#charis grade

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: Calleis (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nicknames- Sweetie by her brother

Calli by her mother

Age- 10 (immortal)

Location- Chant du Cygne neighborhood, New Olympus

Personality- She's confident, bubbly, & unapologetically brash and bossy. She lives & breathes all things fashion and beauty. She can also be a bit full of herself as well as manipulative.

She has the standard abilities of a goddess except shapeshifting. As the goddess of allurement her other powers/abilities are limited beauty inducement (as it pertains to other objects) and limited cosmetic manipulation.

Calleis lives with her mother Charis (goddess of charm) in their gorgeous condo in the Chant du Cygne neighborhood of New Olympus. She has an older brother Hedylogos (god of sweet talk & flattery) that lives thirty minutes away. Her bedroom is the epitome of all things girly- various shades of pink, marble accents on the walls, sophisticated lighting fixtures, & a velvet couch for friends to sit on. Calleis' favorite part of her room is her closet which holds all her stylish clothes, shoes, and accessories. Mounted marble shelves on the walls hold her jewelry, hair accessories & products, her vast nail polish collection, and her glamour doll collectibles.

Her all time favorite drink is the bubblegum milkshake from The Frozen Spoon. She always gets the olympian size. She also likes fruit punch, iced tea, cherry cola, & sparkling water. Her usuals from The Roasted Bean are the small caramel frappuccino and the medium cranberry cherry splash. Her mom even allowed her a small sip of champagne at home once!

She's always seen chewing a big wad of bubblegum, her favorite flavor being watermelon.

Calleis loves her "Bubba" Hedylogos. He comes over some weekends to stay over & she loves the chance they get to hang out. They'll post videos of themselves doing silly dance challenges on Fatestagram, go to the movies, or visit the Mall of Olympius for some serious shopping! She's well aware of her inherit charm & uses it to her advantage, batting her eyelashes on her brother before he caves and buys her whatever she wants- whether it's new clothes, a glamour doll, or some makeup! There was a time when Calleis used to be jealous of her brother because of his wings.

She has a great relationship with her mom. Calleis likes the freedom her mom allows her to experiment with her style, hair, and makeup. One bonding moment for them is their shopping trips at the mall while another is them in their living room eating hot fudge sundaes while they watch trashy reality TV shows!

She usually eats a bowl of choco crunch cereal in the mornings for breakfast. Sometimes she'll eat a stack of chocolate chip pancakes drizzled in hot fudge sauce while other times she'll get a bacon, sausage, egg, & cheese sandwich from The Bread Box. She doesn't mind that her mom doesn't cook.

Calleis attends a private school in the city. She likes to think of herself as "the IT girl" in her grade. In addition to being friends with other students, she's also friends with some godly kids like Aidos (goddess of shame, modesty, humility, & respect), Melete (goddess of thought & meditation), Ersa (goddess of morning dew), and Eulabeia (Eula) (goddess of caution). It's well known that she prefers gossping than actually doing classwork. Calleis is the go-to for the other girls (and some boys) when it comes to juicy gossip! She even sneaks in various copies of Kytheiria magazine in her bookbag, reselling them for two drachmas each. As for her immediate friend group Calleis appreciates the strengths in all her besties- Aidos is comforting, Melete is wickedly talented & a great karaoke partner, Ersa's funny, and Eula is smart. With some lessons in confidence & a whole new wardrobe, Calleis thinks that Eula can be an "IT girl" too.

A favorite snack of hers are spicy barbeque cheese puffs!

For Christmas, Hedylogos gifted her a pair of pink bejeweled headphones!

Her all time favorite dessert from Hollyhock's Bakery are the double chocolate caramel espresso cookies.

Calleis once bejeweled a pair of sneakers using the bedazzler Eula got her for her birthday.

A guilty pleasure for her are chicken teriyaki sushi-style rolls! Calleis tried them for the first time when her mom took her & some friends to a sushi bar in the Tsunami neighborhood after karaoke. She's been hooked on them ever since!

She's the only one in her friend group (aside from Ersa and Melete) to own a smartphone. Her mom got it for her as a gift to celebrate her good grades on her report card. Calleis remembers the two of them going to the mall where she bought a beautiful pink jeweled phone case from Aglaia's kiosk with the money she saved up!

In the pantheon Calleis is a HUGE fan of Aphrodite (goddess of love & beauty). She treats the Kytheiria magazine like it's a sacred text, has most of her glamour doll collectibles (including the very recent "Of Seafoam" one), & even has a pair of the iconic hot pink heart shaped sunglasses from La Petit Amour. When the time comes she wants THE beauty goddess to be her mentor, even praying nightly to the goddess Gaia to make her wish a reality. Calleis likes other deities like Móda (goddess of fashion), Philyra (goddess of perfume, paper, & beauty), The Graces, Pheme (goddess of fame), and Iris (goddess of the rainbow); loves her brand of temporary hair dye spray. She also has crushes on Apollo & Hermes!

She hopes to get her first kiss at an official boy/girl party she's been invited to, hosted by the young god Thrasos.

As a birthday gift Melete gave her a jeweled Diamond Ave. pillbox clutch in the shape of a nail polish bottle!

One time afterschool Calleis and Ersa went to the cinema where they snuck in & saw an R-rated movie for the first time. They laughed and blushed at the sex scenes!

Aidos gave her the lipstick shaped jeweled clutch for Christmas.

Her all time favorite meal is the barbeque pulled pork pizza.

In her free time Calleis enjoys hanging out with friends, listening to music, karaoke, lanyard, jump rope, getting her hair done, shopping, going to the movies, spending time with her family, & shopping.

"It's not my fault I'm beautiful."

[danvilleareacc]

DACC Lists Fall President's & Honors Students

Danville Area Community College has released a list of its honor students for the Fall 2022 Semester.   A student must carry 12 or more credit hours and a straight A (4.0) average on a 4.0 scale to be included on the President’s List. To be included on the Honors List, a student must carry 12 or more credit hours and have a B+ (3.5) grade point average on a 4.0 scale.

Danville Area Community College Fall 2022 President’s & Honors Lists

Danville Area Community College PRESIDENT’S LIST – FALL 2022

Alvin, IL

Nicholas Garmon.

Armstrong, IL

Olivia Logue.

Bismarck, IL

Allison Bostwick, Ryan Bostwick, Dianne Trimble.

Bloomington, IL

Brennon Reed.

Catlin, IL

Jaiden Baum, Holden Dunavan, Joseph Kedas, Kylee Pate, Rebecca Rogers, Monica Vasquez.

Chicago, IL

Lauren Crawley.

Chrisman, IL

Lindsey Franz.

Covington, IN

Alyssa Cheuvront, Margo Galloway, Hailynn Herzog, Briley Peyton, Alexandra VanVickle.

Danville, IL

Noah Acree, Wariya Alhassan, Gracie Arnett, Amber Atkinson, Xitlally Bonilla, Jasmine Brown, Ne'Kedra Cain, Devontay Carpenter, Rowan Clawson, Jeremiah Cooper, Isabella Courson, Brandon Cox, Mariela Cruz, Debra Cummings, Joel Cundiff, Olivia Edgington, Robin Farr, Brenda Fisher, Nicholas Fuentes, Teagyn Goodwin, Meghan Gross, Logan Hall, Marlee Harper, Jadyn Hess, Lindsey Janssen, Tamara Jimson, Josephine Kamwela, Christopher La Combe, Trenton Lewis, Layla Martinez, Kalia Mason, Ashlynn Pinnick, Ethan Rayburn, Chelsea Reeves, Kearby Robinson, Vivianna Ruffo, Veronica Sasseen, Yoo Bin Seo, Maxeen Smart, Shania Smith, Maria Sobany Bosch, Frederick Soderstrom, Elmonia Taylor, Lewis Towne, Kayce Wagle, Charlene Walsh, Grace Ward, Donald Wills, Mia Yant.

East Lynn, IL

Abigail Walder.

Evansville, IN

Matthew Bunnell.

Fithian, IL

Codey McMahon.

Georgetown, IL

Jacob Maskel, Hunter Way.

Hillsboro, IN

Lauren Highland.

Hoopeston, IL

Charis Allen, Tori Birge, Gage Hopkins, Morgan Keith, Skyler Morgan.

Mahomet, IL

Ahmad Al-Heeti.

Marine, IL

Alixandria Grenzebach.

Milford, IL

Abigail White.

Mooresville, IN

Blake Nigg.

Muncie, IL

Dominyq Gritten.

Oakwood, IL

Madison Doan, Jarron Fleming, Natalie Garrison, Raiden Jackson, Kimberly Montgomery, Tannar Pouilliard, Carlie Reitz.

Osgood, IN

Elizabeth Pavy.

Paris, IL

Drew Pinkston.

Philo, IL

Kyleigh Weller.

Potomac, IL

Destiny Fitzsimmons, Violet McCool, Mason McMasters, Seth Pollitt.

Ridge Farm, IL

Matthew Coleman.

Rossville, IL

Heidi Goble, Morgan Miller, Abigail Ryan.

Troy, IL

Caleb Durbin.

Tuscola, IL

Alexis Koester.

Westville, IL

Laney Crawford, Jack Duensing, McKenzie Meinders, Joshua Miller, Emma Myers, Zachary Troxel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danville Area Community College HONORS LIST – FALL 2022

Armstrong, IL

Justin Wilken.

Bismarck, IL

Trenton Spicer.

Catlin, IL

Naomi Dolan, Emily Fier, Lillie Hannan, Macallister Hill, Autumn Lange, Grace Niedzwiecki.

Champaign, IL

Lilian Eziefule.

Charleston, IL

Ashlynn McPeak.

Columbus, OH

Brianna Hamilton.

Covington, IN

Jacob Eells, Hannah Hunter, Calvin Springer, Katie Woodrow.

Danville, IL

Nora Abdelghani, Joan Applegate, Michele Budnovich, Anna Carrion, Christine Daniel, Benjamin Dickerson, Ian Dukes, Jayla Greer, Chelsey Haga, Dalton Hagley, Diego Hightower, Aryanna Huckstadt, Lexi Hudson, Matteo Janzen, Ginaveve Jessup, William Landis, Chayton Lawrence, Lezlea Lowe, Julieanna Morse, Amanda Nelson, Candela Nevares Garcia, Aaron Olmstead, Destiny Parker, Lilliana Perez, Tah'yah Rose, Ruth Salazar, Woodley Scholz, Andrew Sentelle, Sebastian Skinner, Braeden Skoog, Jennifer Stovall, Dylan Taylor, Rylie Terrell, Kendra Tucker, Cassie Warren, Zoe Wilson, Ella Wolfe, Jacob Xiong.

Evansville, IN

Ryan Caddell, Adam Evans.

Fairmount, IL

Aaron Dean.

Findlay, IL

Dirk Bruyn.

Fithian, IL

Reed Sperry.

Georgetown, IL

Brooke Robertson, LaVonte Taylor, Madison Wilson.

Hoopeston, IL

Maria Alvarado, Vanessa Blackburn, Ashley Cadle, Marissa Garcia, Brady Woods.

Indianaola, IL

Lacee Darr.

Ingersoll, Canada

Lucus Forbes.

Kingman, IN

Lydia Van Huysen.

Liberty Township, OH

Keiara Gregory.

Mattoon, IL

Raven Morrison.

Mentone, IN

Owen Kirchenstien.

Milford, IL

Craig VanHoveln.

New Market, IN

Samuel Endicott.

Oakwood, IL

Lane Bensyl, Gaven Clouse, Koby Fletcher, Travis Goodner, Hayley Mascari, Katherine Reffett, Charles Rieches, Isaiah Ruch, William Sandusky, Brevin Wells.

Potomac, IL

Casey Grant, Leanne Rogers.

Quincy, IL

Luke Mettemeyer.

Richland, IN

Jackson Raaf.

Ridge Farm, IL

Savannah Davis, Gentry Howard.

Rossville, IL

Madalyn Goble, Hunter Howe, Sabrina Koenig.

Sheldon, IL

Julia Bushnell.

Sidell, IL

Madison Farrell.

St. Joseph, IL

Kelsey Martlage.

Tampa, FL

Briana Hernandez.

Westville, IL

Jason Cotten, Gage Lange, Christopher Miller, McKenzie Montgerard, Douglas Reffett.

Wheaton, IL

Ian Johnson.

Williamsport, IN

Ethan Hickman.

[ninaelhino]

CAP. 15 CONVERSA SÉRIA

Madiha e Chari chegaram em casa depois de passarem a tarde no centro comunitário. Yazan as aguardava, com o semblante carregado... estava preocupado, afinal eles não estavam seguros e ele sabia disso.

"Amor, filha! Ainda bem que chegaram! Já estava ficando preocupado!", disse Yazan um pouco aflito. "Calma, pai. Nós estávamos em um workshop em Newcrest, só isso...", Chari diz, achando aquele comportamento meio estranho. "Filha, aproveitando que já estamos reunidos aqui, sua mãe e eu precisamos te contar uma coisa.", continuou Yazan.

"Como você já está crescida, posso explicar o porquê de mudarmos tanto.", começa Yazan. "Meu trabalho como juiz é por bandidos perigosos atrás das grades, custe o que custar. E isso tem consequências, principalmente se o juiz não se rende às chantagens ou aceita suborno, que é o meu caso.", ele continua. "Então, como medida de segurança, o departamento de Justiça está sempre transferindo seu pai para despistar aqueles que querem vingança.", completa Madiha.

"Ah! Então é por isso que nos mudamos tanto?", Chari exclama. "Sim, filha, e eu sei que isso não é fácil pra você, principalmente para fazer amizades...", diz Yazan. "O motivo pelo qual estamos te contando tudo isso é que dessa vez, existe uma ameaça real. E eu estou realmente preocupado, já fizeram inúmeras ameaças, contra mim e contra vocês...", diz ele, aflito. "Sua mãe e eu conversamos para decidirmos uma maneira de garantir o seu futuro e o de sua mãe, caso aconteça algo comigo.", completou ele. "Sim, e concordamos que seria uma ótima solução.", diz Madiha.

"Gostaria de saber o que acha de ser prometida a Chahriar em casamento?" perguntou Yazan. O coração de Chari quase parou ao ouvir aquilo! Mal sabia seu pai que Chari nutria uma paixão platônica por Chahriar há muito tempo! Tentou disfarçar a excitação o melhor que pode para que seu pai não percebesse... ainda bem que ela não ruborizava facilmente e a cor de sua pele escondia o vermelho de suas bochechas. "Me casar com Chahriar? O senhor acha mesmo que é uma boa ideia?", disse ela, tentando parecer desinteressada.

"Sim, filha, mas somente se algo acontecer ao seu pai, ou após você terminar a faculdade, se ainda estiver disposta a se casar com ele...", explicou Madiha. "Eu confio minha vida a Chahriar, e sei que ele cuidaria bem de você e sua mãe caso eu não esteja mais aqui...", disse Yazan. "Tudo bem, meu pai, eu aceito. Pois sei que você só quer o melhor pra mim...", concordou Chari, tentando se controlar.

"Estamos acertados então. Vou comunicar Chahriar e marcar um encontro entre vocês para saber se estão realmente de acordo.", concluiu Yazan. "Ai, filha, achei que você se oporia à ideia por Chahriar ser mais velho que você, fico contente que resolveu aceitar.", Madiha parecia aliviada, não queria que sua filha fizesse algo somente para agradá-los, mas devido às circunstâncias ela ficou grata. "Imagina, ammi! Eu também preciso pensar no que é melhor para vocês, não posso pensar só em mim...", disse Chari, sorrindo discretamente, mas explodindo de felicidade por dentro.

ReShade preset Saule @intravertt

Poses @madebycoffee, @sim-plyreality

Previous / Beginning / Next

[honeyandbloodpoetry]

Abuse and Gender Expression - Gender Thoughts Part Three

Huuuuuge trigger warnings for peer abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse, religious abuse, a murder attempt and mentions of self harm, suicidal ideation and an eating disorder. 18+ talk of sexual activity also included. Discretion advised!

.

I feel like the first time I realized I needed to perform high femininity to be accepted was in sixth grade. I was slotted into a rotating elective class, and the first one was a careers class. That careers class was utter hell for me. Every single day, I was tormented by an entire classroom of about twenty of my peers. I was bullied, no, abused for being fat and ugly and weird. I was called a whore, and told the only way I could ever be loved was someone raping me. Things were thrown at me, I was shoved down and tripped. I was bullied for my special interest in Transformers. I was told I was so fat and ugly I should be killed and be made into meat and cheese and fed to starving people because that was my only worth. Every single day I was told I should kill myself in varying ways. And all of that is just a quick summary. It was intense and brutal abuse for an entire semester, and I distinctly remember a day where there was a literal pool of tears on my desk. I couldn’t understand. I reached out to the teacher for help, and genuinely can’t remember exactly what he said. All I know is that he simply watched, and sometimes even joined in with “jokes” of his own. This was also the year abuse from my mother amped up, and home was a warzone--we were constantly arguing, and she became a professional at gaslighting and poking and prodding me until I exploded so I could be blamed for fighting back. My father would vacantly stand by and remind me not to fight back. This was also the year I began to self harm as a way of release. 

I remember thinking that if I looked more like the girls in my class, I wouldn’t be bullied so much. I was told I was ugly and unlovable, so I thought that if I performed more femininely, maybe I could be like those who tormented me and therefore not be a target. I thought there was something inherently wrong with the way I presented myself. I convinced my mother to take me to the store, and I bought wedge heels and gaudy jewelry I did not like to wear with my uniform--replacing my autobot necklace and sweatband. In another class I was teased for not shaving and for having ugly feet, so I learned to paint my nails, file my heels, and shave every bit of hair on my body--the echo of my father saying that since I grew pubic hair, I was now a woman and held accountable for all of my sins an echo on the cusp of my mind. I did everything in my power to be more pretty and girly. I used to be loud and rambunctious, and began to go silent and demure.

I remember walking up to the class in the new get-up that was certainly not me. I felt that I would be accepted but as I walked up...I fell flat on my ass. I couldn’t walk in the heels. They all pointed and laughed at me, and the abuse continued in even higher intensity. It was until the next semester that I fought back by throwing a desk at two of my abusers who followed me to the next rotating elective, screaming and snarling at them to leave me alone. Those two in particular stopped, but abuse from others continued for many years in many instances. I developed an eating disorder, continued self harming, and began to try and form femininity and “attractiveness” to the best of my ability. I added things like bows and kitty ears and flower crowns to my wardrobe--sure they were cute, and I did like them in a way, but it felt like putting on a costume or some sort of womanly obligation. It didn’t feel like me. Years later, I was told by someone I trusted that I was “too fat to wear pants”, which I internalized and began to only wear dresses--same thing with feeling like I was wearing a costume. I tried to be beautiful. I wanted to be butch, be myself, but I felt that if I was a cute and girly girl, demure and sweet, I wouldn’t be a target. I would be loved. 

And so I locked myself away. 

My relationship with my mother was a rocky one. She is definitely a sick and broken person, but I doubt she will ever get help. She swings between extremes, and I was always her doll and punching bag. She had a habit of pushing and pushing, finding all the littles holes in me that triggered autistic meltdowns and despair. She criticized everything about me, from my weight and height to my blaming me for how tangled my hair was. She entered me in sports and spelling bees with gentle but insisting prodding about how good I would be when I would rather be reading or playing, and when I got frustrated she would say it was my choice...when in reality I just wanted her approval. When I got older, and especially after my father killed himself, I began to fight back and question her authority though--sometimes violently. She didn’t like that, and was violent right back, and oftentimes first. I struggled my whole life with blaming myself for my outbursts and reactions, but through therapy I have learned I was a child being gaslit and abused, shown that violence was the only answer… And through therapy, I have learned to do better and grow. The worst instance of abuse was me having an autistic meltdown where I said that we should both just die and her response was to pull out a gun and point it at me--I collapsed down into our trash covered room (I was forced to share a bed with her) and pleaded with her to stop. She threatened to kill me and help me out since I was so suicidal, then turned the gun on herself and threatened to kill herself, in which I had to talk her down. When the gun was down, I fled in a flurry of tears and barely contained screams. It was truly the most horrible moment of my life, and I still struggle with the ptsd of that moment to this day. I was only fourteen.

All that background to say, my mother was extremely possessive of my body. She seemed to love to touch my breasts and butt, jerk me around, slap my butt, watch me get dressed. When I begged her to stop, she would tell me that she made that body and could do whatever she wanted to it. I found messages on her phone of her talking to guys about having sex with me and stealing my panties. She wouldn’t let me do my own hair because I couldn’t do it right. She wouldn’t let me bathe alone until I was over ten years old. I didn’t ever have my own room until I was 18 and shared it with my partner. She never let me play with my hair and kept a close eye on what I wore. This combined with my very religious Christian father, who said things like “if you know more song lyrics than bible verses when you die, you’ll go to hell” and the aforementioned accountability, along with things like letting me know he loved God more than me and always seeming to walk in while I was changing… I always felt owned by something. I never felt like my body or my identity belonged to me alone. And so it was extremely difficult to explore myself.

Sexual exploration became an outlet. I was asexual and didn’t possess sexual attraction or a desire for coital sex (still don’t), but I enjoyed kink play with my partner and playing with myself. I enjoyed porn, mostly stories. I always felt drawn to mlm porn, but never understood why. I saw myself in the big, fat men of the stories. I wished it could be me, wished I was a big hairy man like that. Wished I could be loved like that. Reading those types of erotica always got me off and made me feel relaxed and fulfilled, no matter what kink it regarded. Of course my mom would slutshame me without even knowing what I got up to, but sexual activity and pornography helped me find solace and ownership of my body. When I was aroused and taking care of myself, being taken care of, or taking care of someone else, I felt like I was finally in control of my body and my happiness. I had been sexually abused in different ways by different people throughout my life, and finding a certain safety and security in the kind of sexual activity I explored made me feel like...me. I found myself in those big men, but still didn’t make the connection that I was not cis. 

It wasn’t until many years that I began to question my gender. First nonbinary, then agender, then genderfluid, then bigender, then nonbinary again, now finally transmasc. I am autistic and struggle with a resistance to change. I have struggled with shifting my name because it feels like a betrayal to become something new. So I have become Charis instead of Charissa...but I think I may be Myles instead. Since I have struggled with abuse and feeling owned my whole life, it is scary to take my self creation into my own hands. People I am close to have expressed concern and dislike for my transition--especially my mother. I came out to her two days ago over the phone when she guessed I was transgender--or “wanted a sex change” as she put it. She outed me to her anti-lgbt boyfriend without my consent, and now they want to have a discussion. She cried and told me it was too much and she couldn’t talk yet. I am still unsure of what to do about it. I know my mother is broken, and has come far from the cruelty she was once capable of--but she still swings. I see those shattered pieces and their sharp edges and know they have the ability to cut. It is terrifying. 

Coming out, especially after so many years of abuse, has been absolutely terrifying and difficult. I am still navigating how to do it, especially with a name change. The clinic I am going to for hrt screwed up with their scheduling and had to reschedule me for later this month, a frustrating thing. I am looking forward to starting hrt, but also scared how people will treat me once those changes begin happening. Even with these fears and struggling with my interpersonal relationships...this is the greatest choice I have ever made. It is my truth and my freedom, and I will fight against that fear to become my most authentic self. I have an incredible partner by my side, and with their support and my own self love, I can do anything. 

[just-patchy]

Charis in twst shdjhsjdhs (she looks a lil wonky, i know)

Tbh I wouldn’t say I like any of the characters enough to ship myself with them I guess??? So Charis doesn’t have ships yet (pls send in your ocs tho-)

I sorted her into Octavinelle bc it was either Heartslabyul or Octavinelle, and I feel like she fits the ~aesthetic~ of Octavinelle more than Heartslabyul (but maybe I’ll draw Heartslabyul ver. in the future) Her only qualification is that she gets good grades (for some subjects it’s without studying lol)

Some more info:

She’s a little taller than I am, so around 167 cm

Probably annoyed Azul at least a bit because 1, she makes a lot of careless mistakes, and 2, she literally didn’t know how to do anything for Mostro Lounge so she had to learn everything

Likely helps with accounting or something because it’s the easiest

Sickly so she often works with headaches and stomachaches, even taking painkillers every (other) time (not a good idea)

UM would either be ‘A Memory’ (inspired by Eudora Welty’s short story, lets you play a memory on loop as long as it’s running) or ‘Dance the Night Away’ (relaxes the recepient and makes them dance to loosen up)

[theplumsoldier]

THE SZÉKELY [1]

title: fox in the henhouse

summary: count dracula visits your family home in greece and takes a special interest in you (set sometime 1800-ish) also this is just the first part:)

pairing: dracula x reader

word count: 3864

warnings: none

IT WAS THE FIRST time the Count had paid Greece a visit and he was just as enlivened as a shark with the scent of fresh nourishment. The voyage was long, exasperating, really, and it was one on which he would have to meet the requirements of an actual Count, rather than conform to those few obligations keeping a castle himself went hand-in-hand with.

It was a family by the name of Galani who had offered him shelter. They had, in fact, been burdened with the task through the Master’s (that is Basil) vocation, and had figured that given this man was a Count, he came of great wealth. Who would they be to deny expanding the company network and seeing as this man appeared to have taken a lot of interest in the firm late times, he was indeed one to impress.

And it was no secret the Galani’s kept a great manor. With their maids galore and the ever-suspicious butler, Abas, their abode was the most pompous, imperious one on the block and they were the proud inhabitants.

Towering pillars made out the front of the manor, marked with great iron-wrought detail and nearly no wear or the years affected them as they regularly were cleaned to its birth-look. Marble tiles and high ceiling, golden details on the spiral staircase, staff racing to take one's coat before you even could shrug it off. At least that was the case for the Count. He adored the rustic semblance.

To the right looked to be a gallery, some closed doors that no wonder hid a kitchen or perhaps scullery, something that looked like a parlor, and to the left, he was already met with a baroque set-up of a dining area. Howbeit, it was not one to eat at, only for the single display of the vase with yellow tulips that stood upon it. Someone was in a cheerful, daring mood, thought he.

Heavy steps suddenly sounded and pausing his inspection, Dracula turned to the thumping sound until his gaze met that of a man. Stout and tall, almost hovering the Count when they came to shake on greeting, and Dracula would suppose he was around his own age, but that would be laughable. He certainly was in his late fifties and as he bellowed in a fit of laughter of elevation, his Adam’s apple jumped in his throat.

“Count Dracula! What a great pleasure it is to host, may I just say that!”

The Count snickered and wrung the man’s hand tightly. It was clammy. “You may. And what a beautiful home. It’s rare I get to enjoy such grandeur.”

Bar his own house of glory and gore, of course.

“Come! Meet my family!”

And so he did. Two girls—or rather women, were lined up side by side. One with her hair tugged strictly from her face, embracing those features proudly that frankly, Count Dracula could not seem to find much beauty in. The daughter, however, you, now—wow! thought he. He could not keep his eyes off of you and you noticed this, blushing as he came to kiss your hand.

It was sad, you thought. How you were in your late teens and had never before been kissed, not even on the hand, until now. For a moment you thought of whatever silly boy that had snuck into your all-girls private school you had formed somewhat of a crush on just last week. Disregarding those imbeciles, you realized you had just gotten your first kiss from a real man.

“It’s a pleasure finally making your acquaintance,” spoke he and your heart hitched just then. Polite, as well.

“And you as well, sir, my father speaks highly of you. One would think you two were close.”

Count Dracula tilted his head toward Basil, your father, and he nodded proudly, flushing beneath his wrinkled eyes. The Count chuckled and looked back to you, sighing as if though he stood on a stage performing a drama. If you were not there to watch him, you would have pictured him swiping the back of his hand across his forehead as well.

“Alas, I regret to say we are not. I live all the way over in Transylvania. But, I suspect your father and I will bond just fine!”

They did, actually. Albeit it seemed Basil was more into the topics than the Count, who was otherwise preoccupied, sending you flickering – almost naughty if you did not know any better – glances. Your parents appeared to be either unbothered by the sir’s amorous yet wavering examining or simply heedless to the situation. To you that seemed out of the question, considering, right at that moment, your whole world revolved around his lingering, inviting gaze.

It was one of the rare occasions in which you were allowed a glass of wine as well. You could not possibly say no to just one glass, you would not want to come off as a little girl. But when you had your glass it was disclosed that the count did not drink a drop of liquor, or any other liquid (you later found out, over supper) so instead, you watched your fantasies vaporize in a cloud as you sipped the bitter-warm red wine.

Count Dracula confessed just before the main course, that he was guilty of having renourished a while before his arrival and already was satiated. He would not be so rude to retire to his sleeping quarters just yet, so he sat through supper, making conversation.

“What do you think of Greece so far? I’m certain you have had time to catch conversation among us Scots, have you not, Count?”

And the count chuckled as a memory of something bitter-sweet passed his recollection faintly.

“I have indeed. All I can say is your people are very, what’s the word, delectable,” decided he and it went quiet for a moment.

“Delectable” here meaning five-star rated blood but that the Galani’s need not know. And they did not, at least not Basil for he soon cackled a laugh and threw his hand on the table, eyeing the Count generously.

“Delectable indeed! Certainly our women have a great reputation, too!”

The comment made his wife, Evadne, scoff, her face contorting out of shape while you merely kept quiet over your greek cuisine. While the food indeed was delectable, your father revolted you deeply.

To be candid, and he always was, Dracula missed your involvement in the topic which fell Basil in taste. He wanted to hear your voice, so he better could imagine the sound you made when he was looped around your throat—if, no! Now he could not, he would hate to be the one to make a mess of such a pretty young lady. He was supposed to the good guest from afar with great elevating stories of Transylvania, not some brooding vampire in a b-grade meant-to-be-thrilling gothic novel.

When you suddenly did invade a pregnant pause you had his undivided attention.

“How is Transylvania anyway?”

“One big forest, really,” said Count Dracula, skimming a finger along the rim of his water glass which he had not yet drunk a drop of. “But I suppose I’m the wrong person to ask, I don’t often stretch my legs beyond my own pasture.”

“Oh, but you have to tell me something!” pleaded you, putting on a sullen frown. One he could not possibly deny even from across the oak table and he was inclined to believe you be well aware. “I have never been anywhere but little Greece. They say “it takes a lifetime for someone to discover Greece, but it only takes an instant to fall in love with her”, but I swear to you, she’s really not that great.”

“Y/N!” scolded your father, cross of your lowly talk. “Be proud of your country. It is sublime and the history that comes to our ancestry is a tale to be told.”

So he did, of course. Basil would not dare meet a stranger to whom he would not spill his entire life story to as well as the stories of his ancestors. Meanwhile, as Basil got lost in a journey some-hundred years ago, Count Dracula turned to face you, a mock smile splayed clear across his features. Your upbringing and good manners averted you from rolling your eyes at the guest.

The hours rushed by like seconds and the Count retired to his chambers before anyone else. The long trip had worn him out, he said. You thought it strikingly odd how he had all that luggage with him – well really it was only a large body-sized box filled with dirt – when he only was meant to stay with you for a few days before his return to Transylvania.

You were on your second glass of wine and already beginning to feel light-headed, merry even, had it not been for your fatigued body. Your every limp felt heavy while you were ready to throw a ball, it did not quite match up but so it appeared human anatomy was not made to make sense to the average joe.

In the late evening, when supposedly everyone had gone to bed, Count Dracula made his rounds to locate each room, or should he encounter a soul throughout his inspection, “appreciate the architecture”.

He was surprised to see the door to the hosts’ sleeping chambers ajar. What kind of people would sleep with the door wide open when occupying strangers in their own house? Though, he supposed, it makes little difference to leave a door open as opposed to shutting when they already had let evil in.

A few steps later, and he was inside, making out the center of the room.

His eyes look about him. Count Dracula felt like a muzzled fox in a henhouse, for all these treats were on display, neatly lined up. Their necks were displayed, veins pumping blood and after all, blood is lives. He bristled, shivering because he could have none and he knew that, so he brisked up his hunt and shut the door fully.

Next, he was caught mid-transit, the chary butler halting in his tracks. They both ought to be in their beds by this time, so neither could deliver very convincing defends to account for their whereabouts.

As they bid their goodnights, Dracula warily trod down the corridors until he finally heard a humming sound.

The door was barely squeezed open by a centimeter, but little light shone from inside the room and it and your sing-song hailed the Count in.

Carefully, he slid the door open by a few more inches. To his surprise you were not yet in your bed, he knew that for it was the first thing which his eyes caught. His lip twitched up, for he thought it funny, the bed, that is. All that comfort he had noticed humans seemed never to get enough of. Where he lied in a coffin filled with dirt from the Carpathian Mountains. They were complete luxury animals and it was comical to Dracula for natheless of their opulence desires, they always seemed to settle for less.

Next, his eyes landed on your figure. You stood still dressed in your gown, brushing your hair and humming to a tune which felt to your taste. He did not recognize it as a piece he knew, but just then your voice sounded so soft, so angelic and it brought him to wonder if your blood tasted the same. He had no plans of ruining your life with his thirst, he still was quenched from the early morning, but he had a code to always live spontaneously. Never say never, and his smile grew bigger as you brushed your hair from your neck, displaying yourself perfectly for him.

He was both drooling and getting hard at just the sight.

You sat before your vanity table and a few bottles were displayed before you along with the glass of wine from earlier. It was now empty, nearly licked clean and Dracula smiled even bigger, musing over the many ways he could take advantage of the situation.

“Count,” gasped you suddenly, catching him off guard while he thought of the various ways he could take you. Having you against your vanity was one particular he would not mind in the slightest.

“Oh apologies, Miss,” excused he and made the effort to step forward, into the dim lighting. “I was just retreating to my room when I heard a wonderful tune. I hope I am not intruding.”

“No, no–not at all,” slurred you, standing up to make yourself presentable. What he did not know was that you had spent your late drunk hours, making a play of him entering your room with any excuse. You would not have believed it had anyone told you that you would, in fact, receive a personal visit. “I was merely fooling about for a bit, I was going to get ready for bed. Should you not do the same?”

“Yes—” he sunk his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Yes, I should, only I figured I would postpone the act for a while. I don’t sleep well away from my home.”

You smiled and put the sand-colored brush down before you waded a tad closer to him.

“They say home is where the heart is,” said you lovingly, offering him a kind smile and he thought if you too would smile in bliss when he sunk his teeth into you.

He hummed and put his head on tilt. “Do they now?”

Nodding, a small pause ensued.

“I had this whole dream life envisioned when I was little,” spoke you suddenly.

Little, he sucked in his cheek to avoid chuckling. You are little, he thought to himself.

“Tell me about it.”

“First I would get the hell out of here,” said you decisively and his eyebrows bounced at your profanity. The sign of the cross on your neck derided you from speaking in such a manner surely, that much he was certain of escorted your doctrine. He also could understand from your dialogue earlier on that your father was not necessarily a big fan of you leaving the nest. “But I could never do that. I’m destined for nothing greater than this.”

“You do that quite a lot, don’t you? Doubt yourself.”

You shrugged lightly, absorbed in thought.

Your brood was tangible to Dracula and his legs slowly carried himself a bit closer. As if he could only near you but never lay a hand on you, and that repentance showed in his dark eyes, for the sign in the center of your collarbone shunned him.

Dracula made a show of circling around you like a vulture, much like one would when descending on its dead prey. The thought, that you were his prey, struck you and you shuddered.

You took a deep breath like you were preparing yourself to hold your breath, and to your dismay, you dug your grave deeper as you fell deeper for the man. Even his cologne was to die for, its main accords aromatic, fresh, citrus and something you could not quite put your finger on, but whatever the scent, you suddenly grew hot.

“Take off your necklace.”

Bewildered as to why you stilled. Unsure but keenly interested as to what he had in mind, you did as per request and walked to your bed. You hung it from the knob of your closet and turned back to face him.

You had this wild and utterly insane fantasy of where this would go, but that was fantasy and frankly, fantasy cannot be a reality, certainly not yours. Still, with the thought of him kissing you again, this time on your lips, you did not dare look him in the eye.

The Count’s prying gaze could be felt from his several feet away and you grew anxious, trepidation clear in your feet. When your eyes flickered about, you were surprised to see him suddenly turn his back on you.

Had he grown tired of you already?

“Have you heard what they are saying about the heavens?”

Furrowing your brows, you slowly made your way to the bed, taking a seat and keeping one hand on the footboard.

“What are they saying?” asked you, inquisitive.

He stood by the window, watching the night sky as if he could arbitrate all its mysteries right then and there.

“That we are in a system of thousands and thousands of stars—planets. Gas and dust all make up for the galaxy. There could be planets out there, just like ours.”

Now you wondered if he had drunk a bottle all to himself in secrecy.

You grinned softly, feeling the weariness of the day’s adventures take over you. He gave you a funny look and you shook your head, still smiling and looking at the ground like a fool in love. In a way you were, still, it was odd to think you only had known this man for a single day. It suddenly was very hard to think of a time where he was not there. Gosh! You are a fool falling!

The Count pulled the drapes, shunning out the moonlight as the last source of lighting bar the few candles that did put a soft amber-gold light to your room. You gulped and looked down. It suddenly felt a lot smaller, your room.

“That’s absurd,” annunciated you.

His tongue clicked, and you could hear his smirk.

“No, you’re being bigoted, Y/N.”

“I’m being realistic,” corrected you, finding your small voice.

Next, you knew he stood right before you, his shoes toe-to-toe with your bare feet. The lump in your throat was back.

Surely regrettably you forced yourself to finally lookup. And you guessed it. He gazed right back at you.

He brushed your hair aside, exposing your neck to his touch.

“Heavens, you look seraphic.”

You snorted, suddenly feeling bold. As if you had not heard that before. Sometimes it was difficult telling when his bravado came to a halt, and when it was his actual self began.

“Don’t you mean “delectable”?”

He grinned, and you marveled for a moment at his burst of awe.

Earlier on, you had examined hisself and made certain he brandished no wedding band, lest making yourself uncomfortable when you, later on, would imagine him hovering over you. It was odd to think a man of his nobility was without matrimony, but he had admitted to “waiting for the right one” over dinner. Until he stepped into your room, you had thought you would fantasize about him in your dreams but that seemed unlikely as you could not even look him in the eye without blushing.

“Would you kiss me again?”

Pause.

Then he laughed, wandering a few steps back, only to circle himself, then return to meet your front.

“Would you like me to kiss you, dear?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, suddenly feeling very little before this grand man. While he indeed could appear intimidating, he had this warm aura about him which made you want nothing but to throw yourself at him.

“Is that it? On your hand again?”

You stood up, your chest heaving heavily.

“On my lips.”

The Count smiled bigger, his pearly white teeth on perfect display, catching the glimpse of the light and you suddenly became bothered by the tension. He could not put his hands on you quick enough.

“Please,” pleaded you and he tsked entertained, his hand snaking down your side.

“When you ask like that who would I be to deny the missus?”

He watched with hardly hidden delight as your blood pumped hard in your head. His focus lingered on your lips now. Delicately he pressed his lips down on your, pulling you close as possible with a large hand on the back of your neck.

Then he pulled back. While you attempted your best at maintaining normal breathing, the shock wore off. It was not that it was unexpected, simply that it, in fact, had been a wish you had not imagined he would grant you. His gaze trailed along your neck, the curve of your figure in the corset, how your breasts were pressed tight.

You were close enough to feel the warmth roll off his body, his hair so elegantly pushed back like a dark crown, now a single stray string falling unto his forehead and the air was knocked right out of you again.

Your lip wobbled, unsure of what to say as you breathed heavily, a groan escaping your lips as his idle finger dexterously trailed along with the cut of your throat.

You fell back to sit on the bed again, coy eyes lingering at his. He leaned over you and you eagerly pulled his lips back down on your own, feeling the swell of the covers you were supposed to be sleeping under around you.

The Count sucked on your bottom lip, his teeth lightly chafing your lip and you moaned into his mouth, carefully greeting him with your tongue. He could not help but grow harder, needier of your exquisitely luscious moans.

Encouraging you to lie on your back, he pulled your leg up about him and even through the many layers of your exorbitant dress you could feel his hard against you. It was a feeling you had only ever imagined, one you would never have thought you would feel and with a stranger, not to mention, a count.

You shivered and cried into his mouth, gasping at the feel and he could already smell you. Goodness, it was difficult to control himself in your presence. Not that he was doing much to hold back, but it took everything in him not to taste you right on the spot.

“You’re drunk,” whispered he suddenly.

You looked puzzled up to him, wondering why he had stopped.

He then began to scramble to get off of you and you sat right back up, breathing loudly.

“What? No, sir. If you think of my judgment, I’m more than capable of making my own decisions.”

“Oh, I know you are,” responded he. He simply could not handle it any longer. He feared he might lose control, drain you just then and he would hate to ruin something, someone as precious as yourself. “But I ought to return to my own sleeping chambers now. Your parents are just down the hall, dear.”

He was already making his exit.

“I can be quiet!”

Your voice was desperate for more, and he turned, the slyest of all smiles writing itself across his face.

In two long strides, Dracula stood before you in a split second and you gulped down, for his expression was blank. But as he sighed and took your face in his hands, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

He forced you to look him in the eyes.

“Sleep well, my love.”

And so he left, leaving you with nothing but a lesson on high hopes and wet undergarments.

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

get to know me tag

I was tagged by @ammocharis! thank you! :)

answer questions / tag blogs, u know the drill :)

nickname: Jade

gender: [dial-up internet noise] but she/her pronouns are fine

height: p much everyone I meet (online OR in person) assumes I am taller than I actually am, which is intentional. 

time(zone): its mountain time baby

song stuck in my head: the Orpheus & Eurydice song from the Hades soundtrack because my friend sent me a post about Orpheus 

last movie: Wolfwalkers!!!!!! It was so beautiful and charming. I recommend every movie Cartoon Saloon puts out this one included!

last show: some netflix competition show about glassblowing, as background noise while working. I’ve watched a lot of that sort of thing lately because I’ve been too busy to really devote my attention to anything :(

when did you create this blog: hm, I don’t actually know how to look that up. Sometime in 2016 after I’d been obsessed with DA:I for a while and decided it was enough content to merit its own sideblog off my main account. I would guess maybe March? 

what do I post: most of my Bioware reblogs go over here now, both Dragon Age and Mass Effect :) plus my original fanric, fanart, and bioware-themed crafting! Also some general writing advice/memes/etc since this is the account I interact with more fanwriters through. My non-fandom art, writing, and crafts go onto my main blog, @songofsaraneth!

last thing googled: “kinds of fruit spiky” becuase I was trying to remember the name of a new weird fruit I have eaten. My 2021 resolution is a continuation of my 2020 resolution, which is to eat more strange fruits! As in if I go to the grocery store, and there is a fruit for sale I have never tried before or not eaten in a long time, I buy one and sample it :) The fruit in question for this googling btw was “rambutan”! It was good, pretty sweet and sort of like a juicy gummy in texture. 

do I get asks: every now and then I get a fit of inspiration and reblog a bunch of prompt lists in a row, and then when people actually send them and I look in my inbox, I go “Hmmmm” and vanish for a week becuase writing is hard. so sorry if you have ever sent me a prompt, i promise you i made a word document with the prompt copied and pasted into it before i got moody and went out for a hike instead. No one wants to know what the inside of my WIP folder looks like...

why I chose my url: I was just desperately searching for any DA/Solas related url that wasn’t already claimed, at the height of the DAI fandom heyday. I’m sure many are free now.

following: 503... and so many dead

followers: 648 it looks like

average hours of sleep: depends on how early I have to be awake the following day. If I have no obligations I’ll sleep for ~7 hours or so. But if I do then usually less since I’m fairly nocturnal and it’s really hard for me to fall asleep. I’d guess 5-7 on average, but sometimes with bad nights of only 3-4.

instruments: I spent the last several years learning Taiko Drumming from an amazing group of older women in the town I lived in. I was heartbroken to move and no longer be able to drum last summer. I could still practice on my own just with the motions/no drum, but losing the group energy element of it really makes me too sad to do so. I also grew up playing classical flute from grade school through the start of college, and once in college transitioned a bit to tin whistle instead. I’ve collected a variety of flutes/whistles/piccolos over the years in different styles but am not good about playing them on my own.

dream job: literal dragon, but i’d settle for mermaid astronaut

dream trip: I’ve been recently obsessed with Greenland. Also, anywhere tropical. 

last book I read: I’m currently almost done with of A Conspiracy of Kings by Megan Whalen Turner

favorite food: cheese... like a really nice charcuterie board with a nice variety of cheeses + cured meats + jams + fruit + crackers. though Charis’ answer for this was homemade pizza and oh boy am I craving that now

nationality: All 4 of my grandparents were 1st generation americans! So I’m a mix of Lithuanian, Irish, Italian, and the other 1/4 is a German/Belgian/European mystery 

favorite song: gosh so many. I’ve recently been in a country/country-gothic/folk/folk-rock mood because of a D&D game I’m a part of, so here’s a link to the playlist for my character that fits that vibe

top three fictional universes: hmmm i’m going to go with besides the obvious DA/ME universes (which I love to play in even if i wouldn’t want to live in them)... so I’ll pick Middle Earth, Star Trek, and Animorphs :)

i will tag: @nug-juggler  @raposabranca  @thebookworm0001  @m-m-m-myysurana ohhhhhh thats all my brain will give me off the top of my head right now but everyone feel free to play along & tag me :)

[pussreboots]

[angelliev]

Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Thirteen - Falling

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: Aria comes back home to deal with the backlash of her relationship with her lover, JJ becomes interested in finding someone, and Aria scares the Pogues. 

Warnings: Kissing, cursing, blood, fainting, hospitals and Sarah Cameron being a savage.

A/N: Not much for this one. Looking forward to the next part. (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don’t own any of the characters or the show.)

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

Miami has its perks, but nothing beats being back home in the outer banks. We’ve been back for several days now, hanging out, going to school, the usual. I wish spring break could last forever. Coming back to school was not something anyone was looking forward to. Thankfully, it was the last period of the day. I can’t wait to get out of this uniform and school. Ever since people found out about my relationship with JJ, people have been talking about me. Sometimes someone will mutter ‘pogue slut’ when they’re passing by me in the halls. I can really give less than two shits about what other people think, but it’s still pretty annoying. I’m just thankful I have Kiara, Sarah and Charis with me.

“So, Aria is it true?” An annoying voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I huff before looking up at Courtney, my classmate and unfortunately Samantha’s sister. She also used to live in Chapel Hill, then she moved to figure eight, like me. We used to be friends back in middle school, until I broke things off with her, due to her bullying others. I refused to be associated with a bully.

“Is what true Courtney?” I asked uninterested. “Is it true that you’re going out with JJ Maybank?” The question wanted to make me scream out of frustration. “Yes, why do care?” “Well, I was just curious, is he like your boyfriend or just a booty call?” I rolled my eyes at the question. “I’ve heard from a lot of tourons that he’s great in bed. Is that true?” Fuck yea it is. She asked with a devilish smile printed on her face. That’s when Sarah stepped in.

“Gee Courtney, you’re always into everyone’s business. Just like your boyfriend is into all the freshman girls’ skirts because he just can’t seem to get it up when he’s with you.” Que the scene from ‘Friday’ when they say DAMN! Courtney stomps away while glaring at the two of us. “Fucking bitch.” Sarah mutters. “Calm down Boo. Her words mean nothing to me. She’s just trying to get under my skin. It’s not worth the fight.” I chuckle, trying to calm her down. “I don’t care. No one talks to my splinter bean like that.” She boops my nose. “You’re adorable. You still coming to the chateau later on today?” I asked. We can’t really hangout together, due to the feud between our families. Everyone has been talking about it on the island. The two most powerful and richest families on the island fighting, all because of Rafe Cameron. Of course, Sarah and I didn’t let this affect our friendship. We’re still two peas in a pod, like always.

“Yep. Kiara and I are planning on volunteering at the turtle exhibit before we head over there. You want to tag along?” She offered. “I’d love to, but I’m helping JJ study for his test.” Lately, I’ve been tutoring JJ and making sure he’s going to school. I want to make sure he graduates, plus I don’t want him getting in more trouble with his dad. So far, it’s paying off. His grades have gone up and he’ll be walking for graduation.

“Studying or fucking?” Sarah smirks mischievously. “Studying! Get your head out of the gutter!” The two of us laugh together as we walk outside, where JJ and his bike are parked. I peck his lips, despite receiving disgusted glares. “I’ll catch up with you two later. Have fun ‘studying’.” She winks, making us laugh. “How was your day?” He asked. I answered by kissing him sweetly. “Does that answer your question?” He licks his lips. “Don’t know. Might have to try again.” He says before planting another one on me. I can feel the burning gazes of my peers on us. “Jay, people are staring.” I giggle. “Let em. They need to know not to mess with my girl. C’mon.” He puts on my helmet before I hop on his back. The engine roars to life, only gaining more attention from my classmates. JJ notices and decides to flip them off before yelling, “Later losers!” I giggle as we drive off towards the cut.

The two of us sit and munch on our food as we continue to study at The Wreck. It’s pretty cute watching JJ do his homework. He always has his eyebrows knitted and his eyes are so concentrated. His blonde hair occasionally falls in front of his eyes. “You’re staring again baby.” He smirks. “I can’t help it. You’re just so handsome.” I play with the loose strand of his hair, making him blush. “Awe, am I making you blush?” I tease. “I don’t blush.” He denies with a playful serious face. “Yeah sure, let’s see your work.” I take the paper into my hands scanning the answers.

“Hey babe guess what.” He starts. “Oh, dear god. What is it?” I joked earning an eye roll from him. “So, you know that broken-down Chevy Camaro I have?” He asked. “Yeah, what about it?” I asked, while continuing to check his paper. “I’ve saved enough money to fix it up completely. John B and I even towed it to the chateau, since my dad wants nothing to do with it. Now, all I need to do is fix it up.” I look up, my eyes are filled with excitement. “Babe, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! You can finally have your own car!” He smiles cheek to cheek. “I know, but I don’t know if I want to spend the money on it.” This makes my smile falter a bit.

“What do you mean? You’ve been talking about fixing it up forever. It’s always been your dream car. You’ve been saving up to fix it since freshman year.” He just sighs. “I know, but I think I want to spend the money on something else.” He says. “Like what?” He stays silent for a moment. “I think I want to hire someone to find my mom.” He speaks softly. His words take me by surprise for a moment. “I thought about what you said about your dad hiring someone to find your sister. I thought maybe I could hire someone like that to find my mom. I know it’s stupid.” He fiddles with his pencil; I quickly take his hand in mine. “It’s not stupid to want to find out what happened to your mom. I think it’s a great idea to hire someone to find her. Hell, I’ll pay for the private investigator.” I suggest.

“No, I can’t ask you to do that.” He immediately protests. “You don’t have to. JJ, I want to do this. You deserve to know. Plus, I’d love to meet the woman who gifted me with such an amazing boyfriend.” This seems to make him crack a smile, but only for a second. “But what if she doesn’t want to see me?” His question broke my heart. “It’s worth a shot. The worst that can happen is that she doesn’t want to see you, which I doubt will happen. Based on everything you told me about her, she really loves you.” I try to reassure him. “If she really loves me, then why did she leave?” He mutters. I just sigh. “Some people make terrible mistakes. But that doesn’t mean they can’t learn from them. Maybe you can give her the chance to redeem herself.” He just sighs. “I still can’t ask you to pay for a P.I., they’re expensive, aren’t they?” He asked. “Yeah, but in the end it’ll be worth it. Please let me do this for you JJ. That way you can use the money to fix the car and see your mom. Trust me, it’ll all be worth it in the end. I love you, so let me do this for you.” I plead.

“Fine. At least let me pay for the meal this time though.” He gives in. “Deal! Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Maybank.” I say in a stern voice, earning a chuckle from him. “Come on silly goose. The Pogues are probably waiting for us. I don’t need them scolding us for being late.” He pays the bill in cash before walking me out and onto the bike.

We reach the chateau, where we see everyone hanging out on the porch. When we reach them, I notice that they’re looking through these photos. “What are you guys up to?” I asked curiously. “Just looking at some adorable pictures of us when we were kids. Look at the boys.” Kie lifts up a picture of younger Pope, JJ and John B at the beach. “Aw! You guys look so cute!” I exclaim holding the picture. “What can I say, I’ve always been quite the eye candy.” JJ smirks, earning a glare from me. “So, how did you guys meet?” I point between the boys. The three of them share a laugh. John B speaks up. “JJ and I met in the third grade. This kleptomaniac here stole one of my toy cars, so I chased him all over the cut until I finally caught him. This dumbass had climbed to the top of this tree and couldn’t get down, cause his foot was stuck. I offered to help him down, only if he’d give me back the car. He said yes and we’ve been best friends ever since. Pope here, we met him in the sixth grade. JJ would always cheat off of Pope, which always made the poor boy mad. Then one day at lunch, these eighth graders had ganged up on him. We noticed and started a food fight to help Pope. The three of us got detention. The rest I history.” John B and the boys smile at the fond memories.

“That’s cute.” I chuckle. Part of me wishes I got to know them when I was younger. I guess they’ve always been troublemakers. They’re pretty close knitted, making their bond unbreakable. “Alright guys. Are we fishing or what?” Asked JJ. As we make our way to the HMS Pogue, I start to feel slightly dizzy. “You good babe?” JJ asked concerned. “Yeah, my head just hurts a little. Probably dehydrated.” I shrug my shoulders, not thinking anything of it. “Here, have some water.” He hands me one out of the cooler. “You’re starting to sound like my mom.” I chuckle. “Hey, I like your mom. She’s pretty cool. Always makes lunch when for Pope and I when we deliver groceries. Tips me nicely too. Wish all kooks were like that.” JJ smiles to himself. “Damn, I need to start delivering groceries to your house.” Says John B. “You should man. She always has lunch packed for us on standby. She makes the best sandwiches. Usually she’ll have some strawberries, carrots and chips on the side. Sometimes, she’ll put a cookie in there too.” JJ rambles on about my mom. “She likes you to you know? She thinks you’re pretty handsome.” I mock my mom. “What can I say? Moms love me.” He smiles cheek to the cheek, making me roll my eyes.

So far, we were all having fun on the boat laughing, talking, etc. Everything was going perfectly normal until my headache started getting worse and worse. I continue to down my water, thinking I’m still dehydrated. Perhaps I’m just stressed from school? It doesn’t explain the sweating though. It was only a nice seventy degrees out, with a beautiful breeze, and I was just wearing a swimsuit. We stopped for a moment to take a dip in the water. It still didn’t help however. My head was still pounding and I was still sweating afterwards.

“Aria!” The sound of Pope’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Huh?” I look over at the Pogues who looked at me with concerning faces. “I was asking if you were okay. You look a little pale.” He pointed out. Great. “Yeah I’m fine. Just dehydrated. I’ll grab another water.” I shake it off, thinking it was nothing. I was wrong though. I shouldn’t have thought it was nothing. The second I got up, I started to notice these peculiar spots in front of my eyes. I also couldn’t help but notice my shortness of breath as I made my way to the cooler. I had to stop walking for a moment just to catch my breath. “You alright babe?” JJ’s voice sounded faint. My vision began to go blurry as I stared at the water. “JJ, I don’t feel good. I think there’s something…” I didn’t get to finish my sentence before my vision goes completely dark and my body goes light.

Her body shuts down and falls to the ground. Her head thumps hard against the surface. The Pogues jump and gasp when they see their dear friend collapse. “Aria!” JJ shouts, rushing towards her unresponsive body. John B doesn’t think twice before racing the HMS Pogue back towards the chateau. “Aria! Baby! Hey! Wake up!” She doesn’t respond to his frantic yelling. That’s when he notices the blood on his hand coming from the gaping wound on her hand. “Oh shit! Fuck! Guys she’s bleeding!” JJ can feel the panic and fear finally setting in. His heart beating a thousand times faster.

Sarah comes running with a clean cloth and first aid kit in hand. Tears settle in her eyes and her hands shake as she applies it to the cut. “Okay. Okay. She gonna need stitches. We need to get her to the hospital. John B faster!” That’s what she said. Sorry. JB goes races through the marsh. “What the hell happened?” Kie asked. “I don’t know! She’s was fine all day until we got on the boat!” JJ exclaimed. The Pogues near the chateau. “John B! Help me get her to the van!” JJ demands. The two boys grab a hold of her body and carry her to the van. Kie jumps into the driver seat, with Pope in the front, and Sarah opens the side door. Once everyone is situated, Kie hits the gas, making her way to the hospital.

“Just hang on baby. We’ll be there soon I promise.” JJ’s voice and hands shook. The minutes felt agonizingly long as they raced to the hospital. A sigh of relief leaves the group of teenagers lips, when they finally reach their destination. The boys quickly grab a hold of Aria rushing her into the ER. Their desperate pleads can be heard throughout the ER, gaining everyone’s attention. A familiar face spots the two boys carrying the limp girl.

“Aria!” Elaine yelps and makes her way towards them, a gurney following behind. “What happened?!” She asked frantically as her daughter was placed on the journey and rushed through the halls. “We were hanging out, then all of the sudden she fainted and hit her head.” JJ explained, following them, until he was cut off by a few doctors. “You’ll have to wait out here son.” “No! That’s my girlfriend in there! I can’t leave her!” JJ ignores their orders, tears welling in his eyes. John B grabs a hold of his close friend. “JJ! She’s in good hands. She’s with her mom. She’ll be okay. I promise. Just breathe man.” JJ listens to his friend, finally catching his breath, yet he couldn’t help but worry over the love of his life as he stood there without her.

[coritm]

     *  picture  this  ,  my  intro  runs  smoothly  as  can  be  ,  in  fact  it’s  the  best  you’ve  ever  come  across  &  we  plot  to  our  heart’s  desire  !  to  dream  of  it  ,  but  hi  angels  .  .  .  i  am  presley  ,  virgo  sun  /  gemini  moon  /  libra  ascending  &  i  am  stuck  on  the  east  coast  for  now  .  full  time  student  &  so  many  side  gigs  to  get  that  paid  for  ,  also  supporting  my  candle  obsession  &  overstaying  on  etsy  ,  also  not  too  wise  of  me  to  buy  chapstick  every  time  i’m  at  the  store  .  horror  movies  ?  totally  my  jam  ,  slasher  films  especially  but  i  also  move  along  to  eighties  /  nineties  films  so  please  ,  slide  through  if  you  feel  the  same  .  enough  on  me  ,  that’s  boring  in  itself  &  onto  a  muse  who  has  stolen  my  heart  entirely  :  corrine  locklear  ,  a  promising  college  soccer  star  who  reminds  everyone  of  her  late  father’s  career  run  .

◦  ❋  credentials  :

full  name  :  corrine  audriana  locklear  preferred  names  :  cori  ,  rin  birthdate  :  june  27  ,  1998  age  :  twenty  -  one  years  old  co  -  star  :  cancer  sun  ,  leo  moon  ,  gemini  ascending  hometown  :  malibu  ,  california  status  :  full  time  college  student  &  athlete  at  university  of  california  ,  los  angeles  ,  brand  ambassador  for  nike  gender  :  cisfemale  sexual  orientation  :  pansexual  label  :  the  mirage  traits  :  chary  ,  rousing  ,  false  -  hearted  &  tantalizing 

◦  ❋  appearance  :

face  claim  :  sydney  sweeney  eye  color  :  azure  hair  color  :  long  ,  unruly  blonde  tresses  to  the  cusp  of  her  elbows  height  :  5′7″  tattoos  :  her  parents’  marriage  date  in  roman  numerals  on  the  side  extension  of  her  wrist  ,  white  zalias  on  her  arm  ,  tbd  piercings  :  mostly  her  ears  with  an  astounding  five  on  each  ,  association  of  cartilage  ,  tragus  ,  auricle  & lobe  ,  healed  belly  button  piercing  from  one  summer  her  teammates  decided  to  take  a  lemon  &  needle  to  give  her  one  marks  /  scars  :  birthmark  on  the  nape  of  her  neck  in  the  shape  resembling  a  star  if  you  altered  your  gaze  with  a  squint  ,  lasting  minimal  scar  on  her  hairline  from  when  she  climbed  a  tree  on  the  locklear  property  because  a  younger  boy  swore  she  couldn’t  &  fell  ,  luckily  only  appearing  to  need  stitches  notable  features  :  golden  tresses  ,  long  legs  ,  sultry  eyes

◦  ❋  overview  :

-  growing  up  ,  corrine  was  the  youngest  of  the  three  locklear  prodigies  ,  each  carrying  interests  from  their  devoted  parents  with  talents  that  made  top  interest  in  the  nineties  &  early  thousands  .  corrine  managed  to  get  halves  of  each  ,  her  mother’s  free  spirit  &  her  father’s  courage  ,  taking  to  the  soccer  field  later  than  anticipated  ,  as  her  father  lost  his  first  two  to  modeling  &  law  school  ,  for  some  reason  &  hoped  his  last  born  had  a  passion  for  the  sport  as  he  did  .  first  starting  out  ,  from  their  homemade  video  tapes  ,  it  was  seen  that  corrine  insisted  on  wearing  her  father’s  number  for  her  team  ,  but  chose  to  pick  daisies  from  the  sidelines  &  occasionally  giving  the  crowd  a  run  for  it’s  money  by  pulling  off  a  play  that  seemed  advanced  for  her  age  group  .  eventually  ,  she  was  barely  a   teenager  playing  for  a  traveling  team  meant  for  older  girls  .  despite  her  father’s  persistent  ,  yet  laidback  approach  to  training  her  into  top  shape  ,  she  enjoyed  her  mother’s  studio  more  ,  overlooking  the  ocean  &  the  sound  of  her  shears  cutting  fabric  ,  representing  a  wardrobe  of  low  rise  jeans  &  silk  headbands  .

-  once  high  school  came  ,  however  ,  she  really  found  herself  all  about  soccer  ,  the  possibility  of  making  a  career  of  it  someday  left  her  elated  .  effortless  as  it  seemed  ,  her  talents  strengthened  through  her  summer  counselorship  helping  younger  kids  the  sport  ,  while  the  other  counselor’s  picked  up  a  thing  ,  or  two  .  she  was  the  envy  of  everyone  who  watched  her  ,  easily  lead  to  the  captain  of  her  high  school  varsity  team  &  remained  until  graduation  ,  where  she  stepped  into  ucla’s  women’s  soccer  team  the  following  year  .  with  academics  ,  she  was  scatter  brained  &  required  time  after  when  able  ,  but  she  made  up  for  in  her  extra  curricular  activities  :  her  mother’s  free  spirit  inserting  again  &  having  her  join  save  the  earth  ,  debate  ,  inspired  speakers  ,  cleaning  beaches  &  so  forth  .  on  the  sports  side  ,  she  had  been  watched  carefully  by  college’s  since  her  eighth  grade  year  ,  when  they  scrimmaged  freshman  in  the  local  college  for  lifting  spirits  .  each  point  made  on  her  behalf  ,  or  helped  in  some  way  .

-  currently  ,  she  is  a  senior  at  ucla  &  a  forward  for  their  women’s  soccer  team  ,  bringing  them  achievements  since  her  start  as  a  freshman  &  one  of  the  few  to  start  that  year  .  since  her  college  career  ,  she  has  become  a  brand  ambassador  for  nike  &  can  be  noticed  adorning  their  signature  logo  in  some  of  her  outfits  .  she  has  aspirations  to  join  the  usa  women’s  soccer  team  &  when  asked  ,  she  was  the  most  likely  to  win  an  olympic  medal  as  a  superlative  in  high  school  &  she  hopes  to  make  that  dream  a  reality  .  however  ,  a  recent  video  of  her  spread  across  social  media  like  wildfire  of  corrine  in  a  state  of  clear  intoxication  ,  with  spots  of  nudity  .  she  hasn’t  confessed  to  it  yet  ,  but  there’s  high  suspicion  it  is  her  .  the  night  was  very  blurred  ,  but  it  seems  far  -  fetched  from  the  character  she  presents  to  everyone  .

[chiebass]

WHO AM I ?

I am who I am.

A unique version of mine

Living with glow not on obscured!

Fixing mysef who really am I

Moving 5,6,7,8 step by step

This is me

A person you can be comfortable to be with

Humble, Serious and Silly indeed

The one who can give mark in everything i do

Brave one to face the obstacles

With stuggles and success

Touching ups and down

And,

Tripping the light fantastic.

Maybe you know who I am,

But I will give you some time,

To know who really am I.

Archie John B. Cilot Grade 12 - Charis

#introtophiloTask1

@sirferds

[charie-boticario-blog]

Meme

EMPOWERMENT TECHNOLOGIES

MODULE 3

CHARIE MAE C. BOTICARIO

GRADE 11 STEM MENDELEEV

[felicityodiamar-blog]

"An unexamined Life is not worth living"

Imagine world without discoveries. Imagine you being so dumb and doesn't even know anything about life. IMAGINE everything as not examined. How are you be able to conquer certain goal and find your own purpose? Then why live if you mean nothing? Thats why unexamined life is not worth living. EXAMINED LIFE will make you be more knowledgable, optimistic and realistic. You'll find and know your capabilities, worth and purpose in life. With that you can contribute a lot not just in people around but in your community. That's Worth Living..

Felicity Odiamar Grade 12- Charis

#introtophiloTask3

@sirferds

[vermiculated]

books - this is why ‘monthly” is a valuable interval

oh geez.

White Nights - Ann Cleeves

Sawkill Girls - Claire Legrand

Lady in Red - Maire Claremont

Behind Closed Doors - Amanda Vickery (vg)

A Rope of Thorns - Gemma Files

Dreaming Darkly - Caitlin Kittredge

The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics - Olivia Waite

Astray - Emma Donoghue

Heartthrobs - Carol Dyhouse

Nine Pints - Rose George

Daily Rituals - Mason Currey

Rereadings - Anne Fadiman ed

Rustication - Charles Palliser

What Makes This Book So Great - Jo Walton

Creatures of Will and Temper - Molly Tanzer

The Lost Man - Jane Harper

The Sins of Lord Lockwood - Meredith Duran

The Jade Temptress - Jeannie Lin

Hither Page - Cat Sebastian (hashtag soup feelings)

Paradise Lodge - Nina Stibbe

Medical Bondage - Deirdre Benia Cooper Owens

Flagrant Conduct - Dale Carpenter

Intimate Friends - Martha Vicinus

The Luminous Dead - Caitlin Starling

Night's Black Angels - Ronald Pearsall

The Politics of Narrative - Kenneth Graham

Indigenous Navigation and Voyaging in the Pacific - Nicholas Goetzfridt

Pornography - Mari Mikkola

Life in the English Country House - Mark Girouard

Country House Life - Jessica Gerard

The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins (classic beachread)

A Tree of Bones - Gemma Files

Battleborn - Claire Vaye Watkins

Marilou is Everywhere - Sarah Elaine Smith

When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities - Chen Chen

The Scientific Revolution in Victorian Medicine - AJ Youngson

Consider the Fork - Bee Wilson

You May Kiss the Duke - Charis Michaels

My One and Only Duke - Grace Burrowes

The Quick - Lauren Owen

Our Kind of Cruelty - Araminta Hall

I Am Still Alive - Kate Alice Marshall

Will's True Wish - Grace Burrowes (the wish is dogs)

The Trauma Cleaner - Sarah Krasnostein

Ghost Wall - Sarah Moss (vg)

At The Lightning Field - Laura Raicovich

Offshore - Penelope Fitzgerald

Felix Yz - Lisa Bunker

Amazons and Military Maids - Julie Wheelwright

A Debutante in Disguise - Eleanor Webster

A Little Light Mischief - Cat Sebastian

Sorcerer to the Crown - Zen Cho

Re-dressing America's Frontier Past - Peter Boag (peat bog)

Courting the Cat Whisperer - Wynter Daniels

In Miniature - Simon Garfield

Long Live the Tribe of Fatherless Girls - T Kira Madden

The Science of Shakespeare - Dan Falk

A Twenty Minute Silence Followed by Applause - Shawn Wen

A Flag Worth Dying For - Tim Marshall

Ordinary Beast - Nicole Sealey (vg)

Combat-Ready Kitchen - Anastacia Marx de Salcedo

The Tradition of Female Transvestism in Early Modern Europe - Rudolf Dekker and Lotte van de Pol

Kiss Me Someone - Karen Shepard

Safari Honeymoon - Jesse Jacobs

A Memory Called Empire - Arkady Martine

Nine Continents - Xiaolu Guo

300 Arguments - Sarah Manguso

Grief Cottage - Gail Godwin

Red Bones - Ann Cleeves

Life Mask - Emma Donoghue

The Flame and the Flower - Kathleen Woodwiss

Brute - Emily Skaja

A Bride's Story 6 - Kaoku Moru trans William Flanagan

Skim - Mariko Tamaki and Jillian Tamaki

The Invention of Pornography - Lynn Hunt ed

Canned - Anna Zeide

Mostly Dead Things - Kristen Arnett

Free and Natural - Sarah Schrank

A Tree for Peter - Kate Seredy

In the Distance - Hernan Diaz (vg)

Mastering Fear - Rikke Schubart

Beyond Speech - Mari Mikkola ed

Portrait of a Woman in Silk - Zara Anishanslin

The Art of Living - FL Lucas

Pornographic Art and the Aesthetics of Pornography - Hane Maes ed

Elizabeth and Jacobean Poets - John F Danby

Family Fortunes - Leonore Davidoff and Catherine Hall

Silence of the Grave - Arnaldur Indridason trans Bernard Scudder

She Walks in Shadows - Silvia Moreno-Garcia ed

The Hallowed Ones - Laura Bickle

Making the Grade - William Fischel

The Joseph Johnson Letterbook - John Bugg ed

Manet Manette - Carol Armstrong

Like A Mule Bringing Ice Cream to the Sun - Sarah Ladipo Manyika

Regency House Styles - Trevor Yorke

Timekeepers - Simon Garfield

Patience and Sarah - Isabel Miller

The Warlow Experiment - Alix Nathan

Girls Who Score - Illy Goyanes

In Search of Time - Dan Falk

Skeleton Keys - Brian Switek

The Englishwoman's Bedroom - Elizabeth Dickson ed

Ghosts - Roger Clarke

Joseph Johnson - Gerald Tyson

Falling in Love with Statues - George Hersey

Necromanticism - Paul Westover (vg)

Essay on Sepulchers - William Godwin

Passions Between Women - Emma Donoghue

Women's Friendships - Susan Koppleman ed

Olivia - Dorothy Bussy

Mooncop - Tom Gauld

Persepolis - Marjane Satrapi trans Mattias Ripa

Star Wars Super Graphic - Tim Leong

Luisa Now and Then - Carole Maurel trans Mariko Tamaki and Nanette McGuiness

Daughters of the Lake - Wendy Webb

Rules for Vanishing - Kate Alice Marshall

The Outermost House - Henry Beston

Feminism and the Body - Londa Schiebinger ed

Winter in the Blood - James Welch

Capturing Sound - Mark Katz

The Table-Rappers - Ronald Pearsall

Black - Michel Pastoreau trans Jody Gladding

In These Times - Jenny Uglow

The Daylight Gate - Jeanette Winterson

The Grave Keepers - Elizabeth Byrne

Metropolitan Life - Fran Lebowitz

Life Among the Savages - Shirley Jackson

Social Studies - Fran Lebowitz

When My Brother Was an Aztec - Natalie Diaz

The Imaginary Corpse - Tyler Hayes

The Invention of the Restaurant - Rebecca Spang

Moll Cutpurse - Ellen Galford

Manchette's Fatale - Doug Headline

Hand-Drawn Jokes for Smart Attractive People - Matthew Diffee

In the Pines - Erik Kriek

Raising Demons - Shirley Jackson

Nightingale - Paisley Rekdal

Louis Riel - Chester Brown

Fantastic Metamorphoses - Marina Warner

Elektra - Derrick Puffett ed

Tenements, Towers, and Trash - Julia Wertz

Ghostland - Colin Dickey

Feminism and History - Joan Wallach Scott ed

The Hide and Seek Files - Caeia Marsh

Red Rosa - Kate Evans

A Banquet for Hungry Ghosts - Ying Chang Compestine

Death is Hard Work - Khaled Khalifah trans Lori Price

Civil War - Lucan trans Susan Braund

The Making of the Modern Body - Catherine Gallagher and Thomas Laqueur

Oculus - Sally Wen Mao

The Write Escape - Charish Reid

Freedom Hospital - Hamid Sulamin trans Francesa Barrie

The Lion of Rora - Christos Gage et al

Mauve - Simon Garfield

The Lake of Dead Languages - Carol Goodman

The Turn of the Screw - Henry James

[headoverhiddles]

Midnight Snack - Sheriff Brackett x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: You’ve had a crush on your best friend Annie’s dad since high school. Now that you’re leaving for college, things reach a boiling point... and Brackett can’t get you out of his head. 

@chari-koopa whew this was so freaking hot to write hnnng

"I really appreciate you helping with the move."

You enter Annie's house, a doorway you've been through too many times to count, and grin, grabbing you both a cider from the fridge.

"I'm not about to leave you with some creepy mover guys who'll probably try to grope you."

"Thanks, hun. You're a real pal."

You giggle and toss Annie some scissors. She cuts an empty wine box open, and the two of you get to work.

"When we get to college," Annie says, "We're gonna take the entire campus by storm."

"Like how? Like we're gonna fuck our way through the campus population?" you ask.

"Exactly," Annie nods, and you look off.

"Yeah." Annie glances over at you.

"Maybe just me. My dad won't be there, so you'll be shit out of luck."

"Guess I'll just have to make use of our last night in town."

Annie makes a face. "Do it in his squad car or something, I don't need to fucking hear that."

"What about the squad car?"

You both jump, turning to see Sheriff Brackett coming in the front. You feel a wave of arousal-- he's got the top two buttons of his uniform undone, and his aviators make him look like a force to be reckoned with. Of course, the fuzzy man underneath shows through as he takes his hat off and gives a proud smile. "Did you girls really notice? I got it in for a car wash, looks nice and shiny now."

Annie busts laughing, and you have to fight not to as well. The poor guy looks utterly clueless as Annie pats him on the back. He shakes his head.

"I'll never understand you two," he sighs, grabbing himself some water, "Just as well. Guess some things never change."

You watch him go, and Annie snaps in front of your face.

"Back to business, baby. Let's go up to my room, start on my closet."

"Right."

As you head up the stairs, the Sheriff looks back to check the clock, catching a glimpse of your tight little shorts in doing so. He looks away quickly, swallowing.

After a good solid hour and a half of working on packing up her room, Sheriff Brackett calls up that dinner's ready. 

"Well, I was gonna make some of my famous homemade potato chip and corn casserole, yes Annie-- with whole grain pasta-- but I figured to hell with that, it's your last night here at home!"

"Dad--" Annie warns, and her dad hushes her as he pops open a box on the table.

"Nice cheesy pizza! That should pack the calories on good."

You smile, taking a slice. "Thanks, Mr. Brackett."

"No sweat at all, honey."

You sigh to yourself, and Annie smirks across the table. Her dad busies himself with chowing down on the first slice. Annie sparks up conversation.

"So Paul from chem has serious big dick energy," she says to you, "I wonder if I should keep seeing him even after we start college."

You shrug. "He seems really into you. I think you should." You start to smirk. "Mr. Brackett, you have big dick energy." He looks up, startled.

"I, I what, sweetheart?"

"Don't torture him, (y/n)."

"Big dick energy," you repeat. Brackett looks absolutely baffled.

"Well, I try not to be a dick, I mean--”

“No, not like--”

Annie changes the subject. "Halloween's coming up. What are you gonna be, babe?"

"Mmmm cheerleader maybe."

"Slutty cheerleader?"

"The sluttiest."

"That's my girl, leave nothing to the imagination."

Sheriff Brackett coughs, and you kick Annie under the table with a grin.

Annie folds her hands. "Well regardless, I know my dad'll like the costume."

"Annie!" Sheriff Brackett blushes harder than you had ever seen that poor man blush as she gets up to grab the napkins. He takes a seat across from you, flustered and in a panic. "Sorry 'bout her, she's.... I don't know where she gets these... it's just so unfounded--"

You watch him stammer and go red, and at last you put him out of his misery. "It's fine."

"--Cause I just want you to know, I don't... I wouldn't--"

"Hey. I don't mind." The way you say it gives him pause, but he brushes it off.

"Okay. Well, eat up, I've got another one on the counter if we're all real hungry enough."

On one hand, you feel guilty about teasing a kind man who obviously strives to be the best possible version of himself. On the other hand, he's fucking hot, and you can't lie to yourself about how much you want him anymore. Besides, you're convinced he's got a wild side somewhere deep in there. Probably where he stores all his deepest secrets...

You're honestly surprised too, how well Annie took it that you had a crush on her dad. You had told her back in eleventh grade, when the both of you were too drunk to have any sort of filter. Of course, at first, she had been a nightmare about it-- she wouldn't speak to you for a month. She had demanded you tell her if you had slept with him, which you assured her, had never happened. Then she realized how ridiculous she was being, and had actively been trying to set you up since.

"Mr. Brackett?" You look up at him, and he looks at you, mouth full of pizza.

"Mm, yeah? What is it, sweetie?"

You reach your hand across the table, and put it on his. He swallows his food.

"I'm about to go off to college."

His eyes don't leave your hand. "True."

"And..." you bite your lip, working up the courage to tell him. "I just wanted you to know..."

Annie comes back in to set the table, and you retract your hand slowly.

 ----

After dinner, you go up to Annie's room to watch bad horror movies.

"Have you ever seen Rob Zombie's 31?" Annie asks, grabbing her remote.

"No, put it on."

Annie gets up on her bed, and looks around her bare walls, save for the TV. The finger painting of the high school principal was still there below Annie's windowsill from when Lynda had been high off her ass. The dent was still there behind Annie's headboard from when she lost her virginity. All the shit from growing up was still around, and it was bittersweet to leave it.

"Fucking weird."

You take off your shorts, looking for your pajama top. "I know, right? I basically grew up here with you."

"I'm gonna miss it, in a way. Hey, you wanna borrow one of my tops?"

"You mean Paul? He's not my type." Annie rolls her eyes, and you laugh. "I was sure I brought my cami. Lemme just check the hall for it."

You head out into the dark hallway, and kick around for the top.

Here it is. You dropped it on the top step. Bending over in your panties, you pick it up, and take your daytime top off, exposing your bra. You can change quickly before--

"Oh my god," you hear behind you, and you whip around to see Sheriff Brackett standing outside the bathroom door, toothbrush in hand. "I didn't see anything," he blurts, and you giggle, covering your breasts for his sake only.

"Like em?"

He stutters harder than a nail gun. "I, I really couldn't say..."

"Oh?"

He's not playing your game. "Goodnight, (y/n)."

"Sweet dreams, Mr. Brackett!"

"Yeah, you too."

You watch him bump into a wall, since he's got his hands over his eyes. You chance a look down to see if he's hard, but in the dark you can't tell if that's a bulge or just creases. Grinning to yourself, you put your top on, and head back to Annie's room.

"He--"

Annie holds up a hand. "Spare me the details, please. He's still my dad."

You two flick on the movie, and snuggle in.

 ----

Your eyes open. You lean over to look at the clock blearily, and see that it's 1:05 in the morning. Yawning, you look over to find the movie's special features playing, and Annie fast asleep from the day's labor. Turning back over, you realize your throat is dry. You'd have no trouble finding your way down in the dark for some water, and possibly a snackie or two. 

Down the hall, Sheriff Brackett is tossing and turning through his dream.

Fuck... your ass looks so good in his dream, in a cheerleader skirt. The skirt barely covers the bottom of it, and you're otherwise naked under a baggy Haddonfield varsity jacket, that hangs partially open.

He vaguely remembers offering to do up the buttons of the jacket, or you'll catch a chill, but he's weak. He wants you to take it all off.

God, yes...

His hand rubs down your shoulder, down your stomach, then rubs between your legs. Suddenly the setting has changed; you're bent over his squad car, tits pressed flat against the hood. He's dressed in his full sheriff's uniform, aviator sunglasses on. Anyone could drive by at any time and see just what you're doing.

"You want this, hun?" he murmurs to you in a fog of lust, rubbing his clothed cock against your ass. "Let me show you what little sluts get in my town."

"Mff," the Sheriff groans in bed, body responding to that part of the dream.

"Fuck yeah," he can hear you moan, "Fuck me so good. Fuck me, daddy, I need you inside me, teaching me a lesson."

Brackett's hips plunge forward as he rocks them, imagining how he'd keep you pressed there, telling you to take what he gives. He keeps getting harder and harder, and lets out a breathless moan as he already feels an orgasm approach. You flip onto your back, and lick your lips like a vixen, encouraging him in broad daylight.

"Come on me?"

"Unf..." Brackett mumbles into his pillow, and rocks his hips forward, pushing his cock against the mattress as he throbs for release.

"Please, please, Sheriff Brackett, sir, I've been so fuckin’ bad."

In the dream, he unzips himself, and finally opens your legs, burying himself into your tight heat on the hood of his car-

"Jesus!"

He shoots up in bed, running a hand through his mussed hair. He turns the bedside lamp on, catching his breath. Your tits still ensnare his mind, and he rubs his eyes. Then he feels the weight between his legs, and looks down to find himself with a painful erection, precum soaking through his boxers. When he has the opportunity, he sleeps commando, but on nights when Annie was home or she had guests, he doesn't for obvious reasons. He can still see the outline of his bulge though, and feel how far gone he was.

"Aw. Damn it all to hell," he grumbles, and sucks in a quick breath as the sheets brush against him. Well, at least he didn't finish all over the bedding. He had been getting pretty close there.

Images of you flash through his head, that smirk you always give him, your innocent little blink, the way you licked the sauce from your fingertips tonight, god, what he wouldn't give to see you blow him.

"You sir, need to calm down and go back to sleep," he says aloud, rubbing his eyes again, "That's your daughter's best friend."

He knew as well as any after years of experience though, that an erection like this one would not go away easily, but he could at least try to stave off taking care of it til he got up, so he could blame it on morning wood.

He gets up, out of bed, and scratches his stomach as he walks downstairs for a midnight sweet treat. Even though Annie would skewer him come morning for snacking after pizza, maybe a little sugar would help get his mind off his situation.

"Shit and carry seven," he mutters, noticing a light in the kitchen in front of him. He sees you, perfectly presented in lacy panties, bending over to grab something from the fridge. Your curves, and cute little ass throw him into another meltdown that almost sends him running back upstairs... but you turn, spoon hanging from your mouth.

"Mr. Brackett?"

He swallows, tries to appear nonchalant. "(y/n)!" He leans against the counter and crosses his legs. "What, uh, what're you doing up, sweetheart?"

You shrug sheepishly. "I was hungry. Hope you don't mind, I... had some ice cream."

He shakes his head. "I was just on my way for some myself. Don’t tell Annie-- she wants me to lose the stomach, but I figure, at my age, ice cream and sticky buns aren't such a crime."

"I think you look great," you walk toward him and rub a hand against his stomach. "I wouldn't change a thing." His breath hitches.

"Well thank you."

"So you really don't mind?" you gesture to the ice cream with a pout.

"You know anything in this place is yours too."

You lick the dripping spoon. "...Anything?"

He stops, scratches his head, and jerks a thumb back. "You enjoy the ice cream, I think I’ll--"

"Didn't you want some too?" you murmur, and walk forward with the carton. You take a spoonful, and reach it out to his mouth. He opens his lips and takes it, and you watch him lick it all off, sharp eyes never leaving you.

"Mm. Good, right?"

"Uh huh."

"You look like you'd be very talented at eating a woman out, Mr. Brackett." Your hands reach around to slide down his ass before he can blabber his way out of this one. "...When was the last time you made a woman feel real good?"

"Umm," he mumbles, transfixed by you. You feel his hips bump forward, and you take another spoonful of ice cream, licking it off yourself. Then, with the sweet taste of vanilla still in your mouth, you lean up and kiss him. He exhales desperately, hands flying to your back to squeeze you to him, and you lick along his bottom lip before getting to his tongue, sharing the taste. Your left hand reaches down to palm him in his pants, and the reaction he gives was worth the wait.

"Kiddo, I just want you to..." his voice is shaky as he breaks away. He's fighting hard to control himself, you can tell. "I just want you to be very sure of all this if we..."

"I've been wanting you to fuck me forever, sir," you tell him, "I'm pretty sure."

"Forever's a long time, (y/n)..."

"I know. That's how long I've been waiting, picturing your hands all over my body. Don't keep me waiting anymore."

He picks you up, holding you against the wall as he reaches into his boxers. You pull your panties down, then off one leg, the lacy garments hanging by a single toe. He lines up at your entrance, and kisses you again.

"Tell me to stop at any time, I'll do it, sweetie."

"I don't want you to stop," you breathe desperately, and pull yourself forward to sink down on him. The raspy groan he lets out sends shivers through you, and he grunts as he pulls back and slams back in, fucking you bent over the kitchen counter.

"Hold me down, daddy," you whine, and you swear he mumbles a 'fuck' under his breath.

"You want daddy to do this?" he coos softly, holding you down by the neck against the counter, face pressed to the side. His grip is gentle, but you love the control he has. It's so different from the way you usually see him-- this mist be what he's like on a job.

His voice is calm, level, bringing you back to earth, grounding you.

"Daddy's gonna fuck you good. Fuck you real good, sweetie, that's right..." His grip tightens, and you bite your lip hard as you roll back again and again, listening to his short grunts and drawn out groans of pleasure.

"Please... please... Mr. Brackett, oh my god," you whisper, and he braces himself on the counter, breath coming out in hard pants just like yours. You glance back, and he looks debauched, hair falling out of his tightly wound ponytail and falling around his face.

"Keep your face forward honey, you're gonna get a sore neck," he admonishes softly, and you moan, pressing your cheek to the table again.

Brackett tries to hurry up. If Annie were to ever come down and see this, she would never let him hear the end of it.

Brackett's thrusts start to get sloppy. He's trying to keep quiet, but it's hard, and you have to bite your fist. You want to moan his name, tell him how good he is.

"Grab my tits," you moan.

"W-what?"

"My tits, play with my tits," you groan, and fumbling a little, Brackett reaches forward, and massages them in his hand.

"Oh god," he mutters, and you feel your orgasm threaten to explode.

"Sweetie, sweetie, (y/n), fuck babygirl," Brackett whispers, "Babygirl, that feels so good..."

You look back, lips swollen and eyes half lidded. "May I please come, sir?"

He leans forward, mustache tickling your cheek. "You can do whatever your little heart desires, princess."

"Ohgod," you cry, and come hard on his cock. He slams his hips into you twice more, and pulls out quickly, jerking off onto your ass. You feel it hit you, and wiggle your hips a little, grinning. He sighs in satisfaction, and grabs a roll of paper towel, cleaning you up. You feel some dripping down the backs of your thighs, and he cleans that up too.

"Your pull-out game is strong, Mr. Brackett," you tease, still bent over, casually picking up the ice cream again and digging in. He looks up from where he's cleaning your ass up, eyes wide.

"My... my what?"

You giggle at his mystified expression. "Just kiss me."

He helps you stand up, and cups your cheeks, giving you the most passionate kiss you'd ever received. He sits down at the kitchen table, and you sit down on his lap, lazily making out with him. His hands feel up the curve of your back, down to your ass, then up again to caress your neck, attaching his lips and leaving a mark. You pull away, resting your forehead against his as he gently rests his hands on your hips.

"You're a sweet girl, (y/n)." 

"Just sweet?" 

"Well... I could use some other words, but that's the respectful way of putting it. That was really good," he murmurs against your lips.

"Yeah?" you smile.

"I haven't come that hard since I was your age."

You snap his waistband, handing him a spoon for the ice cream. "Let's try to outdo ourselves when I come visit for Christmas break, mmkay?"

He takes the spoon as you take yours, and you clink them together, sharing the rest of the tub.

[saigeboredeaux-blog]

( cisfemale ) haven’t seen NAEVA BARABESI around in a while. the NAOMI SCOTT lookalike has been known to be (+) STEADFAST & (+) JUDICIOUS, but SHE can also be (-) CHARY & (-) DETACHED. The 21 year old is a JUNIOR majoring in ANTHROPOLOGY. I believe they’re living in POTENTAS but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. ( james! 20. EST. she/they. )

hello hello ! i’m james and this is my baby naeva !! she’s an oldie but also ... a new..ie ?? let’s just say it’s been a hot minute since i’ve awoken her ! i’ll probably pick up another muse at some point b/c that’s Who I Am and it was already a struggle figuring out who to bring in first so jskjdflg (except ik who i’d bring in for my second muse :~) ) anyways !! let’s get right into it !

TW: implications of illness.

a e s t h e t i c s

black a-line dresses and black oxford shoes and their light tapping against polished floors, parental expectations and eyerolls beginning lectures, sunglasses under fluorescent lights and the same old tired excuses. driving drunk friends so there’s a reason to say no, laughing off backhanded remarks and clinking of glasses, that old vintage watch that no longer functions but the presence brings a comfort like no other. tossing and turning and waking up and falling asleep--vicious cycles in a battle between dreams and reality. knowledge, and the ever-ending thirst to learn more--love for the surrounding world and an undying will to live. noses in books and the peaking gazes from underneath so, curiosity peaking and a longing to feel alright in one’s skin.

general info !!

full name: naeva ornella barabesi

nickname(s): to be determined t b h

b.o.d. - september 1st, 21 yrs old, virgo

label(s): the facade, the pastiche, the prevaricator, the salubrious

height: 5′6″

hometown: lecce, italy

sexuality: brave of u to assume naeva even know

her stats can be found HERE

and her pinterest can be found HERE !!

biography !!

to those her parents boast to, naeva is a miracle child by all means. guests told that she was born perfect--silent out the womb, easy as day to care for after years of trying for child with no avail; an angel taking vessel in their baby daughter. she is born to liars.

born to old money invested in hedge funds and the vice president of an international bank, surrounded by old buildings of exquisite architectural design--the barabesi family lived lavishly. this is not a lie. their mansions and sports cars and boastful superiority is all, undoubtedly real.

a child born with ailments to last her lifetime is a precious miracle who needs to stay quiet when mommy and daddy are bragging to their guests.

being oh so fragile only meant a lack of socialization except for when it’s convenient--the endless faces of specialists, or tutors, or her parents’ friends.

they love their daughter, yes, but after years and years of building perfect empires and fitting the mold they’ve so desperately tried to label themselves--god be damned if little naeva wasn’t their golden star right from the moment she was born.

born and, for a short time, living in lecce, italy--the barabesi family soon moved to the states in pursue of the best of the best doctors. specifically, cold spring, new york.

small enough to go undisturbed, the young girl spent her time learning and learning; whether it were numbers or vague history or what to take on what days and how to turn a cough into a smile.

and being treated as far too fragile--too delicate, as if she could shatter if you so dared look at her for too long.

eventually, the vicious cycle shifted to a life manageable. though still feeling as if she walked on eggshells, naeva could attend elementary school.

sure, it was stressful--but god, it was her life; she was not a burden, no matter the circumstance and no matter what ailed her.

years passed as naeva juggled the golden child act--attending school, her parents’ little parties, her after school lessons, endless doctor appointments--a blur, in all honesty. a near comfortable routine.

it wasn’t until naeva was in high school that she got a little, well, restless

routine is good, yes--but she was a girl who wanted to live a life where she didn’t have to worry about her health.

it were small things at first, skipping class to read in the library (how very rebellious, wow) and staying out of her house as much as possible without raising suspicions--whether it was stopping at the convenience store after violin or purposely hitting as many red lights as possible.

though naeva seemed to spiral her senior year, really, that’s when it became an issue.

unraveling quickly for reasons she really couldn’t fathom, she felt as if she wasn’t living enough.

going to parties instead of the library, committing vandalism with newly acquired friends, ignoring all the don’ts that came with being her and getting just. absolutely plastered.

it was at one of these parties, a college party nonetheless--where naeva met tatiana samuels.

the girl fascinated an impressionable naeva in a way she didn’t understand--it grew into a friendship, and for the rest of the year; if tatiana was at a party, so was naeva.

but of course--reality got to the best of naeva and when her health crumbled, she withdrew. canceled her bad girl subscription; practically swore it off.

it hadn’t helped that the entire situation had thoroughly freaked out her parents, and suddenly, naeva was six again. back to the basics. this time, however, naeva thought that just maybe, it was for the best.

her parents practically forced her to attend lockwood (not that she really minded) in order to keep her close to home--even so, naeva is living as independently as she can.

personality

it’s sort of easy to mistake naeva for a very serious kinda woman; y’know, no laughs or jokes or inappropriate behavior.

it’s the air around her, really; cool, calm, and collected; aloof yet confident, eyes so dark y’can’t tell if they’re judging or commending you. always seen with a yeti in hand, undoubtedly filled with decaf coffee--booties and tights and tasteful blazers. she’s your fourth grade substitute teacher that wouldn’t let you talk during free time.

but well, it’s a mistake.

she’s responsible and rational and work-oriented but god, does she value humor and amusement and all the good little things in life.

maybe she’s not the funniest person around, but she’ll attempt banter with you--and if you’re passionate about something she’ll hear you out; hell, she’ll support your excitement, maybe even share some of her own passions. naeva is constantly amused, even if her mouth’s set in a hard line.

she studies anthropology because of her love for human life and culture; her minor’s in sociology for god’s sake. naeva loves life, loves liveliness, loves people who feel intensely--naeva’s got a lot of love in her.

it’s a shame she’s so afraid to let people in.

don’t get it wrong--she’ll cozy right up to you but...is she really? or is she just letting you see what she wants you to see? it pains her, as somebody who feels so much, to act so...distant? she by no means gives off a cold air, but she’s the kind of gal you know without really knowing.

god, naeva is so scared. it hurts, sometimes, how scared shitless she is--the events happening in lockwood, secrets being revealed--the possibility that hers will be one day out in the opened without her consent. she just wants to live her life. she really, really, just wants to live.

‘course, she keeps it very very contained. her friends must not know how goddamn stressed she is, at all times of the day--the woman hates pity. she’s been pitied since birth. she wants no more of it.

it’s precisely why she keeps her medical history so hidden. she isn’t ashamed of her life, no, she’s alive and that’s what matters--but the pity. imagined or not--the thought of it is unbearable. maybe it’s silly, maybe a little too irrational for a girl considered so...rational, but, she can’t help it.

it’s not anybody’s business anyway--she tells herself, at least--

it’s led to her lying a lot--unnecessary, but she panics often--when she disappears from school for an extended amount of time, it’s because of family drama or events or public appearances or whatnot.

which, sometimes really gets to her--she’s supposed to be dependable, reliable, trustworthy--goddammit, and she can’t even do that. she’s just a girl with a lot of excuses up her sleeve and one day she’s going to run out.

don’t get her wrong though ! she’s not a passive person, y’know, just because she can be quiet and distant. if she sees an injustice she will speak out about it--she’s got a lot of opinions, and is pretty much ready to attack you with words.

tl;dr - kind and a Pal whilst keeping a distance--always stressed but [laugh track] you’ll never know. she’s also a big nerd when it comes to cultures and just. learning in general. loves history and sociology and anthropology and all that. like...a mom friend? very responsible, will be the designated driver Always and take care of you, it’s just...you only really know what she wants you to know, and she’s a lil bit of a liar. Big Smart, is always amused. not as serious as you’d think.

OH! and she’s very noncommittal in the relationship-sense. like...she’s probably dated around a little bit but the longer it lasts the more tense she gets and more often than not she breaks things off.

disclaimer!

illnesses can be a very sensitive topic and i promise i’m not being vague about it without reason: i’ll be going into it for a task. i’m always cautious on how i portray it, so please let me know when and where i can better myself if something feels off ! the last thing i want to do is come off as inaccurate.

i also was going to do a fun fact/headcanon section but my brain? big dumb and i literally forgot everything i wanted to write so lmao. one of these days, expect a lil headcanons thing. but for now ...

OH! here’s a fun fact! she’s rich as FUCK. that is all, good day.

wanted connections

god give me everything

like i’m really up for anything.

give her a best friend! somebody who really truly knows her

or somebody who Thinks they really know her tehehehfgjfghj

let her mom friend others! be the parental figure in this relationship!

fake friends b/c she’s got money.

study buddies!

people she tutors!

somebody who lets her be a lil’ wild, loosen up.

on the other end: let her keep somebody rooted! a good influence.

ex partners! on good or bad terms??

hook ups! one night stands! fwbs!

ex-hookups ! one night stands that lead to awkward encounters

a thorn in her side, an absolute Annoyance.

on the other hand, let me use naeva to badger your characters. let Her be the annoyance.

enemies? for whatever reason ??

on-and-off-agains!

will they won’t they?

ex-friends! ex-friends trying to fix their friendship!

tense relationships!

oh, your mail keeps getting mixed with mine ?? wth ?? we don’t even have similar names ??

conspiracy theory buds!

STOP running INTO ME on ur morning JOGS u PRICK i’m trying to WALK HERE

purposely stealing the last like...breakfast sandwich in the food court just to be that asshole

bickering. just lots of bickering.

somebody who is just suspicious of naeva’s lil lies n is like HMM and she’s like OH NO U DON’T

somebody she rly wants to be close with but just :) refuses :)

anything unrequited. anything one-sided. love or hate or platonic idc i want it all.

pls n thank.

like this n i’ll msg you of course !!