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ok last piece tonight

the prompt: what if i put my main two nb characters on this blog ( from two wildly different universes, no less ) together.

titanis, who is a 37ft tall giant ex-gladiator, meets devin, a 3in tall borrower

neither of them are having a good time 😓

#oh my gosh he's so tiny #titanis can't move from that position xD

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Cursed Cravings, Chapter 9: A Taste So Bittersweet

In which Christopher gets a taste of the past, thanks to Danny. Contains: 2.1k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

Christopher felt a little more confident about preparing Danny’s food the next morning, given that it hadn’t ended up all over his shirt the day before. It was a mindless task for him, but he found a simple sort of peace in preparing the food the enchanted kitchen kept stocked and fresh, portioning it as much as he could into a size that was manageable for Danny to consume. He often wondered why Sybil had given him a magically stocked kitchen with food for his size, not humans, but he wrote it off as just another form of torment. A way to further taunt him with the most glaring issue his awful, cursed body possessed—he couldn't taste any of it.

“I’m glad you’re finally eating the food I make for you,” he remarked smartly to Danny as he set her tray down next to her bed, where she was still tangled in the sheets, her hair bedraggled and her eyes laden with the weariness of having been woken up too soon, even though the sun had long since risen past the horizon. 

She sat up slowly, looking at him curiously as her eyes narrowed in confusion. “Wait, you made that?” She gestured toward her tray. “But Sam said you didn’t eat food. How do you know how to cook?”

Christopher tried not to look too taken aback, but it was hard to repress when she’d broached a topic dangerously close to questions he couldn’t—and didn’t want to—answer. “They told you that?” God, what else have they told her? I really need to keep a closer eye on them. 

“Uh…yeah. How do you…I mean, you’ve never had food before? Like, ever?” 

She didn’t seem judgmental, but her curiosity didn’t seem to heed the generally accepted standard of avoiding prying into other people’s lives. 

“...no,” Christopher lied smoothly. He couldn’t speak about the curse if he’d wanted to, or even allude to the fact that there had ever been a time that he had been human like her, and not truly a giant at all. Thankfully, he’d had plenty of practice in crafting a believable tale around his identity, so the lies flowed as easily as breathing for him. “I don’t really know what food tastes like, but I’ve read many books to help me learn how to cook for my…human guests. It’s always been an interest of mine, even if I can’t experience it fully.”

The statement wasn’t entirely untrue—it had been so long since he’d been human that he had started to forget what normal food tasted like at all. The meals he prepared for Danny didn’t even have a scent to him anymore—even Sam could smell the aroma of fresh-baked bread and sweet desserts without a body, somehow. But to him, it was all an empty, hollow sensation. If he tried to smell any of the food, or put it upon his tongue, it was bland and tasteless, prompting his body to respond with the same level of disgust as one might have if they tried to ingest a handful of dirt from the ground. 

For a few years, it had made him rather melancholy, to not be able to partake fully in one of his favorite hobbies anymore. Even before his parents’ death, he’d always found his way into the kitchen, begging the cook to let him try to make something. He’d spent so much time in the kitchen with Sam once everyone else had left, often taking the duty from his manservant entirely. It had helped to give him something to do, to keep his mind off of things.

Now, his tongue was stained with but one taste—only one thing met it with any sort of flavor. Thinking of it still made his stomach turn over.

Danny chewed thoughtfully, regarding him with an expression that suggested she believed him—just barely—but found his statement even more curious as a result. “Do you…want to know what your food tastes like? I could try…describing it to you.”

Christopher tilted his head, a slightly dumbfounded grin on his face as he was broken out of his trance by her unexpected offer. “You’d do that?” 

She shrugged nonchalantly, pointedly looking away from him again as if the idea had started to embarrass her. “I mean, if you’ve never eaten anything it might be a little difficult to explain, but I can try.” 

Christopher tried to hide his excitement and failed, his grin tipping upwards slightly as a humored curiosity stirred inside of him. “Go ahead, doll.” 

Danny picked up the tiny sliver of bread he’d carved off for her and took a bite thoughtfully. “It’s…warm. And…crispy, but soft on the inside. It’s sort of like…there’s something about bread that feels satisfying, and comforting. It makes you feel full. I guess, besides the way it tastes…” Her eyes gained a sort of far-off stare to them, as if she was looking at an entirely different scene. “...bread makes me think of family, and being content and safe. Even when we didn’t have a lot of other food, we’d usually be able to make some bread, at least, and that was enough for the moment.”

She blinked a few times, as if coming back to the present—looking slightly embarrassed as she did so and glancing down at the tray. “But, um. Your bread’s pretty good. I don’t know if any of that made sense.”

Christopher leaned lazily against an arm that he propped up on the chair, gazing intently past Danny. For whatever reason, her explanation filled him with a sort of nostalgia. Even if it wasn’t quite an experience he knew personally, as “family” had never been a concept so warm and loving to him, he thought that for a second he could taste bread on his tongue again, as if she’d somehow brought the concept to life for a fleeting moment. The taste was gone as soon as it had come, if it had even come at all—but the warmth it brought him remained.

The compliment also didn't evade him. A smirk overtook his face.

“It made perfect sense. Please, continue.” 

Danny gave him a somewhat uncertain, skeptical look before she continued on, picking up a piece of the sausage he’d cut down to be handled by her. Though he of course had no human-sized silverware to give her, he found it a little humorous that she simply used her hands to eat without a second thought. He used to get his own hands smacked for doing so as a child. 

“This is kind of…well, it’s a bit fancier than what I’m used to back home, but it’s, um…savory? And a little spicy. I, uh, guess you wouldn’t know what that means. Um…” Her head bobbed from side to side as she tried to think of a way to explain it.

Christopher did know those sensations, faint as they were in his memory, but he was finding her struggle a little humorous to watch.

“...it’s sort of like, your tongue stings a little, but it’s not painful. And…” She chewed on, pensively. “It’s like every time you think you get one flavor down, there’s another spice or something you can catch. I don’t know, I’ve…we don’t get to use a lot of spices back home. And meat’s kind of a special occasion thing, at least stuff like this. This is…it’s kind of exciting, like you keep unraveling new things the longer you eat it. But all the flavors work together to make something really, uh…” She waved her hands around in circles to articulate her point. “...complete?”

Danny waved it off, quickly finishing the bite of sausage. “Although, I mean, it was probably pre-made or something, but still.” 

“No, no, I’ll take the compliment,” Christopher teased, though he really had done nothing more than slice the sausage into a smaller size for her. 

She rolled her eyes, and moved on to the orange. He’d only managed to cut the wedge so small—it was still easily the size of her face, but she tore into it anyway. Juice dripped down her clothes, but she ignored it as she chewed.

He couldn’t suppress a small laugh, though he tried to hide it behind his hand as a cough. 

She glared at him. “What’s so funny?”

He gestured with a light wave of his hand to her whole body. “You’ve got a bit of…on your…”

“I was gonna change anyways.” She stuck out her tongue at him. “You’ll just have to do your guest’s laundry.” 

Is she really starting to boss me around? As if I’m the one that does laundry anyways. He didn’t correct her, though—he just found himself staring at her with a gentle amusement, caught off guard by her brazen nature as always. 

Danny continued on with her explanation, still utterly unbothered. “This tastes like…summer. Like the way sunshine feels on your skin, and how nice cold water feels when it’s really hot outside. It’s sweet, and a little tangy. But refreshing. It tastes…happy.” 

An unexpected sensation gripped his own tongue, the imagined citrus dancing across his taste buds almost as if he had taken a bite of the orange himself. Thanks to her, he could remember, for just a brief moment, how the fruit had tasted—for just a moment he became swept up in that simple joy she described, finding an odd significance and sentimentality had lent itself to the experience. It was just an orange she was describing—a piece of mundane fruit he’d probably never spared a second thought to all those years ago—but in this moment, he swore he almost felt…

…human.

He blinked a few times, having almost completely detached himself from the present moment. Danny was still eating, completely oblivious to his introspection as she munched on. He shook his head slightly as if to clear it, but instead felt a tiny surge of emotion well up in his chest. He couldn’t place its source, or even its nature. 

“...thank you, Danny. That was…very enlightening.” He rose to his feet to leave, bowing his head slightly towards her as he did. “I’ll leave you be for now.”

She gave him a quizzical look. “What, you have things to do?”

He turned away from her, not allowing her to see his face—which he was starting to lose control over keeping composed. “I…do have some errands I need to take care of. I’ll find you later.”

“Alright,” she replied, a little quieter than before.

He left the room and closed the door softly behind him, wandering down the halls aimlessly for a short while. He hadn’t a destination in mind, nor did he have errands to run.

All he could think of was the way she’d listened so intently to the story yesterday, and the way that she’d fallen asleep in his hands. The way she boldly defied him, even though she was dwarfed in size and class alike. The way she described her simple breakfast in a way that touched him, and somehow made him remember a time when he had been well and truly happy.

She spoke with me. She isn’t afraid of me—I don’t even think she hates me as much anymore.

A thought tugged at his mind, a tiny and pestering worry that began to impede on the light, happy feeling in his chest until it became corroded at the edges with anxiety.

I enjoy her company.

Sam had been right—he hadn’t been trying lately, not for the last few years at least. It was so, so much easier to limit his interactions with the people he kept, even as the crushing weight of loneliness invaded his soul. It was easiest not to grow attached, and to keep them afraid, or angry—because the light of trust in their eyes would always extinguish, and it would pierce his heart every time to remember the way they looked at him once he’d had them inside long enough to push the beast far enough back beneath the surface, when he let them out, just before he took their memories away. 

It was easiest to just ignore the people he kept here. To let them think of him as nothing more than a cruel monster. That was why he hadn’t been trying to be nice, even if being nice would surely be the only hope that one of them would fulfill the impossible conditions needed to break the curse. It was soul-crushing work, to do it over and over and over again, never able to consume the same person twice, always needing to find a new face to look at him and scream in terror.

Danny would be just another one of those faces. Within a week, he’d need to consume her.

I enjoy her company. 

I don’t want her to be afraid of me. 

He didn’t even think about the possibility of her being the one to break the curse—all he could think of was that of all the people he’d met, captured, and invited over the years, she was one of the first in a long time that he found himself, unfortunately and inexplicably, beginning to care for.

And how could he subject someone he cared for…to that? 

…oh no.

* * * * * * * * * *

Christopher may have started to care. But does Danny feel the same way? Is there any hope at all of breaking his curse? Next week is chapter 10, Chosen!

Thank you for reading!

#cursed cravings #itwom #itwom au #beauty and the beast au #vore writing #vore stories #gt stories #nonsexual vore #sfw vore #gt vore

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Hand Held 5.1

20ish years ago I drew Hand Held 5, and here is my current revised version.

Kristine was sneaking in the grass, doing her best to go unnoticed by any humans or wild animals. While the grass provided shelter, the grass also made it difficult to see. Suddenly, she took a tumble, tripping over a rock. Clumsily she fell through blades of grass, rolling to a stop in a stretch of dirt.

Dusting herself off, she quickly got up to hide in the grass again, at least, that’s what she planned to do. When getting up, her ankle seared in pain unable to take any weight. Recovering, and debating her next move, a large shadow blanketed over her and much of the ground around her. Oh no.

Her fall had caught the attention of a human man. Leaning back, she tried to see him and read his face, but the midday sun cast him in shadows. There was no way of knowing what he thought, good intentioned or not. Still trying to see him, the massive human shifted downwards coming towards her. His hands reaching out.

Oh my goodness!! Background, foreground, mid-tone shadows, new textures, i tried so many new things. I took my time with this one. I hope you enjoy G/t community. ❤️ much luv!

#oh my gosh! the details!!! #this is sooo good omg

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“toxic g/t is a sensitive topic and should be handled with care” as a kid i’d turn on the tv every night at 8pm and go to channel 175 to watch a giant cat try to kill a tiny mouse with guns and hammers and like, i turned out somewhat fine. let your OCs be toxic. give them guns and hammers. they want sticks of dynamite soooo bad

#give your blorbos an acme anvil

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Dudes I am actually hyped for Mermay this year. I've already gotten a few prompts done from @mossypidder 's list (not doing every one, I'm not crazy) and I am FROTHING at the mouth to share them. I love the prompts from that list!

Definitely revamped Danny's mer design this year. I'm really excited to see my progress in art from last year, LMAO.

#toast talks

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*boops you more*

#it's a crime they took this feature away lol #toast asks

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the ballad of the exercise ball

#I'm dying over his expressions here xD #chomp #regret

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This machine kills AI

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sometimes g/t headcanons are about gentleness, about humility, about the vulnerability it takes to place your entire life in someone else’s hands. and sometimes it’s about imagining how hard you could throw that fucker into the ocean if they were small

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ship dynamic: unstoppable bastard meets immovable bitch

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Tryna pull a fast one on me and upload new art all sneaky-like here? HA! Get reblogged, nerd.

Seriously, your coloring style looks so good with the way you draw! I'm living for it so much!

If you haven't checked out these stories yet, you will not be disappointed.

Master Post-It Note

Hey hey, Lucky here, how’s it going? If you come around these parts looking for stories, that’s what I do!

Wanna see if you can stomach a story, check it! ↓↓↓

What I’d do for a Livable Income || Read On A03 - “Just working” at a pizzeria can be tough. (New Chapter at least 2 times a week).

“Wild Escape” - “Playtime” with Outlaws and Yokai (demons/spirits). (New Chapter once every month).

What I’d Do As A Paranormal Investigator (Widfali AU, TBA) || Read On A03 - Solving a crime is “easy”. (New Chapter at least once a week).

“I Get Roped Into Being A Hero,” - “Accepting” a sidekick position. (On Hiatus!)

Are you interested in sampling possessive angst? ↓↓↓

Yandere Vore Master Post-It (Some serious themes inside).

Are you looking for some short stories that aren’t plot stricken, but still meaty enough for a fine meal? ↓↓↓

Short Story Snips (I’ll be tossin’ them all here).

Do you want something to bring out inspiration of your own, why don’t you try feasting upon these prompts. ↓↓↓

Prompt-It Notes (Get em’ while they’re hot!)

Want a “dessert” tailed to ya? ↓↓↓

Ko-Fi Commissions! (Want me to draw something for you?)

(Also my asks are always open, so go ahead and shoot me one!)

And overall, if my stuff isn’t your thing, I still wish you a wonderful day! :D And keep looking around the community there are plenty of awesome artist and writers here!

#widfali #luckyshotwrites #vore writing #vore stories #honestly just BANGER stories regardless

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Cursed Cravings, Chapter 8: Judging by the Cover

In which Danny gets a look at Christopher's library. Contains: 1.6k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

“I’ve saved the best for last.” 

After almost an entire day of being dragged around the mansion, with a merciful break to eat another well-prepared meal from Sam, the cart rolled to a stop in front of a set of grand double doors. 

Danny gave the doors a skeptical raise of her eyebrow. They were big, sure, but they didn’t look much different than the rest of the mansion, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand to listen to stories about how these rich people had gotten their fancy things from other rich people in what seemed to be a never-ending cycle of showing off to each other about it, even if Sam had made some of the stories a little more entertaining. 

“This is the library. It’s HUGE, and I don’t just mean that because all the books are twice your size. There’s hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. Penn family, big book people.” 

Danny’s eyes widened. Books? Those were something of a rarity to her—she was certain there was someone who sold books in town, but she had always been too busy working with the animals, or in the garden, or in the kitchen to bother with a hobby like that. 

“Uh…yeah, I haven’t exactly…gotten the chance to, uh, read a lot of books.” 

She could almost feel the cart vibrate with excitement. “Then you are gonna get the socks knocked off of you when you see this. Anything you wanna read about, I guarantee he’s got it.” 

“Sam, wait-” 

Danny’s protests were cut short as the doors to the library opened and the cart zipped inside. 

It was just as Sam had said—the place was enormous, with rows and rows of books as tall as trees lined up from the floor to the ceiling. Her head craned backwards as she followed the sight up and up, any remark she’d previously had ready long since swallowed by her amazement. “W…woah. Where the hell do you even start?” 

The cart eagerly rolled on forward. “Well, you could certainly start with the factual stuff, y’know, history, encyclopedias, stuff like that. That’s all this section here,” they said, not bothering to slow down as they passed the section in question. “But that’s boring. My favorite’s over here.” 

They whizzed past a few more rows of books, and then Sam rolled to a stop, proudly gesturing towards the shelf they stopped in front of with a dainty flourish of the cart’s metal handle. “See? Fiction!” 

Danny laughed. “...fiction?” 

“Yeah, like…made-up stories. It’s got everything. Here.” A sturdy book was plucked off the shelf and floated through the air next to the cart, motioning for Danny to step onto it. Not looking at the ground below it, she cautiously stepped over the edge of the cart and placed her weight on the book’s cover, which had an elaborate, gilded design adorning it. It slowly lowered itself to the ground with Danny on it, allowing her to step off and onto the tile floor. 

Another book flew off the shelf and landed next to her—the pages flipped quickly before landing on one of the inside illustrations, which seemed to depict some sort of wooden puppet at sea, sailing away from an enormous, monstrous whale. She barely had time to process it before another book set itself down on her other side, this one bearing a cover of a handsome knight fighting a fire-breathing dragon. More and more books began to pile up in rapid succession, until Danny had become trapped within an ever-increasing mountain of literature. 

“Hey! Sam! Slow down, wait.” She took a deep breath, and then muttered, quietly, “listen, I…I can’t read.” 

The erratic book-flinging halted to a stop, one book in midair sheepishly putting itself back into place on the shelf. “Oh.” 

“Did you just say you can’t read?” 

The giant footsteps had escaped her notice until they were too close to evade. She scowled. “Sam!” she whispered harshly, suddenly getting the feeling that the spirit had abandoned her. That little punk. Did they do this on purpose?

She glared upwards and saw Christopher looking down at her from over the stack of books that surrounded her. “None of your fucking business, bastard. For the record, I’ve had to work twice as hard as you’ll ever work just to keep me and Nathan fed. Reading wasn’t exactly high on the priority list.” 

Christopher tilted his head, regarding her with what appeared to be a genuinely curious expression. “I’ve never met someone who didn’t know how to read before.” 

A book smacked him in the back of the head.

“Ow!” He rubbed his head and looked around futilely for Sam, before sighing with a single, drawn-out breath. He glanced down toward the books near Danny again and picked one off the top of the pile, turning it back and forth as he considered the cover.

From what little she could see, it appeared to be quite pretty, with delicate gold details on the front and a tower of some kind, with the illustration of a long braid of golden hair running along its spine. 

“This is a good one,” Christopher mused. “I could…” 

He looked away for a moment, tossing something in his head with a conflicted expression before he looked back to Danny. “...read it to you, if you’d like?” 

Danny raised a single eyebrow. She had a snarky retort all lined up, but she found herself pausing as she looked at the book in the giant’s hands. She’d never had the opportunity to read before, but she did like stories. Nathan used to tell her some that he’d heard from his family. Her heart ached at the memory, and she took a deep breath of her own as she crossed her arms. “What’s it about,” she mumbled, refusing to look at Christopher.

“It’s called Rapunzel.” He idly flipped through the pages. “It’s about a princess with long, golden hair trapped in a tower by a witch, and rescued by her true love. It’s a classic.” 

“Sounds boring,” she grumbled.

“There’s some rather graphic violence too, if that makes it more intriguing for you.” 

She rolled her eyes, trying to look away from the giant and failing as she looked back toward the book. 

Christopher bent down, rolling his eyes back at her as he extended a hand towards her, like he expected her to climb onto it. “You ought to give it a chance. Come on, I’ll just read the first chapter and you can see if you’re interested after that.” 

Danny glared at him. Glared at his hand. And then glared at him again. She was more interested in hearing the story than she was letting on, but to have it be read to her by him? 

She felt a slight chill as a tiny breeze ruffled her clothes. It felt like Sam was trying to coax her into this too. I feel like I’m being played somehow.

She took a bold, paradoxically defiant step onto Christopher’s palm. “Fine. ONE chapter. And then you have to leave me alone for the rest of the day.” 

The giant laughed softly as he carried her to a nearby table. “Whatever you’d like, Danny.” 

* * * * * * * * * * 

A Little More Than One Chapter Later

Once Christopher reached the end of the story, he realized that Danny, who had taken a seat on the table between him and the book, had begun to make soft snoring noises as her head bent slightly forward. 

And she was the one who insisted we keep going. She didn’t even hear how it ended. He chuckled, poking her lightly in the side. “Hey. Doll. You’re drooling on the pages.” 

“Hwah-huh…?” She made a tired noise as she stirred awake, blinking a few times as she looked slowly between the book and him. Her eyes suddenly widened as she startled herself awake, a look between embarrassment and indignation clear across her face. “I WAS NOT. I’m awake!” 

“Oh? So you heard what happened to the blind prince?”

Her face went blank. “...since when was he blind?” 

“You were asleep for longer than I thought, doll.” He grinned. He could see past her prideful posturing to know that she had enjoyed the story, even if she hadn’t been able to remain conscious for the whole thing. It is a little late.

She huffed. “Well, maybe you could reread some of the end, so I can…” she yawned, “figure out how it ended—” 

“Oh, no.” He closed the book shut and picked her up, placing her on his palm—she only feebly swiped at him in protest this time. “I think that’s enough for tonight. It’s almost midnight.” 

“It’s almost WHAT?!” Danny looked to the windows, which showed that the outside world had long since succumbed to the pitch black of night. “Jesus Christ,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to your room.” 

He’d already made it down the hall, walking as slowly and carefully as he could while he cradled Danny in his palms, trying not to jostle her. To his surprise, about halfway there she began to curl up and close her eyes, giving up entirely on sending any sort of malevolence his way, at least for now.

…what?

No one had ever been comfortable enough to sleep in his hands like this before, not even the ones who thought they could trust him. Seeing her like this, at ease and relaxed, was such a strange contrast from how she normally acted around him, with her guard up and a steely look of irritation in her eyes. 

His heart fluttered a little as he observed her, but he swallowed down the feeling of hope that surged in his chest. As lovely and enticing as the feeling was, he knew it was a rose with thorns beneath it. He knew what happened when he got too attached to the humans he was supposed to eat. 

They all screamed, in the end. 

* * * * * * * * * * Next chapter ->

Is it time for more Danny and Christopher bonding? I think it's time for more Danny and Christopher bonding. Or, well, whatever you want to call it. Either way, tune in next week for chapter 9: A Taste So Bittersweet!

Thank you for reading! We're getting really close to one of my favorite chapters so far. Things are going to start picking up soon! I promise!

#cursed cravings #itwom #itwom au #beauty and the beast au #vore writing #vore stories #gt stories #nonsexual vore #sfw vore #gt vore

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My hug a tiny day contribution is done!! A day late bc it took longer than expected

anyway i wanted to do a lil animatic thing to one of my favourite songs, the lyrics are just perfect yknow

(Song is Fingertips by Tom Gregory go give it a listen)

#i love this SO much #I'd like to thank you for introducing me to this song #actually a g/t banger

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FINISHED MY LIST OF PROMPTS, GUYS

If anyone uses these, please feel free to ping @mossypidder, I’d love to see how people interpret them. I guess you could also just use a tag. #piddermermay I guess? Idk. I’ve never done anything like this before.

#oh? these look so cool? #i don't know if I will do much but I'd like to think my art skillz have improved since last may #i might revive merstopher or merdanny xD

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Wicks in a skirt? Absolutely. (This picture is taken seconds before your imminent death)

Wicks belongs to @luckyshotwrites from their story What I'd do for a Livable Income! Unfortunately the above scene is NOT canon...yet.

#widfali #widfali fanart #toast arts #wicks #vore stories #he is actually rocking the look ngl

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Finally, the polycule is complete! Lance, from @vorefluff's story BLOOD (Breathe Life, Outrunning Our Doom)!

You should check the story out if you have not already! I look forward to more chapters.

#toast arts #breathe life #vore stories #i have been having so much fun drawing these! #your characters all have such cool designs and color schemes

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Ch. 102 // How Do You Feel? // Day 78

Contents (Warnings): Sum up what's left (Angst, character and monster info as always). Read full chapter on A03

Wordcount: 2,000+

Song I correlate to this Chapter: definitely not Mariah Carey's all I want for Christmas is you.

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(Dec. 20th, Tuesday)

Lynette

It had been nearly two weeks since the incident.

After we were collected, given immediate care, exchanged our testimonies, and debriefed, we were allowed to go home. 

Most of it was mashed together in my mind. I figured it was due to how fast everything happened. Working at the pizzeria is a testimony to that statement. 

I knew there were mass casualties—most of the people in the basement were recovered, and Andras, along with Victoria, were in custody, most likely going to be put to death.

I didn't know the extent of the C.P.P.A.'s legal system and wanted to avoid asking Wicks. Despite claiming he was okay, I knew he wasn't. 

Lately, he was antsy. He'd check on me every hour, and each time he did, he'd offer me sweets—far more than usual. His excuse was that he had to dispose of the ever-increasing keep-away-from-Lentils stash.

And before I left today, he made me promise three things. 

"One, you won't go out with anyone, monster or not, unless Charletta, Mom, Dad, or I go with you."

It felt fair for now. I hadn't made any human friends. 

"Two, IF anyone bothers you after you tell them to leave or you feel uneasy about them in any way. Use your knife."

I received it after finishing my training last week. I currently had it strapped to my belt, concealed behind my jacket at my back. 

I was afraid to admit that even thinking about seriously stabbing someone scared me. 

It'll get more manageable if I keep training with Garter. I assured myself.

"Three, if you get in a coworker-related trouble again at any point, you're quitting."

It was the only compromise I'd give him. It wasn't their fault. Neither Claudia nor Drake expected that to happen. I convinced him to agree, but I wasn't sure if I'd go back or not.

"Here's your pretzel," my sister said. She unconsciously hummed the current Christmas song on the speakers: ' All I want for Christmas is no copyright infringements.' 

We were at the mall together, getting last-minute Christmas gifts for the family. All we had to do was wait for Wenna to arrive. 

I still think dragging me along with them is a bad idea. I thought.

After what happened, Drake wasn't permitted to be around me for the next month. Because of the extreme stress of being constantly deprived of energy and drinking my blood back to back to back, he got addicted. 

From what I understood, if a vampire was under pressure and continued to drink from the same person, their body deemed no other "resources" available, so it'd become possessive and protective over that "resource." That'd also mean they'd exclusively crave that being's blood. 

So, Drake would be drinking animal blood for the next month to 'reset his palette.' This apparently happened to him with Elise, Viola's partner as well.  

Wenna assured me she'd stay at Viola's house after she left the mall, so Drake wouldn't have exposure to my scent either. 

It made giving him a birthday gift a little more complicated. I said in my head as I took a bite of the pretzel while we walked. Charletta happily tore into hers beside me.

We had yet to walk into any festively decorated storefronts, but seeing them made my smile come alive. Not that I hadn't been to the mall in a while—Wicks and I'd come here at least once a month since the rock climbing place we visited every week was next door.

The adorning wreaths and garlands in cahoots with the cinnamon and pine scents delighted me. I loved buying gifts for people, and this was the holiday with the biggest and best excuse to spend my money on it. I hadn't had a reason to use much of the money I'd made at the pizzeria. 

This realization brought me back to what I should do. If I stayed, I planned on going back after Christmas. 

After I finished my pretzel, I threw away the napkin, and Charletta tugged my arm. 

"Hey, we should sit at those chairs you like." She slipped her phone back into her pocket. 

Before she continued to drag me, we waited for the excited kids to run by to see Santa at the huge, well decorated, Christmas tree.

"I remember when you and Madre had to put up with me pulling Wicks to Santa." I chuckled as I plopped onto the chair, feeling the motionless massagers underneath me awaiting my money. I also noted the other person using one behind mine. 

Charletta fell back on the one next to me and laughed, too: "That first time he was put on his lap. He was bawling and begging for Mom to get him." 

I whimpered, "I still feel so bad. I thought you guys knew who Santa was!" I put a dollar into her chair and mine. 

"We had a monster similar to Krampus back on Yexodele, but no Santa." She said with a shake of her head. 

A monster similar to KRAMPUS? I would have asked further, if the other part of what she said didn't get my attention too. "On Yexodele?"

"We lived there before we came here." Charletta closed her eyes and relaxed back. "We should get a massage at one of the shops with Wenna." 

"Then why did you..." It had been so long since it was mentioned to me, but I remembered what Drake said. 

"I never saw it, though, Yexodele. I was born on Earth." [...] "There was a big war that broke out between the strongest nations, and now nearly all of it is uninhabitable."

"Oh, right." I sheepishly replied.

Despite Charletta's smile, her face contained freckles of concern. She asked, "have you been told about it?"

"Yeah, Drake told me some things about the war."

"It was crazy. I was thirteen when we came here." She bustled with laughter and waved her hand around, seemingly to avoid the topic. "You know how hard it was not to use any of my tricks in front of people and to be around people that looked like me."  

I didn't press her. "I think it's similar to how I feel knowing about everything now." It was disorienting to see some people at the mall, knowing one could be a giant monster living here peacefully or, like Andras, not so much.

I followed her lead and shut my eyes, too. Beneath my eyelids, the images of what has happened so far, the good and the bad, fluttered about. It's been, what, a little over four months? 

"Speaking of things you can't always see," Charletta nudged my arm with her elbow. "What's on your mind?" 

I flinched as the massage chair got to my neck. I pulled away from it for a moment and sighed.

"What should I do?"

"About?"

"You know…" How could I explain it?

Charletta turned her attention to mean, leaning up in her chair. "What do you feel you should do?"

I shrugged and played with one of my curls. "I don't know. Claudia's nice, and Zilla's not bad. As long as she's not using me in some hair-brain scheme, she's fine. Lev is Lev, Drake... I don't blame him for what happened." It was all Andras. He abused us both and manipulated Drake. I'd attempt to treat him the same; even with the incident at the festival, he was the only one who acted friendly and genuine to me. 

"And Alexander," my thoughts sank. There had been so many things dwelling under the surface of my mind. Yet Alexander's face stuck out the most. I had never seen him like that. He was always annoyed, unbothered, or hungry, never terrified. 

"I-I never had someone look at me like that before." I kept vividly hearing his raspy, hard breathing and seeing his body shake and stammer in retreat. "He looked afraid of me when he's the scary opposing one-" I don't understand how Andras could derive satisfaction from it. It made me feel sick and overwhelmed with the need to chase him. I wanted to know why he ran away from me and refused to accept what I said.

"From what Wicks told me, things went down, and Alexander had other complicated feelings at the time," Charletta said calmly.

I didn't know Wicks talked to you about it. "That's why I was trying to get it through to him. He went back to help Wicks!"

"Knowing you, of course, you did," Charletta said as she paid the chairs for us this time when they ran out. "You shouldn't fret too much about that big softie. He'll be fine."

I did a double take and choked on my spit. I coughed, "wha-" I continued the fit for a little longer. "He's not a softie!"

Charletta pursed her lips together to hold back her giggles, then popped them when she got a handle over herself, "I did my own investigation during Thanksgiving because Wicks wouldn't stop complaining about him."

"Huh?" That's right. She sparred with Alexander during the party. "that's why you fought him?""

She tilted her head, "duh." She rested her hands behind her head momentarily before she realized the robotic massage went up to it. "I wanted to know if he was as stupid and rude as Wicks described. " 

He's blunt and abrasive. I didn't know whether I'd call him dumb or not. Just not as receptive?

"I think he's pretty simple," she scoffed. "He's definitely quick with magic and a lot more trusting than I imagined." Charletta rested her head back, "even after I threatened him." 

"Threatened?"

She brushed her wavy brown locks from her face. "What? You think I'm not a little peeved that he might not treat my little sister respectfully?" She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. "It worked out well."

"I guess." 

"Do you think otherwise"

"I wouldn't fight someone for that reason," I muttered quietly. 

Charletta flicked her hand from mine and pushed my chin up, "And there's your answer."

I didn't move from the position she put me in, "not to fight people?" I could have told you that.

Charletta tipped her finger off my chin. "You decide what you do." She put her hands flat over her chest. "I can say what I think is best, same as I'm sure everyone else has or can for you, but we aren't you."

She pointed at me. "You're going through everything, Lyn. You know what you can handle and what you can take. And if you don't know yet, you'll learn." 

She's right. I was afraid to make this decision alone—why did I keep fighting with Wicks then? I don't want to give up, do I? 

"It's your decision, not theirs," she said, teasingly poking me. "I know it can be tough, especially with Mom and Wicks always coddling you."

My smile wavered. I let my head fall, staring at my knees, going over the side grooves in my jeans with my fingers, "What if I fail again?"

"You don't fail if you try. You fail when you give up and stop trying entirely. If you leave or stay now and leave later, that doesn't mean utter defeat. You tried, and you can work elsewhere if it doesn't work out there." She leaned closer; our chair timers were up. "Like, does it make you a failure at rock climbing if you can't do a wall?"

I shook my head. "No. I'd do a different one until I get good enough to do the one I couldn't." 

"Exactly, or you might never go back to that wall again. It might not be your style, fit your groove, or it'll change. So, you aren't a failure unless you stop entirely and deem yourself one."

I puckered and relaxed my lips, still brushing the seams of my pants, while in thought. I do plan on working more after the year. I want to get better at art so I can make silly animations. 

My hands rested on my thighs. And if I do quit, I will still do what I can to make that dream a reality. I'll work anywhere else and keep saving.

I looked up at her. "Thank you."

"We're always here for you, Lyn. We'll support you no matter what," she popped up from her chair and offered me an arm up, too. "just don't drive us too crazy, okay? Unless you want Madre and Wicks to seal you away like a Rapunzel forever."

Wicks is already doing that, I thought as I took her offer. "I'd also like to make another thing clear." She brought me close and sharpened her gaze. "When you ask yourself what you want, don't think of the money as a way to pay us back."

"But,"

"We're here for each other. If things didn't work out between Ulysses and me, you all would be there, showering me with everything under the sun. It's no different from us to you, no matter what your brain tells you. Got it?"

"O-okay"

"Good." Charletta glanced at the chairs back to back with ours. "Are you going to hide there all day or give us hugs?"

"Sorry!" Wenna popped up from the chair. 

My cheeks were red with embarrassment. People passed us during this conversation, sure, though none were listening. Knowing Wenna was there the whole time, my cheeks were hot. 

"I didn't want to ruin your sisterly moment." Wenna came around the chairs to us. 

"You're allowed to join them being our sister and all too."

Wenna squealed and grabbed me first in the hug, then Charletta. "Yeah, I am!" Because of Wenna's height to me, we were nearly cheek-to-cheek.

I glanced up at Charletta as she squeezed us back. 

My mind was still wrecked, trembling when I thought of what had happened so far, but for some reason, whether it be my stupid determination or the feeling of wanting to prove myself, I wasn't keen on making a decision until after the holidays.

…

Hey, you, thank you so much for reading. I'm glad I put out a story that people can enjoy! I hope you continue to enjoy it as WE have a LOT more to go! YOU BETTER KEEP PROSPERING! (Nonnegotiable, as always~).

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What I’d do for a Livable Income Part 2 (Synopsis/Chapter - List)

#it was nice to get an actual convo with lynette and charletta! #i wonder how long wicks's rules are gonna be followed for #who's on pizzeria guarding duty? xD #i don't think she's gonna quit personally #i guess we will see #widfali #vore writing #vore stories