mind.
“Well, if you would’ve asked me a few months ago, no. But these days—I’m a little more at ease, sure.”
Buck nods though he doesn’t say anything, Eddie prying a little further.
“How about you, Buck, are you at ease?”
Buck sets his bottle onto the counter then, using his arms to press his weight into it as he lets out a heavy sigh.
“That guy, he-he figured out what it means, to be happy, ya know? Like there was this magical thing right in front of him, but then he was just—”
“Gone?” Eddie supplies when Buck chokes on the word.
“Yea.”
He knows Bucks been reading Bobby’s AA book, that he’s been trying to find a meaning to happiness, but he’s not sure exactly what it is his best friend’s looking for.
“Are you happy Buck?”
“I’m trying to be.”
Their eyes meet for the first time then, Buck’s a sea of blue and red rimmed. Eddie aches to reach out to him.
“I—I don’t wanna be like him…like-like that guy.”
“In what way?”
He watches as Buck debates for a minute, finally pushing out some truth.
“They were best friends Eds, had been for years, and then when they had nothing, they still had each other.”
Oh. Eddie thinks he understands now.
“You know I-I wanna die sometimes, you know have thought about it, I mean.” Buck shakes his head, Eddie refraining from reaching out again. “But-but it’s also what terrifies me the most. I’m scared of dying and never figuring out what it means to be happy…to be comfortable in my own skin.”
Well that—was definitely not where Eddie thought the conversation was going.
Stepping around the island, Eddie sidles up next to Buck, not stopping himself from reaching out this time as he places a hand to his best friends shoulder. He ducks his head until he captures Bucks attention, those sad blues looking right into him.
“I can’t tell you what the secret is Buck—hell I don’t think I’ve found it myself, but what I can tell you is what brings me happiness.”
Buck doesn’t look away, doesn’t try to pull out of his touch, so Eddie takes that as his sign to go on.
“Christopher is obviously at the top of my list, along with the 118. You know, the family we choose.” At that Buck cracks a smile, the sight warming Eddie wholly.
He takes a risk then, trying not to reveal too much of himself while comforting Buck at the same time.
“And then there’s you, Buck. Having you in my life makes me happy. You make me happy, no matter how much of a pain in the ass you can be sometimes.”
That gets Buck ducking his head with that private smile of his, and Eddie chuckles a little for it.
When their eyes meet again, it’s Buck who speaks this time.
“You uh, you make me happy too. And Chris, of course.”
Eddie smiles. “Yea, he’s a pretty great kid.”
“You did a good job raising him Eds. Best father I know.”
“Yea, well I’ve had a lot of help.”
Bucks brows raise in that shocked way he always gets whenever Eddie lays out the truth.
“Yea well, it-it makes me happy, being—being with you guys.”
Eddie knows it does, but it still makes him melt a little to hear it.
Pushing the beers to the side, Eddie looks to Buck with a pointed stare.
“C’mon, let’s go catch some shut eye before we have to get Chris from school.”
Eddie grabs Buck’s arm before he can protest and drags the man to his room and down onto the bed with him. Buck lays there a little stiffly, Eddie pulling his best friend so that Bucks back meets his chest, their hands linking together at Bucks front.
He can feel Bucks heart beating a little fast, knows his is too.
“Is this—is this ok?”
Eddie buries his face into Bucks neck, squeezing where their hands are interlocked.
“Yes. You make me happy, Evan.”
After a few minutes, Buck relaxes into Eddie’s touch, his heart beat steadying itself.
“You make me happy Eds, always.”
Sometimes happiness can’t be described. It has to be seen, felt. Maybe happiness wasn’t a feeling at all, but rather the people you surrounded yourself with. It wasn’t something you achieved, but rather found, Buck and Eddie finding happiness in each other.
tagging squad below, lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3
tags: @buddiextarlos @fearlessdiaz @mansikkaomenabanaani @confetti-cupcake @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @swiftiebuckleyhan @loveyourownsmiilee @justsmilestuffhappens @honestlydarkprincess @prettyboyandthekid @corgiqueen14 @zainclaw @constructiononsunset @djdangerlove @bifirefighters @mr-and-mr-diaz @blaidddrwg1982 @buddierights @crazyfangirlallert @imsupposedtobewritting @dickley-buddie @panicatthediaz @princessbb @jacksadventuresinwriting @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @eddiediazisascorpio @daughterofbuddie @gayhoediaz
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lutawolf · 2 years
Text
Love In the Air Ep 6 Review & Running Commentary
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I'm fucking loving this series and it's beautiful mess of kink. I find it absolutely hilarious that people thought Unforgettable Night with it's complete kink inaccuracy, somehow represents better than LITA. Um, no. For those new to me, I review for my fellow kinksters and the vanillas that want to be informed. I do have previous reviews that can be found here. 
Alright, everyone have their freak flag ready to wave! Let's get started!
We are staring where we left off, at the illegal street race. Anyone notice that they changed wife to darling?? OMG, he ducked behind Payu. How fucking cute. We get introduced to P' Chai who clearly scares Rain. Always good to have a healthy respect for the scary people. So there are some brains there.
P' Chai asking if he is that scary and the brothers laughing. Yeah, they some bad asses. Also tells you how valuable the brothers are. Then he leaves and Rain finally understand why Payu had been scared. Now that Rain has a healthy respect, Payu can reassure him.
The Near Raging Storm
Oh here come those fucking jokers from before. Tweetle Dee and Tweetle Dumb. What fucking tools. You gonna regret fucking around with Saifah. He just looks cuddle, he isn't really. Ahhh! here comes Prapai to get access to his soon to be man. But he gets interrupted. You see his face, he is like Bitch, lol. Then he realizes what Saifah wants and he is down for the game. Yay! Teach the tool Prapai! I mean, he won't learn shit cause he is Tweetle Dumb of the equation but it'll be fun to watch.
"I'm proud of myself for being such a good guy." Told you Saifah wasn't someone to fuck around with. "I'm taking the time to teach the asshole a lesson." 🤣🤣🤣 OH no you didn't. You don't fuck with Payu. Fuck around and find out. You lucky Prapai saved you dumb dumb. Now he really gonna leave you in his dirt. Stop boy! Cocky is only sexy on a Dom, you don't have that swagger. FYI, it's always better to let the bike warm up and do a natural speed and then throttle which is what you are seeing from Prapai. Not that I have ridden in almost 18 years. So bikes have probably changed a bit since then. Fuck I'm getting old.
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Well guess who won. No surprise there. See, Prapai's confidence is sexy. Here you go, touching Payu again. Somebody beat his ass. "Because your incompetent." 🤣🤣🤣 Yes!! I love Payu's cocky but see he can back it up. Oh P'Chai, I'm gonna need your story next. I like you, I do. Haha, you so stupid, calling P'Chai a lackey. P'Chai is gonna be nice and give you a chance. Sadly.
Oh fuck, that hand on Payu's face is doing all kinds of things to me. It's love people, it's love! See this dude has his shit together. A mechanic is something to be proud of. I mean I couldn't do it, I just want to put my key in and foot down. But the people who can do all that, respect.
Look at this cutie trying to cheer up his man. You suck at it but that takes practice. Your trying and that's what matters. Ahh. "Has this darling ever been scared of his husband." "Yes, Because your so strict." "Because your disobedient." "I'm not. If I was disobedient would I let you hug and kiss me." "I haven't kissed you yet." "You do things slowly sometimes." Then they kiss. Some of this sounds like they are addressing guidelines and then some of this seems like bad translation. I'll have to go back and pay more attention.
Working on the weekends. Aww, Rain is waiting for him at the garage and look at Payu smile. True Love. I will not be taking any arguments. This is True Love with capitals. And there goes Payu to get back to his man.
Look at him simping over his man. So cute. So far no D/s elements just two love birds. Living life, being disgustingly in love. I spoke too soon. Payu brings Rain a reward but the reward is not good enough. Rain wants a better reward. Ahh negotiations. "it's your duty." "Since when has it been my duty." "It's your duty because your the owner's boyfriend." "Oh, I thought you were going to kiss me on the lips." I want a real reward! lol. Welcome to a brat being a brat, we love them. Saifah! You are the ban of my existence! I love you and I hate you.
Okay so Payu has been challenged by the tool. Rain is chilling when Payu comes to tell him that he is staying over. Rain goes to argue and that was a Dom "No." Rain still continues but softens his voice. "But I haven't said anything." "Your going to ask me to not race aren't you?" Good job, talk it out. I don't want to hear shit about a Dom listening to their sub. A brat sub is absolutely allowed to voice their opinion. Now we can override them and often will on principle, if we don't know they really mean it. Which Rain is letting him know, that this is a serious topic for him. Look at Payu listening. He's going to override but he is making sure Rain feels heard. Good Dom. Now reassurance and comfort. Fuck I'm loving this couple. We are seeing a softer Dom from Payu but this is pretty normal once a D/s relationship is agreed on. Why? Because in the begging your letting the submissive know what you expect. They need to understand what they are getting into, they need to be tested. So they can get out before anyone gets attached. It's a rewarding relationship but not an easy one.
Not Prapai here for the sole purpose of talking to Rain and getting Sky's info. 🤣🤣🤣 Love it! Omg, not brother and best friend staring at them with fondness and also admitting to each other that they've seen Payu lose. This series gonna kill me.
Look a man in uniform is just hot. All kinds of uniforms. It's the taking it off that's truly special though. And Payu can defiantly see that Rain wants it. Hurry and get this race done Payu so we can all see him rip it off. Oh command "put them on me." brat gonna tease "One minute you want to take it off, the next you want to put it on. So hard to please." "Am I really hard to please?" yup, nope, didn't think so. Look at the cute couple with the cute smiles. Oh fuck off, we're having a moment here. You is a dog, you is.
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All pictures stolen from @akitbeast by the way.
Your honor, I love these two dorks. Okay Payu, I'm gonna need you to stop giving him such a lead. I don't like tight races against dumbasses. Stomp him into next year. Thank you! Show him the fuck around and find out.
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Gif stolen from @ichigokeks This has got to be my favorite moment. Look how uncaring Rain is, he's just hoping into his man's arms. And that smile from Payu! Ahhhhh!
They going to fuck! Payu wants his reward! Nobody care about you. ✌🏽 Ummm. I think I'm bout to have lied about my favorite part.
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Cause this for sure is promising. Woot! Oh Oh, yes, push him up against a wall. We approve. Ohhhh yeah, I lied, I lied! This is my favorite part of this episode. The other part was cute but this is hot. Dirty talk, dirty talk. Fuck me, they really are hitting all my kinks. Thank you to the kinster that helped with this series. May you have all the blessings. Cause you sure as hell blessing me.
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Shitttttttttttt, Payu I'm gonna need you to wear that racing outfit more. Yes, yes, all those outfits would be good too. "I don't have that kind of kink! Um but yes." 🤣🤣🤣 Don't worry Rain, this is a kinkster safe space.
Cause he wants to know more about him. Well duh but also awww. Yeah, I think we've clearly establish that you guys like each other. Aww. Saying I Love You without officially saying it. I tell my husband that I like him sooo. 🤣🤣🤣
"This is what I call seducing with a costume." #dead. And there is the Sadist. Only gonna get so much soft Dom with that added kink of Sadist. And there is the brat "That is what I call rude." He got your number now Payu, he knows your a Sadist. That ass smack says his seduction worked some. Nope it's not over. That douche canoe is gonna continue to cause problems.
Aww, yes, hurry back home to the baby. More like married couple. They gonna make me mushy. If I didn't know some shady shit was about to come thanks to that douche canoe. Okay, did you notice the command in the form of a request? Not all commands are hard, especially once a couple is more established. Because we can say it nicer as we know it will be done. Generally speaking, you get a good idea on what your brat is gonna push back on.
Fuck they are cute. And yup, douche canoe strikes. To Be Continued.
I didn't think I would be getting this done so early. To be fair, I'm not vehicle shopping like I should be but I'm a little depressed about it. So decided to cheer myself up with the series. Then it went by quick. Maybe cause there wasn't as much kink for me to comment on? So you just got a crap ton of commentary. Sorry! As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read these. Love you guys! 💜💜💜
Dedicated to @l0rd0fther1ng5g5 and the Coconuts Mafia for their ongoing support.
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When I was in high school, I was affectionately given the nickname “loose cannon” by my friends/teammates. The nickname stuck for years; my best friend gave me a pen engraved with the words “loose cannon” for my 27th birthday. I wore it proudly, I like being the loose cannon. Sometimes the world needs a loose cannon. But also, being a loose cannon is tiring and sometimes a genuinely bad idea.
I was given this nickname as a teenager, when my team was taken over by a coach who was an abusive asshole in many ways, and one of those ways involved sexism. Throughout my first few years in the sport – 2004 to 2010 or so – I went between being the only girl on my coed team, and one of two or three girls. The number of girls in the sport increased significantly about ten years ago, and now it’s still not 50/50, but hovers around 65/45, which is a massive improvement. But not when I was that age.
When I was that age, high school and early university, I was hanging out with my male teammates, struggling through practice and then hanging out afterward to complain about how much we hated our horrible abusive sexist coach. Think the villains in Karate Kid/Cobra Kai, or perhaps Mighty Ducks. Sports movies with cartoonish villains are often less of an exaggeration than one might expect.
We all did different things to rebel against him. Subtle things, mostly, because we were young and had no power and none of us would have been there if he had anything besides this sport in our lives, that would mean we could risk getting kicked off the team. Mainly, we complained about him to each other in cars parked in lots on the way home from practice.
I was the first one to decide I couldn’t keep quiet anymore. I had a huge issue with my coach when I was sixteen years old, involving his treatment of the girls, and first I conducted this feud through vaguely passive-aggressive emails. I read through every single page of the provincial and national code of ethics and code of conduct, and highlighted all the parts he was breaking, because I thought if I just did enough homework and knew enough about what I was talking about then I could win. But he didn’t care. No one actually cares if you do bother to know what you’re talking about. I remember sitting in practice, seething, listening to him tell us how girls were different from boys, digging fingernails into my hands to stop myself from saying anything.
One day after practice, I got into an argument, and I lost it on him. I mean – I remember it as me losing it. I didn’t, really. I never yelled or swore or anything. He yelled. I remember him yelling. I remember me not yelling. But I did tell him what I thought of him, for the first time. I accused him of being the reason my one female teammate had left, moved across the country to a bigger team that was supposed to be really good for girls (since then, the coach of that team has lost his job over sexual abuse of female athletes, after ten years of allegations that didn’t lead to him losing his job until some finally brought enough legal pressure to force his employers’ hands, so, you know, nothing is good anywhere). I told him the methods he was bringing in weren’t okay, none of the athletes were happy, I hated the way he treated me differently from the boys but also those boys were my teammates and I hated the way he treated us all. It was the first time any of us had ever gone off on him this way.
Obviously, it didn’t help. I was ostracized from the team for a long time, he took his anger out on all of us for weeks, nothing got better but things got a little worse. It was a stupid thing to do. I think that incident is actually the first thing that got me nicknamed “loose cannon”. The way my teammates and I saw it, we were in a tactical war against this guy, trying to beat him by legitimate means. And I had just gone off because I couldn’t control my anger, and it made us all look bad.
Ever since then, that’s been my role. My best friend and I stuck around until that guy finally left town, went off to run another team seven hours away and terrorize the athletes down there for a few years (before moving again and then finally losing his coaching certification for a number of reasons). So we took over the team, and have been running it ever since. But there are always new people to fight. Always. People who do fucked up things, which always includes sexism. We’re always getting tangled in the politics and the drama, and of the two of us, I’m the one who risks my reputation by doing what I think is right even if it’s stupid and gets me into trouble and fights, while my friend is the acceptable and respectable face of us, making friends and being charismatic. He’s good at that. He can be friendly and polite and likeable and all the things I’m not. While I go out with my anger and then wonder why it never works out the way I want. We make a good team that way – my friend does acknowledge that we need both sides sometimes to get anything done.
But it’s fucking demoralizing, and I can’t emotionally detach myself. I don’t have any mode besides trying really hard and caring a lot about what happens. I have a letter in my file that gets sent to the principal of any school where I try to coach, because in 2013, some high school girls told me the coach from their school was making them mop the mats but not the boys because it’s women’s work, telling the boys not to work with them because it’s a waste of time working with girls, making vaguely creepy comments about their appearances, and at the championships, they wanted me in their corner instead of him. I looked it up, learned that the official championship rules say any coach from our city can corner any athlete from our city and doesn’t need to be from their school, I printed out the page of the rules that said so in case I got challenged and brought it to the tournament. When we got there, I went into their corner against their high school coach’s instructions. He complained about me to the commissioner, I presented the rule page when challenged, I was told that rules or not, he’s their school coach, and it’s “common courtesy” to let him decide who corners them. Because fuck what they want.
I was told this was the discretion of the entire city’s athletic director, who was back home, five hours away, and would not be on my side, but if I wanted to take this farther I could take it to him, but unless I could change his mind I wouldn’t be allowed to corner them anymore. I thought about how I’d promised those girls I’d be there for them and protect them from this guy, so I said yeah, give me the athletic director’s number. I called that guy, whom I’d never met before, and he shut me down immediately. Said no, I was being disrespectful and impolite to a man who had been a stalwart of the sport since before I’d been born (which is true, the sexist coach they hated was about 60 and I was 22 at the time), and then he very literally said the words “If I hear about you going near any athletes from that school for the rest of this week, I will make sure you never coach in this city again.” Like I said, sports movies are often not far off in their levels of drama.
I now have a letter in my file, warning the principals of any school where I try to coach that I have a history of being disrespectful to other coaches so they should be careful about me. It says that in 2013, I told an athletics commissioner “I don’t care about common courtesy.” Which is true – I did say those words. The letter on covers half the sentence, though. The entire thing I said was “I don’t care about common courtesy, I care about protected high school girls from sexist assholes.” The letter doesn’t say that. By the way, a few years after all this happened, I learned that it’s been one of those “open secrets” for years that the athletics director who threatened me on the phone routinely offers female teachers promotions in exchange for blowjobs. But sure, I was the one being inappropriate. Do I still hold a grudge over some shit that happened in 2013? Yeah, maybe.
That’s what I do, though. It’s a running joke among my friends that I can hold a grudge forever. That I get angry about things and never let them go. That I can’t just let shit go, fucking loose cannon. And it’s exhausting. It’s exhausting being this angry all the time. I had a complete breakdown in 2019, when I resigned from a provincial board spot I’d worked so hard for, because I found out fellow members of the board had spent their own money to legally protect another known predator in the sport, and I couldn’t think of any way to protest except to resign, and of course that didn’t do anything, but being on the board didn’t do anything either, nothing ever does anything, and I got so fucking tired of being so angry all the time that I could barely get out of bed in the morning.
Today, my team look unimaginably different than it did when I was a teenager. We have something close to gender parity, or we did pre-COVID. The ratio has titled away from the female athletes, as they came back in smaller numbers post-lockdowns, but we’re growing it again. There’s one guy really getting in the way right now, though. He’s been coming into practice late, which sounds like not that big a deal, and often isn’t when most people do, but it’s the way he does it. He does it on purpose, to make the point that he’s above all this. He doesn’t listen to anyone, but makes a special point of not listening to the female coaches at all. He won’t work with the girls because it’s a waste of time, apparently. He’s been heard spouting toxic shit in the change rooms. We had problems with him at tournaments, showboating during and after matches, making out team look bad. We’ve heard from the girls that he’s been saying things to make them uncomfortable. He doesn’t treat them like his teammates anymore.
And we know what it is. We know what it fucking is, it’s always the same thing. It’s the fucking podcasts. We had this same problem last year, and earlier this year, with a different guy, who was also into those podcasts. You know the ones. Joe Rogan and Jordan Peterson are the gateway drugs, the “acceptable” face of it that people get into and then it leads to the ever worse shit. All these male voices telling younger male people (this guy’s 21, the guy from earlier this year was 24, we’ve been seeing lower levels of the problem in lots of boys for the last few years, aged anywhere from 15 to 25) that they’re better than everyone else, they have to go in and establish themselves as the alpha male. The roommate I had up until mid-2023 was into those podcasts, I know because I heard them from his bedroom. So many people are.
We’re going to have to kick him off the fucking team. We asked his best friend, a guy on the team around his age who’s known him since they were young, what he saw happening, if he thinks his friend is too far gone. And he said yeah, the coming to practice late is bad, but what’s worse is he’s become “and Andrew Tate incel”, and we need to get rid of him to avoid letting him spread the ideology to younger athletes more than he already has. His own friend said that. It’s gone too far.
I loved this guy. I have this memory of when he was fifteen, I drove five hours to pick him up for a camp. Because he had no money, and this camp was for kids with money, but he worked hard and we didn’t want him to miss out. So the team paid for his entry, and I drove him home, which his parents couldn’t do because they had six other kids and no money. I drove five hours in the morning, arrive at three PM, picked up him and his two friends, drove five hours back.
When I picked them up, the receptionist wasn’t sure if she could let them go with me, as I did not appear to be the legal guardian of these three large Middle Eastern teenagers. But then they came in, took one look at me, and shouted “Mama” and jumped on me because they hadn’t seen me in a week and had missed me. That’s what they always called me, because they’re first language is Arabic and “Mama” is the Arabic word for Mom. The receptionist saw this and said I can take them. All the way home, we played music and sang along and talked shit about the other teams. It was great.
I have another memory of this kid. When he was maybe seventeen, we picked him up at his house to drive him to a tournament. My best friend dropped me off at a nearby gas station, then went by the kid’s house, picked him up, went back to the gas station and got me. Because if the kid’s dad saw there was a woman on this trip, he wouldn’t let his son go. Because he was a conservative Muslim who believes his son shouldn’t mix with girls.
This kid overcame that! He was raised from birth in a conservative Muslim household, learned not to interact with girls, ignored that, developed a close enough coach/athlete bond with me to call me a name that said I was like a mother to him, had years of taking my advice in the sport, and being a good teammate to the girls and the boys. He overcame religious-based brainwashing, which is supposed to be the most powerful type of brainwashing. But now, a couple of years of Jordan Peterson-style podcast brainwashing, and it’s turned him into an unrecognizable person. A person we have to get off our team for the sake of everyone.
I can’t fucking tolerate it. You can get by in my sport without doing a bit of “Oh yeah, that guy has some backwards views on women, you know he listens to some of those podcasts, but his heart’s in the right place really, he’s okay.” If you hated every person you could say that about, you wouldn’t be able to tolerate almost anyone in the sport. And the thing is, I’m getting closer and closer to the point where I can’t tolerate almost anyone in the sport. I feel like a teenager again, talking to my male friends, seeing that they’re on the right side but being smart and picking their battles, and I just can’t. I can’t be okay with any of it. I want to say fuck them all. I understand that they’re right, that the people who aren’t loose cannons are right, the people who don’t hold a grudge forever, who can be in a room with these fucking people and not either desperately want to yell at them or actually yell at them, who can compromise and let go of stuff and get along. They’re right. But I’m still angry.
This post was incoherent, and I’m posting it unedited because I can’t bring myself to read this vent/rant back so sorry that it’ll be even more error-ridden than most things on this blog, but there is one overarching message to this post. And that message is, I’m tired of being the only girl and also the only person who can’t ignore this shit.
So, I have to say, if there were a male person who went off on someone for being into Jordan Peterson, to argue with him pointlessly and angrily and in a way that made another man who witnessed it say “What’s wrong with you?”, not because the witnessing man thinks Jordan Peterson is fine, just because he’s a reasonable person who knows that picking fights with people doesn’t help. But he doesn’t care, because he’s too angry about sexism to let shit go. If there were a man who did that, rather than it always being the women’s job to do it, then that man might earn my undying loyalty.
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pbandjesse · 8 months
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Today was another very grey day. But it was also a nice day. I was to cold but I still had a nice time.
I had a lot of trouble falling asleep. I was up until at least 2. Which I did not enjoy. And then I had intense dreams that were to realistic and confusing. So I woke up in a weird head space.
But when I woke up I was determined to do the things I had promised myself I would do.
I went and got washed and dressed. And then I striped the bed and changed the sheets. Tried to make the space nice.
I did some dusting. And then vacuumed. I was a little frustrated with our vacuum and felt like to wasn't working as well as it should. But I did my best.
James had gone out this morning and put gas in the car and gotten me a bagel. Love them so much. I had my bagel and shared some cream cheese with sweetp.
I had checked on the mice first thing and they were crispy again. I swear I have washed them like 4 separate times today. They just keep standing in the milk!! Stop that! I'm going to start introducing some fruits and veggies. Try to start weaning them off the milk. I am worried about them still. But they seem strong right now. I changed the towels in there again. Trying to do that plenty since they keep getting the milk in everything and I don't like the smell. But I think they are going pretty good.
I would work on some knitting. And by the end of the day today I had finished all the squares I needed!! I changed the layout a little to be 6x6 instead of 5x8 and so I have some extra squares but I think it will look really nice. And I'm just thrilled.
This morning though I would only have time to make one and start a second. I laid out all the pieces so I could come back later and pin them (which James was lovely enough to do for me), but I felt super proud of the progress.
I also watched a documentary this morning about how dangerous duck boats are. I don't know if I had ever been in one as a child but I know I haven't as an adult. Which is shocking because I love being on boats. But they just seems so sketchy and now I know I was right to be concerned. Wildly dangerous.
Once my doc was over I headed to awah.
The parking pad is still being worked on so I had to park up the hill. But I was still there before 1230. When I came inside I was surprised to see Zoe and Naomi had beaten me. And apparently Naomi called me s few minutes before. I was like. Guys. I told you I will be there at 1230. No rushing me.
But we got inside and got things set up. Zoe and me took the sign outside and it got rained on so it bubbled up and looked very strange. Plus the arrow was pointing the wrong way. Oops. I had Zoe draw a new arrow on a piece of paper and stick it on there.
It was a fun class though. Water color paintings based on Alma Thomas. I was pleased to see Ireland and Naomi, student Naomi not assistant Naomi, and Jasmine. Everyone seemed to really like the project. We did have a new student who couldn't handle having art not on a school day and cursed and yelled a lot which freaked a few of the sensory sensitive kids out. Mom took him out and I felt bad. But I felt worse when I saw that Mary Ellen was crying a little. She said it reminded her of when her daughter was younger and how sometimes they just couldn't do things because it was a change of schedule and it wasn't something she could handle. You make life work the best you can but you really never know what life will hand you.
The adult class was really chill. Ari was funny and kept telling us how appropriate he was being. And apparently if he continues to be appropriate he gets to earn going to the thrift store to buy a book under $5. Which I was like. Oh dang I was to go to the thrift store too. So now we have that in common. It is always fun to find things in common with the people in my classes.
Zoe had to leave a bit early. But that was fine. Me and Naomi, with the help of Ari, Richard, and Lewis, got everything picked up. Lewis seemed to be in an amazing mood today and he spoke to me for basically the first time when he asked me to help him rubber band a deck of cards back together. And at the end he told me adios and wouldn't leave until I said it back. It was very sweet.
Once everyone was picked up Ari helped me bring our sign in after his dad told him to carry it for me. I think I alarmed the building correctly. And then it was time to go.
The walk up the hill was a little tough today. I was a little shaky cause I was hungry. But I got up there and wrote my notes and headed out.
I forgot artscape was still happening today. So I went the wrong way and had to go up and around to get to north avenue to go home. It took almost 20 minutes. It is normally a 6 minute drive. Very frustrated but I survived. And was home around 330.
When I got back here I checked on the mice and cleaned them up again. I changed and got on the cought to keep knitting. I would finished the last two squares by 515. I was thrilled.
James came home in that time too. And we decided to go to Golden West for dinner once I was done my second, and final, square.
Once I was done that we had a little celebration cheer and I got changed before we left.
And Golden West was fun but I didn't love my sandwich. I feel like.my taste buds have been weird the last couple days. Like everything tastes to much. Everything is bitter or overly sweet or just to strong. And they didn't have the vegetarian chicken I wanted so I got a vegan BLT which was fine but I really wanted something warm. And while our server was super nice and funny, he was also on his 3rd day every working there as a server and all of our food came out at wildly different times. Like I had eaten half of my sandwich befoee James got their tacos. James eats so fast so they still finished before me but that was crazy to me they would bring them out like that.
I enjoyed my fries and soda though. And they even brought me a tiny carafe of diet coke to refill my cup. I did not need a refill but then I felt wasteful so I drank more and gave myself a stitch in my side. Ah well. I still had a nice dinner with James. We talked about Christmas. And how we are going to do each other's stockings this year because we are our own nuclear family now. I also think it will be better. Special. More intimate you know ? Especially if we are thinking about trying for a baby now, it may be one of our last ones just us. And when baby gets here it will be more about them, so we should cherish this time in our lives before it changes again.
James was all high kicks and being silly on the way home. And when we got here we came inside and they worked on pinning my squares because they are an angel. While I cleaned duo the mice again!! Stop standing in the milk!!
Once James pinned everything I spent almost 2 hours sewing. And I have 4 of the 6 rows done already. So being done before the end of the week does not feel farfetched. Which feels really nice.
Once I was at a good stopping point I went and took a shower and now me and James are in bed. They are mostly asleep already. I'm only a little jealous they fall asleep so fast. But their sleep is not great still. I wish we both could get better rest. At least we are together.
I don't know what tomorrow will hold. I'm looking forward to a nice day off. I hope you all have a good day. Sleep well. Until next time!
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daintyduck99 · 2 years
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"You're family." + Ray and Reggie (You know I gotta!)
Julie answers the door with a radiant grin that makes Reggie’s cheeks burn.
“Reggie!” 
She throws her arms around him and reels him into the house, kicking the door shut behind them. She holds him tight, and he has no qualms about hugging her back just as fiercely. She’d be offended if he didn’t, and she fits in his arms perfectly. He rests his chin on her head. 
The Molinas give the best hugs, warm and undeniably welcoming, infused with a sort of stubborn affection that instantly relaxes Reggie. Luke and Alex like to rib him for being so eager to ditch the studio to see them, but sometimes he just needs the pick-me-up. 
Julie’s still beaming as they unravel from the hug, and his stomach flutters as she takes his hand, guiding him deeper into the house. 
Okay, so maybe he also has a tiny crush on their lead singer. It’s fine, he’s handling it. 
“What brings you here on a Sunday? Did Luke drag you out here to workshop the intro of that new song some more?” 
“Oh,” he stammers, highly aware that his cheeks are still on fire and that it’s worsening by the second under her bemused gaze, helpless to her gap-toothed grin. “No, I’m not he’s—me’s not here—I mean, it’s just me but—” 
She giggles, and he chews his lip to keep any more nonsense from falling out of his mouth. 
Great job, Reginald. You’re really handling it, Alex snarks in the back of Reggie’s head.
Julie squeezes his hand. “You’re just in time for brunch! We’re making pancakes.” 
“Oh, I just wanted to say hi since I was—I couldn’t impose—” 
He’s interrupted by Carlos, who tackles him around the middle as soon as they set foot in the kitchen. Julie’s hand slips out of Reggie’s, but not before Ray spots them, and he ducks his head to hide his flush at least a little as he goes to return Carlos’ hug.
“You have to help me make a spaceship out of pancakes!” Carlos insists excitedly, slightly muffled by Reggie’s shirt since he’s got his face mashed into his stomach. Reggie smiles. 
“Sure thing, little dude. So long as it’s cool with Ray.” 
Ray points his spatula at them. “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re always welcome here, Reggie. That goes for all of you boys. After all that you’ve done for Julie? You’re family.” 
“I didn’t—” Reggie starts automatically, only to swallow as Julie and Ray both frown at him and Carlos clings to him tighter, shaking his head. 
“You help me with my math homework and play games with me! You’re a really cool brother!” 
Julie plops a bowl of blueberries by Ray’s elbow and flies across the kitchen, ignoring Carlos’ disgruntled sound when he gets sandwiched in her bear hug. She rests her head on Reggie’s chest and whispers to his heart.
“You helped me find my voice again, Reggie. Not just my music. Myself. You really are the coolest. I’ll never be able to thank you enough. We love you.” 
She didn’t call him a brother, some delusional part of him notes, but he shoves that away.
“I love you guys too, of course I do, but that was Luke—” 
She thumps her forehead against his chest. “No, it was all of you! And you’re the one who chooses to spend time with my family. They’ve already claimed you. The best thing you can do is give in before Tia tries to make us get married, or something.” 
“Okay, this is getting way too mushy now,” Carlos complains, wriggling out of the embrace.
Ray clears his throat. “Julie, why don’t you help Carlos find the whisk? It’s buried in the pantry.”
Reggie shoots her a panicked look, but she just rolls her eyes, though her ears are tipped red. 
“Sure thing, dad.” Julie ushers Carlos into the walk-in pantry. She throws one last look over her shoulder and mouths, “It’ll be fine.” 
His nerves are still telling him that it’s anything but fine. He appreciates the effort, though. 
Reggie sidles over to Ray, heart bobbing in his throat, and accepts the spatula from him. He keeps his eyes glued to the pancake that’s already sizzling cheerfully in the skillet, blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil. Ray clasps his shoulder. 
“Reggie, you aren’t in trouble. You can stop staring at that pancake like this is its funeral.” 
A nervous laugh crawls out of his throat. “Right, right. You’re sure it’s not mine?” 
Ray coughs. Reggie’s 99% sure that it’s to cover a laugh. He releases Reggie’s shoulder. 
“Positive. I meant what I said, mijo. I’d adopt you if you weren’t in love with my daughter.” 
Reggie drops the spatula. This poor pancake is going to be as fried as his brain. 
“What?” he squeaks, scrambling to retrieve the spatula from the floor and hide his flaming face. “No, I mean, Julie’s wonderful and beautiful and a guy could get lost in her eyes forever but—” 
“Reggie.” Ray calmly flips the pancake with another spatula that he produced from who knows where. His mouth ticks up. “Breathe. I don’t need to give you a shovel talk. It’s clear that you give yourself enough of those. It’s okay.” 
He huffs. It technically counts as breathing. The pancake bubbles back at him. 
“It’s not! Isn’t it weird? I mean, I’ve sort of already wormed my way into her family and I don’t want her to feel like she owes me her love or anything—” 
“She thinks more highly of you than you realize. Than you do. You talk about yourself like you’re a vampire, mijo, and you aren’t. We love you. We like having you around. You’re the only kid in this house who actually listens to me when I ramble about photography. You carry things to the car for Victoria and never miss Carlos’ baseball games and I know you’re the reason that both of my kids are passing math. How is up to you and Julie, but you’re a part of this family.”
Reggie swallows. His eyes are burning, now, and he lets Ray fold him into a hug. He kisses the crown of Reggie’s head, something he’s seen him do to Julie and Carlos a million times, and Reggie’s powerless to prevent the tears from falling as Ray continues in a soft voice. 
“You’re so busy looking at Julie like she hung the moon that you never see the way she looks at you. Believe me, I was that boy once. You’d better tell her how you feel before she gets jealous and dumps a milkshake on the next girl who makes the mistake of flirting with you.” 
The anecdote startles a laugh out of him. Reggie sniffs. “Did Rose really do that?” 
“Oh, absolutely. Ask Victoria if you don’t believe me.” 
They do scorch that first pancake a little bit, but Reggie can’t bring himself to care, not when he feels so at home in all of these hugs. Julie stumbles out of the pantry with stars in her eyes, clutching the whisk and then Reggie to her chest. Carlos squints at them, but all Reggie can do is laugh and swing her around.
The Molinas really do give the very best hugs. 
They still need to have that talk, but the way Julie holds his hand under the table is pretty great, too. 
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demon-bfoty · 1 year
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bfoty plays: backfirewall_
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got done playing BackfireWall_ yesterday, and I really quite enjoyed it!
The premise of the game is essentially Osmosis Jones but inside a phone. You are the update assistant app for a phone, but then something goes wrong and you have to go on an adventure through the phone! You meet other apps and processes along the way and solving puzzles and it's all very neat.
The cast is fun, all based on different apps or processes as I said. Some are very obvious who they are meant to be. The writing is pretty good I found! Quite funny, got some laughs out of me. Didnt find the humour to be cringey or miss the mark really, all just well written imo.
The puzzles were not super duper tricky, but I did find myself getting stuck on one or two. But that leads to a great feature: The Rubber Duck. This lil guy exists to help you with puzzles, but doesnt flat out tell you the answer. You say to it that you need help, and it gradually gives hints. You can keep asking it to elaborate, or clarify (obviously with whatever the game provides, not that smart!) and it's a nice way to do it. Sometimes you just need that one domino to fall for you to get it, and it provides that service nicely. IRL I have used Rubber Duck Debugging many times, so it tickled me a lot.
The environments were also cool and felt well designed for the parts of a phone they were representing.
My main gripe was the performance really. I played on PC, on an i7 and 3080, and found that it did not run smoothly at all. Lots of framerate jumping all over, good bit of just lagging. There were no gfx/performance options - the extent was a quality preset and resolution. It didnt ruin my experience or anything, but it is something to be aware of going in. They can hopefully patch that if they so wish, but I dont think it ruins the game experience really. It is primarily about the writing and the puzzles, neither of which are hampered by this.
All in all, I thought it was very good! Worth a look at, at the very least. Unsure about console, but it has a demo on steam which will give a good idea of what to expect. Would recommend!
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7-oh-ta1 · 2 years
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So I've never really talked about why season 4 is my least favorite TWD game, but I'm hoping I can sum up my thoughts tastefully though tbh I get a little spiteful at the end because I am adhfhgk
First things first, I don't hate the game, it's just that it's on the bottom of my list compared to the others. Narratively it's pretty heavy-handed with the "Walkers are still people" idea which isn't a bad idea to explore but it feels out of place or not fully realized. The best example is in the very beginning with the Walker couple in the train station. AJ suggests we kill them for the key, then Clementine tells him "but they used to be people. And as people, they asked to be left alone". Personally, I feel like the note and their hands tied together were enough to get that idea across but they felt the need to have Clementine explicitly speak the other side of the argument just to highlight their point. It wasn't needed, and this happens all the time throughout the game.
Even more frustrating is that Clementine has a set personality in s4 regardless of what your Clementine was like in ANF because ANF is was completely discarded by the narrative. Yet even my s2 Clementine would've killed the Walker couple, but all of a sudden she feels extreme empathy for them. Maybe if you're playing a soft Clementine, sure. But the hardened badass of s3 wouldn't have said that.
If you choose not to kill them, then yes by all means she could say that to explain her reasoning to AJ. But by saying before the decision it makes it seem like killing Walkers is against my Clementine's morals -- which it's not.
And therein lies the issue I take with s4. Unlike the other seasons, where you could do arguably cruel things but still feel justified (lying to Hershel & Shawn, protecting Duck instead of Shawn, saving Doug/Carley over the other, killing the St. Johns, stealing from the car, leaving Lilly, pushing Omid, threatening Vernon, killing Ben, the list goes on--) but in s4, if you're not a complete pacifist the narrative itself beats you over the head with "but what if you were nicer? Hm? Bet you feel like shit. You made AJ a monster because you didn't say thank you when someone held a door open for you." And it's like... no?? What?? Idk why Clementine is acting this way bec I certainly don't feel bad for the choices I made.
James is one thing, he's just one character, and I respect him for standing by his ideals even though I don't agree with them. But it feels like the game was written and coded by James. No one else has different opinions than him or contest him, no one agrees with Clem that sometimes you have to kill people to protect yourself, and the entire story is written saying that his ideals are right. I feel like the conversation was so nuanced in s1 & in s3, a bit in s2, but in s4 it just says, "this is right, this is wrong, and if you choose what we as the writers disagree with then we're going to make Clementine feel like shit" so I feel like my choices didn't even shape the narrative. I was wrong, that was that, and I'd need to play again to see the "good" end.
Aside from the narrative itself, I also did not get incredibly attached to the Ericson cast (Aasim was cool af but got put in a cupboard for the majority of the game & Mitch the Bitch was also cool but he died randomly) so when Clementine was kicked out I was like ... okay, I don't really care. I only feel bad for AJ cause he seemed to like it but personally I wasn't gonna miss it. Then I have to go back and help these people?? Prove myself?? Huh? I don't even like y'all. 🤨 I hardly know you TO like you! I'm hitting the road good luck with the kidnappers.
The community of teenagers also gave me a young adult series vibe, I'm getting Hunger Games, I'm getting Divergent, I'm getting that one with the girl in a crystal ball on the cover, and I don't like any of those series. It feels like s4 was written about a teenager for teenagers, and I'm 21. Even s2, with a 11 y/o protagonist, felt like she was in a very dangerous adult world, s4's world is a teenager's world. S4 doesn't even feel like it's the same world as the previous seasons. The pieces are there, but the way the narrative uses those pieces is just so lackluster.
They also did the "is life precious or not?" thing that ANF did, but this time simplified it to the point that it was literally in the dialogue asking you. ANF handled that theme with grace and nuance, weaving it into the story subtly but still very much present. You weren't beat over the head with the idea, you were quietly influenced by the storytelling until the story beats where you must ask yourself, "Do I hold the authority to decide who lives and dies? Is it my place to decide that? And in the end, do my decisions make an impact? Do I hold the god-like power I think I do?"
Apparently most TWDG players don't read like. Actual books because it completely flew over their heads. I think that's why s4 DOES just outright ask you over and over and over if killing is right because obviously the main audience needed it in big bold letters. This frustrates me to no end because it killed whatever stock I had in the story. Especially when I complied with all James's requests to not hurt the Walkers, but after my walk in the barn I stood by my belief that Walkers are not people, so he suddenly went from being my best friend to hating me and spitting vemon at me??? I never want to hear anyone hate on Jane or Kenny again after that. He demands you be open minded to his beliefs, but he's not open minded to your's!! It's so hypocritical that it's baffling. That's when it all clicked for me. "Ohhhhhhh. This game has a very strong idea of what the right choice is, and if I choose differently I'm going to get a shit ending..."
And so I got a pretty ehhhhh ending!! Because fuck em, that's why! I partly choose to shoot Lilly not because I wanted to, but because it felt like they were trying to force me not to! I ended the game exactly how I started it: Ericson's is eh, okay. The cast has potential but is never fully realized. At least AJ is happy. And that's.... not the feeling you want when you finish a game series.
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yoomiii123 · 2 years
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Recollections - Chapter 2
Recollections is a collection of interconnected OneShots that span Jasper's life with Alice. They are in the same continuity, but can be read as stand-alones.
You can also find this fanfiction AO3 or FF.net.
Summary: After having met Alice in a stuffy diner, Jasper finds himself following the strange vampire and the intoxicating emotions she's displaying. However, he didn't expect that this would end with a bath and him getting his hair brushed for the first time in almost a century [Alice and Jasper's first meeting - Part 2: The Apartment.]
Timeline for this Chapter: This is part 2 of my version of Alice and Jasper's first meeting. Therefore, it takes place in Philadelphia in 1948, pre-twilight.
Word Count for this Chapter: 3'012
Trigger Warnings: none
Rating: PG
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October 28, 1948 - Philadelphia, PA | Part 2.
‘I can’t see you running away anymore.’ I couldn’t comprehend why I believed her. Nor why I followed her to the small apartment she had rented. It was all too much, having someone tell me about a future I had never planned nor even imagined. And her overwhelming emotions weren’t helping me process all of this either. They still intoxicated me, dulled my thoughts, and made me just want to be in her presence.
“We can wait the storm out here. Things should calm down by nightfall,” she explained, picking the gloves from her hands, and putting them down on the dresser next to the door.
I kicked my dirty boots off by the entrance, not wanting to stain the expensive-looking carpet. It wasn’t a big space, a small corner kitchen, a bed, and a sitting area with two armchairs and an antique-looking couch table. A single door led into another room.
“I thought that you might want to take a shower? It’s been a while since you had the opportunity to wash.”
I looked at her in confusion. How does she know? And what the hell is a ‘shower’? She couldn’t have meant a shower of rain, as she wasn’t gesturing towards the entrance but instead the door leading to another room.
“I’m not sure I understand,” I admitted.
“Ah, silly me. I sometimes get ahead of myself. It’s not easy to live in multiple decades at once. A shower is this new thing that’s going to get really big soon. It’s basically taking a bath but standing up,” she explained. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Without hesitation, she pulled open the door to the adjacent room. I was surprised to find a fully furnished bathroom. Alice immediately headed for the bathtub that had been pushed towards the back wall. There was a second tap attached to the wall as well, hovering multiple feet above the tub. I jumped when a jet of water suddenly started to spurt from it.
Alice laughed. It was a wonderful sound, like a dozen silver bells ringing simultaneously.
I ducked my head, embarrassed by the reaction. But this whole situation was just so strange, so unfamiliar, it made me tense. Only the endless affection that she emitted every time she looked at me, soothed my nerves slightly.
“There’s going to be so many new inventions for you to discover. But I’ll leave you to it now. If you need anything, just call out. I’ll be right outside the door.” And with these words, she disappeared and closed the door behind her.
Finally alone, I allowed myself to take a breath. She wasn’t wrong, it had been months since I last waded through a river. And one couldn’t really call that ‘washing’ either. It would probably feel nice to be clean again. Especially in her presence. But to some extent, I had gotten used to the dirt. It was like a thin suit of armour, shielding me from the outside. Hiding my battle scars from prying eyes. On the other hand, there was this huge cloud of excitement and anticipation floating just outside the bathroom door. It felt wrong to disappoint her.
Slowly, I stripped out of the layers of stolen clothing that had accumulated over the last months and stepped into the bath. The water was warm, an unexpected but very welcome surprise. I couldn’t remember when I had last had something close to a hot bath.
Standing up felt strange, so I settled down in the tub, right next to a neat line of different flasks that had been arranged on the tub’s rim. However, I couldn’t find a single bar of soap. Eying each of the containers sceptically, I eventually found one labelled ‘liquid soap’ behind multiple bottles containing something called ‘shampoo’. Bubbles accumulated as I poured some of it into my hands and rubbed them together. Whatever special new type of soap it was, at least it behaved somewhat like the product I used to know. And it did its job of removing most of the dirt from my body. Unfortunately, my hair was an entirely different story.
I had owned a comb back in my Confederate days. A going-away gift from my mother. It survived the human war but was quickly lost after my transformation. Broken by the incomparable strength of a newborn vampire. Peter had loaned me his a few years back when I still travelled with them. But by then some of the strands had already been so hopelessly tangled that I’d given up immediately. I didn’t have better luck now, standing in front of the small bathroom mirror, towel around my hips, trying to separate them with my fingers. Cutting it off would probably be the most practical avenue now. I would ask Alice for scissors later.
I had only just turned from the mirror when a loud protest suddenly resounded from the other room. “No!”
Alice entered the bathroom without warning, taking me by surprise. I instinctively snarled at the intruder, ready to jump and dismember her.
Regret flooded her tiny body and as she defensively raised her hands, I slowly relaxed. She was no danger to me, even if she wanted to. She probably couldn’t even properly reach my neck.
“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, her eyes fixated on my bare chest. I clenched my jaw, readying myself for the alarm and disgust I was used to sensing at the sight of my scarred skin. But there was nothing but pure delight and affection from her. It was worse.
I turned away from her. There was no escaping her emotions but at least I wouldn’t have to bear the fondness in her gaze anymore.
My behaviour hurt her. I could feel the sting. “So sorry, I didn’t want to startle you. But I had a vision and… Please, do not cut your hair. Let me help, I’m sure we can fix it.”
I didn’t react to her demand. I still couldn’t understand why she cared. Her feelings were indisputable; she was in love with me. Some future version of me. But whoever that man, deserving of her love, was, it wasn’t me.
“There’s something fresh to wear for you on the washstand.”
I couldn’t stand the resignation in her voice. And despite it having been years since I last tried to soothe someone’s emotions, I carefully reached out to hers to lessen her grief. The door closed again without me knowing if it had worked.
xxxx
Despite her having pointed it out earlier, I was surprised to find fresh underwear and socks, brown trousers, and a tan shirt on the washstand. The amazement only grew, when I put them on finding that everything fit perfectly. That gift of hers truly was something.
I gathered my discarded clothes from the floor, folding them as neatly as possible without getting the new ensemble dirty. Alice immediately picked them from my hands when I returned to the other room, carelessly throwing them into the trash can next to the kitchen aisle. There was so much determination in her action that I didn’t dare to interfere. One look at her content face and I was disarmed. By such a tiny woman. This is laughable. What am I even doing here?
“I hope your shower was nice?” she asked, disappearing into the bathroom.
Unsure whether she wanted me to follow her, I buried my hands in the pockets of my new trousers. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Such a gentleman,” she purred, re-appearing in the doorway. “And the clothes fit?”
I nodded, evoking a content sigh from her.
“I’m glad my eye measurements are getting better. I’ve been training them.”
I had no idea what to reply to that. But I didn’t have to say anything at all. Alice seemed to have this all planned out already, gesturing towards one of the armchairs, a brush in hand. “May I help with your hair now?”
Pure anticipation and joy hit me as she spoke, making it impossible to refuse her. I wondered if she had already seen the outcome of this discussion, as I turned to the sitting area. Before I could even take a proper step towards it, Alice sped past me, taking a seat in one of the armchairs. The corners of my mouth twitched. How long has she waited for this to happen?
Slowly and with one eye always trained on her, I lowered myself to the floor. Alice had arranged herself in a cross-legged position, waiting with eager fingers for my head to get close enough that she could get to work. I couldn’t remember anyone ever being this eager to be so close to me.
Her face eventually disappeared behind the back of my head. But I didn’t need to see her to know how content she was with the turn of events. Still, I was careful to pull one of my legs in close enough that it would be easy to get away, should her hands wander too far around my neck.
My apprehensiveness soon dissipated. Alice’s emotions quickly had me encompassed in a cloud of joy and warmth as she gently separated the tangled strands of my hair. Pure euphoria ran through my veins, whenever her fingers accidentally brushed against my scalp or forehead. The darkness of the past decades never seemed farther away, and I felt myself closer to the blissful trance that I imagined heaven to be than should ever have been possible for a damned creature like me.
I couldn’t tell for how long we had been sitting in silence when the sunlight broke through the clouds outside, illuminating the room and reflecting in fine crystals off our skin.
Alice sighed contently. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your hair is in the sunlight? It’s like rich honey, almost golden.”
Her fingers gently ran through a few strands on the left side of my head. I couldn’t believe that they passed through without being stopped. She had truly been able to separate the mess. At least a few strands of it.
“My mother did,” I replied. She had always loved my hair, wishing that her daughter would have inherited her father’s blonde as well, rather than her own muddy brown.
Regret suddenly stained Alice’s perfectly positive emotional compass as she sighed again. “I can’t remember my human life.”
“Mine grows hazier by the year too,” I tried to console her. Somehow, I couldn’t stand to feel such sorrow from her.
“That’s not how I meant it. I cannot remember anything of my human life. I never could. When I woke from the transformation, I had no recollections at all. I didn’t even know my name… Until you told me.” The regret slowly disappeared, being replaced with a rejuvenating burst of affection.
I wanted to remind her that it couldn’t have been me but then spotted the corner of her drawing sticking out from the coat hanging over the backrest of the other chair. She was talking about a vision. I reached out and, as Alice let go of my hair for a moment, closed my fingers around the paper. She didn’t react to what I was doing, immediately returning to her task as soon as my head was back within her reach.
“How long have you been seeing me?” I asked, examining her rendition of a future me again, unable to believe that the scene was truly ever going to happen. And in less than a decade, she said!
“You were the first person I saw, immediately after my transformation. That was in the Spring of 1920.”
1920, I mused. She had waited 28 years to find me. “Why didn’t you come looking for me earlier?”
“I thought about it,” Alice admitted, her fingers pausing. “But every time I made up my mind, our future disappeared. I couldn’t risk that.”
My eyes returned to the drawing as she continued reminiscing. “There were a few times where I almost did…”
Her sudden anguish met me with full force. I winced and turned around, but her eyes were closed.
“I’ve seen you die so many times…,” she whispered.
Although her pain hurt me as well and I wanted nothing more than to make it go away, I couldn’t. I was too stunned by the insanity of the situation. She, a person I had only met a few hours ago, mourned the possibility of my death with such force that she easily outshined Maria in her best days. Even Peter, who I considered my closest friend, didn’t compare.
Alice opened her eyes again and smiled at me. Her torment disappeared as quickly as it had shown up. Her hands reached out and gently turned my head away from her, so she could continue her work.
It took me a few seconds longer to compose myself. But once I did, I returned to examining the drawing in my hands.
“Who are they?” I finally asked.
A new wave of her affection washed over us. Not romantic love, but the care one experienced for family. I barely remembered it from my human days.
“The Cullens,” she said. “When I first saw them, it was just Carlisle and Edward. Carlisle is the oldest one, he considers himself the father of their family.” She pointed at a fair-haired man in the middle of the picture.
I raised an eyebrow. “You mean he’s the leader of the coven?”
“They consider themselves to be more of a family than just a coven,” she explained.
I filed her remark away under inexperience. She probably hadn’t seen too many covens yet. Or she would know that our kind couldn’t live together without a strong leader. Especially not in such a large group.
“Carlisle is married to Esme, the one on his right. She joined them shortly after I first saw them. Edward’s the one next to her.”
I followed the faces she was pointing out. They all seemed happy in her rendition, smiling at the camera, arms wrapped around each other. I could have been fooled into believing that it was a family picture if I hadn’t known they were vampires.
“Rosalie was the next one Carlisle turned. That was in 1933. Beside her is her husband, Emmett. Carlisle turned him just over a decade ago, in ‘35. I haven’t gotten around to finishing him yet but there should be another drawing of him around here somewhere if you want to see it.”
“That’s not necessary,” I said. Her sketch was enough to make out that this Emmett was a bear of a man. Taller than me, if the drawing was to scale, and at least one-and-a-half times as wide.
“You are really going to like him. I’ve seen you two cooking up all sorts of shenanigans. Plus, Emmett really likes to brawl. He hasn’t won against you so far though.” Alice chuckled.
I gently shook my head and carefully re-folded the paper. This was crazy. Me, cooking up shenanigans. Fighting for fun. She must have gone insane from being alone for too long. And despite how healing her presence is for me, I shouldn’t entertain her fantasies any longer. It’s time to go.
Alice's fingers froze and when I turned to her, there was a blank expression on her face. She didn’t react to me getting up and returning her drawing either. Only when I walked over to the trashcan to look for my coat, her eyes finally blinked, and she jumped from her spot.
“You’re leaving. Why do I see you leaving?! You can’t leave!” Her voice was alarmed, and her emotions were quickly overtaken by sadness and frustration.
I tried to calm her down, but my talent betrayed me. I couldn’t get a grasp on her feelings.
“Where are you even going to go? Back to Maria?! She’ll kill you. And if she doesn’t do it herself, one of the newborns will! You’ll refuse to feed and then your hunger will mess with your brain and…” A tearless sob cut her off. “Can’t you see that I am trying to help you?”
I was frozen by her sorrow, unable to walk out the door. “No one can help me.”
“I can. Carlisle can. I’ve seen it. You just have to trust me, Jasper,” she pleaded. I had never imagined that a body as tiny as hers would have been able to emit such earth-shattering despair.
I’m hurting her, I suddenly realised. I was hurting that perfect little creature that had brought me nothing but relief from my depression since the moment I met her. “Alice…,” I started, unable to finish the sentence.
“No, you listen to me,” she said, stepping up to me. She had to bend her head back considerably to look up to me. But there was determination on her face. “I’ve waited too long to just let you go. You’re hurting. You’ve been hurting for years. But you don’t have to, Jasper. You don’t have to be that person you hate anymore. You don’t have to kill humans just to survive.”
“We’re vampires. That’s what we do,” I scoffed.
“Not all of us. Carlisle doesn’t. Esme doesn’t. Edward doesn’t. Rose and Emmett don’t. I haven’t—well, except for the occasional slip-up. I know you’ve wondered about the eyes. It’s animal blood, Jazz. Animal blood turns our eyes golden. And it has been sustaining me for the last 28 years.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Animal blood? That was crazy. Even crazier than her story of vampires living as a family. But she believed every word she said with her whole heart. And her eyes… I swayed and caught myself at the wall next to me. “Living off animal blood. Can such a thing really be possible?”
“It is,” Alice replied to my thoughts which I had unintentionally spoken aloud. “I can show you, if you let me.”
There it was again. The hope she had gifted me before. And this time I was one hundred percent positive that it wasn’t coming just from her.
I nodded slowly. “Show me.”
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Journal 3- Stream of Consciousness Writing
2/17
Yesterday. All my troubles seemed so far awayyyy. Now it seems as though they’re here to stay. Oh I believe in yesterday.
I don’t actually think that statement is very true, I just needed something to write because writing for 15 minutes is a little bit intimidating. My stress was actually a bit high yesterday in regards to the many assignments I must do and the accelerated timeline I have to do it in. Nevertheless, the things I am going to do are quite enjoyable. Yesterday I was reminded of my folks who moved from Illinois to Minnesota when Motley was poking fun at people who live in the freezing North and describing Wisconsin-ers and Maine natives. Yesterday I discussed movies, how to tell stories, and the way that they’re better told from multiple perspectives. I sat with JaRiah and Molly to pitch our own narrative. And then in between classes I sat outside with Sequoia, Courtney and John and it was beautiful outside. The dramatic fluctuation in weather these days is getting everyone sick. At least it’s better than negative temperatures in the Midwest. Yesterday I learned about keyword searches, crawling and indexing in Dr. Xu’s class. I decided what key words may be best for the entertainment page related to the interactive media program. “Is Elon University a party school?” is a top hit. Yesterday I reached out to Jeffrey Scheible who works in athletic compliance at Elon because I want to further my Title IX expertise and the impact it has on dance teams. I was almost the compliance assistant at Elon many yesterdays ago. Sometimes I dwell on the concept of yesterdays. How if we had to pick one thing we should probably avoid yesterdays and pick todays. I’m not actually very good at being ultimately present and living for the moment. I also think that a creative field like interactive media allows us to relive the yesterdays when maybe we need it the most. If you could choose to forget yesterday and start over everyday, would you?
2/18
Today I slept in until noon! And then I made myself toast and coffee. I am running out of the spices I put in my coffee so I need to buy some more. The spice blend is called “mello yello,” it’s ashwagandha, turmeric, lucuma, black pepper and maybe some others I’m forgetting at the moment. After that I washed the dishes, went on a walk, and the sun was shining. I sat by Lake Mary Nell and the ducks got very cozy which always makes me nervous. I could hear the music playing from the softball and baseball fields, and the sound of names being announced in the stadiums. I loved imagining people being caught up in the excitement of being a fan. It’s like your own world of big love. There was a couple who let their dog swim in the lake which I was curious about because I don’t believe the lake is very clean. Everyone say a prayer for Mr. Dog. After my walk today I went to Target which was SUPER busy. The returns line took forever. But that’s okay, I really didn’t have much to do today. I got some bone broth from Target because it’s supposed to be kick ass for your gut in the morning. Sign me up. After I navigated out of the semi-treacherous Target parking lot, a bunch of us cars got stuck behind another threat… a biker. We drove a nice 15 miles per hour with no way around the biker on a two lane road. Finally the brave man decided to turn left… and we hit a red light. But again, it was really okay: I didn’t have much to do today. I finally made it home, unpacked my groceries and started on some homework. I finished up personas for my capstone project. One is representative of a dance team member and another of a dance team parental figure. I edited the interview questions for my capstone project as well. And now here I am writing in my journal about today. 
2/19
Tomorrow. Everyone knows about the “Sunday Scaries” phenomenon. That may be the biggest shared anxiety about tomorrows that there ever was. I am not so much feeling the Sunday Scaries right now as I am a bit stressed about the things that I have to get done today. I think right now I am going to decide to completely flip my thinking. I am going to decide that time is a construct, and I am going to decide not to be stressed but instead to focus on being excited about creating my storyboard for my film concept. In the end it’s going to look super cool and it’s better than taking an exam or sitting in traffic. All I really have to do before tomorrow is finish this journal and my storyboard. I am looking forward to this week. It should be a successful week full of opportunity, and tomorrow is the springboard because it’s Monday. Infamous Mondays. Poor, victimized, Mondays. Everybody hates them. This week I’ll enjoy my Monday and accomplish good things. For me, Mondays are reserved for one class and a work meeting but can be filled with other projects, meetings, movies, television shows, workout classes, or phone calls. Tomorrow will be a great day.
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klainesheilen · 1 year
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04.01.2023
Updates on my life and my tumblr blog
Hey besties,
I hope everyone had a great start into 2023. I want to get right to the point of this post: I created this blog to use tumblr as an active member (meaning to actively post stuff instead of only reblogging it like on my main blog). My goal was to focus on my English skills, motivate myself to study and share with the internet my progress of healing. Weeeeeeell *Gen z move of putting my own hair behind my ear*. I'm getting chaotic with what I post. First I thought that's bad because I need a theme / an aesthetic to stick to, but then I realized that this is my blog and I do this for myself (and that this here is tumblr dot com where we don't function like other social media sides/apps) so I will keep on doing whatever I'm doing right now.
Still, one thing that I would like to change or to do more often are these longer post. I'm lazy, I'm always telling myself I don't have time to sit down and write anything to post but then I'm scrooling mindless on tiktok or watching youtube videos so I don't have to hear my own thoughts. I want to get more into book review writing so it seems that one goal of 2023 will be to post every once in a while a more serious book review on here. I ducking reorganized my reading notion page so I ducking hope that I will use it now. Another thing I really want to do is getting back into making art more regularly (and then also posting it?). I loved drawing and art and then I thought it would be a career thing, but it turned out to only burn me out so I dopped that and since then I barely enjoy doing art. I'm still in this mindset of comparing my work with others, of judging my WIP before it's even finished and so I want to change it into doing art for myself even if it's "bad art". Sure this won't happen over night or by saying "I'm doing this just for me", but I still hope that something will change at the end of the year with my thoughts.
K, guess that's everything about my tumblr update. So here comes a life update:
Nothing really chnaged. lol. Still going to university, working part time as a barista, being in a relationship. But there are thoughts and realizations on some topics. Lets start strong with university. I enjoy some of my lectures and some drain the shit out of me. Sometimes I think to drop out, because I can't imagen actually getting a job with this dagree so why continueing with all the stress and money investment? But at the same time I enjoy the experiencec, I enjoy my lectures, the discussions, the studying. Is it stressful? Yes. But in a paralel unniversum I'm already working a job that as well is stressful sooooo is the problem really university itself or how I stress myself over the thiniest things because my anxiety forces me to do so? Then I think "I can finish university and if I don't get a job with this dagree I do just a job to finance living" and then I'm again like "But then why not skip the unversity part and go right to working?" and everything is followed with a "But what will _____ think/say when they here that of me?". In all I can say it doesn't matter what I'm doing or what I plan to do I will always be unhappy and wondering "What if...?". To solve this I should go to therapy. Yea, it's easier to say than to do. I'm telling myself for so long to call the numbers that hang on my wall and I still haven't done it. I gave myself a deadline by last Monday and here I'm with no calls. At this point I really think I self-sabotage myself, because it's better to stay where I'm in my messy chaotic comfort zone instead of working on myself. But. but. BUT! I see progress in myself which is mostly linked with my boyfriend. Just last week we both pointed out that I've made great progress in communicating my feeling and thought and stuff. It began with him pointing stuff out and just then I talked with him about this situation/feeling/thought. But slowly, really really slowly, I'm able to point stuff out by myself without him starting the conversation on a topic. Most of the time I still tell myself "He doesn't need to know this, I'm probably overreacting anyway"/"If I tell him this we only start to fight (because that is what happend in earlier relationships most of the time)" you know stuff like that. So yea, I'm still (take a shot every time you read still in this post) working on my cmmunication skills but I've also got better. That isn't the only thing that changed. My mindset starts to changing as well. From "I'm a failure" "I have to be nice to them because what if they don't like me?" "What if they don't agree with my opinion?" etc to "This doesn't define who I am" and "I don't even like them so who cares" "I can have my own thoughts on stuff"etc. Sure, there a still huge backlashes, but as I said slowly making progress.
I think that's it. Sending love to you bestie <3
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