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Most Recent Posts
I'll have a reply up tomorrow.
Maia:
Naturally when your cousin begins to choke on his lasagna the first thing you'd do is slap him on the back. Maia sighed in relief when Tony stopped choking and she shot a look at Ashley, "Let's eat first, get to know each other since Tony just met you today, and then after dinner and dessert you both can talk about modeling for him." She gestured to Cassie before sitting down once more.
Tony blinked and looked to George for an explanation, "She's been hormonal..l" he shrugged before eating his food. Maia took a few bites of her food and smiled. "So...how long have you known my cousin, Cassie?" she asked the other brunette curiously. Maia could see what Ashley was trying to pull, another woman had tried the same with herself and George but like in the story of the tortise and the hare, it is always the slow that wins the race.
Anthony:
His face colored red in embarrassment as he apologized for his cousin, only to get kicked under the table by the blonde woman. He was quietly eating as he listened to Maia and Cassie talk. For the time being he was off in his own little world. He would only have enough to pay one of them and he doubted that Ashley would even take his money seriously. He couldn't pay much so it would seem like mere pennies to the rich girl.
Of course he would ask for them both to show him a few poses, maybe. He needed to see what he was working with but...Anthony was hesitant about asking them to pose nude.
His only reservation with nude posing was the unintentional sexualization of his subjects.
George:
Looking at his girlfriend and then back to the two brunette women on the other end of the table, George wondered if it was some sort of woman thing to be hostile towards each other...well at least Maia seemed to like Cassie; George was beginning to ship Anthony and Cassie. They seemed like a good couple, both odest and very polite. Maia had shown him the gift that Cassie, a complete stranger, had given them for their unborn child.
"Het Tony." George said after wiping his mouth on a napkin, "Do you have any tattoos?"
The two men were getting along better than anyone had guessed. When Anthony shook his head no, George went wide eyed. "Scared of needles?" he teased before looking at the two women. "What about you ladies, do you have any tattoos?"
Anthony:
"How'd you meet him Maia?" The question had been eating Anthony all day.
She shrugged, "He gave me a tattoo." Maia gestured to her chest where a large piece sat of a heart, wings and other things although it was hidden under her shirt.
Naturally when your cousin begins to choke on his lasagna the first thing you'd do is slap him on the back. Maia sighed in relief when Tony stopped choking and she shot a look at Ashley, "Let's eat first, get to know each other since Tony just met you today, and then after dinner and dessert you both can talk about modeling for him." She gestured to Cassie before sitting down once more.
Tony blinked and looked to George for an explanation, "She's been hormonal..l" he shrugged before eating his food. Maia took a few bites of her food and smiled. "So...how long have you known my cousin, Cassie?" she asked the other brunette curiously. Maia could see what Ashley was trying to pull, another woman had tried the same with herself and George but like in the story of the tortise and the hare, it is always the slow that wins the race.
Anthony:
His face colored red in embarrassment as he apologized for his cousin, only to get kicked under the table by the blonde woman. He was quietly eating as he listened to Maia and Cassie talk. For the time being he was off in his own little world. He would only have enough to pay one of them and he doubted that Ashley would even take his money seriously. He couldn't pay much so it would seem like mere pennies to the rich girl.
Of course he would ask for them both to show him a few poses, maybe. He needed to see what he was working with but...Anthony was hesitant about asking them to pose nude.
His only reservation with nude posing was the unintentional sexualization of his subjects.
George:
Looking at his girlfriend and then back to the two brunette women on the other end of the table, George wondered if it was some sort of woman thing to be hostile towards each other...well at least Maia seemed to like Cassie; George was beginning to ship Anthony and Cassie. They seemed like a good couple, both odest and very polite. Maia had shown him the gift that Cassie, a complete stranger, had given them for their unborn child.
"Het Tony." George said after wiping his mouth on a napkin, "Do you have any tattoos?"
The two men were getting along better than anyone had guessed. When Anthony shook his head no, George went wide eyed. "Scared of needles?" he teased before looking at the two women. "What about you ladies, do you have any tattoos?"
Anthony:
"How'd you meet him Maia?" The question had been eating Anthony all day.
She shrugged, "He gave me a tattoo." Maia gestured to her chest where a large piece sat of a heart, wings and other things although it was hidden under her shirt.
I am on mountain standard time and right now it is 11:44 pm here...
Anthony:
Blushing when he seen Ashley enter the store, he gave her a small compliment, “You look pretty.” And then he proceeded to mentally kick himself. Pretty…really? Was he brain dead or something? “I’m fine doing—I mean doing fine and you?” Behind him he heard George chuckle. As they waited for Cassie, he put his hands in his pockets and looked around awkwardly. “You look beautiful,” He said to Cassie once she changed, “Don’t worry about it, we better get going before Maia decides to eat without us.” He said.
George was quietly listening to Anthony try to talk to Cassie, it was a tad bit funny but he thought that it was brave of Anthony to make the first move. “Hey Tony…uh…we got you a little present for after dinner,” George told him.
Anthony was curious about the gift but part of him was suspicious about it too. In her younger years Maia loved to scare the shit out of him and he didn’t doubt that she still would. “Thanks but you really—“
George waved a hand, “No. It’s a gift. You don’t apologize for gifts.”
Anthony blushed slightly and looked down. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his black and gray striped t-shirt as a distraction as they neared the apartment complex that he lived in. George held the door open for everyone and Tony pressed the elevator button. As they climbed the different stories to the fourth, the floor he lived on, Tony thought he was going to vomit. George smiled and casually began a small conversation with the two girls, “So…are you both locals here?” Tony was grateful for the other man being there since it meant that he didn’t have to talk and possibly make a fool of himself.
Maia:
Once the store bought garlic cheesy bread was done cooking she put it on a small serving platter and put it on the table along with the lasagna. Tony would be surprised with his apartment. It wasn’t often that Maia was able to cook for people or have a tiny dinner party and Tony’s apartment was small enough to have a quiet dinner party but big enough so no one was squished together.
The door opened and Maia greeted Tony, the girls and George. She kissed George on the cheek before going to change her shirt in the bathroom. She ordered Tony and George to clean up before dinner as well. Maia changed into a short sleeved light blue striped shirt that had a cartoon image of a baby opening one of the stripes. She hurried back out to the living room as George went to change into a black t-shirt and comb his hair. Tony had been tossed a white button up shirt to wear. He combed his messy hair into a presentable style before joining everyone else out in the living room.
“Dinner’s ready,” Maia said before they all sat around the small dining room. On hung on the wall behind Tony was a large framed drawing of a yellow flower.
“Looks good,” Tony remarked before serving himself.
“Thanks. I hope everyone likes it,” Maia took a few slices of bread for herself before getting some lasagna.
Tony wondered just how long she had been cooking…he didn’t keep track as he had been talking to George most of the time since Maia had banned them both from the kitchen.
Blushing when he seen Ashley enter the store, he gave her a small compliment, “You look pretty.” And then he proceeded to mentally kick himself. Pretty…really? Was he brain dead or something? “I’m fine doing—I mean doing fine and you?” Behind him he heard George chuckle. As they waited for Cassie, he put his hands in his pockets and looked around awkwardly. “You look beautiful,” He said to Cassie once she changed, “Don’t worry about it, we better get going before Maia decides to eat without us.” He said.
George was quietly listening to Anthony try to talk to Cassie, it was a tad bit funny but he thought that it was brave of Anthony to make the first move. “Hey Tony…uh…we got you a little present for after dinner,” George told him.
Anthony was curious about the gift but part of him was suspicious about it too. In her younger years Maia loved to scare the shit out of him and he didn’t doubt that she still would. “Thanks but you really—“
George waved a hand, “No. It’s a gift. You don’t apologize for gifts.”
Anthony blushed slightly and looked down. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his black and gray striped t-shirt as a distraction as they neared the apartment complex that he lived in. George held the door open for everyone and Tony pressed the elevator button. As they climbed the different stories to the fourth, the floor he lived on, Tony thought he was going to vomit. George smiled and casually began a small conversation with the two girls, “So…are you both locals here?” Tony was grateful for the other man being there since it meant that he didn’t have to talk and possibly make a fool of himself.
Maia:
Once the store bought garlic cheesy bread was done cooking she put it on a small serving platter and put it on the table along with the lasagna. Tony would be surprised with his apartment. It wasn’t often that Maia was able to cook for people or have a tiny dinner party and Tony’s apartment was small enough to have a quiet dinner party but big enough so no one was squished together.
The door opened and Maia greeted Tony, the girls and George. She kissed George on the cheek before going to change her shirt in the bathroom. She ordered Tony and George to clean up before dinner as well. Maia changed into a short sleeved light blue striped shirt that had a cartoon image of a baby opening one of the stripes. She hurried back out to the living room as George went to change into a black t-shirt and comb his hair. Tony had been tossed a white button up shirt to wear. He combed his messy hair into a presentable style before joining everyone else out in the living room.
“Dinner’s ready,” Maia said before they all sat around the small dining room. On hung on the wall behind Tony was a large framed drawing of a yellow flower.
“Looks good,” Tony remarked before serving himself.
“Thanks. I hope everyone likes it,” Maia took a few slices of bread for herself before getting some lasagna.
Tony wondered just how long she had been cooking…he didn’t keep track as he had been talking to George most of the time since Maia had banned them both from the kitchen.
The black haired woman frowned at the mention of her sketchbook almost being taken away. If Grace had not become a psychologist she would have become an artist. The woman loved art and the way that you could express your emotions and mental states when words would fail. She jotted down a few notes about Emma so far, including the bit about her sketchbook. Eventually Grace would re-write all of the files she was given. They needed an update anyways; it seemed that the old doctor was very dry and bland when it came to his patients’ files. All of their medical history was there as were the notes about what he thought was important: their illness. Never once was progress noted, pill dosages showed peaks of higher and lower dosages but nothing beyond that.
“I have art supplies in the corner if you ever want to draw,” she said with a small smile. “All of the drawings I have up on my walls here belong to people I’ve worked with.” She pointed out a few drawings and mentioned to Emma that the people who drew them suffered from many similar conditions that she did.
“He shouldn’t have said that it was harmful, art is very helpful.”
After the death of her parents Grace filled an entire sketchbook within a week. Of course they were simple studies of her sister as she lay unmoving in the hospital bed but there were studies and drawings of the flowers that people had taken Abigail and other things. It was a way to release those emotions that you don’t have words for; the ones that rob you of every feeling in your body. Grace wrote down a few more things before asking another question.
“What do you think of the nurses and other patients?”
Grace was still doing her job but she wasn’t diving in deep on the first day.
Abigail’s cheek flushed at her nickname, although it had been around for so long and she loved having a nickname, it was a bit embarrassing since she was a teenager. “Mm…Chicken noodle soup!” she said, getting a glass of ginger ale and making her way to the living room where she could sit to settle her stomach.
Blue curled up at her feet, whining lightly so he could be scratched under his chin. She could understand why her sister loved that dog so much, he was an absolute sweetheart.
“Hey…do you know when Grace is going to get home?”
Of course Abigail was nervous about her sister’s new job since it was a half an hour away, too far for Abigail’s liking. What if her sister hit a deer or went off into a ditch or something? Cars mildly scared her, especially when it was raining. The blonde sighed loudly and nursed her glass of ginger ale like a drunk at the bar.
“I have art supplies in the corner if you ever want to draw,” she said with a small smile. “All of the drawings I have up on my walls here belong to people I’ve worked with.” She pointed out a few drawings and mentioned to Emma that the people who drew them suffered from many similar conditions that she did.
“He shouldn’t have said that it was harmful, art is very helpful.”
After the death of her parents Grace filled an entire sketchbook within a week. Of course they were simple studies of her sister as she lay unmoving in the hospital bed but there were studies and drawings of the flowers that people had taken Abigail and other things. It was a way to release those emotions that you don’t have words for; the ones that rob you of every feeling in your body. Grace wrote down a few more things before asking another question.
“What do you think of the nurses and other patients?”
Grace was still doing her job but she wasn’t diving in deep on the first day.
Abigail’s cheek flushed at her nickname, although it had been around for so long and she loved having a nickname, it was a bit embarrassing since she was a teenager. “Mm…Chicken noodle soup!” she said, getting a glass of ginger ale and making her way to the living room where she could sit to settle her stomach.
Blue curled up at her feet, whining lightly so he could be scratched under his chin. She could understand why her sister loved that dog so much, he was an absolute sweetheart.
“Hey…do you know when Grace is going to get home?”
Of course Abigail was nervous about her sister’s new job since it was a half an hour away, too far for Abigail’s liking. What if her sister hit a deer or went off into a ditch or something? Cars mildly scared her, especially when it was raining. The blonde sighed loudly and nursed her glass of ginger ale like a drunk at the bar.
Okay :) Just take your time with getting a reply up, school is more important.
Alright :)
Thank you :) I enjoyed reading yours as well.
I'll have a reply up later tonight.
I'll have a reply up later tonight.
I'll have a reply up tomorrow :3
Already her office was decorated to her liking, the stiff chairs were replaced with comfortable bean bags, pictures lined the walls as well as Harry Potter posters, there was a book shelf full of books for her patients to read, there were fresh flowers sitting on her desk, and there was art supplies tucked away in the corner, and even the blinds had been changed to simple gray curtains. It certainly didn’t look like an office at a mental institute. Well Grace didn’t look like a doctor at all. Standing at 5’4, the black haired woman could pass for a teenager. With wide green eyes she took in her office; as disjointed as everything was there was something about the room that was calming. Perhaps it was even Grace herself. The woman was comfortable in this new environment. Her husband had been worried; Mark was always the one to worry for the both of them.
Grace was childish in her ways, often going out of her way to make someone laugh at a joke a five year old would laugh at.
On her desk was a framed photo of herself, her husband and her sister. After their parents died Abigail came to live with Grace and Mark. It was perfect, up until Abigail started to assert her independence. She was sixteen, it was understandable but she was still Grace’s little sister. At the age of twenty eight Grace did not see herself as a surrogate to her half-sister. She did not see herself with such a happy life, as a teenager Grace had hit a rough patch that involved the wrong crowd and everything else that came with being stuck between a child and adult.
The staff here was nice as were the patients, today she’d be meeting Emma. Already having a file on the girl, complete with notes of horrible doctor handwriting, Grace could tell that this case was going to be different. When the door opened and a tony voice echoed through her office, the woman’s face brightened as she welcomed Emma. “Yes come in!” Grace pulled a bean bag across the floor so they could sit close enough to talk.
“I am Dr. Matthews, but please just call me Grace.” She said, taking a seat in a lime green bean bag chair with her clipboard resting on her lap. “Please have a seat Emma.” While Grace was mostly fun she could be work as well. “So tell me…what did you really think about your last doctor? Was he a total prick like the staff said?” Leaning forward to hear the girl better, Grace was quietly observing her mannerisms. For someone with PTSD Emma didn’t seem to be as ‘ill’ as the notes said she was. Grace hated to label others but in her line of work it was needed. That didn’t mean that she could label them all basket cases and call it good. No she needed to get to know them on a personal level in order to understand them and their condition.
Not everyone was the textbook example of mental illnesses.
Abigail was home sick today with a stomach ache and slight fever. She wished that her sister and her brother-in-law wouldn’t treat her like a baby. She knew that it had only been a few years since the accident that killed her parents, the same accident that had put Abigail in a coma for a week. The same accident that had taken a large part of her heart was also the same accident that led to its mending. Without her sister she probably would have killed herself.
Grace and Mark were so welcoming, sometimes Abigail felt like a burden to them but her sister reassured her that she wasn’t. Often she would hear them both talking about something more than just a dog and cat, whom she helped name. Crookshanks has been a kitten when Abigail first moved in, a tiny nameless orange kitten. Blue was a different story that was her sister’s baby.
She was worried that once they would become parents it meant that Abigail would be on the streets. The blonde girl sighed; she looked so different from her petite black haired sister. Being quite tall and a bit on the willowy side, Abigail took more after their late father. She wore simple flannel pajama pants and an oversized green t-shirt, one that complimented her emerald eyes. Getting up and venturing to Mark’s office she yawned.
Mark had been part of the family long before he married Grace and he had always been a brother figure to Abigail. She first met Mark when she was only four years old—twelve years ago—then he had been a friend of Grace’s. Of course it wasn’t until a few years ago when they became a couple and married.
“Hey big brother,” Abigail said, using the nickname that she’d given the man years ago. “Wanna make me some soup or something? Remember the last time I tried to cook?” Who wouldn’t? She almost burnt the house down!
With Grace gone to work for the first time since their parents died, Abigail was feeling lonely.
Was this what it could it be like if there was a new person in the family?
Grace was childish in her ways, often going out of her way to make someone laugh at a joke a five year old would laugh at.
On her desk was a framed photo of herself, her husband and her sister. After their parents died Abigail came to live with Grace and Mark. It was perfect, up until Abigail started to assert her independence. She was sixteen, it was understandable but she was still Grace’s little sister. At the age of twenty eight Grace did not see herself as a surrogate to her half-sister. She did not see herself with such a happy life, as a teenager Grace had hit a rough patch that involved the wrong crowd and everything else that came with being stuck between a child and adult.
The staff here was nice as were the patients, today she’d be meeting Emma. Already having a file on the girl, complete with notes of horrible doctor handwriting, Grace could tell that this case was going to be different. When the door opened and a tony voice echoed through her office, the woman’s face brightened as she welcomed Emma. “Yes come in!” Grace pulled a bean bag across the floor so they could sit close enough to talk.
“I am Dr. Matthews, but please just call me Grace.” She said, taking a seat in a lime green bean bag chair with her clipboard resting on her lap. “Please have a seat Emma.” While Grace was mostly fun she could be work as well. “So tell me…what did you really think about your last doctor? Was he a total prick like the staff said?” Leaning forward to hear the girl better, Grace was quietly observing her mannerisms. For someone with PTSD Emma didn’t seem to be as ‘ill’ as the notes said she was. Grace hated to label others but in her line of work it was needed. That didn’t mean that she could label them all basket cases and call it good. No she needed to get to know them on a personal level in order to understand them and their condition.
Not everyone was the textbook example of mental illnesses.
Abigail was home sick today with a stomach ache and slight fever. She wished that her sister and her brother-in-law wouldn’t treat her like a baby. She knew that it had only been a few years since the accident that killed her parents, the same accident that had put Abigail in a coma for a week. The same accident that had taken a large part of her heart was also the same accident that led to its mending. Without her sister she probably would have killed herself.
Grace and Mark were so welcoming, sometimes Abigail felt like a burden to them but her sister reassured her that she wasn’t. Often she would hear them both talking about something more than just a dog and cat, whom she helped name. Crookshanks has been a kitten when Abigail first moved in, a tiny nameless orange kitten. Blue was a different story that was her sister’s baby.
She was worried that once they would become parents it meant that Abigail would be on the streets. The blonde girl sighed; she looked so different from her petite black haired sister. Being quite tall and a bit on the willowy side, Abigail took more after their late father. She wore simple flannel pajama pants and an oversized green t-shirt, one that complimented her emerald eyes. Getting up and venturing to Mark’s office she yawned.
Mark had been part of the family long before he married Grace and he had always been a brother figure to Abigail. She first met Mark when she was only four years old—twelve years ago—then he had been a friend of Grace’s. Of course it wasn’t until a few years ago when they became a couple and married.
“Hey big brother,” Abigail said, using the nickname that she’d given the man years ago. “Wanna make me some soup or something? Remember the last time I tried to cook?” Who wouldn’t? She almost burnt the house down!
With Grace gone to work for the first time since their parents died, Abigail was feeling lonely.
Was this what it could it be like if there was a new person in the family?
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