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gryphis-eyes · 2 years

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⊙ La Tempérance

2022 PAC

Welcome to your reading pile 3 ! I wish you the best for the year of 2022 and hope this reading will help you. Remember to read the intro on the main post of this PAC in order to understand how it work and just get the general info. ⊙

• Your Major Arcana from the Egyptian deck is The Temperance

In 2022 you’ll really feel like the main character omg during your reading I felt like listening to epic ost. You achieved a lot during the last year I feel like you’ll have a lot of energy for 2022, this year might be a bit slow or ”too calm” but it’s because you’ll be free to experience anything you want but at the same time you’ll need to keep balance. If the last year(s) were difficult and sad, this one is here to make you experience peace and happiness, of course there will be some challenge because it’s life but you’ll have the energy and passion to overcome those problem as long as you chose to be happy. Stress and bad habits will be defeated for this year and I truly want to say congratulation for everything you’ve done pile 3 I feel like you come back from war. For those of you who have an eating disorder you might start to heal from it and for those who don’t have an e.d you’ll probably eat more healthy, maybe go vegan for some of you.

” Child of the Earth, know that the good path is always the one in the middle. Don’t eat too much but don’t eat too little, don’t love too much but don’t love too little. Think objectively about your habits and limits, avoid excess. ”

⊙ Sun, The Self

Ace of pentacles, The Hermit, Let go of control

You’ll be a real Hermit like those characters in stories who are very powerful and prosperous that live alone. Since you’ll be so healed and stable won’t see the issue in being that hermit you’ll be your own best friend but remember to not isolate yourself even if I feel like you won’t need anyone during this year ! You’ll take care of yourself and your foundation while going with the flow because you know ”something” got your back. You might get money from your passion or just get new opportunity when it come to material gain. People might often come to you for advices because damn look at how far you’ve come !

Moon, Healing and Emotions

4 of swords R, King of wands R, Learning

You’ll mostly learn from your past mistakes by letting go of control you might refuse to hear stuff like ”divine timing” you want to know everything about the futur, your futur spouse, next week, next day, next year. You’ll understand it’s not how things go and that the only thing that you do need to control is yourself and your habits. You’ll become more mature and stop staying in your comfort zone or just stop always hesitating to make the next move. Even if you’ll have some days were those bad habits come back you won’t feel guilty about it you’ll just accept what it is and try to understand where this inbalance that make you do that come from in order to find a solution.

Mercury, Career and Study

Queen of Cups, Magician R, Think about other people

Since you’ve become so good on your own you might refuse to get help from other some of you might even be arrogant I feel like this part is related to the moon part because it also talk about healing. You’ll learn that you can’t always do everything alone and it’s ok to ask others for help some of you will probably meet new friend(s) by doing that. You have the quality of a leader but don’t become a dictator, people look up to you but it doesn’t mean they are ”less” that you, you might need to get down a bit. I feel like this queen of cups can be both an advice and that new friend. She advices you to be more gentle and nice to people, if it represent your futur friend it is someone with the same quality they are very sweet and nurture their loved one a lot. I got a lot of different message from this part omg, the last one could be that you are the Queen of cups and you should be aware that not everyone got good intention you might meet a new boss or teacher or just someone who will try to take advantage of your kindness. Make them remember that you have boundaries and let them fall in their own shit.

Venus, Love

Ace of Wands, 2 of Pentacles, It’s a good thing for you

So divine timing it is alright, alright this part will be very short. The cards are telli’g me that love can be your reward if you decide to keep this balance in your life and follow the advices that you’ll receive during 2022. A new passionate begining will be offered to you, I heard ”this could be the one” even if im giving you a good omen remember to take a step back and really reflect if this person is good for you or just to look at the red flag(s). I feel like a lot of you will go to parties or just dance a lot with your friend group, I mostly get the vibe from a group of girl but y’know bad bitch gang. For the ones who aren’t big fan of parties you might play a lot of video games with your friend or you might meet people online.

Mars, Strength

The Wheel Of Fortune, The Well, Stop lying to yourself

You’ll find strength by simply regaining it by taking rest you might be used to overwork yourself and just wait to be exhausted to take a break but not in 2022, you know when to stop, when you should go. You’ll see the difference between your ego being lazy and what you truly have to do, be consistent but allow yourself some day when you just do nothing. It’s like your higher self will be the one that will tell you through your intuition when you should stop or you’ll have a lot of free time during 2022, remember to use it at your advantage.

Jupiter, Divine

6 of Swords, 2 of Wands, A new alternative for you

This one seem related to The wheel of fortune from the previous part, the divine, spirits or whatever you believe in will offer you the opportunity to travel wether it is for vacation or get a new place to live far away from where you are now. It is your destiny to go over here and you might meet a lot of new people (and spirits ?) This place (even if it won’t look very charming for some of you), is going to be full of opportunity in a lot of area in life and of course, full of blessing. For those of you who are into spirituality/witchcraft you’ll discover a new path for you and for a small amont of you a new spirit will come to you as an opportunity to make you evolve more or help to stay into balance.

Saturn, Obstacles

4 of wands R, Queen of Pentacles, Focus on yourself

You might not be used to finally be free from others in the past you were the one who helped everyone instead of you. You can help people but remember to put yourself and your happiness first. Things will change during 2022 and you’ll need to keep grounded and to avoid panic or avoid falling in hold habits that you got rid of because it will be veeery tempting sometimes. Also don’t lower your standards and boundaries !

Additional message : when I was shuffling your card I was always thinking of 2023 so I think it will be a very important year for you and 2022 will be the foundation.

#⊙#pile 3 #you got the most pretty pile 👀👀#Aesthetic

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 3 years

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Humans are Space Orcs, “Maladaptive Coping.”

This idea was given to me by a good friend of mine

*WARNING* This issue of Krill’s journal contains literally ALL of the things that might bother you. Every self destructive behavior I could think of is mentioned in this piece. So PLEASE do not read it if there is even the slightest chance that it may bother you. I wont list everything here, and trust you to make your own decision on weather it is a good idea for you to read this or not.

Also, a important note is that this is from an aliens perspective, and so does not contain every last nuance of these behaviors and the reasons behind them. I hope those of you who read a great day, and those who don’t read a great day as well! :)

The Journal of Xenomedical Biology

Author: Dr. Krill of the Vrul

The Human Manifestation of Self destructive Tendencies and Their Signs.

Over the past few years of studying and learning to understand humans, It has come to the attention of the medical community that humans are the most volatile species, psychologically. This is not meant as negative commentary on human issues as it might seem, but merely an observation that humans have the most widely varied pattern of psychological maladaptive responses when it comes to stress and related mental illness. Where each other species tends to have only two or three typical maladaptive responses, humans have been known to have analogous representations of all known mental abnormalities.

Now this journal is not specifically about all the ways the human brain can go wrong, but more accurately about the maladaptive response I have seen in humans over the past few years primarily demonstrating self destructive behaviors in one way or another.

You might notice an interesting pattern in my analysis today that clearly demonstrates a repetitive contradictory pattern in human self destructive tendencies, which will demonstrate just how varied and widely differing their responses can be.

First, humans have socially destructive behavior.which can come in many forms.

Withdrawal: from friends or close loved ones is a common self destructive behavior to look for in humans. This can happen on a large or small scale where the human withdraws for hours or even years. As a social species, humans find social interaction important, even if that is only remote communications with other humans. If that human begins to withdraw suddenly or even gradually over time, I might suggest being concerned about their well- being.

Now here is where the contradictions come into play, and forgive me if some of these social behaviors also overlap with the physical behaviors, with humans, they are often one in the same.

Increased socially dangerous behavior: now this may account for many things. Some humans will fall into a downward spiral where they surround themselves with other like minded humans and participate in dangerous physical activities, which I will discuss later

Increased partners: Now, while this behavior may be common for many humans, and could be argued as a physical behavior, there is cause for concern if a human suddenly increases the number of physical partners from their average. This usually accompanies reckless social behavior like not meeting the partner first before entering into a physical relationship, doing this on multiple occasions and might also be connected with the following -

Staying with an objectively horrible partner: now it is hard to identify why some humans do this, but often humans will choose a partner who is objectively horrible to them either physically or emotionally. Sometimes humans do this because they are afraid of the repercussions, are afraid of being alone, or they have been convinced that there is no other possible person out there who might love them. Humans put a lot of stock into physical relationships and many of them would rather be with someone horrible than be alone. Due to their social nature many humans put social interaction and partnership over their safety and mental health. If you see a human participating in this behavior, it is advised to get them help,even if the human does not want it. They deserve more than being treated horribly.

Now on occasion two humans in a downward spiral might come together and create a codependent relationship where they cannot function without one another. What the other human does the oher will follow and this can lead them both into a spiral of horrible physical and mental behaviors that will cause anguish in the long term. If one of them is involved with drugs, the other will follow etc.

Now some humans might even participate in self destructive behaviors that look good from an outside perspective. For instance, it is a common occurrence that humans overwork themselves to the point of burnout. Often humans throw themselves into their work to distract their minds and avoid the pain of something else, thi may include memories or having to return to an environment where they do not wish to go. These humans will work many hours and sacrifice their social lives to do more work, causing long term stress that can lead to heart attack stroke and other physical diseases related to increased stress and heightened blood pressure. Some humans may participate in this behavior as a way to prove themselves to others, that they are either competent or hard working.

On the flipside of this there are other humans who may just stop working at all. They let everything in their lives fall apart, and stop doing anything of note causing them to lose their jobs, their hobbies, their families and their friends. This one is often related to a withdrawal from other people and might include elements of physical recklessness like drug abuse.

Secondly and including a much wider range of self destructive behaviors, we see the physical manifestations of this phenomenon which vary widely and tend to come in opposing pairs..

Overheating and undereating: are two very common forms of stress response from humans. If humans have conditioned to see food as a reward for behavior or as a comforting mechanism (oten developed in childhood) they will eat in order to comfort themselves and to the point where it is adversely affecting their physical health. They may eat even if they are not hungry or if they are actively full. Some humans experience digestive issues while under stress and may even refuse to eat at all. There are other extreme cases where humans, usually in response to a perceived lack of control, will regulate their food intake to the point of starvation or other food related disorders.

This is closely related to over exercising, and also has links with a perceived lack of control in their life. These humans, often paired with restricted eating, will push themselves to their physical limit to control their own bodies as a form of having a hold on their own lives. This paired with restricted calories can cause an untold amount of damage both physically and metnally. Mental disorders linked to these behaviors are known to be the most deadly of disorders known to humans.

The consumption of Drugs and Alcohol

This is a very common and often overlooked behavior in humans. Drinking is the consumption of beverages that contain Ethanol, which when reacting in the human brain causes, extreme mental degradation related to fuzziness and euphoria. Humans find this a pleasant feeling though it causes damage to many internal structures most primarily the liver. Unfortunately drinking is seen as a socially acceptable behavior with humans and so excessive drinking is often caught too late or not called out at all. These humans may drink from the beginning to the end of the day and will build up a tolerance to alcohol amounts that would kill another human. They build up an immunity to the point where they need larger and larger doses to feel the same effects. They will often neglect their social connections including friends and family for a chance with the bottle.

This is the same with other illicit drugs, which may have even more severe effects on the person and my lead to drug induced psychosis. Both substances are highly addictive to the point where a human may commit horrible acts like murder, robbery, etc to get the drugs that they crave. This is usually in response to some sort of mental anguish they are trying to drown out but may be related to them becoming hooked on drugs they needed after surgery. On rare occasions, this behavior began in conjunction with destructive social behaviors which lead them down into a spiral.

Excessive partying is often paired with drug use and an increased amount of intimate partners. Many humans who have fallen into this spiral might refuse to admit that they are spiraling at all. Generally limited use of a substance can be acceptable for a human, but there are plenty of other chemicals that should not be consumed at all.

There are even some drugs that are known to be mild on the user but may cause emotional dependence. These drugs are not known to cause physical dependance, but the human can convince themselves that they require the drug to function emotionally during the day and will neglect their family, friends and lives in order to spend more time with their drug of choice Again you will see the withdrawal from social contacts as an extreme warning sign in humans.

Sleeping too much or not sleeping at all:A human getting enough sleep is important for their mental health but sleeping too much is proven to throw off circadian rhythms and increase chances of depression or worsening depression. Humans require an amount of sleep that is no more or no less than what they need. Many humans will claim to not be getting enough sleep because they feel tired, when in reality their oversleeping causes grogginess and reduced amount of energy though it might seem counter intuitive. On the other hand humans might refuse to sleep at all, instead occupying their time with some other activity. It is important to remember though that an inability to sleep might also be insomnia, and the human hs no choices in the matter. I find that humans, in general, are horrible at regulating a proper healthy sleep schedule.

Participation in dangerous hobbies. Now, I understand that this is common for many humans and does not indicate self destructive behavior, but I would consider noting when a human suddenly involves themselves in dangerous hobbies after not participating for a long time, especially when that human is not careful and doesnt take time to properly consider safety protocols.

Another very common one is humans causing intentional physical harm to themselves. This comes in levels of severity and I would say that most humans do this to some degree or another. Often these are connected to nervous ticks or even learned behaviors from childhood. This can include, picking scabs, biting nails, picking at the skin of the thumbs or the lips, pilling hair, and biting the inside of the cheeks. These smaller behaviors are usually minor and do not require attention, they may cause scarring but are not generally connected to extreme mental anguish.

However, these behaviors can escalate dramatically to the use of knives and razors. This behavior is EXTREMELY maladaptive and indicates severe mental anguish and trauma and must be addressed immediately. These behaviors might escalate and be linked to loss of life by the human’s own hand. I have not witnessed this personally, and I never intend to as I keep a very close eye on my humans.

#HUMANS ARE WERID #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are insane #humans are deathworlders #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia #humans are space oddities

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grogu-pascal · 3 years

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Yearn | Din Djarin/Reader

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN // ALL WORKS

Excerpt: Din was a quiet man back then, emerging from one hideaway on the ship only to quickly scurry along to another. You had cut him slack for his awkwardness, chalking it up to his unfamiliarity with you. Now you knew it was because he felt like a pervert.

Mature | 1.7k Words | Din Djarin x Reader

Tags: cultmember!din, heavy yearning from din, unhealthy relationships, wet dreams, masturbation, teasing, fantasizing, domestic fluff, daddy kink but not in that way, breeding kink, possible cannibalism from grogu; only time will tell, not beta’d

When you first began working on the Crest, you were responsible for waking Grogu in the mornings. If undisturbed, the child would sleep until mid-day, a bad habit not easily corrected once learned. If Din woke from his rest to find you still in bed, he would simply wake the child as you slept. Rather than admit he was being easy on you because he liked you, he convinced himself that you weren't slacking off, just having a hard time adjusting to your new surroundings.

Din was a quiet man back then, emerging from one hideaway on the ship only to quickly scurry along to another. You had cut him slack for his awkwardness, chalking it up to his unfamiliarity with you.

(Now you knew it was because he felt like a pervert).

It lasted for a while, the cat-and-mouse between you. But rounding your second month working for him, it began to offend you. He rarely spoke; never addressing you by name and almost never directing his gaze towards you. When you pieced together that his reactions stemmed from nervousness, you suddenly found the way he fumbled over his words amusing. Almost enjoyed the way he shifted in his seat when you got too close. (And his buttons were easy enough to press: even the slightest brush against him could spur a coughing fit).

Din, however, had not felt the same way. The way he fell apart around you embarrassed him. In his mind, his actions around you were transparent. He was constantly worried that somehow you would find out about all of the filthy thoughts that plagued his mind. They were unprofessional at the least, and disrespectful at the most forgiving.

He could hardly help himself. Every attempt at self-restraint was met with a bigger hurdle to cross. There was something so erotic about watching you flitter about his ship, taking care of his child, and bandaging his wounds. You had never been inappropriate with him and maybe that was worse. For if you had been trying to seduce him, at least he could explain away his constant desire for you. The trurh was that you had never done or said anything to him unrelated to your job description. And so he was left carrying the burden of self-pity.

He found brief success in mind-over-matter tactics: pushing back his impure thoughts when they arose. If they confronted him still, he would simply leave your presence until they subsided. But this was not permanent. After a while, he found that even when he was alone, images of you plagued his mind. Your legs spread on his bed. You, bent over the kitchen counter. Your lips begging his name, over and over.

For weeks after first welcoming you onto the Crest, Din resisted the urge to palm himself in the 'fresher. It became a routine for him: lathering and rinsing slowly, fighting the urge to bury his cock in the crook of his hand, imagining that his fist was your warmth instead. Beyond the obvious disrespect wrought in masturbating to his hired help, to become so weak at the thought of another did not adhere to his creed. Besides the thoughts he had of you on your knees with his cock in your mouth, he also found himself... yearning. He daydreamed of holding you closely. Running his fingers through the silk of your hair. Feeling your lips tickle against his stubble. It had become a distraction. He knew he had to stop feeding his mind with possibilities of you two.

With this in mind, the mandalorian took no conscious action to relieve himself at your expense.

But it happened more than once that he woke with come-stained sheets from rutting against his bed in his sleep. The adjacent dreams threw him deeper into his pit of shame. The first time it happened, he carried his sheets to the refresher in the dead of night, urgently washing away any evidence that he had spilled seed. You woke up confused to find him cleaning laundry. When you asked what he was doing, he doubled over, thankful that his back was to you. He muttered a strained, "nothing" and a "go back to bed," and you were dismissed.

For you to have so nearly seen his spend made his cock ache into the night.

Hunger as intense as he felt for you could only serve as an interference to his duties. He could not serve both his desires, and The Way. And he had already made a promise to his tribe. Any such arrangement with you could only serve as a derailment of that. So he tried to rationalize his desires away: too much of a distraction, too big of a conflict of interest, too... uninterested in him. Those three things were enough for him to keep away for you. Until the third proved untrue.

Din had a day off, having caught the bounty earlier than expected. He decided to spend it with you. Or as close as he could get to you without feeling feverish and lustful.

Which, of course, meant secluding himself in his bedroom.

He had kept to himself most of the day, declining your invitation to breakfast as you nervously backtracked—you hadn't meant to walk in on him in a state of undress. He was helmetless and out of respect (and a healthy helping of fear), your eyes darted down instead, eyes widening at his bulge in the pants hung loosely from his hips.

He wore no shirt, body taut and littered with scars. A fresh wound bared your bandage, and you remembered biting your lips as you worked, tempted to take a look at the skin underneath your bare palms.

You fumbled for words in the doorway of his quarters, cheeks hot and heartbeat skipping. You were eager to explain away your invitation and in no way equipped to do so in your current state. Of course he can't join you for breakfast, you dummy, you had thought. How the fuck is he supposed to eat with his bucket on?

"I didn't mean like... in front of me," you stuttered, eyes scurrying to look anywhere but the front of his pants. "Just like—” you started again. It felt like your throat was closing. "I-I can bring it in if you want."

He did not respond.

Eager to fill the silence, you continued, "I made bantha-butter pancakes and those little eggs. Y'know," you gestured, "the frog ones? That Grogu likes?"

"I'll get some after," he offered. Something electric climbed down your bones at the sound. His voice was like heaven without the modulator, all rich and dark and velvety. You considered staying in his doorway longer; spouting nonsense just to hear him speak again. Instead you nodded and turned to leave. For the first time, he had been the calm one, and you, the erratic fluster of energy.

"Thank you," he added as you crossed the threshold of the door. You didn't reply. Your mouth was too full with embarrassment. You simply turned to close the door behind you.

You spent the rest of that morning replaying his voice over and over and over again. If only you had known how sweet your own voice had been to hear without hyper-filtering.

A short while later, Din made his way down to grab breakfast, but stopped short of entering the kitchen. Your voice echoed out of the door, intermingled with the child's coos. He paused there a beat too long in an effort to make out what you were saying. He hadn't set out with the intention to pry on your conversation, but had quickly shifted course, wanting to relish in the moment between you and the child.

Din turned off the vocoder in his helmet, fiddling with the controls within to turn up voice perception. He was positioned around the corner in such a way that he could see you just over your back: Grogu was scooped into your lap as you two sat cross-legged on the floor. Between sentences, you scooped a mouthful of eggs into the child's mouth, excess collecting at the frame of his lips before you gathered it back on the spoon to feed him again.

Mando had voiced his disdain for the way you spoiled the child so: and feeding him and carrying him about the Crest. Of course you knew it wasn't wise to baby the child, but your heart ached for him. You were alone once, too. Abject from touch and affection. You understood how that could affect a child.

So in a not-so-shocking move, you ignored Mando's directions and lavished Grogu with praise and hugs and kisses anyways. And the weird green toad-baby made sure to return his own affections, babbling at you lovingly and showing off force-tricks.

Your voice carried out of the kitchen, hushed and warm as you continued your conversation. Din watched as you raised a spoonful of food to the child’s lips, "maybe your daddy will take us to get some fruit today, hmm?" you said.

At that, Din felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Heat rushed from his bucket to his member, pants tightening nearly instantly. His breathing stuttered as his fingers gripped at the metal of the ship, pressing his back against it to steady his balance.

"Would you like that?" you mused to the child, unaware of the mandalorian's presence outside of the door. Din struggled to hear you in this new position, so he turned the volume up once more. “If he's still resting,” he heard you say, “Mommy can just take you."

A groan rumbled in his chest. He thanked the stars that he had muted his vocoder. Shame temporarily forgotten, his hand flew to his cock, palming gently with closed eyes as his mind raced. Unfiltered desire shot straight through him at the thought of making you a mother for real. You always took such good care of Grogu, busying yourself with developmental activities and schooling and Din could keep you even busier.

His thoughts begun to color with greed. He could fuck a litter into you, start a clan. Fuck you into his bed and never let you leave the Crest. Make you yearn for him as badly as he had been yearning for you. First he'd need permission from the—

A loud bang interrupted his thoughts and his hand ripped from his trousers. His posture shot up straight, fueled by the adrenaline that suddenly courses through him. He scurried away hastefully, retreating to his quarters. What would you have thought if you caught him snooping? How would he have ever convinced you to be with him then?

Thanks for reading! This will be a multi-chapter fic. Respond to this post or send an ask to have me put you on a tag list or follow the story on my ao3.

#tommywrites

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hazzoranstories · 3 years

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Malachai Parker | Smutty ABCs

A/N: The categories are inspired by fpwrites on tumblr, but the ideas are mine

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It's smutty ABCs, so it's obviously very dirty.

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A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

Despite being a whole ass psychopath, Kai is always worried about your wellbeing after sex. It doesn't matter if he's soft or full-on pounding into you, but he still has to ask for reassurance. He usually holds you close to him and won't let go until you slip away.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of their's and also their partner's)

His favorite part of his body is his hands. That may sound like a basic answer, but his magic comes from his hands, and he likes to think he gives you magic through them as well. His favorite body part of yours is your fingers. He loves when they grip the bed sheets or claw at his back. Also, how little and petite they are compared to his.

C = Cum (Where they like to come / what they like to cum from)

Even though a murderous psycho probably doesn't want kids any time soon, he can't help but love to come inside you. The euphoric feeling of filling you up and having someplace for his cum to go other than onto your stomach. But, if you truly don't want him to cum inside (which is almost never), then he won't. Or if you forgot to take your birth control that day.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory)

He doesn't mind being called his full name during sex because it sounds much more mature than just Kai. He desperately hates the name but coming from your lips in a whimper sounds much better than he could ever imagine.

E = Experience (How experience are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

Considering he was locked in a prison world for 18 years, Kai doesn't have much experience before that. He wasn't a virgin thanks to high school, but he wasn't a fuck boy. But like many things, he learned quickly.

F = Favorite Position (Again. Self-explanatory)

Lazy doggy style because in regular doggy style, he can't see anything except your backside. But this way, he gets to kiss your neck and whisper what he's going to do to you in your ear. Everything he has access to.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

He is usually more serious and sometimes frightening, but if it's passionate and slow sex, he's looser to smiles and sentimental actions.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they?)

He never really paid immense attention to his body hair and doesn't care to trim every day. He only does if he's uncomfortable or if it's excessive.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment?)

Everything varies with Kai. One moment he could be all sweet kisses and hugs, while the next, he could be holding you down by your throat. But most of the time, he doesn't care for intimacy and encourages you to stop sharing it during sex. Unless you're having a bad day or not feeling like being dominated, then he'll drop his huge ego and pleasure you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Kai masturbates a lot more than the normal boyfriend should have to. His sex drive is pretty high, and he often displeases you when he's violent. And whenever he goes too far, you don't feel like sex, so he has to solve his problem himself.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Choking and praising

L = Location (Favorite place to . . . . ya know)

The car. That's all I'm gonna say.

M = Motivation (What turns them on?)

Kai likes when you're sassy. He loves it when you're feisty with other people, but he can't stand when you are to him. No one would dare stand up to him, and having you cross your arms or try to look innocent when you know your not is irresistible.

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do. Turn offs)

He banned you from touching yourself because he's always down to fuck you. He hates to think that you have to go to another resort to please yourself when he's right there. It makes his ego go way down along with his self-esteem in his skills.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers receiving because he gets to see your hands around his length. He also gets to tangle his in your hair. He doesn't mind giving because he likes to see you come undone, but he would rather fuck you than do foreplay. But whenever he does eat you out, it's like heaven. For someone who doesn't do it often, he sure is amazing with his tongue.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

Like I said before, Kai can change in seconds. But most of the time, he fucks you till you cry. Unless you are not in the mood for that, then he'll treat you how you want. It all depends on how you're feeling.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He will for sure have a quickie if you two don't have the time, especially if he's frustrated and needs a small distraction.

R = Risk (Are they down to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

It depends on what your ask of him. He will gladly try anything revolving around domination over you, but if it's something like sex in a public place, he's a little more hesitant. He wants you all to himself and no one else.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long can they last)

Kai can usually go for a long time because he doesn't waste time teasing himself, making him less needy. He can go for 3 rounds at the least and will even spend the entire night fucking you over and over again if you'd let him.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Kai owns things like handcuffs, blindfolds, and zip ties but nothing extreme. He only buys stuff to dominate you and would never think to use them on himself. But despite having them, he only uses them when you two have a lot of time and are up for teasing yourselves.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

I've said this many times; Kai doesn't like teasing. He's okay with occasional things such as blow jobs, eating you out, or fingering, but he likes getting to the best part instead of stalling.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds do they make)

Kai is rather loud compared to his massive ego to be in control. He never shies away from telling you how good you make him feel and has some of the deepest and loudest groans you have ever heard.

W = Wild Card (A random and rather unexpected desire to the untrained eye)

One of his fantasies is to fuck you on a pool table in an empty bar. With you two trying new positions you've never thought of doing and after you're done at the pool table, you guys keep going at it all around the bar.

X = X-Ray (How pretty are they down there? Do they lie, or is it straight and utter facts?)

He likes to say he's 8 inches, but you've cracked his ego by measuring and saying it's 7 instead.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is pretty high, which surprises people because most would think that a serial killer wouldn't have time for fucking every few days, but they'd be wrong.

Z = ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Once you both decide it's the last round, you cuddle up next to each other, both exhausted and sweaty. In just minutes, he's passed out on your chest.

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agentdouble0 · 3 years

Text

I posted something HERE About Bobby going up to Eddie and slapping him and basically calling him an idiot. I had every intention to write a fic with him doing that. But instead, this happened.

Bobby knows something is brewing between Buck and Eddie the day they remove the grenade from Charlie’s leg. At first, he was worried because Buck was not exactly subtle in his distaste with Eddie. Then the grenade happened and all sudden they were inseparable, literally. Half the time on calls, they naturally just paired up. So, he sees the writing on the walls, the subtle looks and in some cases lingering looks. Then there is the lack of personal space and the fact that Buck has been helping Eddie Co-Parent Christopher. So, when Eddie mentions an Ana, he is genuinely confused and perhaps he read everything wrong. Except Buck and Eddie keep doing that thing where they look at each other.

So, when they have a moment, he has a whole speech prepared. Have hope it is okay to move on. Of course, you are always going to miss Shannon and perhaps always will. But that does not mean you should not give up on what’s in front of you. To miss out on something real, that could mean something. He doesn’t outright say Buck, but Eddie should know he’s talking about Buck. They spend an excessive amount of time together; he couldn’t be more straightforward than that. Besides why the hell would Eddie assume he’s talking about Ana, for god sakes he looks at Buck as if he hung the moon.

Except, Eddie goes out to breakfast with Ana and then he finds out about Buck’s failed date. And some of the members of the 118 have lost hope in their place in the bet. But Bobby isn’t deterred, and Hen remains determined. Chimney begs if he can back out and have his money back but then changes his mind, when the boys argue over who gets the net gun when they get a call about a turkey on the loose.

So, when Eddie mentions that he has another date lined up with her and that Buck is babysitting he has half a mind to strangle the man because, he’s got fifty bucks riding on this thing and really Eddie can’t be that obtuse and how can Buck also be missing the signs. Because Buck is now getting all cozy with Taylor and perhaps, they were all wrong, except they don’t stop with the eye contact and the touching. Then he hears about what happened with Christopher and he thinks to himself, “This is it, this is when they are going to realize that they love each other.” But then he hears about Eddie introducing Christopher to Ana and Buck is at his doorstep, shoulders hunched, and Bobby feels like he wants to punch someone. He loves Buck like a son and knows that Athena feels the same way. And seeing his son looking so heartbroken, hurts. “Buck,” he says softly.

“I uhh…I’m sorry,” Buck says, voice hoarse, “I didn’t know if-I’m..oh jeez Bobby I’m in love with Eddie and I am freaking out!”

Well crap. Now he feels a little ashamed about his spot in the 118 Buddie Bet.

He’s glad that May and Harry are with their dad before he embraces Buck in a hug and Athena is pulling Buck into the house and ushering him onto the couch. They both work in tandem, Athena covering Buck in a blanket and Bobby pushing a mug of hot cocoa into Buck’s hand. Buck doesn’t say a word, just stares a hole into the floor. “Buck, baby,” Athena says, “do you want to tell us what happened?”

Buck shakes his head, inhaling deeply before letting out a shaky breath. Then Buck is rambling, voice rising on the verge of sounding hysterical, “Do I have to right now, I don’t want to right now, I just figured this out right now and I think it’s always been there and now I don’t know what to do with information and I really just-”

“Buck, Buck!” Bobby yells alarmed, “It’s okay, it’s okay!” as he takes the mug from the man’s hands it to Athena and gathers Buck into his arms in a tight hug. He doesn’t much else, just lets the younger man let it all out. It doesn’t take long before he feels Buck’s breathing even out indicating that he’s fallen asleep. With some help from Athena, Bobby manages to slip out from under Buck and they lay him down onto the couch. Athena places a gentle kiss on Buck’s temple before covering him with a blanket and they both retire for the night.

Buck is gone before they wake up the next morning, the blanket folded on the couch with a note, laying on top: Sorry for coming in late and thank you for letting me stay the night. Please, please don’t tell anyone. Love, Buck. When Bobby tries to flag Buck down the next morning, he tells him, “I don’t want to talk about it, not right now.” So, Bobby leaves him alone and he watches as Buck pulls away from Eddie. And he watches Eddie’s face turn from confusion to sadness as the day drags on. Great, just great.

Hen and Chimney have noticed the tension and so have the other firefighters. Buck starts sitting next to Hen rather than Eddie when they sit down to eat. During calls Buck requests if he can drive, or even sit in the front seat. The last straw was Buck grabbing Chimney by the arm and dragging him down the stairs saying it was important, after he saw Eddie walking towards him. They all find out later that the very important topic was whether the baby would enjoy a stuffed giraffe or a stuffed elephant as from Uncle Buck. And this question is very important because this stuffed animal could be the baby’s best stuffed animal friend.

So, here they are now in the locker room, just Buck and Eddie. Anytime Buck tries to escape, Eddie anticipates his every move. They seem to be keeping their voices low, but Bobby can tell that Buck is wanting out, by the way his hands keep shaking at his side and opening and closing into a fist. “Come on Buck,” he can hear Eddie says as he jogs closer to the locker room, “just, can you tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it? Please?”

“It’s fine Eddie, it’s not you-”

“Oh, don’t give me that it’s not you it’s me bull shit!” Eddie shouts

“But Eddie, I swear it’s just, I got a lot going on and I just, I need time.”

“I get that, but Buck, you won’t even look at me or even sit next to me? Did I do something wrong?”

Buck shakes his head, “No, um you didn’t”

“Then why are you avoiding me? Is it because of what happened with Chris? I’m not mad about that”

“No, it's not about Chris-”

Bobby chooses that moment to enter, because he can see the panicked look in Buck’s eyes, “Hey, is everything okay?” Buck chooses that moment to escape, bolting out of the room.

“I think I lost my best friend, Cap,” Eddie whispers as he watches Buck go, “I don’t even know what I did wrong, he won’t talk to me.” Bobby stays silent and he watches as Eddie sulks out of the locker room.

Bobby learns that Eddie had broken up with Ana two days later when Eddie shows up at his doorstep, hands in his pocket looking lost. Damn these boys he thinks to himself as he lets Eddie into his home. “Tell me what happened?”

“I did what you said Bobby, I took a chance, and it blew up in my face. Chris was mad, then he liked her and now he doesn’t and Buck, he won’t even look at me or talk to me.”

The Captain sighs as he leads Eddie toward the dining table and orders him to sit down. Athena eyes the younger man suspiciously before turning to her husband. They share a silent conversation with their eyes and Athena knows why he’s here. She begins making some tea before handing Eddie a mug and Bobby one and seats herself down. “I took your advice Bobby, I put myself out there and it got me here. My son mad, Buck won’t even talk to me and Ana well she took the breakup well and I don’t even know how to process that too, in fact she seemed to know something I didn’t.”

“Eddie,” Bobby says, “you keep saying you took my advice, remind me again what did I say?”

“You said that I could miss out on a chance to have something else, something real.”

“Eddie,” Athena cuts in, “think really hard for a moment, perhaps Bobby didn’t mean Ana, perhaps he meant someone else.”

“Someone you already have in your life, someone else you already know,” Bobby adds in

“Buck,” Eddie whispers and suddenly he’s up like a shot out of the chair, “I have to go,” he says hastily as he runs towards the front door before skidding to a stop and backtracking to the table. He gives a hug to Bobby and Athena, “Thanks!” he shouts then he’s out of the house the front door slamming shut.

“These boys,” Athena sighs.

Eddie and Buck arrive together the next morning, shoulders bumping sharing soft smiles. Bobby tries to ignore the red mark that can be seen on peeking out from the collar of Buck’s shirt, but Hen and Chimney don’t. They tease Buck and Eddie looks so smug, but it with the two men finally getting their act together the atmosphere in the station shifts. Everything is back to normal. Eddie corners Bobby later that morning after breakfast a smile on his face as he hugs him tightly, “Thanks Bobby,” he murmurs.

“You're welcome,” Bobby replies, “oh and you owe me fifty bucks.”

“Wait..what?”

Bobby isn’t even mad that he lost the bet, it’s no surprise to anyone that Hen won, he’s starting to think that she is cheating. But he can’t be mad because Buck is back to his normal self, bouncing around the firehouse, smiling and laughing.

“No Hen!” Buck whines, “hey! Give me the controller!”

“Buck!” Hen exclaims, “You can’t keep doing this when we play this game!”

“Eddie! Do something!”

Who cares if he lost, his son is happy and if is also right in his assumption, his future son-in-law is no longer sulking like a toddler. If an intervention needs to happen again, he won’t wait long this time. “Eddie!” Buck laughs out, “hurry! She’s cheating!”

Buck watches Eddie excuse himself from the conversation, he’s having with one of the other fighters to rescue Buck. The man is laughing as he plops himself down next to him. “I don’t understand why you do this all time when you play with her.”

Buck squawks, “Excuse me, I don’t do this all the time!?”

“You do!” Hen and Eddie laugh out

Maybe he won’t need to do an intervention. Eddie is looking at Buck fondly and Buck is grinning back at him. And Bobby knows that grin, Buck is totally going to be the one to propose, he’s calling it.

He called it wrong. Damn, Eddie Diaz.

#buddie #buddie fanfic #911 fox #bobby nash #Eddie Diaz #evan ‘buck’ buckley #firefam #outsider pov

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vajranam · 3 years

Text

Cup Of Tea

What Tea Can Teach You

There was a Japanese Zen master named Nan-in who lived during the Meiji era (1868-1912). During his days as a teacher, he was visited by a university professor curious about Zen.

Being polite, Nan-in served the professor a cup of tea.

As he poured, the professor’s cup became full, but Nan-in kept on pouring. As the professor watched the cup overflow, he could no longer contain himself and said, “It is overfull. No more will go in!”

Nan-in turned to the professor and said, “Like the cup, you are too full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?”

The Beginning :

first things first I am Ngakpa Konchok Dorje Tsondon, this blog had several life’s because sometimes the provider played update tricks sometimes was myself who wanted different things.

I am a yogi from the Drikung Kagyu Lineage but my roots of Buddha Dharma are from Karma Kagyu, Nigmapas, Gulugpas and Shaigon, Zen I had lot of different teachers, because my view was build on Jagung Kuntrul Rinpoche teaching and Kalu Rinpoche teaching “Rimey”. After lot of chaos and tones of challenges one day I found Garchen Rinpoche who became my vajra master.

Let have a cup of tea

I heard that a lot why do you teach? My answers are on my Ngakpa vows there is some point about that but my real answer is Bodhicitta that why I teach, I am just an insect compare to the big Rinpoche but if one of my text help one being I rejoice in it.

Attitude To Dharma

The Buddha teach about the three pots, this teaching is extremely important because learn us the right view we need to take. The Tea teaching is another one why is before all of the teachings. Well not just because I love Koan and I love do Koan but more because today we are all full as a cup of tea.

Recently I heard something on the radio about a scientific who been to India talked with the Swamies and Lamas. He was surprised about the full effect of meditation but he forgot one thing to empty is a cup.

Like that scientist, we all come with a massive cup full of judgement, views, information and mostly let’s call it massive ego.

When I touch the holy land of India I had a simple question in my head how to stop suffering but even with that, I had to learn to empty my cup because not doing it will be like asking the Dalai Lama for help and not take any of his advice.

Dharma whatever dharma you take isn’t like going to church and eat kinda truth and everyone happy, whatever you take Vedic, Buddha or Sikh dharma be ready for the ride. That means dharma is base on experience a teacher will show you the way but you got to do 100% of the efforts to get there.

No one will save you from your “mistakes” Christian call that sin we call that non virtue, non virtues are like putting a mine in road that you drive and forgot about it. The problem when the mine gonna to explode that when the problem start.

The right attitude to dharma well whatever level we are we always learn, new ways there for we should develop the student attitude. Keep mind open and keep humble.

50 Verses of Guru Devotion

Composed by Ashvagosha

L1. Bowing in the proper way to the lotus feet of my Guru, who is the cause for me to attain the state of a glorious Vajrasattva, I shall condense and explain in brief what has been said in many stainless tantric texts about Guru-devotion. (Therefore) listen with respect.

2. All the Buddhas of the past, present and future, residing in every land in the ten directions, have paid homage to the Tantric Masters from whom they have received the highest initiations. (Is there need to mention that you should too?)

3. Three times each day, with supreme faith, you must show your respect to your Guru who teaches you (the tantric path), by pressing your palms together, offering a mandala as well as flowers and prostrating (touching) your head to his feet.

4. Those who hold ordination vows, if (your Guru) is a layman or your junior, prostrate (in public) while facing such things as his scriptural texts in order to avoid worldly scorn. But in your mind (prostrate to your Guru).

5. As for serving (your Guru) and showing him respect, such as obeying what he says, standing up (when he comes) and showing him to his seat — these should be done even by those with ordination vows (whose Gurus are laymen or their juniors). But (in public), avoid prostrating and unorthodox actions (such as washing his feet).

6. In order for the words of honour of neither the Guru nor the disciple to degenerate, there must be a mutual examination beforehand (to determine if each can) brave a Guru-disciple relationship.

7. A disciple with sense should not accept as his Guru someone who lacks compassion or who is angersome, vicious or arrogant, possessive, undisciplined or boasts of his knowledge.

8. (A Guru should be) stable (in his actions), cultivated (in his speech), wise, patient and honest. He should neither conceal his shortcomings, nor pretend to possess qualities he lacks. He should be an expert in the meanings (of tantra) and in its ritual procedures (of medicine and turning back obstacles). Also he should have loving compassion and a complete knowledge of the scriptures.

9. He should have full experience in all ten fields, skill in the drawing of mandalas, full knowledge of how to explain the tantras, supreme faith and his senses fully under control.

10. Having become the disciple of such a protecting (Guru), should you then despise him from your heart, you will reap continual suffering as if you had disparaged all the Buddhas.

11. If you are so foolish as to despise your Guru, you will contract contagious diseases and those caused by harmful spirits. You will die (a horrible death) caused by demons, plagues or poison.

12. You will be killed by (wicked) kings or fire, by poisonous snakes, water, witches or bandits, by harmful spirits or savages, and then be reborn in a hell.

13. Never disturb you Guru’s mind. Should you be foolish and happen to do this, you will surely boil in hell.

14. Whatever fearful hells have been taught, such as Avici, the Hell of Uninterrupted pain, it is clearly explained that those who disparage their Gurus will have to remain there (a very long time).

15. Therefore, exert yourself wholeheartedly never to belittle your Tantric Master who makes no display of his great wisdom and virtues.

16. (If from a lack of awareness you have shown disrespect) to your Guru, reverently present an offering to him and seek his forgiveness. Then in the future such harms and plagues will not befall you.

17. It has been taught that for the Guru to whom you have pledged your word of honour (to visualize as one with your meditational deity), you should willingly sacrifice your wife, children and even your life, although these are not (easy) to give away. Is there need to mention your fleeting weath?

18. (Such practice of offering) can confer even Buddhahood on a zealous (disciple) in his very lifetime, which otherwise might be difficult to attain even in countless millions of eons.

19. Always keep your word of honour. Always make offerings to the Enlightened Ones. Always make offerings also to your Guru, for he is the same as all the Buddhas.

20. Those who wish (to attain) the inexhaustible (state of a Buddha’s Wisdom Body) should give to their Guru whatever they themselves find pleasing, from the most trifling objects to those of best quality.

21. Giving (to your Guru) is the same as making continual offerings to all the Buddhas. From such giving, much merit is gathered. From such collection comes the supreme powerful attainment (of Buddhahood).

22. Therefore, a disciple with the good qualities of compassion, generosity, moral self-control and patience should never regard his Guru and the Buddha Vajradhara as different.

23. If you should never tread even on (your Guru’s) shadow, because the fearsome consequences are the same as destroying a stupa, is there need to mention never stepping on or over his shoes or seat, (sitting in his place or riding) his mount?

24. (A disciple) having great sense should obey the words of his Guru joyfully and with enthusiasm. If you lack the knowledge or ability (to do what he says), explain in (polite) words why you cannot (comply).

25. It is from your Guru that powerful attainments, higher rebirth and happiness come. Therefore, make a wholehearted effort never to transgress your Guru’s advice.

26. (Guard) your Guru’s belongings as you would your own life. Treat even your Guru’s beloved (family) with the same (respect you show for him). (Have affectionate regard for) those closely around him as if they were your own dearest kin. Single-mindedly think (in this way) at all times.

27. Never sit on the (same) bed or seat (as your Guru), nor walk ahead of him. (At teachings do not) wear your hair in a top-knot, (a hat, shoes or any weapons). Never touch a seat (before he sits down), or if he happens to sits on the ground. Do not place your hands (proudly) on your hips or wring them (before him).

28. Never sit or recline while your Guru is standing (nor lie while he is sitting). Always be ready to stand up and serve him skillfully in an excellent manner.

29. In the presence of your Guru, never do such things as spit, (cough or sneeze without covering your mouth). Never stretch out your legs when at your seat, nor walk back and forth (without reason before him), and never argue.

30. Never massage or rub your limbs. Do not sing, dance or play musical instruments (for other than religious purposes). And never chatter idly or speak in excess (or too loudly) within the range of (your Guru’s) hearing.

31. (When your Guru enters the room) get up from your seat and bow your head slightly. Sit (in his presence) respectfully. At night, at rivers or on dangerous paths, with (your Guru’s) permission, you may walk before him.

32. In the direct sight of his Guru, (a disciple) with sense should not (sit) with his body twisted around, nor lean (casually) against pillars and such. Never crack your knuckles, (play with your fingers or clean your nails).

33. When washing (your Guru’s) feet or his body, drying, massaging (or shaving) him, precede such actions with (three) prostrations and at their conclusion do the same. Then attend (to yourself) as much as you like.

34. Should you need to address (your Guru) by his name, add the title “Your Presence” after it. To generate respect for him in others, further honorifics may also be used.

35. When asking for your Guru’s advice, first announce why you have come. With palms pressed together at your heart, listen to what he tells you, without (letting your mind) wander about. Then (when he has spoken), you should reply, “I shall do exactly as you have said.”

36. After doing (what your Guru has told you), report (what has happened) in polite, gentle words. Should you yawn or cough, (clear your throat or laugh in his presence), cover your mouth with your hand.

37. If you wish to receive a certain teaching, request three times with your palms pressed together, while before him on your (right) knee. (Then at his discourse), sit humbly and with respect, wearing appropriate clothing that is neat (and clean, without ornaments, jewelry or cosmetics).

38. Whatever you do to serve (your Guru) or show him respect, should never be done with an arrogant mind. Instead you should be like a newlywed bride, timid, bashful and very subdued.

39. In the presence of (the Guru) who teaches you (the Path), stop acting in a conceited, coquettish manner. As for boasting to others what you have done (for your Guru), examine (your conscience) and discard all such acts.

40. If you are (requested) to perform a consecration, (an initiation into) a mandala, a fire puja or to gather disciples and deliver a discourse, you may not do so if your Guru resides in that area, unless you receive his prior permission.

41. Whatever offerings you receive from performing such rites as (the consecration known as) “Opening the Eyes”, you should present all these to your Guru. Once he has taken a token portion, you may use the rest for whatever you like.

42. In the presence of his Guru, a disciple should not act (as a Guru) to his own disciples and they should not act towards him as their Guru. Therefore (before your own Guru), stop (your disciples) from showing you respect such as rising (when you come) and making prostrations.

43. Whenever you make an offering to your Guru, or whenever your Guru presents you with something, a disciple with sense will (present and) receive this, using both hands and with his head slightly bent.

44. Be diligent in all your actions, (alert and) mindful never to forget (your word of honour). If fellow disciples transgress (what is proper) in their behaviour, correct each other in a friendly manner.

45. If because of sickness you are physically (unable) to bow to your Guru and must do what normally would be prohibited, even without (his explicit) permission, there will be no unfortunate consequences if you have a virtuous mind.

46. What need is there to say much more. Do whatever pleases your Guru and avoid doing anything he would not like. Be diligent in both of these.

47. “Powerful attainments follow from (doing what) your Guru (likes).” This has been said by (the Buddha) Vajradhara himself. Knowing this, try to please your Guru fully with all the actions (of your body, speech and mind).

48. After a disciple has taken refuge in the Triple Gem and developed a pure (Enlightened) motive, he should be given this (text) to take to his heart (how to abandon his own arrogant self-will and) follow in his Guru’s footsteps (along the Graded Path to Enlightenment).

49. (By studying the prerequisite trainings of Guru-devotion and the Graded Path, common to both the Sutra and Tantra,) you will become a (suitable) vessel (to hold) the pure Dharma. You may then be given such teachings as Tantra. (After receiving the proper initiations,) recite out loud the fourteen root vows and take them sincerely to your heart.

50. As I have not made the mistake (of adding my personal interpretation) when writing this work, may this be of infinite benefit to all disciples who would follow their Guru. By the limitless merit I have gathered in this way, may all sentient beings quickly attain Buddhahood

#wisdom #spirituality #mindfulness #meditation #religion #buddhism #zen #self care #visualization #tibet

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villainousshakespeare · 3 years

Text

Learning a Lesson Chapter 9

iLearning a Lesson Chapter 8

Part 1 Here, Part 2 Here, Part 3 Here, Part 4 Here, Part 5 Here, Part 6 Here, Part 7 Here, Part 8 Here

Young Actor Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Rated E -Smut, Angst, Complicated Relationship - Teacher/Actor Posing as Student, Feels, Flirting, Fluff, Oral Sex, Sex, Shower Sex, Threats, Breakups, Angst…

ANGST IN THIS CHAPTER! (but don’t worry… I’m a hopeless romantic)

Summary: It’s your first day as a teacher and things are going well. That is, until a tall, gorgeous boy with blond curls and dramatic ways saunters into your last class. When he ignores all the swooning girls to flirt outrageously with you, it is secretly thrilling. Even more so is when he tries to steal a kiss after class ends. How long will you be able to keep your defenses up?

Up and Coming actor Tom is under cover in high school for research for a movie, but the pretty drama teacher is making the long assignment so much more enjoyable

@arch-venus25, @caffiend-queen @ciaodarknessmyheart @frostbitten-written @just-the-hiddles @kellatron55 @myoxisbroken @nonsensicalobsessions @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @shae-annelore @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @hiddlesholic @yespolkadotkitty @vodka-and-some-sass @wolfsmom1 @tom-hlover @toozmanykids @delightfulheartdream @whyispistashanuttaken @hopelessromanticspoonie; @loki-yoursaviourishere @is-it-madness

The Monday morning walk to school was the longest of Emily's life. With every step she took she was tempted to turn around and run the other way, hiding under her blankets and weeping rather than going on. Only a deep seated stubborn streak kept her from giving in to her fears and doing just that.

She needn't have worried. Tom was true to his word. There was no sign of him to be found in school. No infectious laugh ringing through the hallway, no tousled halo of blond hair floating above the shorter students amidst a throng of admirers, and no ice blue eyes seeking hers for a secret wink or speaking glance.

Emily told herself it was for the best. She hoped she would eventually believe it.

The other god-send was that Jim Howard seemed to have called in sick. A substitute was in his classroom when she got there, and never had she been so glad to see the old woman than she was that day. She assumed that it was his pride that kept him from walking into the building with a black eye and a swollen jaw, and took evil delight in the fact that Tom had so thoroughly trounced him.

Tom. There he was again. She could not go five minutes without calling him to mind. It was going to be a long day. Hell, it was going to be a long forever as far as she knew. How long would it take to get over the golden boy who had so completely won her heart?

Half a day was how long it took for the news of his exit to hit the school grapevine. Emily began hearing his name whispered during her fourth period class. By the time that class ended and she made her way to the staff lounge it was all anyone was talking about. Ada, Janis, and Mike were gossiping about it when she came in, a pathetic lunch of coffee and a banana in her hand.

"Well, anyone with eyes could have seen that that boy should be a movie star," Janis was opining. "It doesn't surprise me one bit."

"Oh, come on Janis," Mike laughed, skepticism showing, "he was handsome, sure, but there's no way you saw this coming!"

"I'm not saying that," Janis sniffed. "Obviously I didn't know he was an actor. But if anyone in this school was destined for greatness it was Martinsson."

"Hiddleston," Mike corrected her. "Apparently that's his real name. You're awfully quiet, Emily. You were close with the boy, weren't you? Tutoring him after hours and all?"

"Not that close," she said with a half shrug. "He claimed to want help with an audition monologue, but that was obviously for show. We never actually worked on it. Just class."

The words were true enough as far they went, even if the meaning behind them was an all out lie.

"Still, he clearly preferred you," Ada said, giving her a probing look. "I heard all sorts of chatter about how he always flirted with you, volunteering to read romantic scenes with you. I was a little jealous, to tell the truth. I mean, and I can say it now that I know he's a genuine adult - what I wouldn't have given for a chance to sculpt a nude of that boy!"

"No wonder Howard hated him so much," Mike laughed good naturedly. "It seems it's not just the high school girls who had a thing for him."

Emily did her best to tune them out after that, and took to eating in her classroom. The days blended into each other, with no end of the day secret to make them stand out as special.

The kids in her drama class were all excited of course. The thought that they had read scenes with an honest to goodness actor, one who was going to be starring in a movie, made them practically giddy. Kate began recirculating the lie that the two of them had been involved, and no one dared to correct her. Emily was angry on his behalf, offended that anyone would believe he would fool around with a student, until she realized the implications of that thought.

It was that guilt that was the worst. Well, along with the loneliness. Even if he had been an adult, she hadn't known that. She had thought him no different than Kate or Zack or Jamie, and she had slept with him anyway. She deserved all the pain she was feeling. Deserved more than that; to loose her job and never be hired again, even. More and more she slipped into a depression.

It was nine days after she had thrown him out of her apartment and her life that the first letter arrived. She grabbed her mail from the small slot inside the door and rifled through it on the way up the stairs as she always did, expecting nothing more than bills and solicitations. When she turned over an envelope addressed in an instantly recognizable hand, she felt as though she had been punched in the gut. Hands shaking, she opened the seal, afraid that if she didn't do it at once she would never find the courage, and unfolded a letter.

"My Darling Emily," it began in Tom's loopy mess of long hand, "I know I have no right to write to you, having broken your trust in the most caddish way possible. I only hope that you will allow me the opportunity to once more take advantage of your goodness of heart and kindness of disposition, that I may try to explain why I orchestrated such a hurtful charade.

"As you are patently aware now, I am an actor of both stage and screen. I take my profession very seriously, perhaps more so than it deserves, though I like to believe that you among all women will understand why. If I can peel away the layers of a character enough to expose the beating heart within, allowing my audience to sees even a piece of the truth of humanity in my portrayal, then I truly believe that I am contributing something to this shared experience we all are living. Pretentious as that sounds, it is my goal every time I assume a role, be it Iago or a soldier, or even Mr. Toad.

"When I was cast as a student from the States, I knew I had my work cut out for me. I was educated, I blush to say my love, in the best schools in England: Eton, Cambridge, and RADA. My good fortune has been quite excessive, I know, though no teacher I encountered in all of my tutelage could hold a candle to you, my darling. In any case, I was woefully unprepared to know the struggle such a young man was going through. My director came up with the idea to have me pose in a small town school, and I admit I leapt at the chance.

"Never in a million years would I have guessed that I would meet the woman of my dreams in such a situation.

"I confess that in the beginning I flirted with you to amuse myself. You are quite breathtakingly beautiful, my sweet, and I was bored beyond belief. As the days went on, however, I began to uncover the woman underneath the starched blouses and pencil skirts. A woman with a mind that soared and a soul that sung. One who shared my passion for stage poetry, and did not back down from a challenge.

"In short, my darling Emily, I fell in love with you.

"I should have told you the moment our relation crossed over the line. Alas my love, I fear that it is a coward who worships you. I was afraid that if you learned the truth you would be angry, and I wanted to collect as many precious moments with you as I could before your warm eyes turned cold. My sin is great, I know. I do not deserve to be forgiven. Nonetheless, I place my heart at your feet in hope that you will take it up, take pity on me, and not stomp it beneath your shoe.

"The film I am working on seized the opportunity afforded by my early matriculation to begin shooting. I am relocated to New York City to start principal photography. I know it is a mere two hours from you, and yet it feels the length of the world. Knowing I will not see you each day, hold you at night, is a weight on my soul that I know I have only myself to blame for.

"I ask nothing of you, my dearest Emily, but that you allow me to write to you. I do not expect you to write back, although I live in hope that one day you will. The distance keeps us apart, but perhaps that need not be all bad. Perhaps it can give you time to heal and to trust me once more. Let me write to you, to tell you about myself - my real self - and try to win your friendship back if nothing else. It has been the most important of my life.

"I do not flatter myself that I will ever hold you again, kiss your soft lips, feel you beneath me as you gasp in passion. I have too great a mark against me to hope for such grace. I would die to have it, but will not impose it on you. Just let me try to heal the hurt I have done, and I will be content.

"If you cannot find it within you to accept my offer of friendship in the form of epistles, simply write me with one word. 'Stop' and I will cease. You are in control, my heart. I will bow to your wishes.

"Please take good care of yourself, my Emily. I wish I could be their to tend to you myself. Be warry of the dread maths teacher. I know it is no longer my place, but I would ask you to not be alone around him.

"Enough of that. I will end for now. Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.

"My heart is yours.

All my love,

Tom."

Emily read the letter through, barley able to make out the words through the tears welling in her eyes. When she had finished, she collapsed onto the bed and read it through again, openly weeping this time. All of the pain and guilt she had been holding in came flooding out. In the end, she had to put the letter aside so that the deluge of her tears didn't permanently mar the ink composing the lines. By then she knew it by heart, but she still loved to see his strong hand scrawled out over the page.

She did not for a moment consider writing him to stop. Perhaps she should have. There was no future she could see for the two of them. Her trust had been shattered, along with her mental image of herself, by the situation. On top of that, he was away, filming a movie in the big city that she rarely went to. When this movie was ended, who knew where he would be? Jetting off to exotic countries? Treading the boards in London? His life was exciting and adventurous, and she was a little mouse of a school teacher from a small town. How could they hope to make a relationship work, even without their drama?

The letters came far more frequently than she had expected. While it was not every day, Tom was clearly grasping every spare moment he had to pour out his heart to her. He told her all about the filming process. She felt as though she knew his costars, so vividly did he depict them. Against her will, Emily would find herself laughing at ridiculous anecdotes, or groaning in commiseration at delays in the shooting.

In the midst of all of these tales of misadventures and productivity, Tom made clear to he still hoped to win Emily back. He never missed an opportunity to praise her, calling her darling, his sweet, his dear, his love. He mentioned how he had suggested that one of the teachers should be young, smart, and sexy as an homage to her, though no one could possibly do her justice. He let slip that he had been making his costars groan with his continual referencing her, to the point where they teased him any time her name arose.

At the end of each letter he dropped all pretense, stating plainly that he loved her and would do anything to win her back. He insisted that he would wait, that the decision was entirely hers, but that he lived in hope that one day she would write him back, telling him she forgave him. Until that day, he would soldier on and try to deserve her.

Several times Emily found herself sitting down, trying to pen a reply to him. She wanted, desperately wanted, to do so. But each time, the fear would come crashing down and she would end up tearing the letter to shreds.

About two months after the letters started, there was a longer than usual gap between arrivals. Emily began to think that he had given up on her, and a panic she had never felt gripped her. She had not realized the extent to which she had been living for his words.

When an envelope finally arrived, it was in an international envelope, and the return address was London, England. That was it, then. He was out of the country. All of the stories of his homecoming, complete with welcoming family, were a dagger to her. He still professed his love, but now an actual ocean separated them along with the sea of emotion.

Their were two more letters, spread over a month and a half, and then nothing for three weeks. Depression returned. She had all but given up when a card shaped envelope, gilded on the edges, arrived in her box.

***

"Alright, out with it!"

Emily looked up from the pile of papers she was grading to see Ada standing in her classroom door, arms crossed over her paint splattered apron and a determined look on her face.

"Out with what?" Emily asked, confusion genuine.

"It's been four months, Emily," the older woman said, shutting the door behind her as she walked in and sat at one of the student desks. The same desk, Emily couldn't help but note, that had once been Tom's.

"Sorry?"

"Four months that you have been moping around! Barely showing your face in the teacher's lounge, looking like someone stole your dog and kicked your kitten. This, from the girl who was such a spark of joy when she was hired that she even ignited passion for teaching in an old war horse like me!"

"I'm sorry," Emily mumbled.

"Don't be sorry, girl! Tell me what's wrong!"

"It's nothing."

"Emily, do you think I'm blind?" Ada asked with a sigh.

"No..."

"Or that I'm stupid?"

"Of course not!"

"Good," Ada snorted. "As I am neither. Four months ago, a certain long-legged boy with more looks than are good for anyone swaggered out of this school, and you have been a ghost ever since. It's not hard to put the pieces together."

Emily gaped at her, all color draining from her face. If Ada knew, or strongly suspected, was it then general knowledge? Was her shame a joke amongst the faculty, or a cause of scorn?

"Don't worry, hun," Ada said, as though reading her mind. "Most of the people around here are blind and stupid. No one else has any idea. Well, maybe Jim, but that's a whole other can of worms that I am not too keen on digging around in. So, you fell for the boy, huh?"

"You must despise me," Emily said, voice hardly above a whisper.

"So you're failing is that you're deaf," Ada shook her head. "How many times did you hear me rhapsodize about him? Hell, I was undressing him with my eyes every damn day!"

"But you never took it farther than that."

"No, I didn't. But then I am decades older than either one of you and was not given the opportunity. Who knows what I might have done if he had batted those long golden lashes at me and flashed a dimple."

"You wouldn't have slept with a student," Emily said doggedly.

"Is that what this is? That you feel guilty? Tell me something, Emily: would you ever even consider anything inappropriate with say... Jack Simmons, or Zach Lewis, or Dan Fielding? Would it even occur to you?"

"No," Emily said at once, repulsed by the very idea.

"Of course not. Because they are children. The Simmons boy is a hulking child, true, but even though he is big, he is still an adolescent. You can easily tell in a moment he is not an adult. Now, compare that to Tom. He has a baby face, and is all gangly, but there was something about him that flatly identified him as a man. You knew that, instinctively. That is why you let things play out the way you did."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I know you," Ada said simply. "You are a good person, with a moral compass. Was it a stupid thing to do? Of course! It could have ended horribly for you, and thank god it didn't! But don't beat yourself up for listening to your intuition when it turned out to be right! Even if the boy did end up being a snake."

"What if he wasn't?" Emily asked carefully.

"I just assumed... he left, and you didn't seem happy about it... Emily, what did happen?"

Emily looked at her friend, chewing on her lip as she decided what to say. Ada already knew the worst; what harm could it do to let her in on the rest? In a rush it all came out. The clandestine affair, the trouble with Mr. Howard, seeing Tom on Nicholas Nickleby, their disastrous fallout, all of it. Ada sat there rapt as Emily spilled the whole sordid story.

"He really punched Jim?" Ada asked when she had finished, a huge grin spread over her face.

"Twice," Emily confirmed, answering smile on her own mouth. "Hard. Knocked him flat onto the ground."

"Oh, would I have loved to have seen that."

"I could have lived without it, honestly."

"Oh, hun, I don't know what to tell you," Ada shook her head. "I don't even know whether to feel jealous of you sorry for you. Both, I suppose. Ah, to be young again."

"He's been writing me letters," Emily confessed, face reddening. "Ever since he left."

"What does he say?" Ada's eyes were huge.

"Different things. How his day is going. About the filming. That he loves me and wants to be with me."

"Well what the hell are you doing here then?" Ada stood from the desk to stare at her.

"Ada..."

"Girl, if that young man wanted me, you can bet that nothing would keep me away!"

"He's in London," she muttered.

"Did something happen to all the airplanes?"

"No... In fact..."

"In fact what, Emily? Spill it? Give a woman something to live vicariously through!"

With a sigh, Emily dug through her bag and pulled out the card she had received the day before. It was an invitation to a movie premiere in New York City. Folded along with that was a train ticket, prepaid first class, and a small note:

"I would not wish Any companion in the world but you, Nor can imagination form a shape, Besides yourself, to like of.

Tom (with all thanks to Miranda in The Tempest)"

"Well," Ada smiled at her, "when shall we go shopping? You, my dear, are going to need a dress!"

#Tom Hiddleston #tom hiddleston rpf #Tom Hiddleston/OFC #fic #fanfic #love #angst #pining #letters #love letters #smut (in other chapters)#teacher/student relationship #BUT NOT REALLY #he is undercover for a role #I am a sucker for a happy ending I promise!

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autisticoddity · 3 years

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All About Stimming!

Self-stimulatory behavior, more commonly known as “Stimming” is the use of repetitive actions, or other forms of sensory stimulation, to regulate emotions, and prevent over-stimulation. Stimming can be a really fun topic to talk about! there are so many different methods of doing it, so many things its helpful for, and so many stim toys you can use! Stimming can even be beneficial for neurotypical people! (those without any mental conditions/disorders) but what exactly is stimming? who does it, why do we do it, and what does it do? and, of course, what methods are there?

Stimming behaviors are frequently seen in a few different kinds of mental disorders, including developmental disabilities, ADHD, sensory processing disorders, and most frequently, autism! though the presence of stimming behaviors, or lack thereof, does not confirm any of these diagnoses on its own.

different conditions can present slightly different types of stimming behaviors, and have differing levels of control over these actions, as can each individual, so while I’ll try to explain all the information I know from a few angles, my perspective is an autistic one, and my own, so there may be more details specific to other conditions or individuals I’m unaware of.

People with this behavior can get the urge to stim for a variety of reasons, many people are probably most familiar with stress/fear based stimming, as that’s what usually attracts drama and gets publicized, but it can also be used to help calm other strong emotions, be done out of habit, to work out excess energy to help focus(common among those with ADHD), or just because it’s satisfying!

Though some people may find stimming to be strange, and encourage suppressing stims, at least in public, stimming is a very healthy, very useful tool for coping with the amplified emotional reactions, and sensory sensitivities those with conditions like autism and ADHD experience, and while for many it is possible to suppress, it takes considerable effort, causes stress, and depending on the person and situation, isn’t always possible. for some who are diagnosed late like myself and naturally suppress urges to stim unless having a meltdown/panic/anxiety attack, allowing yourself to stim when you want to, despite what you’ve learned is considered normal, is a skill we have to actively learn.

So what kind of situations is stimming usually useful for? As we’ve established, the most extreme and well known is stress, or over stimulation, in which case focusing on a stim helps to block out the other less predictable stimuli, but it can also be used to focus, blocking out distractions, or to vent extreme emotions like anger or even joy, much like someone might “jump with joy” when very excited. Many people with Autism experience other emotions much stronger than most too, sometimes enough for a simple funny dad joke to cause an overwhelming surge of excitement/joy, so stimming helps filter that into a more manageable feeling to process.

Alright, now that we know what it’s all about, what’s it look like? there are a TON of ways to stim, some of which everyone does! do you tap your fingers or bounce your leg when bored? it’s a very similar concept! at it’s root, it can be anything that provides consistent stimulation.

The most visible stims are usually physical motion ones, this can be any repetitive motion, hand flapping, rocking, leg bouncing, blinking hard, and clapping are a few of the most common, though some are less full movements as they are pulses in a specific muscle.

There are also auditory stims, that can include sounds, words or phrases, sometimes randomly, sometimes repeating something that was heard or a word that crossed their mind. many Autistics also struggle with volume control, so they may also shout, or mutter.

Less noticeable, but far more common are tactile stims, one of my favorite. tactile stims most often involve other objects, such as fabrics, toys, or really anything with a pleasing/interesting texture, or satisfying repetitive action, much like many fidget toys, tactile stimming is feeling or repetitively manipulating a surface/object, this can be as subtle as rubbing the edge of your shirt between your fingers, or as involved as a rubix cube.

With fidget toys becoming more popular, there are endless stim toys to choose from that provide all kinds of stimuli from textures and actions, with things like putty or a fidget cube, to sounds and visual stimuli, like simple instruments, shiny or vibrant colors and satisfying visuals, stim toys are a great tool for coping with unfamiliar situations or staying focused for a long period of time. and they’re just plain fun!

Some people do experience self-injurious stimming behavior, in which they can harm themselves, sometimes in small habits like picking at your skin, but some can have much more harmful urges such as scratching, hitting themself, or even banging their head against a table or wall. is these cases, the behaviors are usually very very difficult to change or stop, but not impossible, through steady effort and support, they can often learn to manage the more harmful impulses.

Aside from stimming, there are a few different external things some use as a source of stimuli, such as music, podcasts, compilations, scented candles, and even snacking or eating comfort food can provide needed stimulation!

Stimming is a very useful tool for anyone to use, so find what works for you, and have a stimmy fun time!

I think that’s about all the info i can think of, hope you learned something new!

- if you have any questions about autism, send me an ask! :D

#stim #stimmy stuff #stimming #autism #mentalwellness #fidget #actuallyautistic #actually autism #actually autistic #mental health #coping #stimulation #asks open #ask me questions #autism awareness #autistic spectrum #mentalheathawareness

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kickingitwithkirk · 3 years

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Greetings From Austin

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.

Word Count: 2616

Warnings: a/b/o, homophobia, bisexuality, biphobia, angst, cursing, self doubt, depression/anxiety, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility

*additional warnings to be added in future parts.

A/N: Here we go again with one my weird as hell dreams, series Inspired by this art.

A/N II: There is no intentional hate or malevolence intended towards any of the Ackles or Padalecki families. This is a purely fictional piece containing real and created persons/names/events set in the fictional A/B/O verse. Some dates/events altered to fit story.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

*divider by @writeyourmindaway

*images found online

Prologue

Austin, TX

Mid July

“Babe,” Jensen softly says in a low voice to the person seated next to him in the waiting room, “Babe,” he says a bit louder, still getting no response. Leaning close, he blows into their ear.

Jared starts, his “what” muffled by the finger he’s been chewing on.

“You know you can’t do that, don’t want you getting sick.” Taking his hand Jensen pulls it away from his pretty pink lips, gently caressing the finger. Jared had finally stopped chewing on his hands when Covid-19 became widespread.

“Where’s your gum?” Jared bite his lip not answering.

Sighing, Jensen shifts retrieving his pack and hands a piece to him. “What’s got you masticating again?” He inquires as Jared pops the stick in his mouth.

Jared chews the gum nervously weighing how to answer the question knowing Jensen won’t accept anything less than the whole truth. “What if something goes wrong again because of me.”

Jensen’s brow furrowed. He learned years ago that while their relationship is one of equals, he had to be lead Alpha when Jared’s mental state overwhelmed him as it had the last few weeks.

***

After the public announcement in March 2019 that season fifteen would be Supernaturals last, they had agreed when finished with the pickups they would take an extended break, return to Austin and concentrate on their marriage.

Jared intended to stop acting indefinitely, pursuing other interests and Jensen wanted to concentrate on his music.

Of course, things didn’t quite end up how they planned.

Jared entered negotiations to star in the Walker, Texas Ranger reboot, along with being an executive producer. Jensen got a call from Kripke wanting him for the role of Soldier Boy in The Boys third season.

But by March of 2020, everything came to a halt thanks to the Corona-virus.

The shutdowns left Supernaturals final two episodes with no definitive filming date and their seemingly never ending last season put their other projects on hold.

For the first time in years they had the luxury of a leisurely schedule, not having to be somewhere on a timetable, they could communicate with friends and family uninterrupted, deal with their other businesses, charities, etc, leaving most days free to enjoy being together without constraint.

But even amazing, awesome, vigorous sex on every horizontal/vertical surface that could support the two big Alphas only filled so many hours and like many couples, they started getting each others nerves and looked for other ways to stay occupied.

By late May, Jared was unable to sleep or eat, even going out of the house became a chore. When he hit a consecutive fourth day in bed, Jensen bodily dragged him into the bath for a desperately needed shower and loaded him in his truck driving to his doctor's.

Upon checking in they were told patients only allowed in the facility. Jared started panicking, saying he was having chest pains and couldn’t breath. He was rushed in with Jensen hot on their heels after morphing into an overprotective Alpha mate no one was stopping.

Jared’s doctor deduced with the lock-downs prohibiting him from his routine checkups and periodic adjustments needed to his medications triggered this episode.

The first step was to wean him off his current prescriptions and change to a newly approved, alternative regime. He was checked in a facility for ten days under observation while detoxing off his meds.

His therapist switched his twice weekly tele-counseling sessions to daily for the foreseeable future and Kodas certification as an emotional support animal was approved. His progress was slow but he was returning back to his sweet natured, big hearted, exceptionally tactical, overgrown puppy self.

When the surprise call from the clinic came a few days ago about an appointment opening, Jensen initially didn’t want it, still in his overly excessive protective Alpha mode. Jared’s outburst made him relent, fearing they were on a collision course for a major setback if he didn’t.

And Jensen, being Jensen, went overboard to ensure the appointment was absolutely private.

Part I

Jared was about to speak when a woman in scrubs called out, “Mr. Bonham and Mr. Page.” they got up crossing over to her, “Hello, I’m Sissy, Dr. Rodgers nurse, please follow me.”

They pass through the doorway leading through a maze of halls like that of any other medical clinic except this one specialized in a very specific service.

The nurse opens a door near the back of the clinic gesturing for them to enter the spacious office, “Please have a seat, the doctor will be with you shortly.” She closed the door and they sat down in the pair of chairs directly in front of the large, dark mahogany desk.

Jensen, scenting Jared’s nervousness, lifts his right hand kissing his palm, making him chuckle at the tickle of Jen’s soft beard before twining their fingers together and setting them on his left thigh, smiling reassuringly.

There was a brief knock before the door opened and an older, silver haired Beta entered. “Hello, I’m Dr. Rodgers, how are we doing today?” He asks, moving to his chair behind the desk.

Jared gave him a tight smile and Jensen remained placid.

The doctor raises an eyebrow, “Relax Mr. Page, this is just a visit to go over the paperwork before deciding about how we proceed, not the Spanish Inquisition.” Jared releases his held breath but couldn’t completely calm himself.

“I know the process can be overwhelming but I must ask, is there something we’ve done to make you uncomfortable?” Dr. Rodgers inquires.

“No, everyone’s been really nice, very professional. It’s just we..we had issues the first time we attempted to do this.” Jared finished his sentence quietly, in the recess of his mind; something bad is gonna happen and it’ll be my fault.

Jensen squeezes his hand tighter, instinctively sensing Jared’s mind was trying to spiral again, “When tried this before someone leaked our plans to the media. It wasn't ever proven the clinic was involved but...”

“We do everything possible to keep our clients anonymity protected here. All of our staff have been thoroughly vetted and sign NDA, given your professions, you're familiar with how they work. Your real identities will remain completely confidential, even if you choose to not proceed. It is why you chose this particular clinic, yes?”

“Yes, it is.” Jensen replied.

“How about we get this bit of paperwork out of the way, then we can have a more relaxed visit. I’ve gone over the applications you both submitted and have noted a few discrepancies in the medical section that need clarification before we proceed,” He opens the top file, “Mr. Bonham, why did you omit Genu Varum from your medical history?”

Jensen kept his expression neutral as he felt his stomach automatically clench. He had been mercilessly teased throughout his childhood about his bowed legs by his older brother Josh and later his buddies from school when they’d come over to hang out. By the time he was in high school Jensen’s extraordinary looks and personality were what got people’s attention first. Nowadays, many a fanfic waxed poetic about those bowed legs.

“The questionnaire inquired about inherited genetic medical conditions and since mine isn’t, I didn’t think it was necessarily applicable.” Jared hears an edge creeping into Jensen’s voice and gives their tangled fingers a quick squeeze.

“Did you see an orthopedist and were they able to determine what caused the condition? Did they suggest any surgical procedures or therapies to straighten your legs?”

“I was born a preemie, the orthopedists my parents consulted decided my condition was attributable to that.” Jensen replies tersely, dropping his vocal range. Jared gripped his hand harder, telling him to cool the attitude. “The doctor didn’t recommend surgery but sent me to physical therapy, thought it would help them straighten as I grew.”

“So no others in your immediate family have this issue?”

“Everyone my family has straight legs, including my three children.”

Jared piped in, “He hates it but he does have an exercise regimen; stretching, strength training. Oh, he also takes several different vitamins, omega oils, turmeric and extra vitamin D to support his joints.” They watched the doctor scribble a few more notes in the file before closing it.

“Mr. Page,” Jared sits up straighter in his chair, “I appreciate that you went into detail about your mental health status. I see you’ve recently been hospitalized, your medications have been changed to an alternative regiment and you’ve also increased your therapy sessions?”

Jared’s interview continued for another twenty minutes as Dr. Rodgers questioned him in depth about his depression and anxiety, feeling said anxiety ratcheting up so he focused on Jensen’s thumb rhythmically moving over his hand and used every ounce of his acting skills to appear confident and in control.

Dr. Rodgers closed his file, “I only have a few general questions left then we can discuss how you wish to proceed.”

After a more relaxed, genial conversation with the doctor, Sissy took them to a couple private rooms with paraphernalia to help stimulate them into producing a couple semen samples.

Jensen was getting close to finishing with his favorite spank-bank fantasy when he felt Jared’s frustration across their bond.

~~~

Jared couldn’t get aroused.

He felt as useless as his flaccid cock.

His doctor warned him that loss of sex drive could be a possible side effect of his new regiment until his body adjusted to it. He had struggled with temporary impotence a few times on his old meds, always fearful Jensen would finally see him as undesirable, no longer a satisfactory mate.

Rationally, he knew it was his illness causing these exceptionally hard to deal thoughts recently and the nagging idea this wasn’t the right thing for them to attempt again continually kept creeping in.

Jensen’s unspoken reluctance about having more children at his age was also weighing on his conscience, warring against his own biological longings.

They had a humongous argument when he told Jensen about taking the appointment. Jen thought this was the wrong time to attempt it again, pointing out he was just getting his equilibrium back setting Jared went off on a rant about how he no longer wanted him and would leave him like Genevieve had because he was too broken to deal with anymore.

Unmitigated anguish was written across Jensen’s beautiful features, the very notion that Jared could conceivably believe that he’d ever abandon him made his soul hurt in such a way no verbal language on earth could ever express his devastated feelings traveling across their bond.

***

Everything they’d been through; from that bar fight solidifying their friendship, Jared’s first breakdown, the years of living as roommates while secretly a couple to finding wives who understood their unique relationship and still married them both in 2010.

The joyous arrival of JJ three years later that unfortunately exacerbated Genevieve's frustration of not being able to conceive coming out with a vengeance at Jared. His unexpected breakdown in Switzerland was the final nail in their marriage. Gen was there for him but in the end it was all too much and she filed for divorce.

Shortly after, Jared’s iCloud account was hacked. It was believed, but never conclusively proven, that Gen was behind it since her lawyer was trying to break their prenuptial agreement, the videos documenting his private and explicit sexual relationship with Jensen were legally considered adulterous. In the end, the court upheld the legal document but the ramifications...

They were summoned to L.A. for the meeting from hell with WB executives, both convinced it was the end of Supernatural and their careers.

After the reaming out, they each received a weeks pay suspension to cover some of what it was gonna cost PR in time and money to deal with the inevitable repercussions and placate the show's sponsors.

How would the show’s fans react? Would they still be able to accept them as brothers only on TV while in real life they were involved in a highly stigmatized relationship?

When they returned to work there was an atmosphere of tension that hadn’t existed before. It was an open secret that all shows had their share of bitchiness and backstabbing behind the scenes. Jensen may have the thicker skin, keeping tighter control on his emotions, but Jared knew it hurt him just as deeply the loss of some of their friends because of prejudicial, social beliefs that two Alpha males shouldn’t be involved.

Jensen’s parents showed up unexpectedly in Vancouver a few weeks later. What started out as a not quite comfortable visit quickly deteriorated with his religiously conservative parents. They had not raised him like this and blamed Jared, saying he had corrupted him, leading him into a sinful lifestyle. He needed to repent and return to his wife to whom he had made a commitment before god.

Jensen blew up, replying it was none of their business, it was between them and oh, yeah, Danneel knew about them before marrying him and they better not say anything to her. Without another word his parents left. When he later called them to make amends, his mother coolly stated that he was no longer part of their family and to never contact them again.

Three months after the twins were born in 2016 came the finalization of Jensen’s divorce from Danneel, painful but congenial. They easily agreed on joint custody and still spent most holidays together. Jensen gave Dani financial security in their settlement, he wanted to make sure she didn’t have to worry about working again unless she wanted to.

All these years later, Jared continually has nagging thoughts that they had let everybody down. They received support when they publicly came out as bisexual then lost some of it when they married, being mocked for not coming out as gay.

***

There was another knock at the door and Jared ignored it, it was that nurse checking on his lack of progress again. The knock turned into pounding, “Jared, open this door now dammit!” He flinched realizing Jensen knew what was going on with him. Releasing the privacy latch and opening the door a crack he saw concerned green eyes only.

“Sorry, I thought you were that nurse,” he stepped away and sat back down as Jensen came in and re-latching it behind him. “She came to get me when you stopped answering,” Jensen said, walking over to him and started running his thick fingers through his husband’s long hair, “what’s going on babe?”

He glances up knowing that Jensen already knew, “It’s okay Jay, take as long as you need.” He paused at the unpleasant scent wafting around him. “If you’d be more comfortable we could do this at home…” Jared shakes his head, “There’s the risk of damage, contamination and or not able to get it back in time that could make the semen unusable.” Jared quotes from a website.

Jensen softly chuckled, “Nerd.”

Jared notices the bulge in his jeans, “You didn’t...”

“Drain the snake..choke the chicken..spank the monkey.”

“Fuck, okay, you didn’t! Stop using old man slang.” He shook his head smiling at Jensen intentionally goading him.

Jared reached up for the hand playing in his hair, grasping it to draw Jensen down next to him.

“Jack, I don’t want to wait any longer on doing this. I love JJ and the twins, you know I do, but they'll always be yours and Danneels. I know the timing could be better... but I'm almost thirty-eight and I want my..our own pups running around the house driving us crazy.”

“For the next eighteen years?”

“Minimum.”

tbc

Part II

SPN: @donnaintx @lyarr24

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy @let-me-luve-you @all-4-wincest

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

#J2 #alpha!jensen ackles x alpha!jared padalecki #jared x jensen #a/b/o #alpha!jensen x alpha!jared x omega!ofc #alpha!jensen ackles #alpha!jared padalecki #a/b/o ofc #Jensen Ackles #Jared Padalecki #spn au #husbands

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whentherewerebicycles · 3 years

Note

You seem to be really amazing at executing planned changes with food and exercise (and also generally better psychological habits) - can i ask for advice on this? I’ve finished up studying for now and realise my body has turned into a twisted up, pudgy, weakened wreck! Exercise hurts and sugar/processed food feels so cosy and I can’t seem to get through this part where i have to feel discomfort for a while before i feel better!

What works for you? Should i read that atomic habits book you mention? I saw another one recommended - the Kindness Habit - do you know anything about it?

(I tried journaling btw - but it didn’t get me anywhere)

hello!! i can share some things that have worked for me when it comes to implementing longer-term changes in diet and exercise. these seem really simple but i think that actually making big lifestyle changes is much less about summoning up colossal amounts of willpower and much more about making small but important tweaks to the way you think about/approach diet and exercise. here are five things that have been helpful to me.

(1) don’t think of diet changes in terms of restrictions (i.e., “what delicious cozy sugary things do i have to deprive myself of today to be Good”). instead, approach diet changes as a fun little game of adding in as many good things as possible (fruits, veggies, leafy green things, nuts of all kinds, whole grains, beans, etc.). every single time you are preparing a meal or looking for a snack, describe it to yourself as a chance to be creative and resourceful, as you think about fun ways to add in small good things every time you eat. especially in the early weeks, don’t restrict foods from your diet at all. focus solely on finding a creative way to add in something healthy and delicious every time you eat. (i really liked using the daily dozen checklist when i was starting out—they have an app and it’s very satisfying and fun to see how many things you can check off the list each day.)

(2) narrate this “adding-in” game aloud to yourself. for example: “oh—what if i eat a big handful of berries on top of that ice cream?”, or “i’m hungry—ooh, there are carrots in the fridge, aren’t there? i’ll eat three carrots with hummus before i switch over to pita chips”). and every time you figure out a creative way to add in a good food, stop and observe yourself doing it, and let yourself feel a little spark of delight at how clever and creative you’re being. this sounds silly, but i swear it works! part of changing your habits is changing self-talk & especially changing the kind of running narrative you have in your head about who you are and what you do. you can change that narrative in part by repeatedly reframing the way you tell it to yourself, ideally aloud (or aloud in your head) to help you can better “hear” and internalize the new story. instead of “ugh... i ate ice cream again. why don’t i have any self-control? why am i someone who just eats like crap?”, you’re offering your brain an alternate story, one that focuses less on things you perceive yourself as lacking, or on things you ‘failed’ to do, and more on the creative, positive things you did do (“i wasn’t going to eat any fruit today, but wasn’t it great that i remembered we had those frozen berries in the fridge? that’s pretty creative and resourceful of me, and plus it’s a good way to use up something i’d forgotten i even had”).

the “noticing and feeling delighted” part is just as important. to successfully change a habit, you need to find creative ways to make the new habit pleasurable in and of itself. the more pleasure you feel when you do it, the more self-reinforcing the habit itself becomes. you might not experience eating healthy foods as intensely pleasurable (at least at first, especially if you are comparing them with the intense brain-hacking pleasure that super sugary foods give us). so don’t try! instead, focus on making the choice a source of pleasure and delight. "look at how clever i was! look at how creative i can be! look at what a good choice i made! look at how good i am at this game of adding in!” that act of stopping, narrating, and letting yourself feel genuinely pleased with what you’ve just done makes the choice to add something in pleasurable, which in turn can help fuel your sense that this isn’t about having iron willpower or about cruelly depriving yourself of delicious things, but is about playing a fun little game with yourself, creating little challenges or puzzles for yourself throughout the day and then giving yourself positive reinforcement when you figure them out.

(3) manage your environment to set yourself up for success. to paraphrase the atomic habits book: the people who seem to have the best willpower are the people who have to exercise it the least. and they have to exercise it the least because they’ve very effectively managed their environment, arranging things so that the desired choices are easy and “frictionless,” while the undesired choices or habits are more inconvenient or introduce more friction (it’s harder to get to them).

the easy starter version of this (from atomic habits): put the things you want to eat in highly visible places and/or in appealing arrangements, and put the things you don't want to eat in places that aren't visible or that are inconvenient to access. ice cream goes in the very back of the fridge, buried behind all the other stuff. nuts go in a bowl on your desk so that you can idly snack on them while you work. apples and bananas go in a big brightly colored bowl right on the counter, so that every time you pass through the kitchen your eyes are drawn to them. chips go in the bottom cupboard, the one below eye level that you don't use very often, and when you get them out you pour some into a bowl and put them right back in there (instead of leaving the bag out on the counter). make the choice you want to make easy, and make the choice you don't want to make harder to get to.

eventually, the most effective way of managing your environment is just to exercise total control over what comes into your own living space. for me, if i don’t want to eat it, i don’t have it in the house. i typically also place a curbside delivery grocery order so that i don’t have to go into the store—anything that comes into my house is something i made a deliberate choice about ordering, not something i wandered by a shelf and added to my cart because i wanted a treat. something i’ve learned about myself over the years that moderation is just not in my vocabulary—i’m an all-or-nothing person, and it’s SO much easier for me to just not have stuff i don’t want to eat in the house. no ice cream in the house. no alcohol in the house. no fried things, no chips, no candy, etc etc. if someone kindly brings me baked goods that i did not ask for, i genuinely appreciate the gesture, but as soon as they leave i give them to my next door neighbor or dump them in the trash. (SORRY TO PEOPLE WHO BAKE FOR ME!) if it's in the house i'll eat it. if it's not, i won't, and i also won't miss it.

i did do this pretty gradually at first, though! when i switched to a primarily whole food plant-based diet, i focused on playing the adding-in game for a couple weeks, and then when i started getting competitive about it i decided to use my grocery order as a way of creatively boosting my fruit/veggie/etc consumption even more, and in the process i started winnowing out things that took away chances to add in a good thing. i would say it took about three or four weeks to get to my personal ideal state of Nope I Don't Have It In The House.

it takes time, but i’d say that within a month of having only things you want to eat in the house, your cravings will be gone, at least within your own managed environment (going to restaurants or traveling DOES require you to exercise willpower, but there are ways to prepare for this in advance). the good news, though, is that 6-8 months or so of eating like this usually brings with it such improved sleep, mood, energy levels, skin, hair, GI function, etc etc that you start to be like oh my GOD why would i want to eat that horrifying thing?? I KNOW HOW BAD IT MAKES ME FEEL!! I WANT TO POWER MY BODY WITH PLANTS!!!!! in other words, the pleasurable side effects of eating well becomes positively reinforcing in its own right, while the negative effects you experience when you reintroduce sugar or fried things tends to reinforce the idea that those foods Feel Bad.

(4) it's not exercise, it's movement. i too used to hate exercise and found it extremely painful and tedious and horrible. so instead of exercising i just started moving. i canceled my membership at the local dog bar, where i had been taking my dog almost every day to let him run off excess energy, and started talking short walks with him twice a day instead. if you don’t have a dog, offer to walk your friends’ dogs—trust me they will lose their MINDS with joy lol. i think that starting to build in regular walks is the best way to get active again, because walking is typically quite pleasant and it becomes positively reinforcing to like, wave at the same neighbors every day, and see the cute kids next door running around, and notice all the ways that the trees and flowers are changing, and so on.

if you do not find being outside inherently pleasurable (sometimes i do not lol esp if i’m grumpy about having to walk the dog), tie another pleasurable activity to your daily walk. i listen to about six hours’ worth of hockey podcasts a week and i am only allowed to listen to them on my walks, so i end up looking forward to the walk because i’m desperate to hear people talk about My Guys. you can also walk with friends, or call a friend while you’re walking, which is even better than podcasts!! social walks are so much fun and go by so much more quickly. i started out just doing daily 15 min walks, and over the past couple years have built up to walking between 60-90 min a day when i’m at home. sometimes i hate/dread my walk; sometimes i love it and look forward to it. but regardless of how i’m feeling, i do it every day and if i miss it once, i don’t miss it a second time.

as far as activity goes, i think it’s totally ok to just be a person who walks a lot! but i’ve found that becoming someone who walked a lot helped change my own narrative of myself—I started to think of myself as a walker, an active person who moved a lot every day. and that made it easier to pick up other forms of activity too, or at least to adopt a curious, exploratory attitude towards other forms of movement. also once you start tracking your active minutes you tend to get quite competitive about it! or at least i do, lol. i keep a note on my phone where i write down the date + type of activity + total number of minutes I did after every burst of activity, then at the end of the week i add it all up and compare it to the previous weeks. it makes me want to do more, to beat my own numbers—or it makes me want to keep up a streak (like, if i have a five-week period where i’ve consistently hit a certain level of active minutes every week, i don’t want to break it!!).

my biggest suggestion for exercise, though, is to figure out what kinds of things you enjoy and what kinds of things you don’t, and then to spend all your time doing things you like. i HATE structured fitness classes and workout videos. i hate them so much!!!!!!!! but i love being outside, i love doing solo activities (as opposed to group workouts), and i love doing any form of movement that doesn’t feel like a Planned Workout, capital w. also becoming a hockey fan got me really interested in skating, so i picked up rollerblades and found that to be amazingly fun too (something i can do outside AND something that feels like gliding around effortlessly AND something that makes me feel closer to My Favorite Guys!!!!). you may not have passionate feelings about hockey fandom as i do, but i think it’s really just about being creative—finding a creative way to link something you don’t love to something you do love, or find pleasurable, so that you can start forging those positive associations.

i spent my first couple years of being more active just walking walking walking, and then this past year during the pandemic when i really ramped up my movement i added in longer walks, hikes, and rollerblading, and i also looked for ways to “habit-stack,” ie attaching an activity i don’t much care for (running; exercise biking indoors; doing squats and lunges) to one i do enjoy (i take my tennis shoes when i go skating and then go for a run immediately afterwards, before i have time to talk myself out of it). there are still all kinds of things i don’t do—i really don’t love strength training + bodyweight exercises yet, and i hate stretching even though I Know I Should, and i know that if i want to get stronger and faster, or build up my endurance, i will eventually need to introduce some element of structured training into my daily movement.

BUT the idea of making those changes seems kind of cool to me now, instead of Horrifying and Dread-Inducing! i feel like all the positive associations i’ve forged have made me more curious and open to ideas i would’ve resisted with my whole being not all that long ago. i found a way to make movement pleasurable, and then (thanks to sports fandom + my tendency to go down research rabbitholes) i found a way to get myself intellectually and emotionally engaged in the general concept of being a highly active person. for me, that combination of real pleasure + intellectual/emotional stimulation is what i personally need to build & maintain good habits.

(also, just shoehorning this in at the end because i like it: the “it’s movement, not exercise” mindset shift was also really helpful to me because it stopped me from thinking of exercise as like, this highly structured, regimented, torturous thing you forced yourself through for a set period of time each day, and helped me instead think of movement as something that humans are designed to do & to naturally enjoy. instead of Forcing Myself to Exercise, i looked for more natural-feeling forms of movement that didn’t feel so artificially divided from my “real life.” i think that helped with reframing my self-narrative, too! it made being active feel more integrated into my daily life, which in turn made it easier to think of myself as an active person, someone for whom movement was just a normal part of daily life and not a thing i had to psych myself up to do every day.)

(5) it takes time to build good habits, but not nearly as much time as you might think, and eventually you stop thinking about how long you’ve been doing something and you just start enjoying it (ie it becomes a genuine change in your lifestyle/thinking, not an artificial thing you have to work hard every day to maintain).

i am not yet AN ATHLETE and may never be, but i often remind myself that it took me a little under 30 years to build up a PROFOUND aversion to exercise, so it’s actually kind of miraculous that in just two years i’ve become someone who genuinely, earnestly, enthusiastically enjoys being active and feels antsy/weird/restless when i can’t get out of the house and move. every small stride i’ve made has strengthened my trust in myself and helped me reframe the narrative i tell myself about what kind of person i am and what i do/don’t do. every time i do the thing (whether it’s exercising or making a delicious healthy dinner) & happily notice myself doing it, i reaffirm to myself that i’m the kind of person who takes care of my body and mind by eating well and spending lots of time moving outside. (as a side benefit, when i spend a lot of time happily noticing things and speaking encouragingly to myself, i also reaffirm to myself that i am a happy person who treats myself kindly and who is always eagerly seeking out experiences that feel joyful and life-affirming.)

plus, the more often you do something, the more opportunities you have to have positive experiences while doing it! not every walk is AMAZING, LIFE-CHANGING, DEEPLY FULFILLING, but like, if i am walking seven days a week, that’s seven opportunities for something cool or fun to happen on a walk (not to mention seven opportunities to reap all the physiological & emotional well-being benefits of exercise!!). and if i am really conscious and intentional about noticing and actively delighting in those positive experiences, i help wire in those positive associations more deeply, and my brain/body increasingly comes to associate movement with happiness, joy, and fulfillment. as the habit of being more active becomes fulfilling in and of itself, i don’t have to expend as much energy tricking or cajoling or bribing myself into doing it.

i hope this helps!! i am literally always happy to write extremely long essays in respond to simple anon questions, lol, so if you want to talk more about your own ideas for building better habits please do share!! i can also rec you specific books that i’ve found really useful—both for just like, helping me figure out how to make big changes, and also for providing that intellectual stimulation that gets me more engaged in wanting to eat well & be more active.

(also, on the extremely slim chance that you are also a hockey fan: over in my fandom sphere, we are organizing a fun summer thing inspired by one of our fave hockey players, where we’ll be planning lots of fun fannish community things to get ourselves moving this summer. it’s going to be a good time!!)

#food #movement #mw

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damnusillygoose · 3 years

Text

Somebody is jealous( jellal’s edition)

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13786166/2/somebody-is-jealous

for erza’s edition:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13786166/1/somebody-is-jealous

Thank you sapphireblue2007 for suggesting me to write jellal's version.

Disclaimer: these characters are rightfully owned by hiro sensei.

Somebody is Jealous (Jellal's edition)

Well, Jellal perceives himself as a very liberal and progressive person.

He wasn't a possessive person. No, not at all- Even in his relationship with Erza, he believed in giving ample space for growth and self-introspection to each other. He certainly didn't believe in getting jealous when one's partner gets some excessive attention from the opposite gender. Nope, not at all, he was a progressive person, wasn't he? He didn't want to smother her with suffocation. Jellal was aware of the fact that his woman was a strong person who didn't need anyone to save her. She was her own person and stood up for what she believed in. That's how he viewed relationships- a sweet added bonus to one's life, separate from a person's purpose in life.

Yet,

He felt horrified, as he realised, he was shamelessly contradicting his very own beliefs. His eyes twitched in mild irritation, well not exactly mild- only slight, that's how he soothed his not so jealous soul, as he watched the scene before him unfold.

His beloved was sitting comfortably on one of the chairs kept near the bar, eating her sweet dessert in contentment, oblivious to the lusty stares that eyed her glorious exposed thighs and cleavage. There were men hovering around her, drooling repugnantly.

Erza was a beautiful woman. It was an established fact. Not only did she win various beauty pageants, but she also attracted scores of men who simped after her and bolstered her as their 'waifu'!

Jellal was fucking replete with fury when he came to learn about this obnoxious verbiage. What a derogatory term! He opined. How dare they lust after Erza and claim her as their 'waifu'?! well, typically he was doing the same. But he was her partner and it's pretty healthy in a relationship to be intimately attracted to your partner! Yep, he reasoned with his conscience.

It was no secret that men secretly/openly lusted after females who were fairly popular. Given fairy tail's reputation, they were inglorious for being rambunctious all over the continent. This shouldn't come as a surprise to Jellal that Erza was kind of a national crush of Fiore. She even got disgusting offer letters from rich officials asking her to be their mistress. Every single person, be it a man or a woman, acknowledged her regal presence. Wherever they went, people were in awe of her. She was a beautiful woman, confident and sassy, along with a splendid personality. Who wouldn't be attracted to such an amazing person?

Analysing her fan following, he was sure of the fact that Erza must have dated some men in the past. However, He gasped in utter disbelief when he got to know that despite of the attention she received; she never laid her eyes on another man. They were reserved for him. Always.

He was her first man, the first man who held her hand, the first man who witnessed her vulnerable side, her first kiss, the one who took her virginity, the one she would like to start a family with and the only one who she would devote her heart to.

Forever.

That gave him a superior complex over all those degenerates who hated him for stealing their waifu.

Her devotion made him feel extremely fortunate, to get a woman who would choose him over everything else.

But that didn't mean that he couldn't get jealous.

'Oi chad, snap out from your murderous intent, will ya?'

'Laxus.'

'What happened? Why are you in such a bad mood?', Laxus raised his eyebrows in amusement. It was fun teasing Jellal especially when he was in a foul mood.

'Jelly-chan is jealous because other men in the party are eyeing Erza ravenously!', Meredy chimed in the scene, humming a tune under her breath almost nonchalantly.

Laxus let out a nasty cackle as he smashed his beer pint against the wooden table they currently occupied. Meredy joined in with her sniggers; annoying Jellal in his misery.

'Cheer up Jelly chan, if you brood so much, you will end up getting wrinkles quickly and look almost 20 years elder to Erza!'

'Stop calling me Jelly chan, Meredy!'

'Why? I think that name suits you a lot Jellal.'

Oh no.

The trio turned around to acknowledge the owner of this sardonic comment.

Erik approached the group with a wide smirk plastered on his face, much to Jellal's discontentment.

What a great timing. Now they will gang up to bully me.

'Say Jellal, want to murder those assholes? I could feel your malignity from the far end of the hall, reverberating louder than Gajeel's singing shit'

'I wouldn't go that far, they are just harmless flies'

Actually, he could.

'Then why are you getting so hot-headed over those harmless flies?', Meredy smiled knowingly.

'I am not.'

'oh boss! Stop lying with your pathetic ass!'

'I am not lying Erik!'

Erik scoffed at his reply. He didn't even try to hide it.

'Then what do you plan on doing chad boy? Just sit in a corner like a lost puppy and watch as those men eye your woman?', laxus joined in the conversation, adding oil to the fuming spark.

'I can't pause to throw a stone at every dog that barks. Plus, Erza is a strong woman. I shouldn't stick my nose where it isn't needed. I think she is capable of handling this herself.'

But actually, he was trying his best not to jump in the scene and take her away from those bastards but he didn't want to appear as a jealous freak who had no control over his irrational aspect.

'of course, she is Jellal', Meredy reasoned,' but a woman, no matter how strong she is, would love to be spoiled by her man and feel protected. That doesn't mean you are undermining her strength. It's called chivalry.'

'…'

'What about ramming some hot iron rods up in their assholes?', laxus had no chill at all.

'Laxus your speech is so vulgar', Jellal cringed.

'Not as vulgar as your mind, boss'

'Erik, listen up- '

'it's okay Jellal', Meredy patted his back sympathetically, 'You are always harsh on yourself. You don't have to berate yourself so much. Being jealous is a sign of affection after all.'

'Really?', he raised his eyebrows in suspicion.

'Well, when exercised in moderation. Don't become Juvia though.', Laxus grimaced in exasperation.

'I just-I can't handle those people who eye her like she is their personal property!'

'Oohoohoo, finally the lover boy is being honest!', laxus slapped his hand against jellal's back harshly.

Jellal ignored his remark and chose to focus upon what Erza was doing.

Erza, unfortunately, was already surrounded by random men drooling over her assets while he was busy merry making with his guild mates.

He was pissed. He was fucking pissed.

He clenched his fist in impuissance until his knuckles turned white. He let out a shaky breath, biting his lips, trying his best not to eradicate their existence by casting sema right at this moment

'Erza-sama, I know this beautiful villa by the country side that I can rent for you. Would you like to witness that scenic beauty? I can make the arrangement just for the two of us.'

'uh, no thank you. I am not interested, I am busy at the moment with my ongoing missions but I would certainly take-out time to visit this said place with my friends and my boyfriend', Erza exaggerated the last part to make this pathetic pervert clear of the fact that she wasn't interested in his offer.

'He doesn't need to know'

'When I said I won't go, I won't go. Please learn to respect a woman.'

She was already seething at this moment, ready to requip in her armour to beat the shit out of these perverts but she held herself back. This was an important party for her guild as many magic council officials appeared to discuss some important matters with master Makarov.

'Erza-sama!', another pervert chimed in, 'what about-!

'My honeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!'

Erza felt a shiver travelling down her spine even before she could react from the horror of hearing his voice. She didn't need to see who this abhorrent creature was. She didn't even acknowledge him as a person. Ichiya had already latched himself around her leg giving it a wild sniff, trespassing all boundaries of her private space.

This is it. This was her limit.

She was shaking wild. Her fingers were itching from wrath as she tried to remove him from her. These men latched themselves upon her despite being firmly rejected by her. She was being polite and considerate of her guild. That's the only reason she somehow tolerated their creepy remarks. She desperately searched for familiar eyes through the crowd that was bustling from the onset of vibrant ebullience. She grew impatient by every single moment when she failed in her search to find them. That's when she felt a presence behind her. The eyes she was searching for were already looking down from their vantage but not at her. She followed his eyes to find them glued on Ichiya.

Jellal got hold of Ichiya's hand and ruthlessly broke him apart from Erza's legs, not caring for a single second where his poor ass landed.

'Ichiya-san, that's a unique way of greeting someone. It could very well qualify as harassment you know', Jellal hissed menacingly, walking in front of Erza to make a defensive guard around her.

Jellal was a master at hiding his emotions and maintaining a stoic demeanour but Erza could still look beyond that very well.

He appeared perfectly placid but he wasn't.

His eyes bellowed bloodlust. He was growling with belligerence.

He was not going to let these repulsive hands touch the body that he revered so much.

The rest of the crowd started to disperse, succumbing to the impingement Jellal displayed, while laxus, Meredy and Erik watched the scene in awe. That's the impact Jellal's presence wielded.

There was a limit to which this man could tolerate bullshit after all. This was Jellal, who was fiercely protective of the woman he loved.

Erza snickered to herself smugly seeing the crowd become frail upon his arrival. These were some spineless cowards who weren't even half the man her Jellal was.

Jellal blissfully ignored the crowd that was whispering his name with resentment, something along the lines of 'their waifu'

He looked at Erza, taking in a deep breath of relief as he put his hands over her shoulders securely.

'Well gentlemen, I just remembered that my boyfriend and I have some work to do, if you will excuse us.' Erza stood up from her chair and bowed her head signalling her departure as she grabbed hold of jellal's hands, leading them across the hall through the exit door. Jellal looked at his guild mates who were giving him smug smiles and thumbs ups.

After exiting the guild, Jellal let out a sigh as they strode further away from that crowd. He still was shaking, his hysteria urging him to go back and beat the shit out of those bastards. He tore his thoughts away from the former events and looked sideways at the enchanting woman walking by his side.

'This dress really looks nice on you.'

'Thank you, sweetheart', Erza smiled and turned her face to give him a chaste peck on his cheeks. 'But I think I will opt for a less revealing outfit next time for a formal party like this'

'Why?'

'tch, didn't you see for yourself what happened today?'

'Don't fret about those assholes, just wear what you want', he snaked his arm around her waist protectively to pull her closer to him.

Jellal rarely cursed, that meant he was infuriated right now.

'Jellal', she whispered lovingly, taking his face in her hands, 'look at me'

He locked his gaze with her, facing her completely. His arms gently fondled her waist, pulling her entirely towards himself.

She leaned into him, melting like butter.

'I love you Jellal.' She brought his face towards hers until their foreheads were touching each other, 'Thank you for helping me back then. I was really helpless'.

They closed their eyes and sighed in synchronisation. She felt his arms locking her into a tight embrace, clutching the fabric of her dress.

'I just…..couldn't help myself when I saw them degrading you like that.' He felt the weight of her hands shifting down towards his neck, near his sensitive spot which only she knew about, caressing it to calm him down.

'Thank you love, but don't over-exert yourself over this issue, this isn't worth your time and effort', she looked at him tenderly. Jellal was such a worrywart but she loved him the same.

'yeah…you are right', he leaned into her, nuzzling his nose with hers, her sweet scent taming his raging heartbeat down, 'I love you too'

It's almost been a year since they started dating and obviously they never hesitated to show their love to each other- verbally, physically or emotionally, but Erza would never get tired of Jellal saying 'I love you' to her. She had dreamed about it so long, she yearned about it ever since she realised her feelings for him, she would never take his confessions for granted. It still had the same impact on her as the first time he poured his heart out to her.

Such was their affection for each other-always raging against the odds.

The hooting of the owls could be heard in the depth of the night. A sudden breeze struck her form as she shivered from the lack of her clothing, she had worn a simple flowy dress, not deemed to be fit in a chilly weather.

'it's getting cold Erza', Jellal pointed out as he draped his coated over her shoulders, 'let's go home'.

She hummed lightly in solace as she felt his lips softly touch her forehead. She entwined her hand with his as they started treading towards the path that led to their small cottage, their personal heaven.

'Can you make me a strawberry smoothie with vanilla ice cream?', she asked him tentatively, testing her waters.

'I thought you wanted to curb your midnight snacking'

'But jelllaaaaaaaaaaaal!', she wailed in desperation, 'dealing with those perverts drained my energy!'

'I can always make a bowl of fruits oats for you.'

'Noooooooo! That's way too heathy!'

'Okay how about this?', he tried to reason with her, 'I'll make milk oats for you with honey and loads of freshly cut strawberries. Sounds like a good deal to me, what do you think?'

She thought about the offer for a moment. It did actually sound like a good deal. She knew she kind of gave in to her midnight sugar cravings. Milk oats were a heathier option.

She pouted and tried to act a little spoiled, 'only if you bribe me.'

'What a scandal! The great titania is asking for a bribe!', he nudged her shoulder playfully and she huffed in response to his actions, 'what are your demands?'

'You need to pepper me with as many kisses as I ask you for!'

' My, My, I was already planning on giving you a thousand kisses when we reach home, don't worry about that', he replied as he gave her a wink making her blush profusely.

If anyone heard them conversing in this manner, their eyeballs would pop out from their eye sockets. They were incredible mages, well versed with the ethics of professionalism. They completed their tasks seriously but when they were alone, it becomes a different story.

A/N: if you liked my story please leave a review and do check out my works as well.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Keep loving Jerza!

#jerza #fairy tail #fairy tail jerza #jellal fernandez #jellal x erza #erza scarlet #crime sorciere #fairy tail laxus #Meredy

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ollyarchive · 3 years

Photo

Interview

Olly Alexander on success, sanity and It's a Sin: 'All those hot guys. I loved it!'

Simon Hattenstone

The Years & Years frontman is starring in Russell T Davies’ new drama about the Aids crisis. He talks about bulimia, his ‘dark’ clubbing days – and how he learned to enjoy filming sex scenes

Mon 11 Jan 2021 06.00 GMT

Olly Alexander was so certain he was destined for success that he saw a therapist to help him prepare for his future fame. It was 2014 and his band Years & Years had just signed to Polydor when he visited the shrink.

“I said: ‘The album’s coming out and I really want it to be successful,’ and he said: ‘What happens if it isn’t?’ I said: ‘Well, that’s not an option because I have planned it in my diary since I was a teenager.’”

That diary was less about chronicling the present than a series of promises he made to himself. “I planned my life till I was 25. I would be a famous musician ’cos musicians were the coolest people in the world. The biggest thing in the list was buying my mum a house, and I did that. That was the coolest thing to be able to do with my money.” He smiles. “That was the coolest thing ever.”

Now Alexander might well benefit from another visit to the shrink because he’s about to become a lot more famous. He stars in It’s a Sin, the brilliant new TV drama by Russell T Davies, about a group of young gay men living and dying through the Aids epidemic in the 1980s. The five-part series is funny, vibrant, sexy and heartbreaking.

This is by no means the first time Alexander has acted – he has appeared in the TV series Skins, films such as Bright Star (about Keats), Gulliver’s Travels and Great Expectations, and on stage in the West End alongside Judi Dench and Ben Whishaw in Peter and Alice; a pretty impressive CV. But with It’s a Sin, he knows he has struck gold. “Some actors would wait their entire careers and not get such a good role,” Alexander says, and he’s right. Davies has made a habit of creating groundbreaking TV series (Queer As Folk, Bob and Rose, Torchwood), and this is his best yet.

Alexander’s character, Ritchie Tozer, is an aspiring actor/singer who has just moved to London from the Isle of Wight in search of fame, fortune and a good shagging. He embraces his new freedoms with promiscuous abandon, while also struggling with his sexuality. Ritchie is equally cocky and vulnerable, lovable and insufferable.

Although It’s a Sin takes place in a time before Alexander was born, he says there are so many ways he relates to Ritchie’s life. There is one crucial difference – whereas Ritchie is secretive, Alexander is an open book. If there’s anything to tell you, he’ll tell you, even if he is embarrassed a second later about his indiscretions. It’s an endearing quality, and one that makes him great company.

We meet in his agent’s east London office in December, when Tier 4 restrictions are yet to kick in. Alexander is a boyish 30 – half punk, half catwalk model, with orange hair, earrings, multiple rings, stylish khaki trousers and a handful of inky tattoos. He is garrulous and giggly with a huge toothy grin.

Like Ritchie, Alexander was a stranger to city life when he came to London. He was born in North Yorkshire, went to primary school in Blackpool and Gloucestershire, and a comprehensive in Monmouth, south Wales. He was a natural performer who wrote his first song at the age of 10. “I performed it in my year six assembly.” Can he remember it? He squirms. “Yeah!” Let’s hear it then? “No!” Oh go on! “OK, OK. ‘The leaves are falling outside my window. I’m lay here all alone,” he sings quietly, in that delicate falsetto. He giggles, blushes and continues. “And now I’m a knowin’, the way it’s goin’, we won’t last for ever, for ever my love.’”

Wow, those lyrics are pretty sophisticated – and melancholy. He giggles again. “Oh thanks. It’s about unrequited love. Doomed love. I was getting in early on my themes. I had a bit of help from my dad.” He wrote it after experiencing his first pangs – for a boy in his class.

At secondary school Alexander was a victim of homophobic bullying. He responded with elan. “I would still come to non-uniform day in eyeliner.” Did he fight back? “Sometimes I would scream. I was not a good fighter. We did rugby a lot at my school – a Welsh school. The one time I scored a try, on the way back to the changing room the two popular boys from the year put their arms around me and said: ‘Well done, Olly,” and I was like: ‘I can’t believe it, this is it!’” He pauses long enough for me to get a glowing feeling. “Then they tripped me up and pushed my face into the mud. That was hard to live down.” After that he never went to another games lesson.

When he was 13, his parents separated, and from then he was brought up by his mother, events organiser Vicki Thornton (his real surname – Alexander is his middle name). His father had been a talented but disappointed singer-songwriter who made a living marketing theme parks. Although he gave young Olly a lifelong passion for adventure rides, there were tensions between the two of them. After his parents split up, he broke off contact with his father. When Alexander became successful, his father tried to rekindle their relationship via Twitter. Alexander wasn’t impressed.

With the sod-you eyeliner and supreme belief that he would make it, he sounds incredibly robust. So what else was in that teenage diary? “Pppprrrr.” He blows his lips as if feeling a sudden chill. “It’s a bit dark. I used to write that I really wanted to be skinny.” He exhales deeply. “My mantra was always: I’m not going to eat this again, I’m not going to eat cake again. I’m never going to eat pasta.” He was barely into his teens when he became bulimic and started to list the things he wouldn’t eat. Actually, he says it was worse than that. “I was writing down: don’t eat, don’t eat, don’t eat. Did he have a weight problem? “I was a little chubby at primary school, but no.” What does he think it came from? “It was something I could control. I felt very out of control in the rest of my life. I was struggling with my sexuality, my parents were divorcing, and I wanted to punish myself.”

I want to give him a hug, but I’m not sure he would appreciate it, particularly in the pandemic. Why did he want to punish himself? “It was self-loathing. I didn’t want to be gay. I was convinced I was the reason my parents were splitting up.” He never considered that their divorce may have had nothing to do with him.

He started to cut himself, too. Has he still got the scars? He points to his upper arms and thighs, “because people can’t see there. I was deeply ashamed of doing it. I wanted to hide it.” Are there many scars? “No. A friend saw a plaster on my arm and jokingly asked if I’d been cutting myself. After that, I was so embarrassed that I mostly stopped doing it. Bulimia carried on well into my 2os, but it became less and less frequent. It’s really hard to hold down any kind of job if you’re throwing up food all the time, and ultimately you have to choose.” It becomes a full-time occupation? “Yes, it’s all you think about. And you’re doing so much damage to your organs. I got taken into hospital once with my mum because I had this irregular heartbeat, which can happen through constant purging, and that really scared me. I thought I’d done something irreparable to my body, and my mum was so distraught. She couldn’t understand why her son was throwing up all the food she was trying to give him. She found out because I hadn’t cleaned the toilet properly.”

After studying performing arts at Hereford College of Arts, he moved to London and was liberated. He had a heady time of it – more drugs, clubbing and sex than even he had hoped for, while also getting regular work as an actor. But there was a downside. He saw friends struggle, sacrifice themselves to excess, fall by the wayside. “Everything was about going out and connecting with people at the clubs. I had a great time, but it was also a dark time. A lot of people took too many drugs. A few friends attempted to take their lives and one succeeded. That was devastating. You can see how easy it is for a party lifestyle to turn into something negative.”

Alexander has a strong survival instinct. There was his destiny to fulfil, the house to buy for his mother. He still struggled with his mental health, so he cut down on the destructive stuff. Today, he says, his main drug of choice is the antidepressant sertraline. “I was worried about longterm use, and the doctor said: ‘Well, the latest research shows it can promote neurogenesis, and I was like that’s the coolest thing ever.” Neurogenesis is the process by which new neurons are formed in the brain. “She was basically saying antidepressants are giving you superpowers, and I was like: ‘Amazing, I’ll keep taking them for ever.’” He starts giggling, and he can’t stop. “Neurogenesis – ooh, I love that. I’m going to be neuro-supercharged.”

Years & Years formed in 2010. Founder member and synth/bass/keyboard player Mikey Goldsworthy heard Alexander singing in the shower and asked if he wanted to become lead singer. When Alexander joined, Years & Years were a five-piece band, before shrinking to an electropop trio (Alexander, Goldsworthy and fellow guitarist and keyboard guru Emre Türkmen). Alexander, the main songwriter, has an ear for great sweeping choruses (think Sam Smith meets Pet Shop Boys with a dash of New Order). Their first album, Communion, went to No 1 in the UK, while the song King topped the singles chart and its follow-up, Shine, reached No 2. Many of their songs are about yearning and doomed love – particularly on their second album, Palo Santo – just like the first one he wrote aged 10.

Alexander also became known as an LGBTQ campaigner. He made a documentary, Growing Up Gay, for the BBC in which he talked to his mother in a tear-filled exchange about coming out; he also interviewed people about struggles with their sexuality, the pressure to be promiscuous and take drugs, and addressed schoolchildren about homophobia and mental health problems. Does he think of himself as an activist? He shakes his head. “It does a disservice to actual activists. There’s a tendency to use that word for anyone in the public eye speaking up about any issue. Going into schools and talking about mental health isn’t activism. I like doing that. If I can be helpful, I want to help.”

The week before we meet he was named celebrity of the year at the British LGBT awards. He doesn’t know why – he says he didn’t do anything in 2020. “Maybe they heard about my upcoming role and got in there early!”

He says he has learned so much from making It’s a Sin – not least about acting, and how tough it can be. “Doing an acting job where you have to turn up every day is really challenging. I was so used to my musician lifestyle, which is usually: get up late, get in a car, get driven to an airport, get on a plane, fall asleep, arrive somewhere, get driven to the venue, roll out of the car and do the show. It was too much like hard work every day. I thought I’d got past this!”

We see a lot of Alexander in It’s a Sin – in every sense. He gets more than his share of sex scenes, and says it was fascinating being taught how to do them properly. So he enjoyed them? “All those hot guys. That aspect I loved! And going into it I thought, I’m going to have so much fun doing this, I’m a confident-ish guy, love having sex, it will be great.” That’s so refreshing, I say, to hear actors admit they enjoy sex scenes.

Ah, well, he says, it wasn’t quite that simple – he initially became self-conscious. “I broke down into hysterical tears, like ‘don’t fucking touch me’. I found it really hard.” Then the intimacy coordinators got to work on him. “They were a life-changing experience. Intimacy coordinators are there for safety ’cos there’s a lot of shit that can go wrong between what a director wants and what an actor wants, and boundaries being crossed. They’re there to rehearse everything beforehand with the director and the performers. You talk about animals you might imitate, the sounds you make.” He pays tribute to intimacy coordinator extraordinaire Ita O’Brien, who introduced the Intimacy on Set guidelines in 2017 and worked on Normal People as well as It’s a Sin. “Anything with sex in it, she’ll be involved. She’ll be on all fours at one point, saying: ‘Now I’m going to be like a cow and moo in ecstasy.’ She’s amazing, amazing, amazing.” And yes, he did start to enjoy the scenes.

Did he find them arousing? Now it’s my turn to blush and I apologise for the question. Did he start to enjoy it too much? “No, that’s what I want to know. What if someone gets a hard-on – how embarrassing would that be? Ita said: ‘It’s natural and normal for certain body parts to get excited and if you get an erection that’s absolutely fine, but it’s not appropriate for the workplace.’” He adds a caveat: “Depending on what kind of job you’re doing. And she said: ‘If that happens, you just take a time out. So you’re all there thinking, OK, how embarrassing – because you say time out and everybody knows it’s because you’ve got a hard-on. Hahahhaa!” Did he have to take a time out? “No!” Did anyone? “Not to my knowledge.”

Who did he have most fun with? “I’d say best kiss was the guy who plays Ash [newcomer Nathaniel Curtis]. Great kisser.” And the best shag? “Sexual simulation,” he corrects me. “Best sexual simulation was Roscoe [Omari Douglas, another relative newcomer].” Has he told them? “It’s all coming out in this article, Simon.” And I can sense him calibrating what he has just said. “It’s going to ruin my standing!” But a second later he changes his mind. “No, that’s a compliment right? I compliment them both. Hahahaha!” And he laughs giddily.

I ask about the future. You sense he’s not sure where to go from here, acting-wise – that it can’t get any better than It’s a Sin. Fortunately, he owes the band an album’s worth of songs. He had them done and dusted before the pandemic. “But all that time in my flat going insane made me realise I didn’t like any of the music, it didn’t feel relevant. I just wanted to start again, which is what I did. Now it’s almost ready – again.”

It will be only their third album in seven years. “I know,” he says. “It’s embarrassing. Ariana Grande has had about five out in the time we’ve done one.” In the meantime, he says, Türkmen has had one baby, with another on the way.

What about his own love life? “It’s pretty dire.” Sex? “I’m hopeful to have more sex … it’s very difficult in the age of Covid if you’re single. I actually tried to lock someone down who would be my ‘friends with benefits’ sex buddy, because I saw that Holland were advising people to do that. In the first lockdown I said: ‘Look, we can just have sex with each other. I trust you, you trust me, we’re not together, but this is an arrangement. I’ve not had sex in six months, what do you think?’ But he said no. I was quite upset. So yeah, not a lot of sex in 2020.” For a split-second, the puckish Alexander looks forlorn. Then he grins his toothiest grin yet. “But I’m hopeful that it will pick up in the new year!”

It’s a Sin is on Channel 4 on 22 January at 9pm

#olly alexander #years & years #years and years #yearsandyears #articles #guardian #interviews #itsasin #boys #acting #television

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soundwavefucker69 · 3 years

Note

Baby Tal'ika: cuddles with Fox

☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

Let’s do this

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

The Jedi had, in fact, pulled away from Coruscant, and taken basically the entire GAR with them. Fox was pretty sure no one had expected that from them. He certainly hadn’t. The idea of the Jedi not being on Coruscant felt practically sacrilegious. But, here they were, on an uninhabited planet in the Inner Rim, building their own temple around a Force Nexus point, whatever that meant. Alderaan and Naboo had gone above and beyond to lend a hand to the Jedi, but everyone had been actually shocked at how self sufficient the Jedi actually were with their Service Corps. The AgriCorps alone were beasts, literally building the temple out of forcing literal trees and plants to grow in some strange way to form proper insulation and structure.

The temple finally had its living quarters, including the creche, built. For the past several months, Fox had been enjoying Tal’ika living in his hastily constructed home. Obi-Wan had been preoccupied with darting around the galaxy putting out fires, and while Fox, as a Commander, could have definitely been useful out there... He had a few months with Tal’ika in comparison to years spent with other people raising them.

Mace had assured him that he would still see them, and see them a lot. Jedi were partially rearranging their protocols regarding family separation, mainly because now that they were far removed from politics, there was a little more leeway in worries about outside influences. Jedi Initiates in the creche could have familial contact, instead of working up to contact once they were padawans. And, well, Fox was going to be working with the Jedi. A lot. Probably more than he should, but he was a workaholic, and it was probably a problem, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

In any case, tomorrow they would start moving the little ones into the creche, and Fox was going to have his hands full getting all of the cadets and babies from Kamino settled in the ‘barracks’, because they were going to start getting shipped in in the next week. The logistics was going to be a nightmare. And Tal’ika was going to be gone, off in the creche with the other Jedi babies, and he was no longer going to be waking up with a warm weight in his bed that should be in their own damned bed. He wasn’t going to be making breakfast for two, wasn’t going to be helping them with their education modules, wasn’t going to be coordinating childcare with the crechemasters and other clones that had volunteered to help keep the Initiates in line until they could keep them all contained. He wasn’t going to be hounding them to make sure they brushed their teeth, or struggling over the braids he had learned to make, or having running conversations in a mix-up of Basic and Mando’a with a kid who still couldn’t reach the floor with their socked feet when they sat at the kitchen table. He wasn’t going to be carting them off to work, wasn’t going to be wrangling them to eat their vegetables, wasn’t going to be blatantly ignoring their abuse of the Force because it was the Jedi’s job to get after them for having fun, not him.

Tal’ika probably wouldn’t be moved in until the end of the week, but it was still hurting. The loss. He had really gotten attached, but he also had to be incredibly honest with himself. The constant stream of the chip being activated in his brain had fucked him up on several levels. He was trying his best. He really was. But memories of what he had been forced to forget were slowly and steadily filtering back in, and he wasn’t handling it well. He was keeping it together as best as he could, for Tal’ika, because he only had a few months with them before they went to people that didn’t need to see a mind healer on a daily basis for the foreseeable future, but Fox was also well aware that he was in no position to raise a child. He still had nightmares of control being ripped away, watching his body murder his own child with no way to stop it. An unwilling spectator to hell. A failure of a father.

No, he needed to work this shit out away from Tal’ika, because his kid was a goddamn empath and could tell sometimes he was terrified of them, and that just wasn’t healthy for them. Or him. He wanted to be selfish and raise them on his own, away from the Jedi and a life of monastic servitude, but they wanted it. They craved being a Jedi like a Quarren craved the sea. He couldn’t just make the decision for them, and he had to admit that the structure of being a Jedi was probably for the best for a child that had been genetically engineered to be slightly unhinged.

He wasn’t enough for them, and it kind of stung. Not enough a sting to not be happy that he was giving them the best possible chance in life while still getting to be their buir, but it stung. Obi-Wan was going to be getting back from mop-up operations on Toydaria tomorrow, and they were going to be spending time together with Cody, and Fox’s time alone with Tal’ika was coming to an end. Tal’ika, the perceptive little thing that they were, knew he was getting worked up. He’d cooked their favorite meal, a flatbread kind of dish piled high with trash like cheese and cured meats and sauce, and bullied them to go take a damned shower, because they had taken a tumble off a hill today and were utterly drenched in dirt and leaves, and a change of clothes had done the bare minimum to spare his little house. He was going to have to clean. Now, while they were washing off in the fresher, he was alone with his spiraling thoughts and dishes, up to his elbows in the water as he scrubbed the excess that had built up over the day.

Soft feet padded down the hallway, and he scowled at the bit of lunch that was stuck on the pot, refusing to budge under his scrubbing. Tiny hands wrapped around his waist, and Fox froze as a little head thunked right in the middle of his back, wet hair pressing into his shirt as Tal’ika ground their face into his back.

“What’s up?” He asked, and their arms tightened around him.

“You’re upset,” they mumbled, and Fox swallowed.

“You’d be pretty upset if you were scrubbing this pot.”

“Then let it soak,” they grumbled, and he dried his hands, peeled his arms off from around his waist as he turned around. Undettered, they smacked their face right into his gut and clung to his stomach.

Ah. It wasn’t the empathy. They were upset, too.

With a sigh, he bent down to pick them up and carry them into the living room, flopping down on the couch and nabbing the blanket thrown over the arm. Without another word, they curled up in his lap, and he lifted and maneuvered them around so he could wrap them in the blanket.

“Did you brush your hair?” He asked, already knowing the answer, because the brush was sitting on the end table where he left it last night.

“No,” they mumbled, sounding utterly miserable, and he shifted them around so they were between his thighs. The brush was gathered up, and he started to work through their damp hair.

“You know you’ll still see a lot of me,” he reminded them, and they let out a huff of air.

“I know.” They didn’t sound convinced.

“You won’t be able to get rid of me,” he promised, though that wasn’t strictly true. They would be able to get rid of him, very easily, because as soon as everyone got everything functioning, he’d be fulfilling his duties as Minister of Education, which meant that he was going to be busy. Extremely busy. At least he wasn’t going to be Senator. They had offered him the position and he had looked Cody dead in the eyes and informed him if they let him into the Senate chamber without the threat of decommissioning looming over his head, there were at least fifty Senators that weren’t going to be making it out alive.

Rizz was going to be Senator. Fox thought they were the superior choice, personally. The Senate wasn’t going to know what hit them. One look of disappointment from Rizz would leave a shiny in tears, so it was probably going to be very effective in the Senate.

But.... Even so.

Tal’ika was glaring at the wall, which was basically just their way of showing that they were sad, and he sighed, leaning forward to press his forehead to the back of their head.

“We agreed on this, remember?” He murmured, his hands stilling, and Tal’ika tugged the blanket a little tighter around their shoulders.

“I know,” they muttered, but they didn’t sound happy about it. Was this what it felt like to send off your kid to boarding school?

“C’mere,” he said, deeming their hair appropriately brushed, and shifted them around so they were sitting more firmly against him. Tal’ika curled into his warmth, huffy and upset, and he leaned over to flick on their favorite holofilm.

“I think we can ignore your bedtime tonight. Obi-Wan isn’t here to get mad, is he?” He murmured, and Tal’ika snorted before wriggling around so they could watch the irritating holofilm he had memorized at this point.

“Obi-Wan doesn’t get mad. He gets disappointed,” they mumbled, and he snorted as he wrapped them up tight with as much love as he could put into his embrace.

“That he does,” he agreed smoothly. “That he does.”

Tal’ika’s attention flicked back to the holofilm, and Fox resigned himself to dramatic collapses on fainting couches and high end Core accents and ridiculous hairdos and pointless gestures to offset the jewelry dripping from their fingers from actresses having the time of their lives being as dramatic as they could. Why they loved these weird glam murder mysteries was beyond him, but at least it wasn’t a musical.

Tal’ika mouthed along to the lines they had memorized, and slowly and steadily, they started to relax in his grip. By the time they got to the torrid and helpless kiss in the rain that Fox knew for a fact was ruining the fur stole and silks the titular actress was wrapped in, they were a useless lump in his lap, and his mind was drifting back to the dishes abandoned in the sink. He still needed to finish them, but...

Something wet and slimy hit his neck, and his eyes locked on the wall as he realized they were definitely asleep and definitely drooling on him.

Well. Maybe a little longer. He knew as well as any clone that if he blinked, they’d be too big to do this again.

Just a little longer.

#realityhoudini #red fox comes running #shrooms is writing #tiny!tal'ika

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silveraccent · 3 years

Text

Rat Chef || Grace & Kaden

TIMING: Current. LOCATION: Grace’s apartment. PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup @silveraccent SUMMARY: Kaden visits Grace’s apartment with a pie. She offers soup in this trying time and they watch Ratatouille together.

Grace glanced down at her phone, surprised to see a text message from Kaden announcing his arrival. Why he was at her apartment, now absent of sand, she couldn’t be sure. Maybe he was here to see Blanche and Ariana, too. Grace thought back to hers and Morgan’s conversation, an attempt at pushing the idea she wasn’t worth anybody’s time or effort far from her mind. She paused her movie and hopped off of her three-seater couch before approaching the door just as a knock sounded. She pulled the door open and smiled at Kaden before stepping aside. “Oh, it’s you.” Grace let out a laugh before motioning him inside. He had a bag in his arms, leaving Grace to look at it curiously. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but uh, what’s up?” Suddenly, the fear of there having been something bad that happened-- to him-- no, he looked… fine. Better than the last time she had seen him. She fought the urge to interrupt him and simply flexed her fingers. Grace turned towards the television as it unpaused itself, allowing Ratatouille to start playing. “Son of a--” Grace hurried towards the remote and punched her finger into the pause button once more. ‘

Kaden still hadn’t found ways to fill his free time with anything other than baking. There was a comforting routine and trance that came from combining butter and flour and sugar together to make pies and pastries. In the kitchen, he was able to quiet his mind, push away the thoughts and fears threatening to pull him under at any moment. Perfection also didn’t matter, not in the same way that it did when in the field or on the job. Or even when dealing with people, lately. If he messed up in the kitchen, he could try again. He could rearrange it and make it something new. And he never had to share his failures or apologize to anyone. It was the one thing he was sure didn’t make people’s lives worse. It might not actively help anyone and it was probably a waste of fucking time, but he found himself wasting his time there more and more. The one problem? The excess of baked goods he didn’t need or particularly want. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, sometimes the stupid jokes at the Station got to him, picked away at his thick skin when people jibed at him. And he didn’t need any comments of any kind about his baking. No assumptions, either. It was easier to give the pies to Morgan to redistribute. But not this one. This pie had a home. At least he hoped. Ariana and Blanche already got their delivery and there was one stop left. He wasn’t sure if she even wanted the stupid pie, but he stood at Grace’s door and knocked anyway. “Hey,” he said as she greeted him. “I, uh, I went on another round of baking.” Another round. Right. Like he’d ever taken a single breather since the scream at the morgue save for the full moon. “Figured you might appreciate this pie more than me so I thought--” His brow furrowed as he stepped inside and heard the television jump to life again. It looked familiar. A little like the thing Blanche sent him the other day. “I see you found something other than that gossip show to watch.”

“Another pie?” Grace asked over her shoulder. She looked at his hands, the glass pie plate now familiar. “I’ll take it.” She thought about Morgan, how she had been helping him, too. Grace was no longer in the self-depreciating headspace. Sure, there were moments, but for the most part her conversation with Morgan and seeing Regan had helped her. She was still struggling with the idea that if something happened again, in any capacity, there’d not be much she’d be able to do to help. That was the reality of the situation, however. No matter how badly she wanted to help, maybe she was meant to stay back, to stand idly by. It wasn’t her speed, but in a town like White Crest, maybe she had no other choice. So this time, she’d accept the pie with a smile. She’d tell Kaden thank you instead of telling him she didn’t need his pity. She wouldn’t cry, either. She looked towards the television and let out a laugh. “Yeah. I haven’t seen this movie since I was a kid, but with all the conversation surrounding it…” She worried her lower lip before looking back over to him. “Let me take that.” Grace took the pie to the kitchenette around the corner before she poked her head out. “I just made some soup, it’s for Ari, but if you want some…?” Grace asked as she leaned against the wall. “Or if you had somewhere to be, I can pack it up for you?”

“Yeah, another pie. I mean, only if you want it. You don’t have to--” Kaden’s protests didn’t last long since she decided to take the stupid pie from him. He wondered if it was out of pity. He also wasn’t sure that it mattered one way or the other. He was ready to take off, leave her be and go back home when she called out from the kitchen. “Soup? I mean, I don’t want to impose.” Kaden rubbed the back of his neck. He hated admitting that he really didn't have anywhere else to be, pathetic as that was. It was here or a bar. Which was sadder? “But yeah if you want to share, I’d stay.” His eyes drifted back towards the screen. “So this is the movie people keep asking me about?” He didn’t mean to but he kept watching, trying to piece together what was going on. “Is there a reason why the rat talks?”

“Cool, take a seat.” Grace wasted no time in portioning out the soup into a bowl. Before his arrival, she had already had her fair share. She opened her instant pot and portioned out some of the beef as well, ladling it into the bowl. She set it down at the table, just adjacent in viewing from the television. She had spent many nights there, her sketchbook in front of her while The Office played in the background. “Yeah, I think so.” She grabbed a spoon and set it next to the bowl and walked towards the couch, sitting on the arm of it. Grace grabbed the remote and fidgeted with it for a moment. “Uh, no. They don’t ever explain that. But he’s sort of got this taste for gourmet foods that the rest of his colony doesn’t understand, and so he goes to this restaurant and ends up helping this clueless American chef there…” Grace let out a laugh. Since when did she know so much about kid’s movies? She looked over at Kaden with a smile. “If you want to watch it, I think it’d give you an edge to Blanche’s teasing. Then again, she might tease you for having watched it.”

“There’s no avoiding Blanche’s teasing, I’ve learned that much.” Kaden took a seat hesitantly, not because he didn’t enjoy Grace’s company or hospitality, but he just wasn’t used to any of this. He tried to think of how often he was really invited over to people’s houses just a year ago. Sure, he crashed with other hunters but that wasn’t the same as it was here in White Crest. It was funny how a town so hellbent on trying to kill them was sometimes so much warmer than anywhere else. “Thanks,” he told her as she sat the bowl down. She didn’t pour her own so he assumed she already had some herself. He took a spoonful, let the flavors hit his tongue and savored the meal. “This soup is great,” he said, flashing her a smile. It was different than what he would have made, certainly, but it was wonderful all the same. He listened to more of the movie as he ate, trying not to slurp too loudly as he did. “So you’re telling me the talking rat is a chef?” His brow furrowed. He had to admit, the cooking technique they were showing was accurate enough. “But why not watch something about actual rats? Or actual cooking programs?”

“She leaves me alone. For the most part.” Grace began to press the volume button up and down, not sure if Kaden was actually into staying-- was he being nice? He seemed unsure, too. Still, he was eating the soup, that was a good sign, right? Grace swallowed the anxiety and pressed play on the movie. It was a little louder than needed, so she instead turned on the subtitles and lowered the volume. “Really, you think so?” Grace’s attention flickered to the soup on the table, then to Kaden’s face. “I’m glad.” It was one of the only things that Grace had perfected from her grandmother’s recipes. They had made it so many times together, repurposing the broth for so much more, and Grace was happy to know that others liked it just as much as she had. It was a laborious process, not easy by any means, and it took hours to make, so the fact that Kaden was grateful, it made Grace feel at ease. “Yeah, sort of? He controls the American chef by pulling on his hair from underneath his hat.” Grace laughed, knowing how absurd it was. “It’s a fun movie, I don’t think it’s that deep. Sometimes you just… sort of need something not realistic, right? Something to take away from your day-to-day-life. I can’t think of anything further removed than a rat under a man’s hat guiding him on how to cook.” Grace shrugged lightly before twisting so that she sunk into the couch, ler legs over the arm that she had previously been sitting on. “The whole purpose is that the main chef at this place, he died, and so later on it’s under some issue? I think, and then a food critic’s entire opinion on the place will either destroy it or save it, and so Remmy becomes a hero, and by proxy the chef.”

“I’m just one of her favorite targets so I’m not surprised.” Kaden realized it had been a little while since he’d properly checked on Blanche beyond just dropping off a pie and felt a tinge of guilt, just for a second. He sighed and took another spoonful of soup. He could do that later, but he needed to make sure he didn’t accidentally dump any of the shit weighing heavily on him onto her. Maybe it was best he kept a little distance right now. “I wouldn’t say I liked it if I didn’t mean it. Wouldn’t keep eating it, either,” he told her. “Onion soup is usually my go to soup. I could make you some sometime if you want. I usually end up with enough to feed an army.” He wondered if that sounded like he was trying to compete or something. Putain. “Only if you want, no pressure.” He shook his head a little as he savored more of the broth and picked away at some of the beef with his spoon. “I don’t know. In this town, sometimes it’s nice to be reminded that normal things still exist.” People talked about escapism, usually they meant fantasy and fiction. Things they thought weren’t real but were. He knew better and the last thing he wanted was reminders of just how fucked up everything really was. For him, escapism meant pretending like none of it existed. That there was no magic, no monsters, and hell, no mimes. “So you’re telling me they let a rat in the kitchen? And the rat is the chef. And is the hero?” His eyes narrowed a moment. “Why does no one call the health inspectors?”

“Onion soup?” Grace asked over her shoulder, an eyebrow arched. “Like French onion?” Grace allowed the grin to pull at the corners of her lips, “you get it? ‘Cause you’re French?” To be honest, she wouldn’t even be able to tell if French onion soup was actually French or not, or if it was something thrown in to make it seem fancier than it actually was. All she knew was it was hard to clean it from mugs-- her past waitress jobs had proved as such. “Sure, I’ll give it a go. You’re eating my soup, so it’s only fair that I try yours too.” Grace thought for a moment to ask Kaden if he would bring Regan some, too, but she thought better of it at the last moment. The fiasco on the television, a clatter of cooking utensils and hurried yelling sends Grace’s attention back to the scene. “You mean to tell me that a rat under a man’s hat isn’t normal?” She said loudly over the scene, laughter edging on her tone. “Well, no, not everyone-- nobody knows he’s there except for that redheaded guy.” Grace watched the scene unfold a bit longer before she finally responded to Kaden, “I mean, why would the kid who wants to prove himself report the very reason he’s succeeding? He lies pretty much the entire time, but he gains fake respect, up until everyone discovers what’s actually happening.” Grace tapped her finger against her jaw, watching as Remmy finally disappeared from view. “I think if I ever get a rat, I’ll name him Remmy.”

“Well, yeah I am Fr--” Kaden blinked as she filled in the blank as a joke before he could finish. He smiled back, though, shaking his head a little. “Yes, very funny. Same soup though, I believe. I think that’s what it’s called over here. Beef broth, caramelized onions, toasted bread and gruyere on top.” Now he was worrying that she wasn’t a fan. Maybe he should offer other soup. He could make other soup, too. A small sigh of relief left him as she agreed to try his recipe. “Good. Hopefully you won’t be disappointed.” For whatever reason, he didn't want to let Grace down. Maybe it was because he got the feeling too many people had done that to her. Maybe it was because too many people had done that to him. Didn’t matter. She was going to get the best soup he could muster. Stupid as that maybe. He dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin and turned his attention back to the movie. “I mean in this town it could probably happen.” Which was half the problem. “I guess. But he’s going to probe himself with a rat under his hat?” It was silly and baffling. He still wasn’t quite sure he understood. But he couldn’t look away either way. “You know if you wanted a rat, we have a few you could adopt at the shelter. If you wanted. Rats make great pets. Really smart, trainable, too.” He saw the rat controlling the man with his hair and he shook his head a little again. “Not that trainable, though. For clarity.”

The volume on the television fluctuated, causing Grace to turn down the volume once more. Grace shrugged, “I’m not disappointed by a lot. I ate Easy Mac my entire first two months of living here, and in college, too.” She pulled the throw blanket from the other side of her love seat onto her lap and tucked it underneath her toes. When Kaden mentioned that something like the movie could happen in this town, Grace thought back to all of the things she had seen. No, not now. She couldn’t dive into the mysteries of White Crest, and certainly not worry about what it meant for her future, or anybody else’s future. Grace tucked the blanket underneath of her chin and tilted her head back to look at Kaden as he spoke. “Really?” She looked past him towards the tank she had gotten for Ruthie who, as always, stared her way. She had gotten used to it, and at this point, it seemed more like he was waiting for her to feed him rather than anything ominous. “I think that he could use a friend,” Grace pointed towards her fish. “It’s too bad though. About not being able to train a rat to cook. All I can seem to get right is this soup.” She propped her elbow up on the arm of the couch and pressed her fingers into her temples as she watched the food critic enter the restaurant. “Oh, this is where he’s taken back to his childhood by the way.” For whatever reason, this part of the film didn’t resonate with her-- there was nothing that could pull her away from where she was, making her succumb to an easier, prettier time.

“A low bar. Well I’m alright with that. It’s funny how many people around here think my cooking or baking is something special or what have you. I thought it was basic at best.” Kaden shrugged. He still didn’t think he was all that talented. Good enough, sure, but that was that. “Guess this town keeps the bar pretty low for most things.” Then again, with a death rate as high as White Crest’s, you had to keep something low. He followed her line of sight to the fish. It was a goofy looking thing, lopsided eyes, but charming in its own right. “I mean, better choice than a cat, that’s for sure.” He took another sip of the soup, it was honestly hard not to continuously gulp it down, but he did want to appreciate it. “I don’t think a cat would make friends with Ruthie the way you’d hope for. And hey, it’s damn good soup. So that’s better than most people.” He thought to Blanche and her attempts at cooking and nearly shuddered. “If you want to learn more, I don’t mind teaching you. I mean, if you want. I know a few sauces. You can use it as a base for most things. No pressure, though.” At this rate, he figured he really ought to open up lessons. Invite the town. Maybe charge. He looked back to Grace who was focused once more on the movie. No, he couldn’t charge her. He sighed and ate more of the soup before turning his attention to the movie. The tall french man in the movie flashed back to when he was a child. There was no mistaking the dish was ratatouille. And sure, a good dish could make him remember times past. It was part of why he liked baking, It reminded him of those small pieces of childhood without pain. They were short and sparse but they were there. For a moment, the dumb rat movie made him feel something. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Kaden cleared his throat and tried to push away any of the strange nostalgia swirling in him, threatening to push its way out. “So you’re telling me the rat made that food?”

“I think it’s that you do it at all,” Grace admitted as she kept her eyes on the television. The fact that Kaden had taken it upon himself several times to drop something off, even though they had hardly known each other at the time. There was guilt and pity in the hospital, but that subsided quickly. Now all Grace got from him was that he cared, which, to her surprise was genuine. There was no way he’d be able to lie about that and not falter. She had gotten good at figuring out when people were lying, mostly because of their highs and lows, the way they’d feel nervous, then determined. Her Grandma had taught her, too, how to watch out for such a thing. “Do you not like cats?” Grace cast him a glance before she looked down at the patterns on her blanket. Momentarily, Grace forgot about the constant issues between both fish and their feline friends. She let out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. Probably better for Ruthie’s heart rate to keep cats away from him.” Kaden’s offer had a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. The movie descended into a montage of the after effects of the food critic’s arrival. “That’d be cool, sure.” She wasn’t sure how often she’d put anything he’d teach her to use, but he seemed genuine in his offer and she didn’t want to disappoint him. Maybe she’d be able to pay him back somehow, maybe cook something elegant using what he taught her. For a moment, Grace caught the slightest feeling from Kaden-- what had that been? Alert, Grace stared at Kaden, unable to contain her expression from understanding what Kaden had just succumbed to. “You good over there?” She asked, quick to cover up her sudden interest. “Yes, the rat made it.” Grace let out a laugh at his attempt to change the subject, though he had no clue she knew what he was trying to change it from. Grace eyed him carefully before pausing the movie so that she could now focus on she and Kaden’s conversation. “He was a good chef, what did I tell you?” Grace grinned at Kaden before looking at his bowl. “If you want to take some home, you can.”

“I’ve lived by myself for most of my life, why wouldn’t I be able to take care of myself? Which means cooking. I don’t get why people are surprised.” He sighed. Kaden probably would have to chalk it up to cultural differences or some shit like that. He’d met too many people in town with no know how about cooking to be much else. “I like cats just fine. I was just saying I think the cat is going to like your fish a lot. And less as friends. More as food.” He looked at the poor fish. It didn’t need any more troubles, not looking like that. Swimming had to be hard while unbalanced as it was. The last thing it needed was a cat around to spook it. Or worse. “I’m fine, yeah,” he said, swishing his spoon through the soup. His brows furrowed as he thought about the question. Weird she should ask. He didn’t look off before or anything, did he? “Why wouldn’t I be?” There was no way she could know his thoughts, right? Putain, what if she could read his mind? Oh shit, he had to stop thinking about… things. Anything. How did one stop thinking about things? Putain. He didn’t know how to do that. He caught her eye as she mentioned the movie again. Alright, maybe he was overreacting. “It still seems like a silly movie. But sure. Whatever you say.” By now the soup was gone, the movie was over, and he should probably leave. “Oh. Uh, yeah. I would. But only if you have enough to spare. I don’t want to, uh, I don’t know, put you out I guess? Not sure that’s the word. But, I mean--” He paused, realized he wasn’t making any damn sense anymore and took a breath. “Yes. Let’s just go with yes.”

Grace shrugged, “I think around here, people usually cook to survive off of something, not to give it away or flaunt it.” At least, in her experience that had been the case. She only cooked her grandmother’s oxtail soup when she knew others were in need of it. Otherwise, her meals often consisted of boxed mac ‘n cheese. Not something she was afraid of admitting, but would often get looks sent her way if she did admit it. “That’s fair. I think a rat friend would be better for him.” The last thing she wanted to do was catch a cat with its paw in the tank, though she imagined if she put it up somewhere out of reach, it’d be fine for the most part. Could a fish die from shock? She filed the thought away to look into it later, just in case. Rats, for the most part, were harmless, or so Grace thought. There was a sudden surge of anxiety that rose from Kaden, making Grace’s lips twitch into a frown. Though he was trying to conceal it, it felt heavy in the room. Grace cleared her throat in an attempt to interrupt whatever Kaden was thinking, or feeling. “No, I was just making sure.” She shrugged again before getting off of the couch. Grace folded the blanket and set it to the side. “It’s a silly movie, but it’s a good movie-- they can coincide.” Grace moved towards the fridge when he expressed interest in soup to take home. The silver pot at the bottom of her fridge was still half full. “Don’t worry, it’s not like there isn’t enough-- I can’t eat all this on my own.” She began to ladle some into a to-go container after hefting the pot up onto the counter. On her tippy-toes, she looked over her shoulder. “I’ll send you a few recipes on how to repurpose the broth, too.” She turned back towards the pot, willing herself not to think too much of Kaden’s dip in emotions.

#chatzy #para: kaden #para: rat chef

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alias-b · 4 years

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sins of my youth. 006

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Aftermath of the dance! We learned about the rest of Billy’s night. Both babies struggling before school starts up again. TW: Pica and self loathing. Mentions of guys pursuing underage girls. Taglist open!!!

Chapter 6: Hard Candy

“Anyone up?”

“No, everyone is hungover.” Evie looked around. Everything frosted this morning like a peaceful snow globe. Eternal winter. Gorgeous and destructive. She didn’t kiss Fredrick goodbye. “Thank you.”

“We’ll talk again when school starts up. Don’t call, it’s too risky."

"But-"

"I’m just...risking everything to be with you, do you know that?”

He snatched her wrist when he said that. Pressed down on the pulse there. It sped.

“Yes...I’ll be careful. Do you still love me this morning?” Unsure of what answer would scare her more.

He smiled, grip loosening.

"Yes."

That sufficed. Evie slid out in her dress from yesterday. Watched some dead leaves whirl through the forest before she got onto the sidewalk. Cherry Lane awaited. Bowers turned his car on to slip away unnoticed so she could walk to her house. Mona's car was gone which meant errands.

And whoever her mother brought home to celebrate the New Year with hadn’t stayed.

Evie had the displeasure of running into a few at breakfast. These men who never lasted. Who froze like a deer in headlights to offer sheepish smiles as if she was stupid about why they were there. Who thought they'd be back. Ha ha. Thankfully, Mona mostly slept with guys not from Hawkins.

Billy’s Camaro was nowhere in sight either. Evie went into her house. Greeted Bourbon and crossed to the bedroom. The mess there replayed all of last night again. Dresses strewn all over her bed. Makeup spread on the vanity.

Evidence of a girl excited to have a great night. With a striking boy. Where she felt beautiful. She pictured herself holding dresses against her body at the mirror. Spinning. Happy.

Wishes.

Evie sucked in some air. Tied her hair back. Hung each dress up again. Pulled her own garment off and tossed it in the trash.

“Maroon is stupid.” She mused in her bra and underwear. “You should have worn blue.” Sighing to sit at the vanity, fingers rubbed her eyes pink. She organized makeup. Tried and failed to avoid the reflection in the mirror.

Her mother wouldn’t want to hear of this. So, Evie tried to look on the bright side. Pressed her palms flat. Looked at the mirror.

“I danced with a boy. A pretty boy and he made me feel…”

Isn’t it funny? Pretty funny. The words caught. Piled up and went back down her throat. Perched like they could become a scream but never returned with a vengeance.

She looked at her skin. Excess flesh. It didn't always bother her. Evie knew what she looked like and how the world preferred to see her.

A fist banged into her collar. Growling, she beat at herself. Unable to stop. Weak little bashes against herself.

“Why?" She clenched. "Why do you look like this!”

Fists rubbed her eyes again raw so no tears could flow. Nothingness. Just her soul spinning out of control all sweet and silent. She always did the world and her mother that courtesy. No use crying over spilled milk, just appreciate what you have. Depression and anger, those were ungrateful little phases and pushing them aside was ingrained into her synapses.

Mona made it look so easy.

Evie knocked into the side table, sending her needle felting project to the floor.

“Fuck.” Snatching items up, a sharp edge plucked her finger.

Blood beaded against the skin. A single prick like Sleeping Beauty. Evie calmed at the grim sight. Brought the finger to her lips. Sucked.

Slowly picked up everything else and saw a shiny button there. The same color as her dress from last night. Two fingers held it up so light could stream into the holes. Tiny heavens opening.

Her mouth watered. She no longer heard the laughter. Fredrick’s heavy breathing in her ear. Her mother chided her to smile through pain. Take bitter life pills with a spoonful of sugar. More noise fluttered away. Thunder while she hid in a dark closet. A hand on her leg.

Evie ran the big, acrylic button across her lip. Clicked it on her teeth and liked the sounds. Wind chimes in the fall glimmering.

Hard candy.

It slipped along her tongue. Shifted around saliva. Evie tipped her head back. Eased it down her throat as if it were another bitter pill.

Why do this? Just to see if she could. To see what would happen. To silence all the chaos she choked down.

Dead silence when it was done. Evie sat there tracing her lips with curious fingers. Pictured the pretty button decorating her insides. She could make art inside herself. Snapping her heart back together.

The exact sensations drained.

Tired and sore, Evie crawled under her bed covers. Decided to sleep and dream as deep as she could.

** ** **

Billy’s night before wasn’t much better.

“What the fuck?” He had blazed back into that shitty bar. Found Brock laughing around his friends and grasped his shirt. “You-”

“Billy, I think you want to let me go, my dad has too much influence. He’s friends with your mayor, you know.” Brock had his hands up to wave his boys off. Billy growled low at him, inches away.

“You think I give a shit that you’re rich?”

“I”m just saying I can make shit difficult on your family. I’m sure your daddy won’t like that, I hear you guys make a lot of noise on Cherry Lane. Could make Fenny’s life harder too, if you care.”

Billy’s grip loosened and Brock smiled. Tommy saw Billy's eyes change and hadn't even chuckled when the boy returned.

“Aw, Hargrove’s gotta little crush. That’s cute.” More laughter.

That did it.

A fist smashed into his cheek.

Brock was sent flying back out of his chair at the same time Billy raced out. Didn't care to watch and enjoy the sight of that boy nearly doing a back flip.

Money tore from his pocket and shoved into Bubble’s hand.

“Take this.” Billy didn’t count how much he’d given her. Picking up the pace before Brock and his goons could pursue him.

“Billy!” Tommy had called after him, but the boy was out into the cold and headed toward his car.

Evie was long gone. He still scanned the city in his Camaro trying to spot those brown curls and that maroon dress. Felt like an hour passed. She looked empty when she’d left.

Billy almost wished she’d cried or hit him. Something. Anything.

“Shit.” He pulled up to a little blonde waiting in the chill. Holding an oversized jacket close and craning to see down the street. “Hey, weren’t you Brock’s date?” Her face was pinched in discomfort. Shifting steps before she gave a nod. Seemed smaller there alone as drunks rushed about in celebration. “What are you doing?”

“Mm...waiting for the taxi.” She had a paper towel pinched between her fingers, trying to get a wet stain out of her dress collar. Billy’s gut twisted because he knew what it was.

“Get in, I’ll drive you home.” Billy sat back and waited. Reluctantly, she crossed over to join him. Face splotchy like she might have teared up earlier. Pulling pins out of her hairstyle. Billy figured Brock must have ruined it getting his blowy.

“Thank you.”

He revved to go in response after getting the address. Stony and intent on the road for once.

“It’s this one.” Was all she said once they’d gotten close to her building. Run down and dilapidated. Reminded Billy of the shitty apartment complex he’d lived in with his dad after mom walked out.

“How old are you?” Billy turned to see her and she cringed.

“I’m...fourteen.”

Fourteen. Barely a year older than Max.

And he’d only been fourteen when...

Nausea swept up his throat. Billy hitched to breathe and dug into his pocket for whatever was left of the cash Brock gave him. Felt like a true piece of shit.

“That guy, don’t go near him again. He asks you to come out or do things for him. Like sexual things... Don’t do it. Just stay away from him. Got it?” Billy reached out and dropped the wad of crumpled cash into her palms. “And don’t get into anymore cars with older boys. They’re gonna hurt you.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me.”

“No, kid, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Billy gestured. “Go inside, it's cold.”

She listened, getting out to disappear into the building. Billy rubbed his eyes because they watered. Music turned up to drown the world out before he skidded off. Made it back into Hawkins and parked at Lover’s Lake.

Decided sleeping in his Camaro was the better idea than going home. Not wanting to face Evie’s bedroom window or her old, scrutinizing cat. She wanted nothing to do with him.

Reclined in the back seat, Billy touched his lips and fell into an uneasy rest.

Woke with his head pounding and birds calling out. A truly grey day. He huffed to get out, pissed near a tree, and made it home to park in the driveway next to Neil’s car. Hadn’t left for work yet.

A groan as Billy climbed the steps to go in, felt like he might vomit at the scent of a warm breakfast. Susan playing housewife. Setting plates at the table between Neil and Max.

“Billy, are you hungry?” She caught him. Billy eyed his father reading the paper.

“No.”

“Come, sit down. Eat the nice breakfast Susan made.” Neil’s snap had Billy turning to plop down. He looked like hammered shit. Susan settled a plate of fluffy eggs and bacon down in front of him. Max was staring so Billy shot her a look to stop. “What do you say?”

“Thank you, Susan.” Billy rasped, picking up a fork.

“What’d you do last night?” Neil asked without looking up from his paper.

“Just some party.” A shrug followed. Susan had sat down with her own plate when the doorbell rang.

“Answer that.” Neil pointed her off so she left her plate to get cold and went into the next room. Billy wondered if Susan's ever eaten a warm meal after getting with his dad.

“Susan!” Mona’s chirpy voice piped up.

Billy dropped a bit of eggs in his lap. Had Evie told her?

“I’m so sorry to bug you early. Can I trouble you for a cup of flour? My poor Evie’s taken ill, I wanted to make her something nice for breakfast. Forgot to pick some up, I didn’t know we ran out. For pancakes. I’ll owe ya.”

Billy’s eyes were darting all over the table.

“No problem, come in.” Susan came back in with a measuring cup. “Sorry to hear about Evie.”

“Just an upset stomach, a couple of my fluffiest pancakes should do the trick.” Mona had followed. “Morning all. Happy New Year. I hope Hawkins made good on the festivities.”

Billy couldn’t look at her. Just shifted scrambled eggs around aimlessly.

Neil peered at Mona’s tight clad legs in her little shift dress. Already looking her best this morning after running quick daylight errands.

“Now, Max, I’d love to see you at my salon with your mama.” Mona clasped her hands and Max snickered because she hinted at that every time she saw the younger girl.

“We’ll be sure to visit before school starts up again. Won’t we, Max?” Susan filled the cup.

“Be sure to bring, Billy, I love doing boy’s hair too.”

“You might convince him to cut this all off.” Neil remarked plainly when Billy’s tired eyes lifted. Mona just smiled.

“The boys love to look like rock stars these days, sir. It's the in thing.” She took the flour. “I’ll leave you to your meal. Say, how about I make you your first dinner of the new year? I know it’s been such a change.”

Susan opened her mouth and shut it, peered at Neil for his answer.

“That’s a wonderful offer,” he replied, “only if we can bring the dessert.”

There he was. The charming family man.

Mona gave a cute giggle.

“I’ll take you up on that. Is six alright?”

“We’ll be there, Mona, thank you. I hope Evie feels better by then.” Susan wiped her hands on a towel and showed her friend out.

“Oh, she’ll be fine. My girl's strong.”

Billy grew bright pink. Fuck.

Susan came back to sit down. Got a few bite in before Neil stood and kissed her cheek. Dug a few bills out of his wallet.

“Make what you like, have it ready.”

“Thank you, honey.” She jumped when Neil unceremoniously smacked the back of Billy’s head.

“What!” He cringed away in his chair, dropping the fork with a clatter.

“You see the kind of attention you get when you look like a fucking fa-”

“She was just being nice.” Billy shot back.

Neil sneered and was already making his way out. Max wordlessly reached to pick up the fork and settled it next to his plate. She eyed him again once the door slammed and Neil made his way to work. Susan stared at her cold eggs.

“We should go.” Max sighed. Something happened between him and Evie. Something ugly. “To the salon.”

“You hate that shit.” Billy lost his appetite and sat back. Pushing up out of his chair.

“We’ll need a ride anyways. Neil always has the car and it’s better than the bus.”

“Do I look like I’m your damn taxi?” Billy snapped. Noted Susan flinching, but she didn’t get between them. Max sat straighter. Too calm and observant.

“No, you look sad.”

“Fuck off.” Billy shoved up and left his plate there.

“Maxine.” Susan stood. “Billy-”

A door slammed. Max debated it and went after him.

“Don’t, he’s upset.” Susan snatched her daughter’s wrist.

“Yeah and he’s not Neil.” Max slipped off, leaving Susan to frown at her plate and pull her sleeves down a little lower.

Summoning more courage, Max knocked.

“Go away.” Came the muffled reply she ignored. Pushing in. “Just fucking go away.”

Billy was under the covers. Having tossed his jeans and shoes aside. He didn’t raise his voice, it only got raspier.

“Didn’t you take Evie to that party? What happened?” Max shut the door. Crossed toward the bed.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“She came home before you. This orange car passed when I was sitting in the open garage fixing my wheel. I saw Evie come out at the end of the street and go home. She looked upset.”

“An orange car?”

“Yeah, like a rusty orange. Old car too, a Plymouth like my dad used to drive. I saw a man in the front seat. He looked like a dad too. Evie was in the car with him.”

Billy’s head lifted to see her. Max didn't often see this look on her brother's face. Horror.

“A dad?”

“I don’t know, it was weird. He didn’t drop her off at her house. He passed it and she walked back.” Max shrugged, dared to sit on the bed when Billy pushed up.

“Did you see his face?”

“I think I’ve seen him before, I don’t know where. I was too far away. He kinda looked like Neil. Lighter hair.”

“Mustache. Blond.” Billy’s eyes searched. He got up. “Gotta shower.”

“Billy, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, Max." A dismissive hand waved. "Just stay out of it.”

“You messed up, didn’t you?” She paused when he whirled around. Thought he’d get upset. But, he only exhaled and turned to go. Stopping again when his thought was too much.

“Max, you know not to get into cars with older guys. Right? Even if they’re pretty? Even if they call you pretty too.” Billy found her eyes and looked defeated. Something else rare for him to show.

“Duh.” Max shrugged. A beat. “You haven’t told Neil about Lucas.”

“You haven’t knocked my dick in the dirt with a fucking nail bat. Don't care that you see boys as long as they don't... Just don't let Neil know you hang out with them.” He opened the door. “Out.”

Max beamed a little.

“Apologize to Evie.” She passed with an obvious huff.

As if it was that easy.

** ** **

“Mom, I really don’t feel good.” Evie mopped around in a robe after taking a long shower. Mona was touching her forehead. A barely there graze before she went to sort some items in the cupboard.

“You feel fine. It’s just dinner. Socializing is good for the soul.”

“Mom, I really don’t-”

“Evie, just smile for a few hours. Please, I want them to feel welcome. You can do that.” Mona waved her hand about.

Evie shut her mouth. Flashed teeth beyond twitching lips. Moved to go off into her room where Bourbon sat sleeping. His eyes cracked before he gave a purr and resumed slumber.

"Least one of us had a good New Years." Evie organized some empty decorative boxes and dishes on one of her bookshelves. Hummed in thought at another shelf full of collectibles. Felt the cool metal of an antique key no bigger than her pinkie.

It tasted vaguely bloody. Clanked around in her mouth. Harsher than the button. Such a forbidden thing. That much was almost thrilling. Evie tried once to push it down. Choked. Coughed it up onto her desk with a small clatter.

Just grin and bear it. You can suck it up, Mona said in her head. Encouragement. Always necessary. Evie picked up the key, spit trails came from it. Forced it to the back of her tongue. Swallowed once. Twice.

It seeped awkwardly down. Dropped into her stomach with the few buttons she’d eaten too.

Evie wondered if they’d dance with her as she navigated the world. Falling back into bed. Debating the musical clicking sounds underscored by growing flowers inside her.

She thought of Fredrick winding around her frame. Kissing her jaw. Teaching her things. There was a soft boy before him, but he’d moved out of state. Mr. Bowers plucked her off the floor after her father left. Talked about how it was forbidden too, but it never stopped him from kissing her.

This is so wrong. Kiss. But, you're irresistible. Kiss. The world just doesn't understand. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

It was funny how you could be so desired by a person who also constantly tells you it's wrong.

But, that won't stop them. Excess skin. Age. What would bother people more if they knew?

She’d sit on his bed and he’d join her. Put his hand up her leg and…

“Evie!” Mona called. “Can you help me here? I won’t let you stay in that room all day for New Years.”

Evie sprang up to gulp air. Held it. Felt in total control of her existence.

“Coming.”

** ** **

Evie hung back when the knocks rang. Stuck her head in the freezer and swallowed an ice cube whole. Wondered if this new habit would ruin her appetite. Wondered why she wasn’t horrified and ashamed of herself. It was just so quiet when it happened. Soothing. None of the ugly white noise in her daily life clustered.

Nobody needed to know. It was wrong, that wouldn't stop her.

“Honey! Come in and say hello.”

Another ice cube slid down her throat. Felt like good practice.

Wiping cold, wet fingers on her denim skirt, Evie appeared around the corner to see the Hargroves standing in her living room. Billy tried to catch her eyes.

“Hi,” a shy wave followed, “Happy New Year.”

“Evie, you look so pretty today.” Susan crossed to greet her with a dish. “I made cherry cheesecake for dessert.”

“Looks good, thank you, I’ll put it in the kitchen.” Evie pulled it from her hands. Candied and red on top of fluffy filling.

“Mona, I insist on helping.” Susan had gone on.

“You’re my guest, Susan.” Mona looked up from Neil’s hand. Pressed in a nice polo and blue slacks. He offered a little bouquet of snapdragons tied together with tissue paper and twine. Also had a bottle of white wine. “It’s almost ready, please sit at the table. Evie just set it.”

Evie snuck out of the kitchen again and saw Billy there staring pointed at her with an expression she couldn’t read. Averted her eyes to the little redhead next to him.

“Hey, Max, enjoying break?”

“While it lasts,” she glanced up at her brother as Evie shuffled away. Mona handed her the flowers to put in a vase. “That bad?” Max addressed Billy quietly.

“Yeah.”

Evie looked at him like he was nothing to her. No anger, no sadness. Just a big, gaping nothing.

Somehow that was worse.

“The flowers are lovely, Mr. Hargrove. Thank you.” Evie came out to settle the vase on a side table in the dining room as he pulled out a chair for Susan.

“We’re neighbors. Neil and Susan are fine, Evie.” He was all sweetness. The doting husband. Billy crept around the corner with Max.

“I should help my mom.” Evie made herself disappear.

“It smells good.” Max crossed to sit down as well across from Billy.

“I made something special from home. Jambalaya. Tried to go easy on the spice for your stomachs.” Mona brought a dish in after Evie sent some fresh rolls at the table. Her cheeks flush because her mother sat down too quick. The only free spot was the opposite head of the table between Max and Billy.

She suppressed a groan and crossed to take it. Offered sodas to Billy and Max wordlessly.

“Would you like to join me in the prayer?” Mona offered her hands out to Neil and Max.

“Of course.” Neil only smiled. Evie shifted in her seat. Felt Billy’s eyes burn. Took Max’s hand and stared at Billy’s open palm. Was this a game to him?

She took it. Squeezed it maybe a little too tight. Stared ruefully at her empty plate. Max noticed Billy’s knuckles pale and smirked at his tense expression.

“Bless us, Lord, and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ. Bless the Hargroves, we are truly grateful to have them join us tonight. Please guide our children through a successful year, we pray. Amen.” Mona smiled. “Please dig in. I always make so much.”

“Allow me.” Neil plucked up the wine and poured three glasses for the adults.

“First Christmas and New years in our town. I have to ask if it was a memorable one?” Mona started conversation. The rolls and dishes were passed around.

“First white Christmas we’ve ever seen, it was beautiful.” Susan radiated.

As the adults chattered about boring Christmas gifts, Max turned to Evie.

“Mom got me some of that felting stuff, you can teach me how to do it now.” She flashed a smile. “Can you show me after dinner?”

“Sure.” Evie was tearing her roll into two pieces. Eyed the butter next to Billy and decided to eat it without. “Eager to stab something a million times into a cute shape?”

“Duh.” Max kicked Billy’s ankle. Tried to get him to speak, but he shoved a huge bite of rice into his mouth. “Maybe I can show, El.”

“El?” Evie sipped her soda.

“This new girl I’m hanging out with. Chief Hopper’s kid, he wants her to have more girl friends.” Max chuckled, twirling her fork around. “We didn’t...get along at first, but it’s better now. We found things in common.”

Another kick at Billy’s shin. He glared. Nudged her foot back.

“Easier when you’re younger.” Evie remarked.

“We’re gonna find Evie a talent agent this summer,” Mona had spoken across the way, “she won all these competitions these last few summers. Sung for the governor himself at an event when she was only thirteen.”

“Mom…” Evie blushed. She loved this food and today, it looked ghastly somehow.

“Being a singer is difficult work.” Neil spoke. “How are you going to make money in the meantime?”

“She’s good,” Billy found his voice, “real good. She can make money singing.” A cold stare penetrated. “Miss Mona, weren’t you a pageant queen?”

That turned the adult conversation for the rest of the dinner. Mona and Susan prattled with Neil stuck between them. Miserable and having to hide it. Billy turned to Evie. Smirked.

“Can you pass the butter?” She blinked at him. Reached for another roll.

Billy cocked his head and handed it over. Evie didn’t want to fall into those pretty eyes again. Listened to her mother and Susan chatter eagerly with Neil chewing and nodding every so often.

Evie saw him fill his glass of wine three times.

“Let me help you clear this for dessert.” Susan was stacking plates so Evie got up to help. Neil drank his last glass down as he sat back. Clearly extremely relaxed.

“Neither of you are going to offer extra hands?” He’d barked under the sound of dishes in the sink and the TV in the next room.

“It’s fine, we have it.” Evie came to set the pie down at the center of the table. Neil snatched her wrist to observe her expression. Eyebrows lifting.

“You’re a very kind, young girl, Evie. You should sing us something.” Alcohol on his breath welled hot. He was drunk and hiding it better than most. Barely ate any dinner because the spices weren’t for him.

Max’s fists clenched on the table and Billy moved like he might stand up.

“Oh, I couldn’t.” Evie replied, another bout of strawberries crept up her cheeks.

“Can’t be a singer if you’re shy.” He chuckled.

“She was sick this morning, she probably shouldn’t.” Billy came out of his chair carefully. Eyes direct on his dad clutching Evie’s wrist.

The fingers loosened so she crossed behind Billy. Paused there so Neil could see who her shield was. Got back into a chair.

Billy slowly sat back down.

Neil would deal with him later.

“Susan, this looks delightful. I hope you’re willing to share the recipe. I haven’t mastered the cheesecake yet.” Mona ushered her friend back in. Neither felt the tension as Neil and Billy stared at each other. Not stopping when the cake was cut and passed around.

“I’ll write it down for you.” Susan offered Billy a piece, caught Neil’s eyes. “Neil says that’s what made him fall for me. Way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Neil pressed this tight smile and laughed with the two ladies. None of the kids followed.

“Better if you just go through his chest.” Max had mumbled. Stabbing a bright red cherry with her fork. Evie suppressed the urge to snicker. Swallowed the sweet treat and excused herself when the meal ended. Max trailed after.

“Want to show me? No plans tonight.”

“Sure.” Evie twitched a smile.

Mona was pulling Susan out onto the back deck while Evie grabbed a basket she kept her craft items in. A body blocked her in the hallway.

“Evie, can I see you outside?” Neil wasn’t particularly tall, but he certainly had a presence.

Her eyes went steady on Billy at the end of the hallway behind him.

“Yes, sir.” She glanced again and Billy disappeared. “Max, want to use my desk? You've seen my room, I can show you this. Don't mind Bourbon snoring, he's been extra tired today.”

“Yeah, sure.” Max took it after an uneasy beat so Evie followed Neil out front.

“It was a lovely dinner, I don’t go much for exotic food.”

“From New Orleans, Louisiana.” Evie replied flatly. “I guess.” Neil was all pleasantries. Shifting on his feet and breath smelling of wine.

“You just seem nervous around Billy. My boy has a history.” He gestured. “Not a very nice history with girls like you.”

“Girls like me?” Evie’s nervous hands rubbed together in front of her. Shoulder’s lifting.

“Girls who are just a little…” Bigger. Darker. Stranger. Exotic. “Different.”

“Billy and I...Well, we don’t really talk.”

It was clear Neil wanted some admission out of her. Just for the sake of it.

“I just mean, if my boy has been unkind to you. I’d like to know about it. Billy gets into trouble and it’s my job to keep him out of it.” Neil stepped in. “You’re a very nice girl, boys take advantage. That's all I'm saying.”

“We…” Evie’s lip wobbled. “We don’t talk, sorry. Billy hasn’t…”

“If my boy steps out of line, Evie, I’d like to know about it.” Neil smiled again. “Tell your mother I said thank you for dinner. No doubt, she’ll keep Susan busy another hour.”

“Sure.” Evie watched him step down the porch. Stumbled and recovered quick. “Goodnight.”

The moment Neil went into his house, no doubt for another bottle, Billy slid out of the front door.

“You didn’t say anything. To your mom or anyone.” He observed plainer. Unreadable. "Why?"

“Your dad’s gone, Billy, we don’t have to pretend anymore.” Evie replied without a tone. Stepping around him. Sparing him a beating maybe. No emotion to give him.

He wasn’t worth it.

That replayed over and over again. No tears, no anger. Just ice. Cool and sleek.

Evie went back into her house.

Billy decided another night in his car away from Cherry Lane was better.

** ** ** **

“You can glue the eyes in now.” Evie applied some from a tube and pushed two tiny eyes into Max’s project.

“Looks like a monster.” Max snickered at the hideous yellow blob. “It was supposed to be a baby chick.”

“Ah, takes practice. Just keep stabbing. Give it to your mom, she’ll display and love it forever because you made it.” They sat at her desk under a little lamp. Max looked at Evie twisting wool around to make a shape, plucked up the project she’d made. “Kinda strange, you stab something a million times until it’s pretty. Keeps my hands busy though.”

“Trying to stay distracted?” Max piped in. Bourbon lifted his head behind them and wandered over for pets.

“When you get older, all you want is distractions.” Evie shrugged her shoulders and sat back. Let her cat sweep their legs.

“What happened with you and Billy?”

“Huh? Nothing.” Evie managed to smile.

“I know he took you to a party and...he came home without you looking trashed like he crawled out of a dumpster.” Max paused. “Someone else took you home.”

“I just got a ride from another friend. I don’t rage like Billy does.” Lie.

“You’re mad at him.”

“I’m not mad. I don’t…” I don’t want to feel anything. Sadness and fury. They weren’t to be processed or discussed. They made you ungrateful.

“Did you have a bad time? Did he get mad? He gets mad and does stupid stuff.” Mad Max was too sharp for this entire bland town. Evie sucked in her cheeks.

“No, I had a great time actually. That was the problem.” A wave crashed into her. Covered in metallic confetti. Magical. Crushing.

“What happened?” Max pressed.

“It’s not for me to say, I don’t want to-” Evie sprang up and the door opened.

“Sorry girls, Susan was headed out.” Mona dipped in without knocking. “Having fun?”

“Yeah.” Max stood up. “Thanks, Evie, I’ll keep practicing. As long as it takes.” Felt like she was hinting at something else.

“Night, Max.” Evie watched her mother show the younger girl out. Quickly swept her craft supplies back into a basket and plucked up her old cat. Listened to him purr. Decided another long night of sleep and late morning was better.

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

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