#grams of protein or something like that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvlyhyunjin · 13 days

Text

Fallen Star┃Jake Sim

nine -the devil and angel are entangled. warnings: smut and a bit of angst.

Masterlist ✶ prev ✶ next

You’re having a bad day. It did not necessarily start that way. In fact, your morning started out as one of the best in quite a while, from waking up ten minutes earlier than your alarm to the pleasant quietness that had swirled around in your apartment settling that same pleasant emotion to swim through every nook and cranny of your being.

And so, you find yourself going on a coffee run before heading to the company, a charming smile adorns your face that gets you a free blueberry muffin. It all falls perfectly into the pleasurable warm buzz in your chest. like pieces of a puzzle flumping into place. Crumbs of joy that had managed to find its way into you, separating the collective graying clouds of heartbreak you’ve been lying on for a couple of days.

But oh, you were so wrong. You should have known these clouds are gonna be replaced with a burning fire instead. One that you became too familiar with. It sets your soul ablaze every time you come face to face with the devil’s facet, clad in designer brands and doused in a seemingly uncanny aptitude for getting on your nerves.

Jake Sim.

“What the fuck is this?” he almost spits, a grimace clinging to his handsome features and a glare saturated with the same fire that’s burning inside of you.

“Coffee?” you reply, drily. Your gaze flickers between his eyes and the cup of coffee you handed to him ten seconds ago.

“It tastes like absolute shit. What kind of milk is this?” your hand twitches against your chest, you fight against an otherworldly urge to just smack him across the head and maybe pull on his perfectly styled hair that somehow manages to add grams of beauty to his already perfectly sculpted face –

Okay. Taking a deep breath in, you manage to trap in your wild thoughts for a mere second as you clear your throat.

“Califia. Isn’t that what you like?”

“This is not Califia.” he declares. His head swivels towards you with a deepening glare that somehow has your insides tying into knots. His eyes shouldn’t affect you this much but the dusted colors of dark brown and a light black on his lids only add sharpness to them. It has you pathetically kneeling into desire.

From behind him Sunoo sighs, abandoning his work on jake’s face and his brushes to walk away from the growing heated argument he knows is bound to happen. He has been a witness to it close to a hundred times by now.

“Call me when you’re done.” He calls to the both of you with a yawn. It falls on deafening ears as you attempt, fragilely so to glare back at Jake.

“it’s what I asked them for I don’t know what to tell you Jake.” Even his name leaves a bitter taste on your tongue, melting into something darker that you ignore.

“Well clearly someone is lying here.”

“it’s not like I can make the coffee myself.”

“Then don’t bring me something I didn’t ask for.”

“I’m just trying to be nice.”

“that’s not working very well for you, isn’t it bunny?” his tight brows and tongue poking his cheek shouldn’t also affect you, but it does. Perhaps that’s why it annoyed you, the fact that he was just so attractive yet so annoying. Pulling you apart with confusion. It all bleeds into frustration that bubbles up in your blood, so you huff. Refusing to accept defeat.

“I’ll get you a different one.”

You try to reach for his cup that he has deemed worthless, placed it on top of the table across from him. His hand circles your wrist before you do. His fingers are cold against your pulse, sending shivers down your spine and a pitiful gasp bubble at the back of your throat. Coming up with immense force and almost spills your deviant cravings right at jake’s face. You bite on your lower lip just in time to kill your embarrassment.

“Just get me a protein bar instead. I’m not in the mood for coffee anymore.” The lack of emotions in his tone is antithetical to the masses dancing in his eyes. growing darker in color, splashed with undeniable desire. Making itself so evident when he glances down at your bitten lips.

You swallow around nothing. Your eyes prancing between his as if it’s ever possible for fire to be added upon more fire. Like it could consume you whole and turn you into ashes that simply lays at the feet of the nation’s sweetheart. Another countless victim to the glistening of him. You don’t know who you should start throwing the blanket of blame on first. Your ex-boyfriend who cheated on you and left you to deal with despair on your own? Or perhaps it was the perpetrator who started this little game of mouse and cat? Translating itself into endless staring contests between the two of you and you always end up losing somehow.

It only got somehow rapidly worse over the week. Jake will peek at you in the most random of times. Between the fluttering of his lashes as he’s getting his face done for whatever upcoming programme or in the between the crowds of nameless people and amid the loads of work, you’re being crushed under. His eyes would find you one way or another. A thin line on the verge of breaking stays between you two. It’s in the lingering of his stare when you’re stuck in the van in the middle of unmoving traffic. He rests his chin in the heart of his palm and a wandering curiosity laces his gaze with a dazzling intensity. They’re piercings and more than anything clear.

Capturing you in place with the overwhelming knowledge that he knows exactly what he wants. It almost has you melting against the leather of the car seats. Like a flower loitering amongst many, almost blending in with everything else and hoping to be lucky enough to get picked. It’s pathetic. You grow hateful at it so quickly it should be alarming. It meshes into you taking it as a challenge, daring yourself not to be the first to be weakened and look away.

A smirk disperses across Jake’s lips each time with no fail and you stumble on your cold façade, swaying and drenched in a feeble coated loneliness. Yet with a coarse heart you take and take until you snapped.

It happened two days ago.

After a long day of work you find yourself in the all-too familiar elevator of the company. An Aching body and a hazy mind. Jake has his head thrown back against the wall behind him, his Prada sunglasses covering his eyes while Jay is next to him scrolling through his phone mindlessly. You bask in this rare tranquility for a few seconds before it’s interrupted by a huge group of staff members. Invading the cramped space. With a sigh and deflating shoulders, you move to make space. Squishing yourself into a corner as you hug yourself in futile attempts to make yourself appear smaller than you already are.

You’re surprised when another smaller group joins in as well leaving little to no room to breathe. Jake is somehow pushed right next to you and into your space. His scent breaks its way through to you before you feel him against your back, his chest pressed against you, and he uses his palm to rest on the wall right next to your head that is refusing to face him. Instead thanking God and the heavens above at the lack of mirrors in this specific elevator.

The last thing you want right now is catch your own reflection or even worse – Jake’s reflection.

The sudden proximity has your heart picking speed as you haven’t been this close to Jake before, his expensive perfume almost chokes you when someone pushes him again. Causing him to press you further against the wall. You’re starting to feel suffocated. It only ever becomes worse when you grow hyperaware of his chest raising and falling against your back, his breath fans against your exposed neck and you shiver.

“You good, bunny?” Jake murmurs into the back of your head, his other arm coming up to splay his hand flat against the wall, successfully caging you in. his voice is low yet soft. Softer than any other time he had spoken to you before, tenderly causing tingles to linger at the top of your spine.

Jake had never spoken to you gently before if he’s not blunt and cold. He is teasing you with harmless insults and perhaps that’s why his tone has specifically broke you that day. It blazed a trail down your being, nestling in the middle of your stomach and travelling down right to your core.

When was the last time someone had spoken to you this softly?

You can’t come up with a good enough answer. Not to the question swimming around in your fizzy mind or the one Jake threw at you. you’re flickering, wobbling on this thin line between you and your eyes are following the trail of veins on his hands. They look so strong that your brain melts and turns into mush, the only thought arising on top of everything is that he could fuck you right now and you would definitely let him.

Maybe that’s why when your lips separate a phantom of a whimper escapes you, ringing in Jake’s ears when you start squirming, pushing your lower half back against him in the process. You aren’t sure if you’re trying to get away or closer to him.

“What are you doing?” He groans, pushing further into you to stop your constant movement. The sound sends another unwanted shudder through your body.

“I can’t breathe.” You hang your head, disgrace marring your cheeks in red at the way you catch yourself in a lie. The way your eyes have glazed over, and there’s a haze turning your mind into a jumbled mess. forcing you into the lust you have been denying the existence of for days now.

You can’t breathe.

And it’s not because of this cage you found yourself trapped in, it’s because of him.

“we’re almost there.” His voice is almost like a distance dangled comfort, offered by some pitying god that you refuse to take despite your sinful thoughts and so you grow quiet, equally terrified at acknowledging the fact you want him.

You feel like a stumbling mess all the way home, with wobbly legs and a quivering heart that somehow always manages to make itself your worst enemy. You don’t allow yourself the pleasure to scour the thoughts swirling in your mind for answers. Instead, you mellow out into the tingling electricity that had lingered on your back. As if his scent seared itself onto you, you end up touching yourself in the middle of your bed. myriad of visions invades your mind. They’re mostly of Jake’s hands and intensive stare. A glorious fire that takes you so high up and only when you’re down do you realize;

Oh, you’re so fucked.

“yn,” jake’s annoyed voice pulls you right back into the current situation you’re in. he arches a brow at you and you blink, breaking yourself out of a daze.

Daydreaming about your boss who happens to be in front of you right now is a different kind of fucked. One that you didn’t have in your bingo card for this year.

“Right. Protein bar I’m on it.” You free your wrist from his grip easily, he falls back into his seat with suspicion mixed with irritation that has him biting on his lower lip. A habit that you grew to hate so quickly. It has you straightening your back and moving away in a stiff manner. As if you’re an alien that just learned how to walk on human ground.

“You okay?” Jay asks you when you manage to faceplant right into his chest as soon as you’re out of the room, a breath of a chuckle escapes him at your expression.

You only give him an equally stiff thumbs up, a blush so deeply red spreads across your cheeks like an exposure to all the corrupted fantasies that found your brain and made it their home. It’s so ridiculous you don’t even welcome them so why are they taking over you as if you are a dried up branch flourishing back to life with none other than your desire for Jake Sim out of all people.

You will not allow it.

You catch yourself in another lie when afternoon rolls around. Passing by you with a blur drenched in misfortunate mishaps. It all begins with an inexplainable discussion you end up in with one of the staff members, you don’t recognize her so you think she must be new. She saw you next to Jake earlier that morning and apparently thought it was funny to joke about you and him fucking and perhaps it hit way too close to him. Perhaps because it is something you’ve been thinking about for nights upon nights but it had angered you so much. To the point where you decide to give her a piece of your mind when you run into her in the bathroom.

Despite the smell of actual shit surrounding you, your anger doesn’t subside. In fact, it only grows bigger when the girl rolls her eyes at you and walks away in the middle of you talking. You screamed, hitting your hand against the wall.

And that’s how you ended up with a broken nail. A bandage that has a fucking bunny on it of all animals wrapped around your pinky and a scowl not nearly as cute plastered on your face. You are startled when the door of the dressing room opens, your stare flits across Jake’s figure that dawdles past you followed by Sunghoon. You sink further into the couch you’re sitting on. Annoyance pulling at you when your silence is interrupted.

“Oh, hey yn.” Sunghoon greets, notices your figure that is being drowned by a graying disappointment. Almost as deep as the lines forming between your brows.

“Hey,” you return drily.

Your eyes linger on Jake, and he catches them from across the room. They cut into you deeply, it has you splitting open, breaking like shattered glass and your only wish as you go down is to cut him back.

The longer your staring stretches the more you feel your blood started to bubble with something akin to anger. Running through your veins and becoming one with every other negative emotion that has nestled in you throughout the day. It makes up all of you, turning you into a hungry void that wants to swallow everything in sight. It only grows when you feel like you’re the only one who’s getting burned by this fire growing vastly fast between you two.

Jake’s façade never breaks, doused with indifference and feigned coldness. It’s in the way his pruriency for you is ferocious. Taking up every sense of his being, he finds it in the notes of your scent, vanilla, and cinnamon like you’ve stumbled out of a bakery. Sugary sweet and he’s never been a fan of dessert, yet he grows a sweet tooth just for the taste of you.

It’s in the way you’re infuriatingly confident. Carrying yourself with a loudness he’s sure he despises yet you manage to walk away with pockets full of his attention. The shape of your body capturing growing ounces of his interest day by day. Perhaps he’s just sexually frustrated, he hasn’t fucked anyone since Chaewon. And so, when he glances one too many times at your legs and when he’s staring at your breasts too long to be deemed discreet. He lets himself because he’s just taken by his sweeping frustration.

Because truth is he finds you insufferable, overly stubborn with a spark of determination in your gaze, yet his want is uninhibited, crawling to you with licks of temptation and he pretends to be stronger than any of it. That the way you laugh so loudly is enough exasperation for his lust to abate. He pretends that you being so pretty doesn’t matter as much, that the innocence clinging to the edges of your smile like you haven’t been tainted by the evil of the world is only a rarity he finds in you.

It pulls him right into you and yet away from all his logical thinking. He finds himself being thrown back and forth in the overwhelmingly profound walls of his brain.

He’s never met someone who irritates him as much as you do so how is it that he craves you this bad?

Jake’s hiding is deep-rooted and so you remain unaware of it all.

“yn can you hand me Jake’s shirt? It’s on the rack behind you.” Sunghoon speaks, words cutting into the pregnant silence that had spread around the room. It hangs heavy that you don’t ever hear him.

Your mind stolen with the wandering of your eyes, dipping to Jake’s hand clad in rings. They’re nothing sort of enticing and yet you find yourself transfixed, unable to process anything that’s going around you and unable to look away from him.

It’s tremendously inequitable how he looks like he ambled out of a painting carefully coming to life by a starstruck lover. It’s aggravating how he’s a sculptor’s approximation of a person. You’re sure he’s been sipping on angels’ tears in his past life because there’s no way for him to be real otherwise and even when the angel is walking towards you with so much force in his steps, his wings dripping with glittering gold covers the floor and a couple of broken hearts cling to his lashes, you hold your breath. It’s in the faint scars adoring the palm of his hands.

It’s so absurd how could it be possible for something so tarnished to hold onto so much beauty? How is he so captivatingly attractive?

When Jake leans over you, his body mere centimeters and your face is almost buried in his chest. Your heart pulses against your ribs, eyes widening in surprise.

“Focus bunny,” he says with a stern look in his eyes, pulling back and the shirt Sunghoon had asked for in his arms.

You’re unable to come up with something to say. Your mind a blank when Jake takes his shirt off. His skin comes to view like whiplash to your face and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle.

It has your cheeks heating up, you fumble with the end of your rope.

One slip, all it took was one slip and you’ve fallen.

“Can you leave us alone?” Jake’s voice breaks into your clouds of thoughts and you swallow. Standing up and with too much of shakiness in your legs, you head for the door.

“Not you bunny. Sunghoon leave.” The latter looks between you two, taking note of the tension that seems to follow you two. It’s fatuous yet Sunghoon complies.

“What’s with you?” He stands before you, arching a brow at you and you linger by the door. Toying with the hem of your skirt and avoiding his gaze. The same one that is dancing across your figure appetitively.

“What?” You don’t mean to snap at him, but you do and his face hardens enough to chip enamel.

“Don’t start giving me attitude now.”

You sigh, a breath of exhaustion as you try to regain some pieces of sanity that the lines on his abdomen stole. Your eyes lolling everywhere but him.

“Sorry I’m just having a bad day.”

“you’ve been having a bad day for the last two weeks?” he asks sarcastically, followed by a scoff that tugs at your anger so easily. Yet you keep quiet.

“Get your shit together yn. you’re only making this harder for everyone else.” He adds bitterly, scrutinizing your futile attempts at avoiding his eyes. maybe because you know he’s right that anger finally sinks its teeth in you, and you don’t resist it. Locking eyes with him with a newfound raising flame.

“It’s not like you’re making it any fucking easier for me.”

“Don’t cuss at me.”

“I’m not cussing at you.”

He pauses, his gaze flickers for a mere moment that it’s enough to have you slipping yet again. As if you have been standing on slippery glass all along, barely hanging on by his avoidance and a simple darkening of a shade is enough to weaken you. eluding the depths of your desire to the surface. The wall of tension builds alarmingly fast, it’s in the way Jake’s eyes follow your lips.

“My job isn’t to make anything easier for you. so, if you feel like it’s too much you can leave.”

“I’m not leaving.” Your voice wavers slightly, mimicking the buckling of your knees.

“Then take it.” You wither away in silent indignation, so intense it feels seared on you and it only grows, peeking over the now mountain of tension. So leaden, it only intensifies when Jake’s takes slow steps towards you. A playful glint has taken its claim in his eyes, like he had won a contest you didn’t agree to be a part of. When he’s close enough he brings attention to your lips with his index finger.

“And take care of this mouth too yeah?” like splashes of wine your cheeks grow red in color and Jake’s lips tilt upwards in a troublesome smirk “behave bunny.” His words are meaningless, a passing empty thought he throws right at your face and when you sputter for a response. Swaying with shaking hands to gather your discomposure that he abandons as he walks past you.

It’s a blunder, one that will have you mourning your dignity right after and yet like a fool who stumbled upon a dazzling cup filled with sparkling poison you drink up. The devil and angel are entangled with sin when the words tumble out your lips;

“You take care of it then,” you turn to look at him and he looks back with the same vigor spilling from his eyes, like a river running down the route of lust.

“If you hate it this much then take care of it.”

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides, it stretches agonizingly slow that you almost feel an overly determined urge to melt onto the floor you’re standing on.

Your mind careens over your own words yet when Jake takes a tentative step towards you, his eyes search yours for crumbles – you hope are heavenly enough to have him breaking and you didn’t just offer yourself to refusal. You don’t evade it, instead you allow yourself a few seconds to savor the intoxicating tension.

No one has ever looked at you with this much want before and so you forget the ability to breath like tiny million sparkling stars are falling from the darkness of his eyes and right into in the lodge of your throat, so sharp and rigid and they’re bright, so bright it lights up your insides. Like lightness have found an abandoned cave –

And because Jake burns first, so frighteningly fast like melted candle wax. Your inside twist when his lips meet yours in desperation that emerges a gasp from you

- They fucking explode.

Your lips move against each other with famish, a thirst nestled so deep in both of you it can only be quenched by your kiss. His hand is on the curve of your jaw and yours form fists in the lines of his shirt. The pressure of his mouth upon yours renders your mind a foggy mess. So much so that when he moves you against the door, your back hitting it harshly you follow with no reluctance. Another pretty gasp escapes you at the impact and it gives his tongue access to your mouth.

A light moan falls from you, as the kiss deepens the bridges of your noses slide together and with a mind of their own his hands are like phantoms travelling over your body, palming your breasts over your shirt. your every sense becomes overwhelmed with his lips, his touch.

“Are you clean?” he pulls away briefly and you whine, eyes heavy lidded as they chase after his lips again. As if your cells need him to live as opposed to oxygen.

“What?”

“I’m going to fuck you so are you clean?” you blink at him, the fog clearing up for a moment and you almost frown close enough to take offense if your underwear sticking to you with wetness isn’t growing annoying,

“I’m clean,” you murmur, almost doused in shame that you don’t get to linger in before he’s diving back into you. his lips finding yours with fervor and the air bleeds red with desire.

With his hands down your underwear, he lightly brushes to tease at the wetness. Lips quirking in something akin to egoistical pride. And your expression turns sour despite the incontrollable bucking of your hips against his unmoving fingers.

“How come you’re this wet already?” he’s imprinting the words upon your cheeks, leaning down to drop the same bruising kisses to the skin of your neck and collarbone, drawing a map of possible regrets.

“I’m horny and I haven’t been fucked in weeks what did you expect?” you sneer, and his chuckles vibrates against your neck.

When he goes back in to kiss you, you feel your cognitive facilities shut down. Your hands with a mind of their own travel across his body, in his hair like you’re running on a time ticking bomb, and you need to feel every inch of him before it explodes.

“Get on the couch.” He whispers against your lips.

“You don’t have enough stamina to do it standing up?” you tease, a playful quirk of your lips that has his eyes darkening. You’re not sure if it’s anger or lust.

“Unless you want me to leave you like this you better zip it.”

Once you’re on the couch, he clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, his hands work fast on freeing his cock from his slacks and your mouth is falling apart with an open silent whimper when he runs the head of his cock down your covered slit. You pant into his mouth, spit dripping down your chin and you arch into him with a new sense of need coloring your moans.

“Hurry,” you mumble against his lips, your embarrassment shows plainly on your face and Jake only smirks at you.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your skirt and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of fabric around you. he slides your panties down your legs just enough to have your pussy on display for him. Jake’s eyes are feral and heavy as it trails over your figure, so intensely deep it has you squirming in your place. An uncontrollable need crawls over you mixing in with your frustration.

“Are you gonna fuck me like you said you would or are you gonna keep staring at me?” you huff, feeling your patience thinning.

His lips quirk upwards in flickers close to mockery as he smooths his hands over your legs, tad too gentle for your liking but when he’s looking up at you it’s not close to tender but rather like you had fallen right into the devil’s lap.

Just like he had planned all along.

He slowly sinks into your wetness, chuckling at how quickly your mouth falls open with a silent moan. He grinds into you, his own eyes falling shut at how your walls lock his cock inside of you and you’re more than grateful for that. Not wanting to be witnessed with a stupefied look on your face.

You want to – try to keep quiet as if a challenge had presented itself to you and you remain nothing but a too stubborn of a flower, refusing to be picked especially not by Jake Sim of all people and so you bite down on your lower lip. You almost taste the sweetness of victory on your lips and then it’s pulled so brutally away from you when the head of his cock hits that gummy spot and you convulse. Head falling back with a strangled moan.

“F-fuck-“ you clench around him and your hand scrambles for purchase in his locks, the other digging into the couch, the throbbing pain of your pinky long forgotten.

He falls forwards with a soft laugh, so melodic and unexpected it has your stomach twisting into knots you aren’t sure are nerves or pleasure. He buries his face in your neck as he sloppily drives his hips deeper into you and his lips draw a lazy map of salvia rather than actual kisses on the skin of your neck. It leads him right to your lips; the eye contact you hate so much transpires again. Your bodies keen in flawless harmony, it’s absolutely sinful.

“You were so talkative earlier, what happened bunny?” he whispers on top of your mouth, close enough to behold the want in your eyes. you attempt to glare at him and yet it melts right with your dignity with the touch of his fingers on your jaw, stopping you from looking away as he fucks into you harder “are you gonna thank me for taking care of it?” open mouthed kisses dot across your jawbone before lining his lips over yours, your chin in his hold as he thrusts into you.

When he leans back, you’re growing delirious, barely gripping into your remaining sanity when he smirks at you “come on say it.” He mumbles half-heartedly and you shake your head with a whimper, it echoes throughout his mind and ignites a bigger fire within. Curling into an ungodly soundtrack of sweaty bodies and the hankering to break you.

“Say thank you Jake for giving me your cock,” he mocks, his voice like devilish thorns against your skin and you push at his shoulder with a grunt.

“F-fuck you.” He doesn’t falter at the wavering of your voice, so debilitated compared to the way you glare at him and yet it turns him on even more.

He starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. It has your eyes rolling back into your head, mouth falling open with moans and whines- anything that could be good enough to indicate how he feels inside of you, how your cunt grips onto him in desperation for more, more, more.

You’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re struggling to breathe, struggling to control your sounds anymore. They spill over endlessly, and Jake knows they’ll be tattooed into his brain just like the first time he had heard music in his life. They will haunt him just like the clicks of a piano, so sweet, sugary sweet and addicting. He feels so good, inside of you, around you that tears start stinging in your eyes.

“Fuck- fuck Jake I’m coming oh- “you blabber.

“Shut the fuck up.” He presses his hand flat to your mouth, hushing you and pressing you further onto the couch and your eyes soften as you swallow, entranced by him. Your walls tighten around him and his tight grip falters but remains. His face is drenched in perspiration and so much want for you.

With the oxygen stolen from your lungs. Your breaths are quick and heaving and your body shakes in ecstasy as you feel your orgasm approaches quickly, building so intensely with the way his movements become jerky. Shooting your hand to your clit you work yourself up and further into the gates of iniquity. your whole body becomes taut, and you rock into your hands and chase after his cock. watching you melt under him is something Jake will be viciously proud of for a couple of days to come.

So much so that it’s almost an impossible challenge for him to pull out of you when his own high approaches dangerously overwhelming. With labored breaths, his eyes glued to your heaving figure. He spits on his hand and starts pumping his pulsating cock. His other hand scrambling for the tissues on the table and he sends himself over the edge. Your eyes are the only thing that he needs to fall.

As soon as the fog of lust clears up you feel a shift in the air. The gold and sparkles disappearing and washed away along with all the bent-up anger. Leaving behind nothing but a sliver of dullness and awkwardness that clings to your limbs. Jake moves from on top of you with a grimace. You watch him move to tidy himself up in almost blissful yet holding on by an ambiguous edge that tug at your heart painfully. When he looks at you, you don’t know why you almost feel like you want to disappear.

“Jay has been asking for you. Fix your hair before leaving I don’t want him knowing about this.”

Oh. Oh. It shouldn’t be a surprise to you that he doesn’t want anyone to know about this and you do realize how inappropriate all of this is and yet you still stumble into a bitter feeling. An old picture starts burning in your mind, the same one of you falling into desperate repetition of a prayer to someday be good enough to keep and not a sparkling piece of art that holds no actual value.

“I’m gonna leave first.” Jake speaks into your growing silence and the click of the door is the only indication of him leaving.

You don’t know how long you stay there on the couch. A couple of hundred emotions take over you, guilt, anger, regret, and shame. So much shame and all it took was one slip to throw you into the maze of agony so familiar yet so frigid and cold.

When you walk out of the room you run into Jay right away like a mockery of the devil you’re growing sick of playing with. There’s a knowing smirk spreading across his face as he studies you, one that you don’t get to see because you’re so busy looking anywhere else.

“You and Jake had a good talk? Sorted out the tension?”

“Yeah, all good.” You mumble almost inaudible as you push past him with a burning face.

Jake watches the interaction between you two with intense attention. His eyes betray him as they follow your figure almost religiously. and when Jay strolls to him with a shit-eating smile plastered across his face., Jake groans sinking down into his chair and hoping to somehow vanish.

“Don’t even fucking start,”

“I didn’t even say anything.” Jay retorts with a laugh.

“I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t want to hear it.”

Jake’s hiding is deep-rooted and so you remain unaware of it all.

Once you’re one step in your apartment the sounds of all the too familiar trio have your shoulders deflating even further if possible. Despite your immense love for them the need for a quiet night after the hectic day you had is bigger. You can kiss it goodbye now.

“Hey,” Niki greets you as soon as your figure is in the living room, the other two sitting next to him on the couch turn from the tv to you as well and you force a smile upon your face despites the aching in your body,

“Hey guys,”

“Heeseung is helping me get to plat.” Jungwon tells you, eyes brimming with joy. It has your chest enveloping with warmth. a breath of fresh air like you’ve been choking all day. On your thoughts and on lingering stares

“Slay.” You ruffle his hair as you pass by him and into the kitchen, gravitating towards a glass of wine that you’re sure your soul needs.

“Are you okay?” Niki asks, eyes dancing across your features. Your mind clutters full of the earlier events and you down your glass of wine in a moment.

“I’m perfect.” You reply, pouring yourself another glass and running away from the concern lacing Niki’s eyes “I’m gonna take a bath and call it a day. Don’t trash my apartment.” You call out to them as you start heading towards your room.

“Without me?” Heeseung says from behind you, you ignore him and the only thing you hear before closing your door is the impact of Niki’s hand hitting his head and a loud ‘Ouch’ following.

The darkness of your room welcomes you, in a rather unexpected coldness that has you wondering what home really is. It’s all so stupid, and yet you wonder why you feel like a hole had opened right under you. staring at your glass of wine you feel like the air, not free but hallow.

One slip was all it took.

→ taglist : @slutforsjy @wonwoos-wineparty @nxzz-skz @piripurora @vousty

@realrintaro @slut4hee @chartrucewhore @iveivory @hearteyesforseungsung

@jooniesbears-blog @hee4lifer @pretty-bluntz @babrieeee @mandoscyare

@stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @softieluvsyou @seunghancore @chaewonshoney

@chaeyunloveeee @beommii @fuxktaekook @antonsgirlfriend

@direxila @rockyhedgehog @nessas-archive @lukeys-giggle

@arikazu @pochamocharoll @chlodavids

157 notes · View notes

redtsundere-writes · 1 month

Text

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mmafigther!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader

Part 11. The Other One

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Warnings: Cursed words. I only read it once lol Word Count: 4667 words. Author's Note: We are so close to the end. I already want to get to the grand finale, but I can only write one chapter at the time. uwu Thanks for all the support so far!

Btw I made a PLAYLIST

“Salmon or hake?” I wondered as I compared the two frozen fish. I was in the frozen section of the best supermarket in the city. My exposed skin was cold by being exposed to the bed of ice and near the refrigerators full of snacks and fast foods. The nerves in my hands were beginning to tighten from holding the frozen packages for too long.

Ladies slowly dragging their carts through the white aisles, children crying to their mothers who already want to go home and the employees running from side to side behind me. The popular music framed my thoughts as I read the nutritional facts for each product, focusing on the grams of protein. Since I was in charge of cooking for Sukuna’s birthday, I had to choose the best products to make him the best dinner he ever had

Salmon has 20 grams of protein, 13 grams of fat and zero carbohydrates. In addition to its contribution of Omega-3, for high-performance athletes it is the ideal fish to eat, since it has a very good ratio of proteins and healthy fats. If I baked it in the oven, I was sure it would be delicious. The only problem? The famous mercury. Although, according to some studies, it is true that salmon is the fish that contains the least amount. Hake is usually its alternative, which has less fat, but the same or more amount of protein, also it digests better.

“Salmon has more potassium, selenium, and vitamin B12." A female voice interrupted my mental debate.

My eyes widened when I saw the beauty next to me. A thin and tall blonde woman. Her blonde hair was long and her bangs looked great on her. His thin eyebrows framed her big brown eyes. His tight-fitting black turtleneck shirt and high-waisted pants made her look phenomenal. It was like admiring a beautiful porcelain statue, you could easily get lost in the details of her person.

"Oh, thanks. Are you a nutritionist or something like that?” I asked curiously as I returned the hake to the bed of ice.

"I'm a jiu-jitsu coach. I never thought I would meet the Medusa Snake in a supermarket,” she joked.

I should have seen it before. Her physical build was magnificent for a jiu-jitsu fighter. Her arms were perfectly toned, and his long legs could knock down any rival with one kick. I started to envy her body.

"I was told you were Ryomen's coach, I see that you are… very close," she said as she looked directly at the bracelet that Sukuna had given me earlier this morning. That was strange.

"It is a complicated task, but I think that every day we understand each other more," I answered honestly.

"I wanted to be his coach, you know?” she told me as if nothing had happened.

Something in me set off a warning alarm. I could sense that this conversation had a double intention. Was she threatening my position? Did she know that I wouldn't be Sukuna's coach anytime soon? Was she just trying to have a nice conversation in the middle of the frozen section? She was a beautiful woman to admire, but I didn't like where this was going.

"Who are you?" I asked confused, completely breaking the flow of the conversation.

"My name is Yuki Tsukumo," she introduced herself with a smile. “This is the Yuki who sent the bracelet to Sukuna!” I thought, trying not to reflect surprise on my face, but I'm not sure if I did it. “I see he received my gift, it's a shame he didn't want to use it."

"Sukuna doesn't like receiving gifts, that's why he gave it to me,” I answered, my tone sounding more defensive than I intended.

"Thank goodness he didn't throw it in the trash," she said before taking the hake I left. "I hope he doesn't throw you away either." With that threat, she walked away, getting lost in the cereal aisle.

I just saw the beautiful woman swinging her hips away, like a poisonous viper with beautiful colored scales. I couldn't help but see the gold bracelet that rested delicately on my wrist. My gaze hyperfixed on the letters engraved on it, wondering what kind of relationship this strange woman had with Sukuna. I put the salmon in my basket and continued with my shopping in an attempt to forget the unusual conversation.

After paying for the salmon and the rest of the ingredients I would use for the special dinner, my phone started ringing. I arranged the plastic bags in one hand to get my phone out of my pants. It was Yuuji.

"Hello, Y/n!" His friendly voice sounded from the other side. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Not really. I am only going to make Sukuna’s dinner for his birthday,” I answered as I walked back home.

"Cancel that. My parents just invited me and my brothers to dinner at the restaurant they just opened in the bay.” I stopped dead and sighed. “The salmon will have to wait until tomorrow.” "Do you have a pretty dress?" he wondered out of nowhere.

"Why you ask?". I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I asked my parents if you could come. When they found out you were Sukuna's friend, they said yes.”

"Why did you do that?" I asked him, even more confused. This couldn't be good.

"Because Choso is going, duh," he answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Because I was thinking about Sukuna 24/7, I had completely forgotten about Choso's existence. Yuuji still doesn't know that I like his other brother now. Plus, his parents will be there. Oh no, this can't be happening. This would be a disaster, I could sense it. Did I really have to go? My feelings churned in my chest the further I walked down the sidewalk. I stopped when I reached the crosswalk. The traffic light was red.

"I don't think this is a good idea..."

"Don't say that! It's the perfect opportunity for Choso to see you slay like the queen you are,” Yuuji lifted my spirits that I was dragging on the ground.

"Hang up the phone now!" I heard Gojo yell at him from a distance, Yuuji was still be in the gym, training with Sukuna.

"See you in the afternoon," he said goodbye before hanging up.

The light turned green, but I still couldn't cross. I stood frozen on the sidewalk, stunned by the unusual invitation. I felt lost. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to go because I really like hanging out with the boys, but I was afraid to find out what my true feelings were for Choso and Sukuna. Also, I raised Choso’s hopes up. What if I didn’t like him anymore because I liked Sukuna? Thai was a mess.

The traffic light turned red again. Why was I questioning my feelings for Choso? It's true that I liked Sukuna, but I liked Choso the moment I saw him. Sukuna had been an acquired taste from the times we've slept together. The gifts and me living with him seemed to have no meaning to him. I was in a dangerous situation, and he just wanted to protect me, right? Everything was so confusing. Maybe if I was to go to dinner, I had to find out what my true feelings were.

The traffic light turned green again.

After picking my outfit, an everything shower and doing my makeup, I was ready. It had been a long time since the last time I dressed up like a fine lady for dinner. I always have to wear sporty clothes due to work. Putting on a cute pink dress and applying a small wing eyeliner made me feel like a pretty princess. I brushed my hair in front of my large bathroom mirror while my stomach churned nervously. Seeing myself so different from how I normally look was like seeing an old friend I hadn't seen in years. As I put the brush back in its place, I noticed that I still had Sukuna's bracelet on my wrist.

“I don't think it's a good idea to wear it today,” I thought aloud before taking it off and putting it in a jewelry box.

I went down to the entrance at the time Sukuna and I had agreed to leave. My heels echoed with every step I took. I already wanted him to see me as “the queen” that I am, Yuuji's words. I went downstairs with every intention of surprising him, but I was the one who ended up surprised. He was already there, fixing his elegant suit in front of the mirror. I never thought I'd see a man like Sukuna, who always dresses in T-shirts and shorts, wearing a sharp black suit with an ivory turtleneck sweater. This was not the cranky man I coach, this was a millionaire man with a mobster vibe straight out of a romance novel written by a woman. From the shine on his shoes to his well-groomed hair, Sukuna looked like the jackpot.

“You look... different,” he said as he analyzed my whole body. “Of course I look different! What kind of compliment is that?!” I thought annoyed.

“You look different too.” I told him reluctantly.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked. I just nodded excitedly before following him out the door.

In the nighttime tapestry of the city, the bright lights painted a surreal panorama. The asphalt shone like an ebony river, reflecting the headlights of passing cars like wandering fireflies. The city had an air of mystery and adventure. Tokyo was a place where anything could happen, where dreams came true and nightmares lurked in the shadows. The steering wheel turned under my fingers like a rudder guiding a ship through a sea of metal. The roar of the engine was a discordant symphony that echoed in the silence of the night.

“How did training with Gojo go?” I asked him to get a topic of conversation.

"Everything was going well until I had to train again with the useless rookies,” he muttered in annoyance, gripping the steering wheel firmly. "Have you thought about who your replacement will be?" He asked.

"I have a few candidates in mind,” I answered. "In fact, a coach approached me when I went to the market, but she didn't give me a good vibe.”

"Why?" he asked, curious.

"I think you already know each other."

"What's her name?”

"Yuki Tsukumo." Sukuna braked the car in its tracks, making us bounce in our seats. Thank God we had our seat belts on. If we hadn’t, I would have slammed into the glass. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I exclaimed with my heart in my hand.

Sukuna didn't answer me. He squeezed the steering wheel, clearly annoyed, to park next to the curb. He took off his seatbelt to lean back on the steering wheel. Who was this Yuki Tsukumo that could make Sukuna act like this? An ex-partner? Impossible, Yuuji told me that he has never had a girlfriend. Someone he slept with in the past? I don't blame him, she's beautiful.

"You better not tell Choso or Yuuji that you ran into he," he told me after letting out a long sigh.

"Why not? Is there something I should know?” I asked him confused with the whole situation.

"She is Choso's ex-fiancée,” he answered before holding his forehead in concern.

"Oh…” I could not believe it.

Sukuna POV

I couldn't believe this blonde bitch had shown up again. Finally, when we had all left her in the past, she decided to come back for more. I clearly remembered the first time I saw that stupid girl smiling from cheek to cheek as if she were a pure soul. Choso looked so happy and proud to introduce her as his future wife. Poor asshole, he didn't know what he was getting into... and neither did I.

He still vividly remembered the night where everything turned into a shit show. The UFC had paid me the best suite in Las Vegas for my first championship fight. Sometimes I closed my eyes to return to that majestic place. Admiring the Strip, a glittering ribbon of casinos, hotels, and attractions that never sleeps, Paris's iconic Eiffel Tower twinkling with a thousand lights, and the High Roller Ferris wheel rising above the horizon like a giant lighthouse. I fucked a prostitute in the middle of the wide balcony, enjoying the panorama that stretched out in front of me.

"Sukuna!" The whore screamed my name desperately.

My hips didn't stop pounding into ramming her. Her tits were bouncing in my face and her legs were spread across the couch. I opened her ass to reach the deepest part of her being. He had paid a good amount for her, he was willing to destroy her physically and emotionally. I pulled her hair while my cock hit her cervix, her limit. I was so close to reaching the climax, ensuring my future victory... but some idiot had to ring the bell at that moment.

I was so close that I didn't care that the person would stay outside all night. I didn't care if it was Choso, Gojo, Yuuji or my parents. I was very busy. The idiot didn't seem to want to understand that I wasn't going to open it, so he kept insisting on the fucking doorbell. Ding-dong. Ding-Dong. Ding-fucking-Dong. The annoying sound made me lose concentration.

"Fuck!" I screamed before pulling my cock out of the whore. She sighed in annoyance, plopping down on the couch. "Hide in the closet or something, I'm not done with you." I told her before wrapping a towel around my hips.

"I'm going to charge you extra!" She yelled at me before following my instruction.

I straightened my towel before reluctantly opening the door. In front of me was the last person I thought I would meet. It was Yuki, Choso's guest. What the fuck was she doing here at midnight? Especially alone. From her pajamas and her slightly messy hair, I could tell she had escaped from the bed she shared with my younger brother.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked her, annoyed. "It better be important."

"I want to talk about business, can I come in?" she asked me with her usual flirtatious smile.

"No. Just tell me what you have to say so you can leave me alone,” I answered. I could already feel my balls turning blue.

"Do you kiss your mother with that filthy?" she joked.

"I'm not in the mood, spit it out before I slam the door in your face," I blurted out. It was the last warning I was going to give her.

"I noticed that you don't have a trainer who specializes in jiu-jitsu. I know you don't accept women in your gym, but if you allow me to be part of your team, I can…".

I couldn't help but laugh in her face, cutting her off completely. Did she just interrupt my good luck ritual to offer herself as my trainer? I knew she was a jiu-jitsu trainer at a local gym, but I never thought she had the balls to ask me to recruit her. Couldn't she do this another day or in the morning? Why right here when Choso is surely sleeping peacefully thinking that she is by his side? Was this shit serious? There were so many questions about her behavior that I could only laugh.

"I don't see what's funny about it," Yuki said, crossing her arms.

"Then you have a terrible sense of humor," I answered. "Is that all you have to tell me?"

"I'm sure I'm a better fighter than you, I could kick your ass if I wanted to," she said annoyed.

"I want to see you try," I said. “She wouldn't dare,” I thought for sure.

Well, she dared. She attacked me by surprise with a kick to the abdomen. I lowered my arm, preventing it from connecting completely, but it did hit my side. I couldn't defend myself well while just having a towel on. One wrong move and I was already naked. I backed away out of inertia, allowing her to enter the suite. She jumped at me to continue hitting me.

"Bitch!" I screamed while covering my private parts.

"I'm going to show you that you need me on your team!" she shouted with a smile on his face.

"I don't want anyone else on my team!" I exclaimed.

How the hell did we get to this situation? I wasn't sure, but I had to do something about it. She pulled and punched me, trying to take me down like any jiu-jitsu fighter would do. She launched another kick at me, this time I evaded it in time, but she broke a lamp in the process. I was debating in my mind whether I should knock her out with one punch. I could not do it. Even though she was crazy, she was Choso's fiancée. My first option was to call one of my brothers or someone saner.

"Just think about it seriously, with my brain and your muscles I could make you a millionaire in less than you think," she told me excitedly.

So she was after the money. Which is normal… but that didn't explain why she was acting so secretive. Why didn't she tell Choso he wanted a job on the Team Black? There was something else she wasn't telling me. I entered the master bedroom as quickly as possible without exposing my cock to grab the phone, but she ended up cornering me against the closet before I could get to it. At the sudden knock, the prostitute screamed.

"Who is it?" Yuki asked me confused.

"I didn't know he had a wife!" The whore screamed opening the closet door. “Oh no,” I thought. "Please don't hit me!" The poor girl yelled as she fled the scene.

"Hey! We're not done yet!” I yelled.

And as if fate was mocking me, I dropped the towel. I was in the middle of a teenager's worst nightmare. Yuki shamelessly looked down, making this more awkward than it already was. By this point I was praying that this was a bad taste prank. I just wanted Yuuji or Gojo to come into the room with a camera in hand, mocking my reaction, but that never happened.

"Nice girl you hired," she laughed at me. And just when I thought this was only going to get worse, I heard the voice of my potential savior.

"Sukuna!" I heard Choso's voice from the door as he rang the doorbell as if his life depended on it.

"You worried your future husband," I told her before pushing her to let go, so I could put the towel back on.

"Hire me or I'll tell Choso I cheated on him with you," Yuki threatened me.

"What?!" I asked him, frowning at the tremendous bullshit she just said.

That's when it hit me. Yuki came to ask me for a job without Choso because she is only with him for convenience. She's only with him to blatantly get close to me. Since I don't accept women in the gym, this was his solution to get to me. I should have seen it before. I remember how at dinner with our parents he spent the time talking about jiu-jitsu and the UFC, sharing his extensive knowledge on the subject. Everyone was delighted with her, but she drove me crazy.

"Are you that desperate for money?" I asked him, not believing what was happening.

"You don't have much time,” Yuki crossed her arms as the ringing continued.

"Sukuna!" Choso exclaimed again.

"I trust Choso, he is not stupid enough to fall for something like that."

End of Sukuna POV

"Choso was stupid enough to fall for that,” Sukuna blurted out after recounting the tragedy that happened that day. "He knew about my lucky ritual and to this day he still thinks I fucked his fiancée," he said as he looked towards the car in front of us.

I was just listening to him while Sign Of The Times by Harry Styles was playing on the radio. We were still parked so that Sukuna could tell me in great detail what had happened with Yuki and Choso. It was a hard story to believe. A woman interrupting his suite in the middle of his lucky ritual and then threatening to break off his relationship with his brother over a measly coaching job is not something you hear every day.

"I tried to explain to him several times what happened, but he never wanted to listen to me. Then he told Yuuji and since that idiot doesn't know how to shut up, everyone in the gym knows,” he explained. "It's an absurd story, I know, but…".

"I believe you," I told him before he could finish his sentence.

"You do?" he looked at me, confused.

"Why are you surprised? I believed you when you told me about your lucky ritual.” I said. "Is it a strange story? Yes, but we are a team. If you tell me the sky is pink, I believe you. If you tell me that pigs fly, I believe you. If you tell me that Yuki Tsukumo is a son of a bitch, I'll believe you.”

Sukuna smiled at my response. He looked relieved, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. I smiled back at his reaction. Sukuna always has been honest with me, I had no reason to doubt him. Even though I had little time left as his coach, I planned to continue by his side. I don't know if it was the sad story or my feelings towards him got in the way that made me take off my seat belt to reach him. He didn't know what exactly was going through his mind, but whatever it was, he needed a hug.

My body felt light when he reciprocated the gesture. Our bodies melted in the warmth of the moment. His hands traveled down my back to press me closer to his broad chest. I would have liked to stop time to stay here all my life. Maybe Sukuna didn't like me back, but I knew I someone important to him, and I was happy with that.

The luxurious restaurant at the Grand Palace Hotel had an elegant atmosphere with high ceilings, panoramic windows and sparkling chandeliers. Sukuna and I made our way among the tables covered with white tablecloths and velvet chairs that invited guests to delight in an exquisite menu. In the distance, we saw his family. They were happy to see us, but they were also clearly disappointed for arriving 20 minutes late. Everyone looked elegant and sophisticated, especially Choso. He always looked good, but today he looked phenomenal in his gray suit and white shirt. He greeted me with a smile on his face as soon as we approached the table.

"You look beautiful,” he complimented me. My heart skipped a beat with happiness. “Are you watching, Sukuna? This is how you give a compliment,” I thought with blushing cheeks.

"I thought I raised you to always be on time," the mother scolded Sukuna.

According to Yuuji, Kaori Itadori was a highly sophisticated and strict mother. She has always focused on giving his children the best education so that they would grow up to be strong men and providers. An extremely traditional and Catholic woman. She sounded like the worst mother-in-law you could have.

"There was a lot of traffic," Sukuna answered reluctantly as we sat at the table.

Choso helped me, pulling my chair like a perfect gentleman. I was so nervous having him so close, since Yuuji gave me his seat, so I could sit next to him. My mind was at peace realizing that I still liked Choso a lot.

"At this time? The report says that the streets are quite clear,” his mother challenged him.

"Honey, it was only 20 minutes. You're going to scare his girlfriend away,” her husband, Jin Itadori, told her. He was like any dad, pretty chill and care free.

"She is not my girlfriend. She's my coach,” Sukuna clarified, starting to get annoyed.

"But you live together," his mother said.

"You live together?" Choso asked me confused. “Oh no,” I thought. I had barely arrived, and I already wanted to go home. I had a feeling this woman was going to try to embarrass me in any way possible the rest of the evening.

"It is a long story," I said, trying to cut the tension.

"You see, Sukuna kicked his ex's ass. This ex almost raped her in the past, so Sukuna offered her to live with him so she would feel safe,” Yuuji explained the situation.

"Yuuji!" Sukuna and I scolded him.

"I'm just trying to help!" Yuuji defended himself.

I wanted to die. Yuuji just told the whole table my life trauma as if it were the plot of a movie he watched on Netflix. I hid in my hands from shame, praying that the earth would swallow me whole.

"I'll take a smoking break," Choso said before getting up from the table to retreat to the balcony.

"Is it necessary to ask those kinds of questions now?" Sukuna asked his mother, already annoyed.

"You know what I think about concubinage," His mother reproached him, disappointed.

"We're not a couple. We just work together.” Sukuna rolled his eyes.

"Besides, Y/n likes Choso, don’t you?" Yuuji asked me to make his mother stop bugging me with questions about my relationship with her son.

"I need fresh air," I excused myself to get out of there as quickly as possible.

I knew this was a bad idea from the start. I should have said no to Yuuji. I went out to the balcony to breathe deeply and admire the view of the city. I looked at Choso to explain what was happening. I found him smoking on the other side of the balcony, just as he had told us. He looked so elegant and mysterious in front of the pretty city lights. A beautiful contrast between brightness and darkness.

"Long time no see," I greeted him, approaching him.

"Does Sukuna treat you well?" He asked me, ignoring my greeting. It seemed like being straightforward ran in the family.

"I can not complain," I answered honestly. "Sometimes he's a jerk, but you already know that," I joked. He smiled with the cigarette between his lips.

"I know… very well," he said as he blew the smoke into the wind, being careful not to blow the smoke in my face.

"Does it bother you that I live with him?" I asked him worried.

"Of course not, I just didn't expect it," he answered. "Yuuji told me that you're going to quit soon, is that true?" I was happy to see that he was treating me as always.

"That's right, I'm very excited to return to the gym with my team," I explained with a smile.

Choso despite having some similarities with Sukuna, he was so kind in comparison. His voice was sweet, his touch was pleasant, and his words filled me with joy. My heart moved every time he spoke to me. In the end, I realized that I still liked him, and I was very happy that it was that way. He was my ideal man.

"Are you still thinking about calling me when you become the protector again?" He wondered with a thread of hope. My cheeks blushed redder as I listened. I had already forgotten what I had said to him that night at the bar.

"You know it," I answered him with a smile.

Masterlist.

Order your own fanfic! (Starting price: $5 USD)

Tag list: @maskedpacific @thepurpleempath @mazzd4 @charlie-xo @s0uldarling @sunako-0120 @berranurates @00frenchfries00 @crowned-gemini @alialucille @azuremyst99 @azuremyst99

87 notes · View notes

cherubify · 2 months

Text

notes: vendetta/di chris, is this fluff?, gym setting, chris is an awkward gym bro, drabble / sfw

for chris, a good gym requires two simple conditions: a functioning ventilation system and sufficient iron to pump. nothing else matters. if he's lucky maybe it'll smell like air fresheners and if he's extra lucky, sanitisers. it doesn't bother him that some people dress little enough for one's imagination, or the fact that some gym goers smell like they dumpster dive back to back. he's here to do one thing only, and that's to get stronger and bigger– so that he can be ready for anything.

and he won't admit it, but he also comes for another reason.

you sit on the bench, a towel on your head as you exhale softly. he's already detaching the weights from his equipment beside you, but you don't notice him (like usual). your eyes are glued to your phone as you do goodness knows what, he guesses you're taking note of the reps you just completed.

he doesn't mean to be nosey– and he keeps to himself for the most part– but he knows all the regulars and he's never seen you before up until a month ago. your routine is simple, lift and end your day with a run. you're always coincidentally within his line of sight; it's not like he's been particularly observing you or anything.

your routines clashes with his sometimes, like when he benches so do you, and you unknowingly accompany him on a run on a treadmill. (read: though he thinks its time he slows down on the speed setting because his knees are increasingly unwilling to comply...guess it comes with age.)

hey. he wants to call out to you with these words. congrats on your new PR.

but you can't hear him. not with the towel on your head and the lack of psychic powers. but it's almost as if you can hear him, because you offer him a side glance. his heart jumps in his chest as your eyes clearly meet his. if it weren't for the lack of a smile on your face, he would definitely voice those thoughts.

you stand up, or try to until you wobble sideways. things happen in a blur– the carpet was inches away when you fall into a strong pair of arms. your phone tumbles onto the floor as your towel slips off your head when you look up at the stranger. the brunette's face was inches away from yours, big arms awkwardly wrapping around your smaller frame. you were dwarfed in his hold, and you swallow nervously as he knits his brows.

"are you alright?" he's close enough that you can smell his morning mints. your breath hitches in your throat as he inspects your flustered expression.

"y-yeah," you force out, though it comes out in a squeak. your face heats up and you scrape your shoes against the floor, struggling to stand. "just got a little dizzy. i forgot to take breakfast."

"oh-" he helps you onto your feet before frantically fishing for something in his pockets. "-wait a sec."

he fumbles before whipping out a protein bar, a tiny rectangle juxtaposed with his large hand. he holds it out to you and you hesitantly take it. you read the packaging. a chocolate brownie protein bar... with 20 grams of protein.

"um, thanks," you pick up your phone, eyes still on him. "it's my first time meeting you, i think. your name is..?"

"chris, you can call me chris," he answers as he scoops up your towel. you take it from him, a small smile on your lips.

"well chris," you hold everything in one hand, the other hand nervously stroking the hem of your sports bra. "i gotta go, but i guess i'll see you around?"

he nods solemnly, and you stand there for a moment before leaving. you consider taking one last glance, but you decide against it, rushing into the changing room instead.

meanwhile, chris exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding. he plops onto a bench, thoughtfully rubbing the stubble that peppers his chin. he hopes he'll have time to come by again tomorrow.

all content written by @cherubify ! do not repost, edit, plagiarise, or use my work for AI. requests are indefinitely open.

#resident evil #resident evil chris redfield #resident evil drabble #resident evil x reader #chris redfield #chris redfield blurb #chris redfield x y/n #chris redfield x you #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield drabble #chris redfield oneshot #chris redfield fluff

75 notes · View notes

trashpandacraft · 11 months

Text

hi! ok so i'm going to talk about one of my top-five favourite things, which is: dyeing stuff! this is going to be specifically about dyeing protein fibres (animal fibres—wool, alpaca, silk, etc) in a pretty low-key way in your kitchen.

to be clear up front: this is not the most scientific, most perfectly reproducible, or most Objectively Correct way to dye things. i get a lot of fibre that i like this way, though, and i think that other people can, too.

fibre i've dyed that i think is neat:

you can also dye yarn like this:

yes, i like blue a lot. i also really like variegation and heathering, which is why most of the fibre here has patches of white—it's an intentional choice that i've made. you can make different choices.

here is what you need to dye things:

fibre, vinegar, dye, a pot, heat, and some water.

that was so you don't get overwhelmed by the impending wall of text. here is what you need to dye things (it's the same stuff!), but with way more detail:

fibre or yarn. this is the big one, obviously. i tend to dye in 100-200 gram batches, because that's approximately what fits on my stovetop easily. if you're very nervous about felting or harming your fibre, you can use stuff that's been treated to be superwash, start with yarn (which is harder to felt than fibre is), or use a felt-resistant breed like dorset or suffolk. honestly, though, i learned with merino because that's what i had, and it was fine. again, though, this guide is only for protein fibres. it will not work for things like cotton. the only exception to this is nylon, which will take on some colour, but less than a protein fibre will.

a mordant. this is a fancy way of saying a thing that makes dye stick, and for what we're doing here, it's citric acid or vinegar. your grocery store definitely has at least one of them, though if you can choose, i prefer citric acid, because i love wet wool smell but i do not always love wet wool vinegar smell.

dye. i use acid dyes, and am personally deeply loyal to dharma acid dyes, but ashford and jacquard acid dyes work the same way. if you don't want to buy dye or don't have access to it, food colouring will often work, as well, though i haven't tried this with natural food colourings and have no idea how well they'll work.

a dedicated dye pot. ok, if you're doing food dyes, you don't need this. if you're not, it's definitely best practice, though i don't know how dangerous it is not to. any large metal pot will do, but my favourite option is hotel pans, which are those huge metal pan/tray things that hold food at buffets and the like. i have a full-size one that's 15cm deep, and a half-size one that's 4cm deep. they're great because they let you lay out the fibre you're working with so you can see most of it in a single layer.

dedicated dye utensils. as before, i don't know how much of a huge deal this is. i'll be honest and admit that for several years i had a single pair of tongs that got used for all tong-requiring events, including dyeing, and i'm still alive. i suggest that you have at least a big spoon, and a big spoon and tongs are even better.

something to mix the dye in. yeah, i use empty plastic sports drink or soda bottles for this. you can be fancy and get mason jars or little squirt bottles or whatever, and if you get super into dyeing you'll want to mix up dye stocks, but that's way outside the scope of what we're doing here. i like the powerade bottles that have a little squirty mouthpiece, because it's fun to squirt dye onto things.

personal protective equipment. i think this is the part of things that freaks people out. ideally, you wear plastic gloves and a mask (yeah, like your covid masks) when you're working with dye. realistically, i almost never remember to put on gloves and just accept that my hands are going to be blue sometimes. you should wear a mask, because dye is an irritant, but the world is an imperfect place and i have wicked bad adhd and sometimes i forget. this isn't advice. i'm just being honest. you should use some kind of safety stuff. you probably won't die if you don't.

you might also want some little random bits: an old toothbrush or paintbrush, a pipe cleaner, some toothpicks, etc. this is mostly if you like speckles, or if you want very small patches of colour.

so first: there are a million ways to dye things, and i'm not convinced that any of them are objectively correct. i do what i do and it works for me. some of the things i do are the opposite of what most guides suggest, but i do them because i like the effects they create.

ok, that's all the background stuff you need. let's dye some stuff!

the number one most important thing to remember when you're dyeing is this:

you can always add more colour. you cannot take it away.

that's in fancy writing and bold because every once in a while i forget this, and every single time i end up regretting it.

here is how to dye things:

put water, citric acid (or vinegar), and fibre into a pot. add dye and heat. let cool completely. rinse the fibre in cool water, then hang to dry.

like, sure, we're going to go into way more detail, but push come to shove, if you do that, you're going to end up with dyed fibre. there are a lot of tutorials telling you that you must soak your fibre first, or you must add your citric acid this way, or hold the water at exactly this temperature, and i'm here to tell you that while any of these things can give you different results, those results aren't necessarily better.

the only way that you can totally screw this up is by accidentally felting your fibre, so before i get into the way more detail part of things, i'm going to talk about that.

how not to felt your fibre

i feel like if you've read this far, you know how things felt: wool, heat, and agitation. you may also notice that at least two of these things are required for dyeing. this can be stressful! but you don't have to be afraid of it. there's only been one time that i felted something to the point that it was unusable, and that happened because i literally fell asleep for several hours while the pot was on the stove. you can avoid doing this by simply setting an alarm—this is a good idea anyhow, because you'll want to check on your dye pot!

when you're dyeing, use the lowest heat that you can while still keeping the water at a simmer. if your stove, like mine, has one burner that's wildly unpredictable and sort of out of control, you may want to look for some sort of flame diffuser, also called a flame tamer or a simmer ring. i bought one on amazon for about fourteen dollars, and it's literally just a thick metal circle. it works fine.

you can also keep the heat low by using a pot with a thick bottom, though in my experience those are expensive, and if i had one i would be using it for soup, not wool.

avoid shocking your wool—never put room temperature wool into hot water, and never put hot wool into cold water. leave your wool in the dye bath until it's cooled completely, which for me usually means overnight.

finally, obviously you have to move the fibre around some. you'll need to peek under it in the pan, and when you're done, you have to rinse it and squish out the water. try to minimise handling, though. don't run water directly onto the fibre, don't get a wooden spoon and stir your dye pot around, don't wring the fibre dry when it's done.

you're probably never going to be perfect. i often find that i lose a gram or two of wool where fibres have grabbed onto each other, or where parts of the ends clumped up. it's not really felted, just sort of compacted, but it's not great to work with, and i'd rather lose a gram of fibre than fuss with the clumpy bits.

back to how to dye things

let's take it step by step, assuming a hundred grams of fibre.

put your pan on the stove and fill it halfway with water. add either a teaspoon of citric acid or a tablespoon of vinegar. this is going to help the dye strike, or stick to the fibre. the teaspoon/tablespoon is a guideline, but one that it's fine to exceed. adding more will help the dye strike faster, which can be useful if you're trying to create blocks of colour on your fibre. i usually err on the side of a little more than the guidelines, and just eyeball this—if you feel like the dye isn't taking well, you can add more later.

add your fibre to the pan. this is the first place you have to think about what you want the finished fibre to look like! you can put it into the pan any way you want, but i suggest trying to keep it in a relatively even layer, regardless of what that layer looks like. here are some ways to get specific effects:

if you want a gradient from one end of the fibre to the other, use a rectangular pan and lay your fibre out so that the line of it is parallel to the short sides of the pan

if you want a short, repeating gradient, use a rectangular pan and lay your fibre out so that the line of it is parallel to the long sides of the pan

if you want something that starts with very close repeats that get further apart as you go down the fibre, make an approximate spiral

if you don't want A Pattern (i usually don't) just lay things out in a single layer, more or less

here comes the next exciting part! decide if you want to let your fibre soak or not. again, doing or not doing this gives you some different effects!

soaking your fibre will mean that dye takes more evenly. if you want consistent colours, you'll want to soak.

not soaking your fibre means that the dye takes less evenly. the fibre on top will have less acid available to it, spends less time in the dye bath, and also has to actually get wet before it will start to dye. i actually love doing this, and think it affords a lot of cool opportunities to play with and layer colours.

if you're soaking, leave the fibre there until it's submerged. if not, don't.

now you're going to add dye! decision time, again.

you can add dye when the water is cold, which will give you more even dye coverage, and in my experience gives the colours more time to mix together

you can add dye when when the water is hot, which will give you less even coverage, and tends to encourage the colours to stay more delineated

probably surprising no one, i tend to heat the water first unless i'm starting with a base colour or i'm doing a two-colour gradient.

time to mix up some dye

as i mentioned earlier, i'm assuming that you're using powered acid dyes for this. if you're not, this mixing up part is technically optional—but doing it gives you way more control about how and where you place your colours, so i'm going to assume that you'll do it.

i usually mix dye in some sort of empty drink bottle. regardless of what you're using, before you add dye to anything, put some water in the bottle, wipe off the lip, put the lid on tightly, and shake the bottle vigorously. if there is any leakage at all, do not use that bottle. find a better bottle. if your bottle cap doesn't seal well or if you have an empty condiment bottle that's just a little wonky or whatever, you will get dye all over the kitchen, and your landlord will be really really mad about it, and you will regret your life choices. (if you own your kitchen, you can do whatever you want, but this isn't about you and you know it.)

so you have a bottle that seals tightly! great job. dump out the water and carefully put some dye powder into the bottle. remember earlier how i said you should be wearing a mask? this is the part where you should be wearing a mask.

i know that people are reading this and going, ok, but how much dye do i put in?

my answer is put in the amount that feels right in your heart, and don't forget the number one rule of dyeing things, which is that you can always add more colour, but you cannot take it away.

this isn't a very scientific answer. most dyes have a guideline about how much to use, expressed as a percentage of the dry weight of the fibre, which is what you use to get the whole quantity of fibre dyed evenly. for dharma dyes, it's like 1.5-2%, i think ashford is 1%, and jacquard is more like 2-4%, depending on the colour.

here is the problems with doing that in your kitchen: first, using that much dye will get you an evenly dyed piece of fibre, which—for me, at least—is basically the opposite of what i want. second, and more importantly, unless you have one of those teeny tiny scales used by jewelers and drug dealers, your kitchen scale will not weigh out such tiny quantities with any accuracy. third, if you do it like this, you really have to plan what you're doing ahead of time, because there's a point after which no more dye will bind! the fibre will be like enough thank u that's it i'm good and that'll be it, so you lose some of your ability to decide that actually, you want more green.

you can probably guess, at this point, that i don't weigh the dye. once you've done a couple batches of fibre with a given brand of dye, you'll start to get the vibes for how much you should use. if you really want a guideline, for a hundred grams of fibre, start with a quarter teaspoon of a given colour. you can add more—either more of this colour or a different one—later, as desired.

put your dye in the empty bottle, and then fill the bottle partway with hot water. the amount of water doesn't really matter here, nor does the specific temperature of the water. i usually fill about 3/4 of the way, because that way there's plenty of room for this next step, which is: wipe the lip of the bottle, recap it tightly, and then shake it up real good. the dye powder is going to dissolve into the water, and you now have a bottle of dye!

if you're going for a gradient, you might want to mix up your second colour so you can add them at (basically) the same time for more even mixing. if you're not, or if you only have one mixing bottle, you can do them one at a time.

oh my god we're finally putting dye on the fibre

are you ready? it's time!!

you have basically infinite options for how to do this, and many of them will give you different effects. here are some ideas:

pour the dye all at one side of the pan. and if you don't add anything else, your fibre will fade from the colour of the dye to the natural colour of the fibre

pour two colours, one at either side of the pan. depending on how much dye you use (and remember, you can always add more), this will give you either chunks of colour surrounded by white, or a two-colour gradient

add all the dye to unheated water and mix it gently, then let the fibre soak for a few minutes longer before turning on the heat. this will give you a fairly even colour

pour randomly all over, and you'll either end up with a tonal yarn or a heathered one, depending on how much dye you're using

add the dye to the water under the dry fibre, which will sink in and take up more dye on the bottom of the fibre than the top

if your heat wasn't on before, it should be now, and you're going to let the dye hang out in the hot but not boiling water for a while. how long? well, one of the cool things about dyeing with these dyes is that they exhaust, which means that when the dye has been sucked up by the fibre, the surrounding water will be clear. how long this takes will depend on the specific dye, how much of it you used, how much mordant you used, etc. i try to check every fifteen minutes.

reminder: if you started with room temperature water, the dye's not going to start taking until the water heats up, so don't check it after fifteen minutes and freak out that nothing has happened. it is fully normal for it to take up to an hour for the dye to exhaust. don't turn up the temperature, just give it time.

yay it worked!

at this point, you have a pot of hot water with some beautifully coloured fibre in it! but maybe it's not beautiful enough. maybe you want...more colours.

that's cool as hell and you should go for it. we mentioned two-colour gradients up there, but what if you want something else?

the answer, probably obviously, is adding more dye.

first, a caveat: while you can successfully make multicoloured gradients like this, it's more difficult than you think, and if it gets messed up—all the colours bleed into each other, say—it turns into a muddy mess. my suggestion is to stick to two (or three at most!) colour gradients until you have a much better feel for what you're doing.

let's talk about ways you can add more colour. you have two options: big colour and little colour.

big colour is going to add a lot of colour—you're going to mix up the dye and pour it just like you did before, but paying more attention to places that don't have dye yet. sometimes it's the middle of a gradient, or the white splotches from random pouring, or the half of the fibre that wasn't submerged when you started. or maybe you dyed the whole thing yellow, and now you want to add a blue gradient over top. whatever!

if you don't want to freehand pour, consider buying a couple large syringes, or a bottle with a squeezy top. these are also fun because you can easily get more colour between the laid-out fibre, or even under it.

in the pictures at the start of this post, the red-and-gold top and both yarns were dyed by adding big colour.

little colour isn't going to add big patches, but is going to add speckling, tonal depth, or smaller patches of colour. all of the blue-base fibres and the yellow-and-blue yarn were dyed like this.

if you're still reading this closely, you might have caught that i just said both yarns were dyed with big colour, and that the yellow-and-blue yarn was also dyed with little colour. these are both true! the base colours of the yarn were done to make big colour, but if you look at the full-size image, there are also a bunch of speckles. you can do whatever you want! no one can stop you!

here are some ways to add little colour:

mix up some dye, but use less water. add drops of the dye, either directly onto the fibre (more dramatic!) or in the water (tonal!)

use a toothpick to grab a little bit of dye powder and drop it into the dye bath (similar to the previous one, but a little less predictable)

put on a damn facemask. take a clean toothbrush, paintbrush, or pipecleaner, and just barely touch it to the dye powder. gently flick or tap the brush to add speckles of that colour

find a salt shaker that you're never going to use for anything but this. put citric acid, salt (to make it distribute better), and dye powder into it, and shake it up (with the holes covered, please cover the holes) to make sure they're evenly distributed. gently shake this over the fibre to add speckles, but more of them, and clustered together

put a little dye in a spray bottle and gently mist the exposed fibre, kinda glazing it with colour

another thing is that if you like a natural coloured yarn with dyed speckles, you can do any of these techniques without doing big colour first. the only thing to note when doing this is that you'll want to be very sure to spread out the fibre well, and maybe to consider dyeing one side, then very very carefully flipping it over and getting the other side.

ok, now what?

let's say that you've added all the colours that you want, and you've let your bath simmer long enough that the water is clear, or nearly clear. (if it's not, check troubleshooting, below.)

put the lid on your pan and walk away. if you don't have a lid, just walk away, but it's less dramatic.

the super frustrating part here is that the safest thing to do is wait until the water and fibre is fully cooled before you do anything else.

have i ignored this? yes

has it ever gone horribly wrong? not horribly wrong, but it's definitely caused me to lose an inch or two of roving on occasion

is it way more stressful if you don't wait? absolutely yes

honestly maybe just go to bed and deal with your fibre in the morning

so now let's say that it's morning and you slept long enough that your water and fibre are both room temperature, which often actually feels quite cool on your hands.

you have to drain your fibre. there are two ways to do this:

lift the fibre out of the water. this has the upside of not risking dumping your beautiful fibre into your sink, and not needing to maneuver a full pot of water, both of which are admirable. the downside is that wet fibre is fragile, and you'll want to be careful to support it.

dump the water out of the pan. this has the upside of minimising how much handling you're doing of the fibre, as well as (in my opinion) making rinsing easier. the downside is attempting to keep the fibre into the pot while you dump the water into the sink, and also needing to carry around a full pot of water.

secret third option: dump the fibre (and the water) into a strainer. upside: very easy, and you can keep the fibre in the strainer while you rinse, minimising both how much it needs to be handled and the weight on the fibre. downside: i never remember that this is an option until i'm already elbows-deep in acidulated water, discovering every tiny cuticle tear.

you're going to fill your dyepot with water again so that you can rinse the fibre. you want to minimise thermal shock, so keep the water temperature as close to the temperature of the fibre as you can, and don't run the water directly onto the fibre. i like to pull all the fibre to one side of the pan, and fill the pan on the other side.

side note: if you, smart person, remembered that you can use a colander, simply fill a pot with water, put the colander in the pot, and gently agitate the colander.

if you, person who is deeply relatable, did not remember you can use a colander and now have a pot with clean water and fibre, gently move your fibre in the water to encourage any excess dye and also citric acid to get out of there.

drain your fibre again, and this time, you're going to squeeze it dry. you're still trying to minimise agitation, so this isn't a 'wring it out' situation, it's a 'gently squish it between your hands and/or a hand and the side of the pot' situation.

hang your fibre to dry. remember what i was saying earlier about it being fragile? let me suggest, here, that you do not simply drape the entire length over a single hanger or something and hope for the best. if you literally have a single hanger, at least drape it back and forth a bit, but better if you can use more than one hanger, or a clothes drying rack, or that weird metal wine rack thing that came with your fridge that you've never used, or whatever.

important reminder: drip-drying things will make your floor wet! if you live somewhere very clear with no major roads or pollen nearby, you can probably dry things outside, but if you don't, you'll probably want to position the drying rack in a bath, shower, laundry area, or otherwise over something that will catch and/or absorb the water.

how long it takes for the fibre to dry is another unknowable variable. if it's warm and dry where you are, it might literally be overnight. if it's damp and cool, it can take days. the batch i posted a couple days ago literally took almost a full week to dry. spread it out as best you can, gently squeeze out the water you can, and otherwise you just have to wait.

you're done!

when it's dry, that's it, you're done! you might find that you need to pick off some little lint balls or a bit of compacted or slightly felted fibre from the tips, but other than that, you should be good to go.

like most fibre stuff, this is best maintained by handwashing in cool water. you may see a little bit of dye or colour loss the first time you wash it, which is pretty normal and nothing to worry about.

congratulations! you made it to the end of this incredibly long post, and if you followed along, you've just dyed some fibre!

troubleshooting

this isn't dyed enough! i want more colours!

add more dye! i'm not the boss of you.

this is true even after the fibre is all done and dryed. there's nothing that says you can't dye it again—you can, and i have.

some fibre seems to require more dye than others. silk, for example, dyes beautifully with acid dyes, but also needs way more dye than i expect it to.

remember that if you're dyeing something that's a wool/cotton blend, for example, the cotton isn't going to dye. the only exception is nylon, which will kinda dye, but not as dramatically. this guide will not work for plant fibres.

this is too dyed! i want fewer colours!

please refer back to the number one most important thing about dyeing, which—as you know—is: you can always add more colour, but you cannot take it away.

pull out some more fibre and try again. this has a learning curve, just like any other fibre craft.

these colours don't look like i expected!

this can be about a lot of things.

colour guides, especially if you're looking at them online, aren't always very accurate.

colour guides tend to assume that you're dyeing a single colour at the suggested dye percentage of weight, and using less than that will give paler colours.

dyes, especially if you're mixing brands, can interact with each other and behave in ways you didn't expect.

dyes can also break, which is when they split into their component colour molecules. this happens commonly with blacks and browns, food colouring, and anything that dharma trading has marked as 'advanced'. some people find this very desirable and seek it out; some people are very frustrated by it.

the ph of your water can sometimes affect your dye. i've been lucky enough that i've only lived places with lead problems, not weird ph stuff, so i haven't investigated this closely, but if you're consistently not getting the results you expect, even going for a single, solid-colour dye, look at the ph.

my dye water's not clear!

if you used a quarter teaspoon of dye and a hundred grams of fibre, and it's been, say, 45 minutes of actually hot water and your water still isn't clear, you probably didn't use enough mordant, and you should add some more citric acid or vinegar to encourage the dye to get in there and do its thing.

if you used you used more like a teaspoon of dye, or if the citric acid doesn't change anything, you used too much dye for your fibre. you can either shrug and pour it down the drain, or you can add some more fibre and dye that, too.

my rinse water's not clear!

you probably used too much dye. it's ok—just keep rinsing it, gently, until it's more or less clear.

some colours just like to run—you know how every once in a while you get a yarn and it just bleeds a little bit every time you wash it? sometimes it's just like that. i wouldn't worry about it too much.

my fibre has felty/clumpy bits!

a little bit of this is normal, especially at the ends of a fibre that felts easily (this means you, merino!)

pick off the bits that you don't like—this is generally fairly easy, and involves very minimal fibre loss. i don't bother doing it until i sit down to spin, and then just pull off bits as i come to them.

if there's a lot of felty/clumpy bits, more than you can reasonably pick out, you agitated the fibre too much. there's not much for this other than trying to card it out, which may or may not work.

sometimes this happens because your stove got weirdly aggressive and boiled your fibre. especially for wool that's prone to felting, the bubbling and jostling can be enough to encourage more clinginess than you'd like.

i want my dyeing to be reproducible!

this is kinda doable. it's a handmade thing, so it's always going to have some natural variance, but you can do it.

buy a jeweler's scale that measures in fractions of a gram.

start measuring your dye and acid, and take detailed notes about what you do.

follow those notes in the future, and you'll be probably 90% of the way there.

i want to dye with natural dyes!

i fully support this and have played around with it a little bit myself, but absolutely do not know enough about it to advise you.

the internet is very large and full of many people who are much smarter than i am, and i feel confident that at least one of them is desperate to tell you all about how to do natural dyeing.

i am, at this point, not that person.

i want to dye plant fibres!

i am begging you to find another guide, because this one will not work.

you didn't answer my question!

that's what my inbox is for

i have to reiterate that i'm just a person with real specific interests who started dyeing things because i couldn't find or afford the kinds of colourways that i wanted.

i am not a professional

i will do my best to answer questions, but sometimes the answer is 'just fuck around until you find out'

plant fi—

shhhhh

the end

thank you for reading this incredibly long post! i might make another one in the near future, either so i can show pictures or because i took out an entire section about how to choose colours and pick a colour scheme and work with colours, and i kinda want to talk more about that, but this is no joke almost six thousand words long, so i thought, you know. maybe not tonight.

anyhow, i hope that this was useful to someone! thank you for letting me talk about one of my very favourite things.

308 notes · View notes

pedge-stuff · 10 months

Note

Fic request: Pedro or reader has an intense panic attack in a public. Reader has to talk him through it and calm him down enough so they can leave the event. Holding each other in bed.

clean up, aisle 4 (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked," per usual.

thanks, as always, for everything.

summary: sometimes, you deal with the downsides.

——————————————————————————

"I feel like we tried this and didn't like it."

Pedro inspects the back label on the box— some kinda chickpea flour protein pasta 'alternative' that came less-than-highly recommended by his personal trainer— before re-shelving it alongside the other sad, fake noodles.

The grocery store has become a little bit of a minefield. Gladiator 2 prep was exciting, until the rigorous hours in the gym started requiring a specialized diet. He can't eat carbs, you don't eat meat, both of you love frozen pizza, and neither of you really want to participate in the whole classic disordered Hollywood eating thing. And yet, here you are.

Home-cooked meals have consisted mostly of roasted vegetables and dry, baked proteins. You're attempting to eat "clean" in solidarity with him, but...

"We don't need pasta," Pedro laments, turning away from the shelving altogether. "What's left?"

You pull the notes-app list back up. "Whatever kind of frozen fruit you want for smoothies, plus pitted dates. I'd love those wasabi almonds from last month, but I dunno if they have them again. We could get Skinny Pop, if you want it?"

A grimace. "That's fine."

"We don't have to get it, Pedge."

"It's fine, really. We need something for the movie tonight, right?"

His shoulders slump as he pushes the cart onwards. The back right wheel is making a little squeaking sound, sharp and grating on your last damn nerve. This grocery store feels more and more like a minefield with every aisle turn. The balance between supporting Pedro in his training, and wanting him to just say fuck it and be happy, feels entirely precarious.

"Almonds," Pedro mutters, veering right, around an obnoxiously large Goldfish display and the toddler sobbing loudly in front of it. An obstacle course of bright lights and loud sounds. "Almonds, almonds—"

"Ohmygod, Pedro Pascal."

Immediately, no. Two college-aged, tri delta-looking, fresh-from-the-salon type girls, grinning like they'd won the damn lottery. Fans— no one he actually knows says "Pay-drow."

The wheel squeaks again as they grind to a forceful halt; the girls are standing directly in the path of the cart.

"Should we ask for a picture?" They speak at full volume, to each other, as if he isn't standing right in front of them.

"We have to, for the gram. Oh my god."

"Maybe Deuxmoi will pick it up."

Pedro grimaces as they start rummaging for their phones. He's always generous with his time— sometimes a little too generous, so concerned with hurting peoples' feelings that he'll take selfies through the drive-thru window, or walking the dogs. Even one memorable time, pumping gas.

Only at night, lights off, tucked away, does he ever confess his frustrations. As though he should not want privacy; as though being grateful was more important than being safe. Guilt eats him in ways that you alone cannot heal. All you can do is hold him a little tighter.

A phone is thrust towards you. "Can you take a picture of us?"

Before either of you can react, one girl has her arm over Pedro's shoulder. The other, on his waist. He's never been one to shy away from affection— had been pushing the cart single-handedly, with the other on the small of your back, since the dairy section— but that intimacy does not extend to strangers.

They are laughing, chattering— something about Game of Thrones. You distinctly make out so sexy and slay.

But you hardly register them, instead frowning at your partner as you snap a couple pics without looking. He is frozen, eyes fixed somewhere past you, though he offers a wan smile for the camera. Answers a question you can't hear with a half-hearted laugh, before gesturing to the next aisle. A polite gesture, too far from the fuck off on the tip of your tongue.

Pedro attempts to move away, but the girl's arm is still snaked around his waist. Trapped. She reaches to wrap the other around, attempting to encircle him in a teddy bear-style hug. This, here, is the limit.

With a rough, jerky motion, he forces her off of him. "Sorry, sorry," he says quickly. "We need to go."

"But—"

If you push the cart, and it happens to roll over a perfectly manicured foot, well...

Pedro is a few paces ahead of you, stalking towards the almonds like they owe him a grave debt. His fists clench and unclench at his side.

Not good.

His tells for a panic attack are well-catalogued in your brain. You push the cart to one side, mouthing an apology to the man you almost plow down, before approaching Pedro with caution. His chest heaves as he frowns at the Blue Diamond display, breaths noticeably shallow.

"Pedro." Fighting muscle memory, you don't touch him. Don't want to startle him, though concern burns a hole in your own diaphragm.

"Mm."

"Baby, look at me."

His eyes squeeze shut, instead. "I'm good. I'm good."

"Why don't you go to the car, I'll finish up quick."

"I'm good," he insists, voice cracking.

"It's OK if you're not good."

A hitch in his breath, and Pedro's face crumbles. "Just startled me, is all," he whispers, brown eyes pooling remorsefully. "So stupid. Can't even make it through the fucking supermarket to get my fucking fruits and veggies."

You reach for his hand, lithe fingers prying his clench fist apart. Soothe the red-crescent divots in his palm with the pad of your thumb. Wait for him to continue, as if you're not both standing in the middle of the nuts-candy-and-coffee section.

"Everything is just a lot right now," Pedro says, dragging in a shaky but deeper inhale. His other hand swipes across his cheek.

Mentally, you catalogue how difficult it would be to return the items in your cart; how fast you could retrace your steps, and rush the man home.

You bring his palm to your lips, instead. "Go take a smoke," you suggest. "And then we can get the fuck outta here."

"Someone's gonna post it online again. Everyone's talking about how I reek of cigarettes."

"You have reeked of cigarettes as long as I've known you. They are late to this." Tugging playfully on the hand you still hold, you wait for him to crack the barest, thinest of smiles.

"You still love me, though."

"Enough to fight off anyone else who tries to dry-hump you in this Whole Foods."

Slowly, you both retreat to the abandoned cart. "Can we—" Pedro stops himself, unsure of how to ask.

"Whatever it is, babe, yes."

He pushes forward. "What if I was asking if we could get naked right now and run through the supermarket parking lot so people would think we were crazy and leave us alone forever?"

"Then I'd start untying my shoes. It'd be hard to pull my jeans over 'em."

The wasabi almonds are, finally, pulled from the shelf. You proceed to the freezers. "That's not what I was gonna ask," he admits, grabbing a bag of chunked mango.

"Bummer."

"Can we just get some normal fucking popcorn? If one night's worth of fake butter is what does me in, someone else can be the Gladiator, I give up."

For him? Anything.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #din djarin x reader #din djarin #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the mandolorian

265 notes · View notes

cupcakeinat0r · 4 months

Text

A couple of yall asked for the booty routine so here u go, shawty <3

Ik this looks like a lot, but trust, bae, it’s important. I felt like if ima talk abt my routine, might as well talk a lil bit abt food too since both work as a team.

[First, let me say that I am by no means a professional. This is something I've learned and acquired through self-research, as well as having two siblings, one who is a bodybuilder and the other who is a personal trainer. Also, the gym is a safe n fun space for everyone:) Work out because you want to, not bc you think you need to look a certain way <3]

Here's my Split: I added my upper body days as well in case yall wanted to kno <3

Monday: Glutes + quads

Tuesday: Back + Biceps

Wednesday: Glutes + Hamstrings

Thursday: Chest + Tricep

Friday: Full Body

Saturday + Sunday: Active rest!!! (Could be running, walking, bicycling, etc., whatever is fun to do! My personal fav is the stair master for an hr or Running for 3 miles, but you do whatever you can. Listen to your body.)

In addition, I do cardio after each sesh on the weekdays. For me, that's running for like 2 miles or so, depends how I'm feeling, but you do whatever cardio you'd like! A good start could simply be inclined walking!

Also, pls pls pls remember rest days are VITALLL. If u want to grow that booty (which is something the couple of you specifically mentioned), those rest days are important bc this is the period when those muscles are actually repairing themselves from the workout, resulting in growth!!! A huge misconception is that “the muscles grow during the workout”… no. Ur actually tearin up those puppies, so that’s what rest days r for! Both rest + protein contribute to ur muscle repair + growth (I’ll talk abt protein intake later). Naturally, I like to rest Sat n Sun, but it could be any 2-3 days of the week. Sometimes, I be usin that Fri full-body sesh as a rest day too so liiiike... if u need to, please do (especially during periods uuuuugh).

As for specific Workouts, I'll list em here. These r for the booty ;)

Hip thrusts, booty + hamstrings

Romanian dead lift, booty + hammies

Goblet Squat, quad destroyer

Hip abductions, booty burner, omfg

Leg press, depends on footing. Higher on platform works hammies n booty, lower works quads.

Weighted Squats, the whole damn leg.

Body weight squats OR lunges (good for warm-ups)

Leg curl, hammies

Leg extension, quads

Bulgarian split squat, booty n whole leg

I do 4 sets of 12 <3

(ALMOST FORGOT, I TARGET FOR 5-6 DIFF EXERCISE FOR EACH WORKOUT)

Nutrition plays a huuuge part as well, but I'll only talk very lil abt it since ion know yall's specific needs<3

Generally, if u want growth, just take ur current weight and put that in grams, for example = 170 lbs. -> 170 g of protein each day. Now, taking in the amount of protein u need can be hard at first, so just for the beginning, just try to at least get close to it then work ur way up. Foods high in protein that I like are Greek Yogurt, Chicken, Lean Ground Beef, Salmon, and snackies such as protein bars (avocado is like the holy grail for a phat booty just sayin. It's not protein, but it's the healthiest source of fat there is!). As for other groups (fat n carbs) don’t be so strict, bae… just use your portions. No need to restrict urself from ANY food bc no food is “bad”. I can talk allllll day abt this one but ima just shut up for now lmao.

PHEW, honestly, don't mention the gym around me cuz I will not shut up. Ima gym rat at heart so like I could literally keep writing abt this but bc literally, like, 3 ppl asked for this, Ima just wrap up here <3

Hope this was a lil bit of help @gltzpzy @mybvalentine @icenbroo <33333333

P.s. would it be cringe if I said I sometimes use Miguel as motivation??? Like he’s watchin me or som??? Bye, I hate that I do that, I’m like actually mentally unwell bc of that stupid mass of pixels Sony created ☠️

43 notes · View notes

acti-veg · 10 months

Text

16 Plant-Based Protein Sources

Protein is often raised as a concern for people considering adopting a plant-based diet, and considering the fact that we've all been taught to associate protein primarily with red meat, this is not surprising.

It is estimated that most adults require 56 grams of protein per day, and you're probably hitting that number if you're not in a calorie deficit. If you're trying to lose weight and so are cutting calories then you may need to track your protein a little more closely, but 56 grams is pretty easy to hit without having to really think about it.

It gets a bit more difficult if you're very physically active, particularly if you're engaged in regular endurance training or are trying to build muscle. There is a great deal of disagreement about precisely how much protein is ideal if you're training intensely, but it is very achievable to hit even the upper end of protein requirement estimates using only plant-based foods. Listed below are particularly good options.

1) Lentils - Lentils are a cheap nutritional powerhouse, and provides about 17 grams of protein per cup. They're also very flexible, you can have them as your main protein source of a meal, use them to substitute mince in a pasta dish, make burgers out of them, or put them in a stir fry or with rice and veg with some seasonings. They are cheap and convenient if you buy them canned, since they're ready to eat, though I would recommend at least warming them up.

2) Chickpeas - Chickpeas are a popular vegan staple, and it's not hard to see why. At approximately 14.5 grams of protein per cup, they're nutrient dense and very flexible. Use them to make hummus or falafel, as the main protein source of a curry, on their own with rice or worked into a salad. You can also just air fry/grill them with some oil and spices for a convenient, crunchy snack.

3) Oats - A cup of dry oats is around 11 grams of protein by itself. Making it with a cup of oat milk brings that up to 14 grams, throw in a tablespoon of peanut butter and you're up to about 17.5 grams at breakfast, and all those ingredients are pretty cheap and very filling. You could add something like nuts or chia seeds as a topping to stretch that to well over 20 grams.

4) Nuts - Peanuts are 9.5 grams per 1/4 cup, almonds are 7g, pistachios 6g, cashews 5g, hazelnuts 5g, brazil nuts 4.75g, walnuts 4.5g and pine nuts are 4.5g. You can buy 1kg bags of mixed nuts for a little bit cheaper and keep them in a jar for a healthy snack. I find it better to buy a bag that doesn't have peanuts in then add the peanuts later, as mixes that include peanuts tend to be less for your money. Peanut butter is also a cost effective way to add protein to many snacks and meals.

5) Beans - Depending on the type, beans are anything from around 10-15 grams of protein per cup. Some are better than others, like kidney beans, but even your standard baked beans are high protein and good for you. Turn them into a chilli, have them on toast, on a jacket potato, turn them into a bean burger or make them the protein base of a salad or soup. Kidney , soy and edamame beans are particularly good options.

6) Seitan - When cooked, seitan closely resembles to look and feel of red meat. It is made of wheat gluten and has 25 grams of protein per 100 gram serving. It is not very widely available in supermarkets, but try your local Asian market, where it will usually be cheaper as well. It's a bit of a hassle, but you can also make your own at home, which is extremely cheap as it's just wheat gluten, yeast, plant milk, miso and spices.

7) Tofu/Tempeh - A staple in Asian cooking, don't be afraid to try this one. Think of it as doing all the same things chicken does in terms of recipes, it soaks up the flavour around it. It needs to be pressed before use, or you can avoid that by just draining the liquid and freezing it, then thawing over night when you want to use it. 100 grams of tofu (less than half a small block) contains 8 grams of protein. Some tofu, like Naked TooFoo, is pre-pressed for you.

8) Faux Meats - Faux meats are an easy way to add a protein base to your meal, and has the advantage of serving the same function on a plate as the foods you were used to before you went vegan. A Beyond burger, for example, has 19g of protien per patty, though you can get much cheaper options that have a similar nutritional profile. Pair that with a wholemeal bun and something like brown rice/quinoa and vegetables and you can create a very high protein meal.

9) Grains - All grains are good for protein, these include quinoa, spelt, brown/wild rice, teff, amaranth and sorghum. They can range anywhere between 5 and 8 grams per 100 grams, and you'll usually be serving them with some sort of protein source. They're also an excellent source of fibre and carbohydrates, which are also important for training and general health. Quinoa in particular provides all 22 essential amino acids.

10) Peas - Green peas are not mentioned much when it comes to high protein options, but a cup of cooked peas is a respectable 9 grams of protein, and it's worth mentioning here because they tend to be used more as a side than main, so can be paired with other high protein options. They're also very cheap, freeze well and are easy to prepare.

11) Seeds - Just a tablespoon of chia seeds is nearly 3 grams of protein, and the seeds are so small and tasteless that you don't actually notice them in anything you put them in, making them an easy way to add protein to just about any meal. They're pretty cheap to buy in large quantities, particularly good to replace eggs in baking, to add to bread flour, salads and oatmeal. Other high protein seeds include pumpkin, sunflower, linseed, hempseeds and buckwheat.

12) Bread - Bread may not immediately come to mind when you're thinking about protein, but wholegrain/rye/spelt breads can be very high in protein, anywhere from 3 all the way up to around 10 grams per slice, particularly for seeded loaves. If you really want to turn bread into a high protein food, invest in a bread maker or bake it yourself, that way you can add nuts, seeds and oats yourself to up the nutritional value. That's just the bread too, a hummus and falafel sandwich with a high protein bread can be very nutrionally dense.

13) Fruit and veg - Worth mentioning here, as they're something you'll need to consume to maintain a healthy diet anyway, and some options have moderate protein. The higher protein options include broccoli, spinach, asparagus, artichokes, potatoes, sweet potatoes and Brussels sprouts, which all contain 4–5 grams of protein per cooked cup. Likewise, blueberries, guava, bananas and nectarines contain about 2-4 grams of protein per cup, as well as many other vitamins important for training.

14) Nutritional Yeast - No vegan list is complete without mentioning it, it's a vegan staple for its nutty, cheesy flavour, as well as being an easy source of vitamin B12. It's a complete protein that has 8 grams of protein per 16 grams serving, making it an easy way to add more protein to things like pizza, pasta dishes or a jacket potato. Use it to make cheesy sauces, or just sprinkle it on anything you'd have previousy added parmesan cheese to.

15) Protein Bars - They tend to be on the expensive side, but there are a few plant-based options. I'd recommend Misfit bars if you can get them online, they're low sugar, 15g of protein per bar, and you can buy them in variety packs of 40 which works out cheaper. Trek also have protein flapjack bars, less protein (8-9g) but are much cheaper in packs of 3 and frequently available at a discount (as little at 85p for three in Heron here in the UK).

Most brands won’t be suitable as a daily option for many people given the price, but great for when you're need a protein boost on the go. You can also just make your own protein bars using nothing but oats, cinnamon, baking soda, a little maple/golden syrup and a scoop of plant-based protein powder.

16) Protein/Meal Powders- Even the cheaper powders are around 18g of protein per scoop, so a shake is an easy way to add more protein to your diet, or you can stir it into oatmeal to get most of your daily requirements over breakfast. Some meal replacement shakes, like Huel Black, are around 40 grams of protein per serving (2 scoops) even when made with just water, providing a cheap and easy way to have a high protein and nutritious meal without any prep or fuss. Add some peanut butter and plant milk to make them tastier and even higher in protein. (I don't accept sponsorship or commissions from any brand and I don't have any affiliate links. Any product recommendations are based solely on my own experience.)

#vegan #nutrition #protein #resources

95 notes · View notes

overwhelmed-overweight · 8 days

Text

Plant-Based Benefits and Tips!

A couple of lovely people asked for some elaboration on plant-based eating! I studied nutrition & dietetics in college before I dropped out so I'm not a professional in nutrition but I do have a broad understanding of the biochemistry behind what we eat.

This is kind of a long post, so continue under the cut!

Starting with the basics!

I aim for a more whole foods plant-based diet, which is essentially a low-fat diet that focuses on removing all animal products, limiting processed food, and minimizing oils.

Looking at micronutrients, both protein and carbs have about 4 calories per gram, but oil has 9 calories per gram. Low-fat diets are often easier to manage calories on, as you can fill up on a higher volume of protein and carbs (specifically fiber) to reach satiety, whereas processed/high-fat foods are higher in calories per serving, meaning you get less volume.

You DO need fat in your diet, but it's preferable to reach for nuts, seeds, avocados, etc. instead of oil, which is comparatively nutritionally void.

FIBER IS YOUR BESTIE. Fruits, vegetables, and whole grains are low in calories meaning you can eat more of them, reaching satiety faster than you would with something processed. Fiber makes your digestive system happy. Be sure to incorporate more plants into your diet gradually so your digestive system can adjust.

Let's talk about animal products...

They are inflammatory by nature. If it comes from an animal, particularly red meat and ESPECIALLY processed meat, it will cause stomach issues in most people.

Fun fact, we are biologically closer to herbivores than carnivores. Our digestive tracts are much longer and our stomachs are less acidic than a carnivore's, meaning we are designed to most efficiently digest plant matter. Carnivores, on the other hand, have short digestive tracts and significantly more acidic stomachs for breaking down flesh and bone. This is why many people experience gastrointestinal discomfort when consuming meat. This leads to bloating, gas, and constipation. We are omnivores because we CAN consume animal products for survival, but it is nowhere near optimal.

Dairy is highly inflammatory and is directly linked to hormonal cancers (breast, prostate, etc.) It is also high in saturated fat, which is inflammatory. When we are born, we have the "gene" necessary to process breastmilk, but for many people, as we age, this "gene" gets switched off. Past infancy, we don't need milk (or other dairy products) because we can get our nutrients from other food sources. Black and Asian individuals have the highest rates of lactose intolerance. Not to mention, dairy is full of foreign bacteria, especially from factory farms, which causes an immune response in the body, leading to further inflammation.

Eggs are saturated fat and cholesterol bombs. They're high in protein, sure, but you can get protein and a wide variety of other nutrients from things like tofu.

To summarize, animal products are high in fat, high in cholesterol, high in calories, and cause inflammation, bloating, gas, and of course, constipation. Eating whole foods like vegetables, fruits, whole grains, beans/legumes, tofu, nuts, and seeds will boost your fiber intake, fill you with antioxidants, foster healthy gut bacteria, and reduce gastrointestinal issues.

Make sure you add more plants to your diet GRADUALLY. If you immediately go full force into eating plant-based, your stomach will experience distress due to the sudden increase in fiber, creating gas and bloating. But this will subside, and you'll feel better overall!

I highly recommend listening to seminars on YouTube by Dr. Neal Barnard, Dr. Michael Greger, Dr. Will Bulsiewicz, and Linda Davis RD to learn more in depth about what I've talked about.

Extra tips:

An air fryer is going to change your life when it comes to cooking without oil and making stuff taste good and have a better texture! I use mine multiple times a day.

TOFU!!! I'm a soy addicts, and tofu is my favorite source of protein. There's so many ways to prepare it, too!

Berries are so nutrient dense and delicious-- nature's candy!

There's honestly nothing wrong with protein powder even though it's processed. Just be sure to opt for vegan protein powder so you aren't loading your body with whey.

Stevia is a godlike sweetener, imo.

Eat a wide variety of different plants to diversify your gut microbiome and to get a variety of vitamins and minerals!

Take care of yourselves :') 💚🌿 I may add to this post as more things pop in my head!

When I tell you it's so goddamn easy to do dishes when you don't cook with oil 😭

Don't drink alcohol... this is the most hypocritical thing I can say lmao but it will wreak havoc on your gut microbiome

#th1nsp1ration #th1n$pø #overweight diaries #tw ed but not sheeran #⭐️ve #starv1ng #⭐️rving

24 notes · View notes

malebodyexhibit · 1 year

Text

High Maintenance (a Next Door Boy tale)

I’m maintenance unit ___ with the asset number ___. I’m writing this to catalogue my thoughts as I do my duties for the Next Door Boy agency. Particularly for this client whose name will not be disclosed. The routine and maintenance set up by the client practically has me logging each moment of the day.

I took a bite of the grapes, savoring the burst of juice in my mouth. This was a rare treat. With a body like this, it was a numbers game. Whoever says jocks or models aren’t bright has never seen their fitness plan. 151 grams of grapes is roughly 104 kcal, 27g carbs, and 1g of protein. With this body at its current weight and activity level, I need more protein than carbs, but I decided to splurge my daily carb limit on something as simple as grapes.

“Hey, no eating! Get back for the photoshoot,” the photographer called. I swallowed whatever grapes were in my mouth and walked back to the spot I had to pose. It’s been over an hour and I was getting bored. The photographer and his assistants spent a few minutes fussing over how low my pants should sag and how much ass should hang out. “They’re looking a bit pale,” he said, then smacked my ass. “Don’t worry about it. The guy usually lets me do much more.” The photographer smiled and lingered his hand on my ass.

My new body reacted to his touch and I felt my breath hitch, but I kept my cool. After another hour of photos, I was finally able to leave. The notes left behind by the client mentioned the photographer was a total sleaze, but he was good at his job so just let him have his fun.

This might be a dream job for some, but for me, it was just another job. I was hired after a recruiter pulled me from a temp agency. I had great reviews for consistency, reliability, and overall fitness. I wasn’t like this body.

As you can see, he’s toned beyond heck. A body forged in the kitchen and toned in the gym.

But I kept myself healthy, and the NDB agency saw value in that. You see, when a client rents a body--I mean ‘talent’--the ‘mind’ of the talent needs to go somewhere. Sometimes it’s the client’s body, but it’s usually put in a temporary body, which is me. My body was the temporary body that the talent used. And since all talent tended to be attractive, my relatively attractive body made it easier to be out of their own bodies.

I stripped off my clothes and tossed them in the hamper. I had to get ready for the family visit. A part of the client’s routine was an afternoon visit by his family. They usually brought him food. I had to pretend to eat it, but secretly toss it and make something from the recipes left for me. The client came from immigrant parents and as an Asian-American, he seemed to struggle with maintaining his lifestyle and his family ties. I mentioned the numbers game of food. The exotic meals tended to be high fat and high carbs. That was a big no-no.

“Son, you’re getting skinny!” His mother would coo. “Here, eat some of this. Why don’t you get married already?! You’re getting old and need someone to take care of you. What will happen if something happens to me?”

His parents didn’t know he was gay, and I had to pretend I was straight. Well, I was straight, but, you know, with how this body possession happens, you change what you like.

Tomorrow I had another photoshoot, but this time while I was at the gym. I would pump iron and get nice and sweaty (with help of assistants spraying me down with mist) then get photos taken. The photographer was getting more handsy with this body. It doesn’t help that I was told not relieve myself while possessing this body. I couldn’t cum or have sex. Which usually wouldn’t perturb me too much, but my new body is hyper sexual. I just feel constantly aroused.

I laid back on the bed. Now stripped of my clothes, I just allowed myself to get erect. Taking a deep breath, I felt my powerful lungs rise with my sculpted pecs. Without looking, I could feel my abs tense and harden. I tried not looking down, but unsuccessfully, I saw my new girthy cock rising up like a flagpole. It was throbbing and I felt the ache of weeks without relief. I could turn on my side and thrust against the bedsheets slowly as if I was tenderly entering a lover. I could run my hand over a pillow and pretend to follow the curves of a soft male body. Instead I started to slowly thrust upward into the air. I curled my feet below my body and I thrusted higher and higher. Then faster and faster. I was started to feel sweat dripping from my body and I could feel myself edging closer and closer to bliss. But I stopped myself as my cock started to twitch and I moaned out with straining restraint.

I collapsed back on the bed. To keep this body perfect and up to the client’s standard, I ate only a handful of grapes and bland gym food. I couldn’t touch this rich Japanese cock or live a life without lying. Frustrated, I curled up and went to sleep.

The next day after a photoshoot at the gym, I was with the sleazy photographer for another session. He had me strip the body down to nothing and had me hold a wooden plaque above my cock. His assistants weren’t there which was unusual. But when he started to move me into a pose, he was very hands on. He adjusted and readjusted the plaque, making sure to stimulate and brush against it.

“I like you in this body,” he said. “You don’t have an attitude. The guy thought he was hot shit. Of course, he couldn’t get a hook up. He was always chasing after white cock. He really wanted the American dream boy, but of course the American dream boy didn’t want him. Could you blame them? This guy hated being in his own skin and being around us. You’re different because you just accept it.”

“I sorta have to accept it. It’s out of my hands and it’s my job,” I said, barely able to focus on the conversation. I was stiff and trembling. It wasn’t cold. On the contrary it was hot. I was dripping sweat. I began to breathe heavier but that seemed to make it worse, because I could now see my meaty pecs bouncing with each breath. I started to feel self conscious and tried to cover my abs with my arm, but the slight touch on my naked boy brought a groan to my lips.

“Yeah, I like you in there alright. Let me help you,” the photographer said. He moved his hands to my chest. I tried to stop him but stopped. The notes from the client did say to let him have his fun. He placed his palm on my pec and lightly brushed my nipple. I moaned and moved closer to him. The photographer brought his mouth to the other nipple and started to playfully bite it. The sensation was mind blowing. My body trembled and I thought for sure I’d cum, but I endured and he licked his way from my nipple to abs. He ran his hands over my stomach. My cock was dripping with precum and I couldn’t focus on anything except his touch. When his mouth took in my rod, I practically screamed. He managed only a few strokes before I erupted with pleasure.

I opened my eyes. I smiled for the first time in weeks. The relief after the build up of lies and stress. The high maintenance lifestyle of this guy finally unloaded.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile,” the photographer said. I thought he was speaking to man whose body I wore, briefly he thought I was him, but when it seemed he remembered, he said, “you look completely different.”

I wondered how this body’s life would be without the constant pressure to be something he wasn’t. If he finally came out to his family. If he settled for someone who loved him. If he wasn’t himself. I didn’t know how long I had in this body, and wondered what my next assignment would be.

#possession #male body possession #body possession #male body exhibit #male body swap #a next door boy tale #next door boy #straight to gay

313 notes · View notes

mungo-grubb · 2 months

Text

Vitality Inc. - Bryan & the Wonder Protein Shake Part II

***

The flight and limo ride took a while to reach the ranch, but Bryan’s excitement kept him eager to arrive at his destination. As Bryan arrived at Michael’s ranch with his duffel over his shoulder, he was met and welcomed by the house manager, Mr. Carson.

“Welcome to the ranch, Bryan.” Said Mr. Carson. Michael felt awful that he could not meet you personally when you arrived, but he sends his regards. “I am here to show you where you will be staying and provide a tour of the compound. Since you already submitted your signed NDA, we can move ahead with the tour.”

Instead of heading into the main house, Mr. Carson took Bryan to an electric cart and placed his duffle in the back. “Hop in, Bryan. We will first drop off your things at the Bunkhouse where you will be staying on the property, and then I will take you around.”

A bit confused but going with the flow, Bryan hopped into the passage side, and they started down the side trail. As they drove past the massive mansion and headed down a dirt road, Mr. Carson explained that he would stay at the bunkhouse. He will have it all to himself, and it is equipped with everything that he may need. The Bunk is fully loaded with food, refreshments, a gym, a video recording studio, and more. Our host, Mr. Michael, would like you to make yourself at home.

Per the agreement, the kitchen is fully stocked with Wonder Protein Shakes. Please try it, and practice making promotional videos with it. Mr. Michael will review the footage and provide feedback later in the week.

"Oh, you will not have cell service while on the ranch due to our privacy policy."

Bryan, a bit overwhelmed, just nodded while taking everything in.

As they arrived at the Bunk, Bryan was in shock at the size of the house. The two-story ranch-style house was larger than any bunkhouse he had ever seen. “This is a mansion, and it was all mine.” Said Bryan.

“Well as long as you are staying with us.” Replied Mr. Carson.

Bryan corrected himself with an “Oh yeah, right!”

“I am going to place your belongings upstairs in your room. Why don’t you head into the kitchen and help yourself to something to eat and drink?”

Mr. Carson disappeared up the stairs as Bryan headed down the hallway to the kitchen.

Mr. Carson was not lying, the kitchen was stocked with all of Bryan’s favorites, such as chips, snacks, and different types of cheese. In the fridge, were multiple shelves supplied with rows of the Power Protein Shake with a small note on one, “Enjoy! – Mr. M.”.

Bryan, keen on trying the product, grabbed one off the shelf and popped it open. “Bottoms Up!”

The Power Protein Shake tasted just like a chocolate milkshake. “This is unbelievable!” Scanning the nutrition label, Bryan was amazed to see 0 carbs and 50 grams of protein.

“Fuck, this cannot be real. It is too good.” Slamming the rest of the protein drink down his throat. “Bbbbuuuurrrpp!”

Bryan heard “Nice one” from behind him. Mr. Carson was standing there with a polite smile.

“Sorry,” said Bryan.

“No worries, lad, grab a few for the road with some cheese and crackers, and I will show you some more.”

The rest of the day, Mr. Carson drove Bryan around the compound and showed him the pool, the pastures, walking trails, the lake, and the barn before dropping him back off at the Bunkhouse.

“Settle in and get some sleep, Bryan.” Said Mr. Carson. “Breakfast will be provided, and then feel free to start your routine and recording.”

“What about Mr. Michael?” asked Bryan.

“Oh, he will sync up with you later this week. For the time being, he has provided some instructions on your kitchen counter. Good night.”

“Good night, Mr. Carson.”

Bryan headed to the kitchen to see what his instructions were from his generous host.

Welcome to my ranch,

I apologize that I could not meet you today in person, however, I look forward to meeting you later this week. In the meantime, according to our previous discussions and our contract, I’d like you to drink my shakes and record promotional material during your day-to-day activities (e.g., working out, hiking, swimming, or relaxing around the Bunk. I want to market this product as a healthy everyday protein drink for the active guy. Your brand is “Dairy Makes the Body,” I would love to see my protein shake make you huge.

Housekeeping and the kitchen will be restocked daily. If you need anything else, just ask Mr. Carson.

Mr. M.

Not able to sleep from the excitement, Bryan explored his new accommodations with a shake in one hand and a block of cheese in the other.

***

The next morning, Bryan awoke groggy with the sun. He was used to starting his chores on the farm around 4:30 AM, which often prevented him from sleeping in. While glancing over at the clock, reading 7:00 AM, he noticed the three open Power Protein shake containers and the cheese wrappers.

“Wow, I don’t remember having that many shakes, but I will hit the gym harder today to make up for last night.”

Bryan threw on some briefs and made his way down the stairs toward the kitchen. He planned to grab a couple of shakes and made his way into the gym, but as he turned the corner, he ran into a tall, fit, blonde man in an apron.

“Oh sorry,” said Bryan quickly trying to cover up his morning semi-chub outlined by his underwear.

“No worries, man. I’m Stephan, your personal chef and nutrition consultant. I would have thought Mr. Carson would have told you that breakfast would be provided.”

“Oh, yes, you’re right, he did. Sorry, I forgot.” Said Bryan frozen in the doorway.

“Come in, sit at the table. I was provided a list with all your favorites, and I have made a special plan to assist you in your workouts while here on the ranch.”

“What, really?!?” Bryan was again surprised by the good fortune of his situation.

“For your first day, I made you a cheesy four-egg omelet, buttered toast, and a protein shake. I will have your meals ready for you in the morning and the evening. For lunch, have a protein shake until full. We can adjust the plan, as we go along.”

“Heck yeah! I love that I don’t have to worry about meal prep.”

Stephan serves Bryan at the table and goes back to his prep station. Bryan stared, completely enamored with the Thor-like chef in front of him. Then Bryan took a bite and almost came instantly into his briefs. The omelet was so gooey and cheesy that it melted over his tongue. This was peak farm fresh!

Bryan daydreamed about his chef as he ate. Noticing the rather large stain of precum at the tip of his erection, he had to wait until Stephan left the kitchen before, he could escape up to his room to avoid being seen.

Safely back in his room, Bryan jumped back into bed and quickly got to work on his morning wood while thinking about Stephan. Stroking his average size shaft with one hand and rubbing his pecs and abs with the other. Bryan loved to feel his strength and muscles when he worked on his pole. His mind focused on what Stephan might be packing under that apron, when he erupted all over his thigh.

With his head cleared Bryan was ready to start the day (For real this time). He showered, cleaned up, and put on some running shorts, a black tank top, and his ball cap.

Still full of breakfast, Bryan made his way to the recording studio to start his video journaling.

Day 1

Even though he knows no one is going to see it other than Michael, Bryan started his video blogging to practice and get some material.

“Hey guys, Bryan here, I’ve been tapped to promote this amazing new protein shake by Vitality.” Taking a sip, ‘It’s sooo good! Umm, I am really excited to spend the next couple of weeks with you in the gym and achieve some epic gains!”

Bryan spent a couple of hours taking a handheld camera around the house. He showed the gym, the kitchen, and around the Bunkhouse.

For lunch, he grabbed a few shakes and went for a walk on the nature trails. When he returned, he was finally ready to hit the gym.

"I believe it is an arms and abs day". Having the gym all to himself, Bryan cranked up some music and began to pump.

After about two hours working up a good sweat, Bryan felt accomplished and hungry. He cleaned up and headed back to the kitchen (Secretly hoping that Stephan was there).

“Hey there big guy,” said Stephan. “Good workout?”

“Oh, hey – yeah! Arms and abs today.” Replied Bryan, flexing a bit to impress Stephan.

“Looking solid.” Grab a shake and have a seat. Dinner should be ready shortly.

Bryan and Stephan chatted away, getting to know each other while Stephan served up dinner.

“Extra-cheesy rice, broccoli, and grilled chicken.”

Bryan inhaled the plate and asked, “This is fantastic! Is there more?”

Of course, while bringing the pan over to the table. “I am glad you like it. Help yourself.”

As Stephan cleaned up the kitchen, Bryan ate until he was stuffed.

“All right big man, get some sleep, and I will see you again for breakfast.”

A little sad that Stephan was leaving, Bryan relaxed on the couch, digesting his meal, until he drifted off to sleep.

Check out the full 5 part story:

20 notes · View notes

chonk-monster · 10 months

Note

What do you eat in a day

A fair amount! Here’s what a typical day of eating is like:

Breakfast: I typically do a a fruit smoothie to get most of my fruit/vegetable intake

Snack 1: shake

Lunch: most of the time it’s a pasta dish of some kind to help hold me over till gym time

Snack 2: yogurt, cheese, hummus, etc.

Dinner: most of the time it’s something stir-fry or fried rice related—this week I’m doin beef bulgogi over fried rice

Dinner 2: I typically just wrap the night up with a serious mass shake. Typically equal parts milk, mint ice cream and whatever meal replacement powder I have on hand haha

In total, I average around 4K calories a day with about 160-180 grams of protein a day

#ask

58 notes · View notes

dystopicjumpsuit · 4 months

Note

This might be a weird ask, so please disregard if you’re not interested in answering it.

I think you mentioned once that you like to cook, and a lot of your fics have mentions of food (which I love btw). So I was wondering: Do you have specific meals/recipes that make you think of certain clones? Or, do you have any headcanons as to Earth-based meals/foods specific clones would deem their favorite?

Not a weird ask at all! I do love to cook, and I'm always down to talk about food 💚

I will always think about fresh pasta with wild mushroom ragu when I think about Waxer thanks to "The Sixth Language." I have actually made that meal, and it's delicious. (I also tried to do the sexy cooking lesson with my partner, which was... Less successful 💀)

I personally headcanon that every clone has a massive sweet tooth thanks to their enhanced metabolisms and the fact that they didn't get sweets growing up. I also think they would pretty much all enjoy spicy food. This HC is for sure influenced by how spicy Mandalorian cuisine is supposed to be.

I think a lot of family-style meals would be really appealing to the clones, just because they would appreciate the sense of community. Any meal where a big group of people gathers around a table to eat and drink and laugh and talk and bond—I think that would be a dream come true for a lot of the clones. NB I'm not necessarily talking about literal biological family here; I mean it in the sense of the people you love and care about most—whomever that may include.

As far as specific foods:

I think Gregor would have a weakness for cheeseburgers (and apparently pineapple).

Dogma seems like a risotto man to me, for some reason (the technique would appeal to him, I think). He would probably love the precision of molecular gastronomy.

We know the Bad Batch loves sushi! I think seafood would be popular with a lot of the clones because they grew up on an oceanic world (though to be honest, I don't know whether their diets actually included seafood on Kamino, or whether it was just nutrient sludge).

I think Crosshair would love ramen—if he ever got a chance to actually take a bite of it.

Jesse seems like he would be very aware of his macros, and he'd be a surprisingly good cook. Mapo tofu would be his specialty. He would tell you exactly how many grams of protein was in it.

Tup... Vegetarian. Idk why, he just gives the vibe. But he'd be sneaky about it. He'd feed you the most amazing meal of your life, and you'd never even realize it was vegan.

Fireball would probably love poke bowls. Extra avocado, please!

Kix is addicted to junk food, and if anyone teases him about it, he'll be extra shaky next time he has to give them an injection. Jesse is constantly trying to get him to do better.

Rex has been a Sunday roast fan ever since he ate dinner with Cut and Suu.

Wolffe and Hunter seem like barbecue men—legit barbecue, not burgers and hot dogs. Like cochinita pibil, Texas-style brisket, barbacoa, Carolina whole hog. FIRE🔥

Cody secretly loves cheap pizza (think Little Caesar's), but if you asked him his favorite food, he'd probably say something like coq au vin. Don't get me wrong, he likes coq au vin too; it just doesn't scratch that particular itch.

The entire Coruscant Guard loves street food. Any kind of street food. If it comes from a food truck and can be eaten while walking, they're happy.

Damn, this got out of hand! I could go on until the world ended, but I have to stop somewhere. Thank you for the amazing question, Alli! It was so much fun to think about. And I'm so happy you enjoy the way I work food into my fics! One of my upcoming multichapter stories has an OC who is an aspiring cookbook author, and there is SO. MUCH. FOOD in that fic.

#clone wars headcanons #star wars headcanons #sw tcw #clone wars #Star wars #star wars food

29 notes · View notes

coldresolve · 7 months

Text

Moneymakers, pt.xxxviii // All Saints Are Sinners

Previous / AO3 / Wattpad / Masterlist / Next

A note is played as a sensor detects that the front door has been pushed open. Low tiks, faint against the loudspeaker muzak, as the soles of his shoes dislodge from sticky stains on the white tiled floor. The ambient hum of fluorescent lights, of the air conditioning, of the coolers scattered all around. Gas stations all have that hum.

He makes for the drink aisle with a laziness to his step, loose straps from his backpack tapping at his chest and arms, eyes unenthusiastically scanning through foggy glass doors. Most of the options strike him as entirely unappealing, while some – chocolate milk, protein shakes, yoghurt – make him nauseous to even consider.

Renee hasn’t been high for a full day. He noticed it on waking up, and it’s only getting worse. That lethargy, the grey filter that slides down across his vision. Drowsiness that expresses itself clearly in the way he moves, as if his body will only operate in slow-motion. Boredom exacerbated, but juxtaposed with revolt at the mere thought of actually doing something about it. The hollowness of all the things which normally feel so vivid. His mood, seeping down through the concrete and the dirt.

When Lazarus dropped him off by his car this morning, Renee talked him into a quick deal before they parted, just fifty grams. The look of concern on Lazarus’ face, the begrudging acceptance, sparked a shame in Renee that’s hard to just brush off. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t cracked open that bag yet - because punishing himself with cocaine withdrawals seems more appropriate. Is that irrational? Probably. But what isn’t?

Goosebumps break out across his arms when he opens the cooler and is rushed with a front of cold air. He picks out a couple different energy drinks. As he makes his way back through the store, he grabs a small container of nuts, as well as a handful of protein bars, haphazardly discarding his pile of items on the counter. He’s pretty sure he’s forgetting something, but his mind is hazy, and he can’t really bring himself to care.

The cashier, a girl who doesn’t look much older than twenty, gives him a nod in place of a proper greeting, and starts scanning his items. Renee watches her progress, rubbing his eyes, and then his gaze thoughtlessly drifts to the magazine rack next to the counter. Among celebrity gossip and headlines that fill half the front pages, he catches an image of Conrad – that vacation photo the media always uses, taken on some pedestrian road with palm trees in the background. A black person’s arm – Howard’s, presumably - is draped over his shoulders, but their face is cropped out of frame. Conrad looks at ease in that photo, at least more at ease than Renee has ever seen him in person. There’s still an awkwardness to his posture, he clearly doesn’t like having his picture taken; but his smile looks genuine. Next to the picture of Conrad is a stock photo of a man’s silhouette illuminated from above, face obscured in the shadows cast by a hoodie.

Renee swallows, looking away before he can read the actual headline. Behind him, the door chime goes again, and he hears someone walk up behind him. A deep breath, then he clears his throat at the cashier. “Uh. Give me four packs of Marlboro reds as well.”

The girl looks up. “Do you have an ID I could see for that?”

Renee blinks. Gives the cashier a look.

“We check everybody, sir.”

Renee lets out a dejected sort of breath, fighting the urge to roll his eyes, and fishes around in his pocket for his wallet. “Driver’s license alright?”

The girl gives him a patient smile. “Just something with your face on it.”

He holds the card out between two fingers, and can’t help but curse himself at the way his hand is shaking slightly. The girl doesn’t comment on it, though, eyes quickly scanning the card before she nods and turns to the shelves behind her.

As he pays credit and shovels his items into his backpack, Renee feels watched, in a way that’s more than a little intrusive, by the cashier, by the customer behind him, by the camera above the counter, by Conrad, grinning from a tabloid shelf. He shrugs the backpack on, pushing past the customer behind him and heads for the door before the cashier is even halfway through wishing him a good day.

Grey clouds swirl like a layer of cotton above the landscape, too light to threaten rain, but none the less suffocating. The wind blows across the concrete field surrounding the gas station, biting at his skin through the seams of his clothes. Would’ve ruffled his hair a week ago – now the lack makes him shudder more easily. He climbs into the Clio, discarding his backpack on the passenger seat, pulls a cigarette and lights it. He takes the first few drags in silence, listening to how the wind swirls around the car, feeling its miniscule tugs on the carrosserie.

It’s such a cliché, framing the bad guy as a menacing figure cloaked in shadows. Something about that image alone feels like a caricature that serves only the purpose of dehumanizing, othering. People always strip away the understandable parts of evil to avoid having to face it in themselves. They shut their eyes to swallow that pill.

A turn of the keys, and the Clio rustles itself awake. The sound of the old motor is starting to become more reminiscent of a tractor than a car. Cigarette burning between his fingers, Renee pulls out to the gas station’s exit ramp, back onto the highway. He loses himself in driving. Everything else becomes secondary to following his own flow, the mindless weaving in and out of lanes.

But he hasn’t been on the highway for more than five minutes before a loud beep from the dashboard makes him look down. The little light next to the gas indicator has turned on. The needle is deep in the red.

Renee lets out a groan, gritting his teeth tight, clutching the wheel a little harder. “Shit.” He fiddles with the different settings on the turn signal lever, barely keeping the car in the center of his lane as he tries to find the setting that lets him see how many miles he has left. How do you go to a gas station and then forget to get gas?

A couple minutes of fiddling with the lever pass, until he finally gives up. There are no gas stations until he reaches the summer home neighborhood, and the highway is separated by a fenced off median strip, so no U-turns, either. He’s just gonna have to cross his fingers and hope.

His teeth are gritted until he finally reaches his exit, somewhat relieved that if he does get stranded, at least it won’t be on the side of the highway. There’s a red light at the end of the exit ramp, and he cringes at having to rev up the car in first gear to avoid stalling on the incline.

The country road he turns onto is deserted, fields on either side all rows of plowed mud, interspersed with patches of skeletonized trees. Isolated homesteads placed a respectable distance from the road, and the occasional faded colors of a billboard advertising private insurance or heavy farming equipment.

He's a mile in when the dashboard beeps again, and soon after, the car starts to slow down. Renee curses, changing to a lower gear, which seems to work for all of ten seconds, but then it slows again, even as the pedal is pushed to its limit. The tractor-esque likeness of the sound seems to amplify as the engine struggles to keep up. Eventually, it coughs, lets out a spluttery death rattle, and then stalls completely.

Still rolling with the momentum, Renee stomps down the clutch and switches the ignition off and tries to restart it. Uncertain whirring, in a rhythm that makes the whole cabin vibrate, but it never takes. The car creeps to a halt on the side of the road. Renee tries again. And again. On his fourth try, the engine doesn’t even try to stir – nothing happens at all.

Renee pulls the handbrake and sits back, rubbing his face with both hands, pressing his fingers hard over the thin skin of his closed eyelids. Feels like letting out a scream, but all that comes out is a low groan. He sits like that for a full minute, breathing through his nose. Then he lets his hands dump into his lap, staring bleakly out the windshield.

In the distance, a row of trees parting two fields are being pushed sideways by a rough wind, the last stubborn leaves breaking off, dancing across the horizon.

Renee looks at his backpack, jaw working. Grabs it, finds leverage with both thumbs in a small hole by the zipper and forces it apart by pulling on the fabric. From one of the smaller rooms, he pulls out the bag of cocaine, from another, his wallet. Discards the backpack on the passenger side floor with a little more force than necessary. He fishes his phone out of his wallet and balances it flat on his thigh. Nudges a few clumps of powder onto the screen. It’s all automatic at this point, he doesn’t even have to think about what he’s doing. The clumps are broken with a credit card, and two lines are arranged side by side along the length of the phone screen. His hands are shaking as he rolls a five dollar bill into a straw.

He pauses. Feels like throwing up. Feels like strangling himself with the seatbelt. Feels like bashing someone’s skull in. Feels like...

Closing one nostril with his index finger, holding the bill carefully between thumb and middle finger, Renee lifts the phone up, leans down. It’s a familiar feeling, however gross it felt the first time he tried. Like sucking powdered sugar straight into your brain. It appears at the back of the throat, and then you have to swallow it, despite the bitter taste, like you swallow the clots of a heavy nosebleed. Renee leans back, sniffing hard as he rubs his nose, letting out each breath through his mouth. Leans down for the second line, which goes up just as easily, sniffs some more. His throat is already starting to tingle. He licks the remaining powder off the phone, drying the saliva in his jeans.

Slightly breathless, he slumps back against the seat, hand clutched around his phone. Hits the back of his head against the headrest a couple times, scowling at nothing. Stalling won’t do him any good. He grits his teeth as he unlocks the screen, filtering through contacts until he finds Davin’s number. Rests his elbow on the ledge under the side window, leaning his temple against the root of his hand, lifts the phone to his ear.

The low dial tone, dragging across the ground once, twice, before there’s a click, a muted shuffling. Renee bounces his heel against the floormat.

There’s a faint thud, like a door closing, before Davin speaks. “Yeah?”

“My car broke down,” Renee says. Winces, but keeps his voice even. “I ran out of gas, I mean. I just need a hand.”

There’s a brief silence, and then Davin lets out a sharp sort of sigh. “How do you expect me to…?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” Renee bites, “Figure something out. I mean it, man, I’m stuck in the middle of… piss-all nowhere.”

Davin lets out an exasperated breath. “I don’t have a car, Renee.”

“Then find one. I’m not walking four fuckin’ hours.”

Another silence, longer this time. A deep breath. “Alright. Send me your coordinates, then.”

Renee sniffs. “Shall do.”

A split second after he has ended the call, Renee tosses the phone onto the dashboard, leaning forward, running his hands over his head. Why’s it taking so long to kick in, anyway? Two lines usually get his heart beating in no time. He’s not that tolerant, is he?

Seeping through the dirt, like the roots of a tree clawing to get a proper hold of the earth, or the fluid that leaks out of a decomposing coffin. It strikes Renee as a natural law of sorts. Gravity, but not in the physical sense.

They see him like an alien, a stereotype. They attribute his actions to something inhuman and foreign, something unrecognizable. A nightmare, a monster. A hooded figure in the dark. Evil as something extraordinary.

It’s actually pissing him off, how delusional people choose to be. The mental gymnastics they have to employ to stay blind. While Conrad sees the good in all people, Renee sees the spiteful, the malicious, the selfishness everybody tries so damn hard to deny. He sees the egocentric note that carries every act of altruism, the spite and jealousy that accompanies every form of love. Ambition is a euphemism for greed, justice always stems from a sense of superiority. Nothing, absolutely nothing, is holy. Once you start digging past the surface, the only direction you can go is down.

Despite the lightness of the clouds, a few small specs of rain have scattered on the windshield. Renee lights another smoke, watching it slowly collect and bleed down the glass. Something inside him is returning, he can feel it. It’s been hell for a while, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Maybe Conrad got his claws into him after all. That naïveté played tricks, in its own subtle, insidious ways. Renee forgot himself in a moment of weakness, and he ended up sharing the delusion. But evil is universal to the point of banality. Despite Conrad’s insistence, there’s nothing extraordinary about what Renee has done, or about his drives. Renee only stands out for honesty.

Davin’s greed is blatant. As is Lazarus’ willful negligence, entirely unjustified despite his efforts to deal conscientiously. Even Conrad himself, so keen to keep up a façade of innocence, gets that hateful look in his eyes, and his attempts to humanize himself occasionally get marred by a vengeful, sadistic desire.

A gun or a knife, hm? Or something else…?

Gun.

Where? …Where would you shoot me?

Head.

That’s the thing: You have to own it, don’t you?

Renee chuckles lightly to himself. Leans back against the headrest, eyes closed. Maybe it’s the coke creeping in, but it feels like a veil has been lifted.

The man he was six months ago, before all of this, before he even met Davin, is still in there. Renee can feel him. That carefree, fuck-all attitude, the easy way he carried himself, the deep sense of independence, remorseless freedom. His head got clouded by the fog of uncertainty, but he can lift himself out of it easily enough. It’s all so straightforward.

You just have to own it.

💵

Thirty minutes pass. The peak of the high, Renee spends pacing for a hundred yards up and down the country road, wind chill biting at his face, but muted under the familiar sense of euphoria. Once it starts to dip, around the forty-five minute mark, he climbs back into his car and chases with another line, smaller this time, nothing crazy. Sits with his knee bumping against the steering wheel, hands kept warm in his pockets, just enjoying the sensations of being, for a while. The way his heart beats, the way the air feels in his lungs, the numbness of his throat, the back of his tongue. He feels as easy and light as he does resilient, self-assured. Exquisitely fucked up and powerful. He feels like himself.

He sees the car coming from a mile away. A small, dark dot on the horizon that slowly rides the waves of the landscape. A sedan. Renee recognizes the typical design of a Mercedes long before he can make out the logo on the front grill – something about pareidolia, the expressions that cars make. Mercedes always look vaguely pissed off. As it pulls up on the opposite side of the road, Renee can’t help but marvel a bit. No scratches or dents in the warm gray lacquer, shiny wheel rims, tinted windows in the back. The kind of car you can tell has leather seats before you even take a look inside.

Bracing his door against the impact of the wind, Renee steps out on the road in the same moment Davin does. The few strands of hair that aren’t caught in the bun on the back of Davin’s head are instead whipped about his face. The collar of his coat is turned up.

Renee lights a smoke, then points to the Mercedes with the cigarette. “I didn’t think you could hotwire cars that new.”

As Davin shuts the door, he looks at the car briefly. “You can’t,” he concedes. And he holds up his hand, wiggling a key between his fingers.

Renee frowns. “It’s yours?”

“It’s a rental. For now, at least. You reminded me why it might be a good idea to have a second car available.”

He walks toward the back of the car and pops the trunk open, pulls out a red gas canister and a funnel. Hands both to Renee, who, much to his own quiet dismay, has to throw the fresh cigarette away before he takes them.

As he fumbles with the gas cap on the Clio and sets up the funnel, Davin stands a few paces away, watching. Renee can’t help his stomach from churning at that feeling, as if every movement he makes is being noted, jotted down. The stench of gasoline fumes soon serve as a distraction, as he pours the clear, yellowish liquid down the funnel. “Listen, I, ah…” He clears his throat. “I had a bit of a mental breakdown yesterday. After I left, I mean.”

He glances up at Davin, who has only raised a brow in response.

“I don’t really know what happened, it’s just… been a crazy couple weeks, you know? I think it’s been building. But it’s all good, I’m fine now.”

Davin snorts, tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat. Looks into the distance for a moment, lips pursed. When he looks back at Renee, his expression is solemn. “I couldn’t have done this alone. So as much as I hate having to rely on other people, I have to rely on you. I have to be able to trust you.”

Renee grimaces. “You can,” he says. “You can, dude. I just freaked out a bit, but I’m back in business, I’m feeling it. I’ll do whatever.”

Davin nods slowly. Markedly doesn’t say anything.

For once, the ominous silence doesn’t really bother Renee, at least not to any greater extent. Although brief, he said his piece, so now it’s no longer on him.

The last few drops of gasoline are shaken off the canister, then the funnel. Renee screws the cap back in place, handing canister and funnel to Davin before he ducks into the passenger seat of the Clio, without shutting the door.

On the first turn of the key, the engine rustles awake.

Renee shoots a wide grin up at Davin. “We’re so back, baby.”

Previous / Masterlist / Next

#writing #moneymakers #renee #davin #clio

35 notes · View notes