Mind Vomit by the ikss

lust

This was written as part of the daily Fictionista WitFit writing prompts. The whole point of these daily prompts is to write in an almost stream-of-consciousness manner with little-to-no editing. Basically, WitFit provides writers with the encouragement, the opportunity and the prompts we sometimes need in order to write something every day.

Today’s prompt was “Lust” and I used it to explore the nature of a character I really do not like at all – Rosalie Hale, from Twlight. I wondered if I could find it in me to write about a character I really dislike with some sense of empathy or sympathy. Sure, I could have picked Charles Manson, but where’s the fun in that?

For more information about the Fictionista Workshop and WitFit, see http://www.fictionistaworkshop.com/

January 11, 2010
Prompt: Lust
Derivative Fiction (Twilight – Rosalie)
Rating: R (adult, sexual themes)
Disclaimer: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

Lust

Sometimes, not often, I think I may well be a sex addict. I am usually honest, however, and in being so I admit that it’s not the sex I crave. It’s not the physical act of love, the penetration, the kissing, the touching; it’s the allure, the dance. The lust.

I want to be wanted. I want to want.

It was no different when I was alive – when I was human. It was perhaps muted to a degree, as social morays dictated at the time; but I still searched the eyes of those around me and paid closer attention to body language than did most. I sought out and more often than not I found that desire; that lust; that want, in the eyes and in the actions of the men around me; sometimes in women, as well. I did not suspect that most women wanted me sexually, although I realize now that some did. There was something else that they longed for. Something about me they wished to have as their own. Something they wanted to absorb by osmosis.

It started at a very young age. When I was but eleven, my older cousin’s friend – Reed - trapped me in the barn at the back of our property and forced me to kiss him. I say he forced me, but in truth I was more than a little intrigued. I had seen him watching me for several weeks, as he was staying at our farm, with my cousin, for the summer. They were working with the horses. My uncle thought it would be good for them to “work hard for once in their lives” and “get some direction” before they went back for their last year of school.

I have no idea if his ideas for the boys’ summer education came to fruition. I know only that I saw that look on his face every night we would sit down for dinner and every morning as I would sit on the front porch, waving good-bye to them as they embarked on their daily chores.

The look of want.

the cocky and the cougar - chapter 16 teaser

Happy Sunday, kids. In celebration of the Lord's day, I bring you a

Chapter 16 Teaser!

And then I heard it. He cleared his throat and I looked up to see Edward walking through my door, toward me. He shut the door behind him and approached my desk. His hands were spread in front of him, palms up.

 

"What was with the disappearing act this morning? And why aren't you answering your phone?"

 

My teeth ground together as I stood from my chair. My heart pounded in my chest and I felt my face flush with rage and I was just thankful that was the emotion which came to the surface, first. How dare he come in here and act so innocent?

 

"Are you fucking kidding me with this?" I muttered. I was seething as I watched Edward's jaw drop open slightly.

 

"Huh?"

 

I moved toward my door. "This is neither the time nor the place to discuss this Edward. We are at work. Please leave my office." I turned when I got to the door and stood next to it.

 

Edward almost stalked toward me, his face betraying his forming anger. He stopped when he reached me and spoke quietly. His hand was on the door so that I wouldn’t be able to open it. "Bella, what the fuck?"

 

My heart was in my throat and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to speak again. I had never felt such anger before; possibly not even when I saw a young college co-ed doing a topless bull-ride on top of the man who was supposed to be my husband. I crossed my arms in front of my chest; to keep him at a distance, but also in an attempt to literally hold myself together. I glared at him for several moments before I was finally able to speak. "Did you listen to your phone messages this morning, Edward?"

 

Edward's face slackened and rapidly began to pale. I watched his chest rise and fall and his breathing rate increased.

 

"Shit,” he said, softly. “You did...Bella…"

**

And that is all...for now...

New chapter should be posted later this week.

roots

This was a little something I’ve had circling around my brain for a while now and the WitFit prompt of “Roots” gave me the opportunity to give it life. The whole point of these daily prompts is to write in an almost stream-of-consciousness manner with little-to-no editing. Basically, WitFit provides writers with the encouragement, the opportunity and the prompts we sometimes need in order to write something every day. 

I used this exercise to experiment in writing in the present-tense for the very first time ever. I’d love to know what you think.

For more information about the Fictionista Workshop and WitFit, please clink the links provided.

***

January 2, 2010
Prompt: Roots
Derivative Fiction (Twilight – Jasper, Alice. All Human, Alternate Universe)
Rating: MA/NC17 (graphic sexual activity, adult themes and language)
Disclaimer: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

***

Roots

Roots. I have to pull fucking roots today.

Generally speaking, my job is perfect for me.  It’s hard physical work, which I enjoy; it keeps me outdoors, which I love; and for the most part I’m assigned tasks which leave me alone. Which is essential.

It’s not that I don’t like the guys I work with. I don’t know any of them enough to dislike them, truth be told. I’ve just always preferred my own company to that of others. My entire life I’ve been what you’d call a loner. I guess I prefer observing people to actually interacting with them. They interest me - fascinate me, really; but up close they inevitably make me uncomfortable and I rarely know what to say to any of them. The older I get, the less I find myself making the effort.

Thankfully, my boss – Edward - had figured that out pretty quickly. When I started this job a little over a year ago, I just kept volunteering for the hardest work or the tasks which kept me farthest away from the others. I would work the edges of properties while others were weeding, all clumped together and gossiping like teenaged girls. I would man the leaf blower – a job detested by most sane people - because it meant that I could wear headphones and not be expected to utter a single word. Once Edward figured out my personality type, as well as the fact that I truly enjoyed hard, physical labor, he just naturally started assigning those types of tasks to me.

We have a regular client base set up and so we work the same places week after week. Tuesdays are perhaps my favorite day of the week because we work all day at The Woods – a large apartment complex in Laguna Canyon which backs up to a steep hill, covered in foliage and elm trees. Not only is it beautiful, but I can work extremely hard all day and not even see any of my co-workers. While they putter around in the flower beds and trim the trees along the driveways, I tend to the large, steep hill behind the complex. I usually clear brush and mow the steep hill, occasionally trimming the trees. It’s never easy and I’m always filthy when I get home and completely exhausted. I would have it no other way.

I envy the people who live on the back side of the building. Their balconies and decks look out on lush greenery and trees which actually change color with the seasons (something rare to find in Southern California). It’s quiet back here, and secluded. I can see myself sitting out on one of those balconies for hours, just drinking coffee and reading, taking in the fresh air and listening to the birds in the trees. If I could afford to live there, that is.

I might like my job, but the pay is for shit.

Of course, there is another reason I like to work back here, alone. I won’t admit it if you ask me directly, but that reason does exist.

She doesn’t know me, of course. It’s not like I ever say anything to her or to any of the tenants, for that matter. Our job is to come in and do our work while most of them are at their own places of business. The only one of us who ever actually speaks to anybody is Edward, because it’s his company. But I know her face. I know her hair. I even know her body. And in a strange way, I feel that I know her.

***

For the rest of the story, please visit my ff page:

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5635502/1/

 

afterglow

Fictionista Workshop Daily WitFit Challenge, Jan. 1, 2010

Prompt: Afterglow

Rating: PG13

 

Afterglow

He could still smell her perfume the next morning

It permeated the pillow next to him

Softly spicy notes of vanilla – or was it nutmeg –

Wafting through the air around him as he dropped a fist to its feathered softness

Sinking into it as he had sunk himself into the softness of her just hours before

Boy that shit stank.