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Archive 23 / i-will-possess-your-heart
Triggers: Sexual content, stalking, dubious consent/non consent
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Several people 01-Apr-23 07:55 PM
TW: Sexual content, stalking, dubious consent/non consent
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Eden Monroe BOT 02-Apr-23 12:10 PM
Eden Monroe had always led a relatively private life. Even with her tight knit family growing up she had managed to keep much of her life to herself and she preferred it that way. She had always been closest with her mother and her older sister and even they didn't know as much as they probably thought they did about her. She had never been in much trouble, sure as a teen she experimented with the occasional drink, she even tried smoking marijuana once but she hadn't been a fan, she needed to be able to think clearly. It had been about 4 years since Eden set out on her own. Having lived in a small town in Virginia for most of her life she had finally made her way to the west coast to try and make a name for herself. Her parents and sister had helped her bring all of her belongings over and her father had checked over her new home to make sure the locks were good enough to keep his precious daughter safe. Eden stood short at only 5'1 and she was rather petite, even putting up her strongest fight she knew prevention was better than having to deal with the consequences of being ill prepared and ill protected. In those four years she had held a few different full time jobs while also working towards her goal of being an artist. She worked a steady 6 to 3 job and the rest of her time was spent painting and getting in touch with galleries to attempt to get a spot in one. All the hard work was finally going to pay off and she was ecstatic. That Friday after getting out of work she rushed home to get ready she had made herself a quick dinner and took the time to eat it before dressing herself up in a sleek black dress that hugged her curves just right with matching black heels, doing her hair in loose curls and deciding to stay more natural with her makeup she finally made her way out the door to the gallery.
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Eden Monroe BOT 02-Apr-23 12:10 PM
. It wasn't the highest end gallery by any means and it housed plenty of amateur artists such as herself but she knew it was a step in the right direction and seeing her work hanging on the wall was more than enough satisfaction for her. She spent the entirety of the event mingling with people, making small talk with a couple lovely people who had asked her questions about her work and asking others about their own. By the time she went home she riding the high of knowing so many people enjoyed her work and she couldn't wait to fall into bed and get the best sleep she had had in weeks.
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Eden Monroe BOT 02-Apr-23 12:10 PM
@Several people
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Illiam Moore BOT 02-Apr-23 07:13 PM
Illiam Moore always felt like something was missing in his life. As if when a normal person was being built, some fraction of it was left off, much like how his mother had chosen to leave off the “W” that would have made him “William” or “Will” instead of just “Ill”. He spent much of his time alone, trying to find whatever it was that was missing in his life. He went through the same cycle where he would find something that felt like it would make him whole. He would throw himself into the thing, hyper fixating on it, to the point of obsession. He’d try to become the best at it that he could, losing sleep for days on end, until he had reached his goal, but then he’d reach it and feel empty again. Illiam learned to channel this obsessiveness into a relatively successful career as a ghost writer. He could take that hyper fixation and work the temporary pleasure it gave him into words, providing content for peoples blogs and writing short books, ranging from technical manuals to dime store novels. The nature of his obsessive behavior made it so that he could spend a day straight writing the next week or so’s worth of writing with little more than breaks to use the bathroom, and then he could take the rest of his time to focus on filling the void in him. Illiam’s most recent fixation had been on art. He was drawn to paintings and still images, seeking out what it was that others put of themselves into each work. If the artists could find meaning in their art, maybe he could learn what meaning and wholeness was to them and emulate it to find his own. Every night for the past two weeks, he went to gallery after gallery around the city, looking for meaning. Some of the art drew him in, but then he would talk to the artist and judge them as vapid and shallow, lacking any true depth or meaning of their own. Everyone he met reeked of fraudulence.
19:13
Illiam tried to convince himself that he had not just found himself at another dead end. All of the art galleries he had been to were more well known, more experienced artists. The type who just made their pieces to pay for the next month-long vacation to Cancun or some other paradisiacal spot, where the artist could lose themselves to another drug-filled stupor, or so Illiam told himself. “Yes,” he told himself. “I need to stop looking at the people who create art to make a living and start seeking out the artists who cannot live without making art. Authenticity should still exist within that art.” So, Illiam went home that night and sought out any upcoming amateur art galleries, hoping to find what he so desperately was seeking after there. Illaim planned out his next day’s worth of gallery visits and then spent the rest of the night wide awake, writing a review to one of the galleries for some local blogger who tried to seem deep, but had spent less than ten minutes at the gallery in question before she left. She had contracted Illiam to write blog posts on each of the galleries she was visiting. All she had to do was show up and let Illiam do the real work. She disgusted him. Just another empty husk of a human being, shallower than a dried up puddle. Still, she was covering his bills and then a great bit more, and her contract covered his tickets into the galleries. The next day was Friday and he had found three different art galleries doing local amateur artist displays. He arrived at the first around lunch, made a few laps around the gallery, then headed off to the second around mid-afternoon, feeling nothing as he looked at the art and met the artists. He was starting to lose motivation. Maybe this art was not what he was missing. Maybe the artists did not know what they were missing any better than he was. Illiam told himself that he would try this one last gallery before giving up hope.
19:14
Illiam made his way to his third gallery of the day, feeling his expectations sinking lower and lower. He had taken in as much art as he could, but nothing was speaking to him. He walked around the gallery, barely pausing to consider each image. He exchanged pleasantries that were full of nothingness and was preparing to toss his aspirations aside when he came across a few more paintings, practically tucked into a back corner. The painting was abstract, but the way the curves and hard lines came together in swirling loops and patterns drew him in, rekindling his faith. “Maybe this is an artist who found that something that I am missing. I need to meet them,” he told himself. He took note of the name posted just below the art. Eden. Could she be his paradise? Looking at her art, he already knew that she understood him deeply. How else could she have put to canvas the complicated twisting emotions that he felt deep down? He looked around and spotted a group of people nearby, centered around a woman with copper hair. Illiam wanted to walk over and run his fingers through it, it looked so soft. And her tight black dress accentuated her curves perfectly. It left just enough to the imagination. Illiam imagined that she smelled of warm honey and lilies. Once the group finally started to part, he made his way forward introducing himself. He was already prepared to correct her when she repeated his name back as “William.” He gave a chuckle and said, “No, it’s Illiam. Take ‘William’ and mentally cross out the ‘W’. That’s me.” When she repeated his name back to him, it made a shiver run the length of his spine. They made small talk while the other people moved around them, but Illiam could see from her eyes that she wanted more than empty chit chat. So he asked her about her art and the inspiration for it, like he didn’t already know how it connected them. He knew that she would soon realize that he was what she was looking for too.
19:14
The damn vapid, insipid fools around kept interrupting them and before long, she was forced to give her attention to the insufferable art folks who were trying to buy one of her paintings. But Illiam understood, she wanted nothing more than to talk to him. Before she left, he asked if she would be at other galleries anytime soon. She told him the time and location of another showing coming up the following week. She gave him a little wave as she turned to the buyers and Illiam’s heart raced in anticipation of their upcoming date. Illiam got home and pulled out his best suit and ironed it. He spent the night edging himself thinking of the sound of her voice saying his name. For hours, he kept himself right on the verge of cumming, but not letting himself orgasm because he couldn’t quite get the whole scene perfect in his mind. He fell asleep before he could make the perfect scenario. The following days passed in a painfully slow crawl. He spent each day agonizing over every detail of his outfit for their date. Were his socks too dingy? Was the cut of the suit perfect? Straight tie? What color? A pattern? What about a bowtie? Should he go pleats? No pleats? The evening finally came and he dressed, still agonizing over every little detail of his appearance. Butterflies in his stomach, he made his way to the gallery, stopping to buy Eden a bouquet of lilies. He arrived over 30 minutes before the door opened, so he milled around, hoping that Eden had arrived early as well. He could see them already, strolling along the street while waiting for the gallery to open for the special event, hand in hand, laughing. He stood around waiting, expecting her to show up at any moment.
19:14
The doors opened to the gallery and Eden had not yet shown up. Illiam was growing frustrated, thinking that Eden had stood him up. He continued to wait around outside, checking his pocket watch periodically. The thought occurred to him that she might already be inside, since her art was actually part of the show. He felt stupid as he made his way inside, hoping that Eden didn’t think that he was standing her up. He would just have to apologize and explain that he had just assumed they would meet by the door. He rushed into the gallery, seeking out Eden and her art. He did not see Eden, so he decided to look for her paintings. He made five laps around the gallery, but could not find a single one of her pieces. He was growing frustrated, but tried to keep his cool. He eventually found one of the organizers of the event and asked, “Hi, I was supposed to meet one of the artists here. Her name is Eden?” He gestured with the flowers in his hand, “This was supposed to be a sort of date for us.” The organizer gave him a friendly smile and said, “Oh yes, Eden, I spoke to her earlier. Apparently there was some emergency and she had to pull out of the show tonight.” Illiam excused himself and headed home, dropping the flowers in a garbage bin. He started to grow worried. Was she okay? Was she the cause of the emergency or did she just have to go to help? If he knew his Eden, he figured that she would be the one to drop everything at a moment’s notice to take care of someone else. He made his way home and stroked himself to completion at the thought of Eden dropping everything to come take care of him if he needed it, like he knew she would. After cumming, he laid back in bed, ready to finally enjoy a good night’s sleep.
19:14
He practically jumped out of bed when he realized he did not know how to get back in touch with Eden. He tore his house apart looking for a pamphlet from the first time he met her, but could not find one anywhere. Searching “Eden Art” online just got him a bunch of religious imagery and one sex toy shop on the other side of town. “Fuck, why didn’t I write down her last name! Why can’t I remember it? I know it was there on the stupid fucking plaque. What was it!” He spent the rest of the night pacing back and forth for a while before rushing back to the computer trying new search terms to try and find her. He tried to make himself a cup of tea to try and calm his nerves, but ended up smashing it on the floor in frustration. He then decided to search out every single upcoming artist showcase, gallery, or anything of the like and go to every single one until he found her again. She would someday laugh when she heard how hard he looked to reconnect with her. She would melt at the thought of all of the work he did to make their future a reality.
19:15
@⁺₊⋆ ☾ 𝓓𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓲 𝓚𝓲𝓽
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Eden Monroe BOT 03-Apr-23 04:34 PM
Eden had been looking forward to her next showing since the last one seemed to go so well, she had even managed to sell a couple of her paintings. One that was more abstract and the other that was a painting of a woman all in greyscale with a butterfly perched on her finger. She had been in such high spirits after meeting and mingling with so many other likeminded people too that she felt invincible for the entire week. She had chosen the perfect pieces to bring to this showing, deciding on a mix of more abstract pieces and a variety of flowers that she had done in oil. Her nerves were running high in the couple days beforehand and she had been picking out the perfect outfit when her mother called to let her know that her older sister had been in a car wreck and that they were on the way to the hospital. Being as close as she was to her sister she made the difficult decision to pull out of the showing, grateful that she was able to book another two weeks out. She hung up the phone and immediately packed a bag with enough outfits to last her for a few days at least and caught the next flight home to Virginia that she could. When she arrived she was grateful to hear that while her sister had a severe concussion and was pretty banged up, the prognosis was good and she would just need to take it easy for a few weeks. Eden spent the rest of the weekend making sure that her sister was really okay, asking the doctor at least fifty times an hour if everything was still looking the way it should and when he sister would be able to be discharged. When Monday evening finally rolled around she made her way back to the airport so that she would be back in time to work her shift the following day. She tried to take off of work as little as possible to keep her income as high as it could be while chasing her dreams, and since she knew her sister was going to be alright she felt like it was okay to go back home. .
16:34
It was just after midnight when she finally put the key into the lock and made her way inside to shower and promptly fall into bed. The night had been so exhausting and the entire flight was filled with the shrill screams of a tantrum throwing toddler. Eden knew she wanted children of her own someday but it was moments like that that made her grateful she could just put in headphones and try to ignore it. The following weeks went by seemingly normal to her, wake up, get ready, go to work, paint, eat dinner, shower, go to sleep. It might have seemed mundane to others but every day she made sure to take the time to do the thing she loved the most and it always felt worth it to her. When the night of the showing rolled around she arrived at the gallery early, easier to do since it fell on a Saturday this time. She had brought the same paintings she was going to show before she had had to cancel and her entire body was buzzing with nerves as she looked at their placement on the wall, this time not tucked completely away in the corner. Before she had left she'd pulled on another dress, this time in a deep red, with black heels to match, opting once again to keep her hair loose and her makeup more natural. Once people started to filter in she made her way around making small talk and trying to appeal to potential buyers, making sure to occasionally drift back over to where her own art was stationed in case anyone had any questions about a specific piece.
16:34
@Several people
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Illiam Moore BOT 09-Apr-23 06:06 PM
Illiam’s next two weeks were full of trips to every major and minor art gallery in the city. He could not eat and he could barely force himself to drink in his constant search. His one stroke of genius happened when he was able to convince the airheaded blogger that it would be a good idea to do a series of posts about many of the amateur artists in the city. He explained that it would show to her readers that she didn’t just go to the fancy expensive art shows, but that as a true patron of the arts, she also supported the thriving community of local artists. The braindead fraud ate it up. So now Illiam was having his way paid into all of the galleries and getting paid to write about it. The time spent going to gallery after gallery only reinforced his knowledge that all of these artists were just a bunch of narcissistic frauds, only worried about seeing their vain, borderline grotesque art hung up on a worthless fucking wall just to make themselves feel like their inconsequential lives had any worth. So, he ended up writing faux-deep blog posts for a fraud, about a bunch of frauds. But then there was his Eden. A true artist among a bunch of vile pieces of shit. Making real art that people could connect with. Both of her paintings at their first meeting were masterworks, probing right into his soul. He could hear her crying out for him in each of the brush strokes. She needed him as much as he needed her. Illiam felt a constant nervous energy and took to fidgeting with his old lockpicking set, one of his many other failed attempts at finding something to make him feel something. It gave his hands something to do in the times when he couldn’t sleep.
18:06
Internally, Illiam felt like he was running himself ragged. He was constantly busy, visiting galleries and writing articles, all the while looking out for Eden. But he forced himself to make sure he was presentable for every single gallery. No matter what, he kept his facial hair trimmed, his hair and body clean, and his suit well pressed. He ended up buying three more suits so that he could change between galleries and look prim and pressed no matter what. The vapid woman he was writing for was ecstatic over his article writing. He was giving her a backlog of posts that would carry well into the vacation season for her, so she would just set up her blog to auto post and be able to kick back while the readers rolled in. She paid him a large bonus after her ardent “passion” for the arts started drawing viral attention to her blog. It was just more money he could set aside for he and Eden’s eventual honeymoon. Then it finally happened, Illiam was making his usual loop through the local art galleries and a painting spoke to him. He knew immediately that it had to be her’s. Immediately, he spun around, looking for his dear love, his little bit of paradise, Eden. And there she was, clad in a red dress How did she know that red is my favorite? She really is my soulmate. Her black heels showed off her well toned legs, and her natural look and loose hair made his heart quicken. He waited for her to finish speaking with the well dressed couple before her, he knew she’d appreciate a polite and proper gentleman. Every second of waiting for the couple to finally walk away was like having his heart in a vice, slowly tightening it to the point of bursting. When they finally finished exchanging pleasantries, Illiam walked forward, reaching to give Eden a hug. “Eden, it is so good to see you again. I was so disappointed to hear that you wouldn’t be at the gallery showing the other week, but I understand, emergencies happen. I’m just glad to see that you are alright!”
18:06
@⁺₊⋆ ☾ 𝓓𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓲 𝓚𝓲𝓽
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Eden Monroe BOT 10-Apr-23 04:27 PM
Eden felt guilty when she didn't recognize the man who approached her, they'd clearly spoken before, at least she assumed as much with his friendly approach and the way he said 'again'. "I'm so sorry what was your name again?" She felt her cheeks tint pink with embarrassment at having to ask, assuming if this was a potential client she had definitely just blown the sale for certain. Wait.. how did he know I had a family emergency? The thought flashed through her mind and she felt, just for a moment, uncomfortable. She decided to brush it off as one of the coordinators answering a question at the previous event. Maybe he really was interested in her work after all. She stood there with a friendly smile on her face, holding a glass of expensive bubbly and sipping it to try and cut through the awkwardness she was feeling. He had a somewhat familiar face but with everything that had happened she couldn't dredge up his name for the life of her. @Several people
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Illiam Moore BOT 10-Apr-23 05:27 PM
Illiam loved how she teased him, pretending not to know his name. He did not mind if she wanted to play coy. The touch of redness on her cheeks was all the confirmation he needed that she was just playing at being shy. He decided to play along with her games. He let out a small chuckle and said, “It’s Illiam, just like William if you crossed out the ‘W’.” He smiled and looked her in the eyes, seeing a twinkle in her eyes before she averted her gaze. Just another way that she’s playing bashful. It’s so adorable. I can feel how much she wants me, but I understand that she won’t want to seem too eager, especially with everyone around. “I found your work so fascinating a few weeks ago when we first met. It felt like I could see straight into your soul in the flowing brush strokes. There’s just something so much more authentic in your work. It feels like so many of the modern artists use their art to draw attention to themselves, a sort of ‘look at me!’ that doesn’t show anything deeper than the artists own love for themselves. It takes something from the viewer. But yours, it has this captivating way of showing a part of yourself, instead, giving a part of yourself in its vulnerability. It’s beautiful and hard to look away from, much like yourself. You look absolutely stunning.” Illiam paused, grabbing a glass of some champagne as a man with a tray full walked by. He took a drink to parch his dry throat. He hoped he hadn’t spoken too forwardly or broken Eden’s pretend shyness. The lingering smell of her perfume was like an intoxicant for him and he could barely restrain himself from grabbing her and kissing her right then and there.
17:27
@⁺₊⋆ ☾ 𝓓𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓲 𝓚𝓲𝓽
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Eden Monroe BOT 10-Apr-23 05:45 PM
"Ah yes that's right! Sorry I've been a bit scatterbrained the past couple weeks." He was so forward, so bold, the way he held eye contact with her honestly made her nervous, she kept looking away and then back feeling rude for not reciprocating. When he started to speak to her about her art she honestly felt so flattered, her blush deepening as he explained everything that she had been trying to do. She felt a sense of pride that she'd really been able to put a piece of herself into her artwork, something she'd struggled with for many years before she figured it out. Before she learned how to be vulnerable on canvas. "You really mean that? That means so much to me thank you, it's been a lot of blood, sweat, and tears so to say but it's nice to see it finally being recognized even a little bit." She took another sip of champagne, this time trying to calm the nerves that were spiking from the sudden attention and recognition. "Have you been interested in the arts for very long?" She was curious about the man, after all it was rare someone who wasn't an advisor collector would say something so profound, especially about her work. He seemed different than a lot of the other people she'd met so far tonight. @Several people
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Illiam Moore BOT 10-Apr-23 06:30 PM
Illiam smiled at Eden and reached out to take her hand and give it a gentle, reassuring squeeze as he said, “I mean it with all of my heart. You are incredible and you deserve every ounce of recognition coming your way.” Illiam set it in his mind that the post he would write about this gallery would feature a large section emphasizing Eden’s work. “Yeah, by this point in time, I’ve made my way through every one of the art galleries in the city at least once. And not a single piece of art has stirred anything within me the way yours has.” Lowering his voice, Illiam said conspiratorially, “I can’t say which one due to a nondisclosure agreement, but I am a ghostwriter for one of the larger local art review blogs, so I’ve gotten to see so much of the art scene, from the large scale galleries full of millionaire artists, to the small backroom galleries where artists are just cutting their teeth. And you are something truly special. I’d love to see more of your work and hear your story.” Illiam smiled and ran his hand through his hair.
18:30
@⁺₊⋆ ☾ 𝓓𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓲 𝓚𝓲𝓽
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Eden Monroe BOT 10-Apr-23 06:52 PM
Eden felt herself growing more uneasy when he reached to squeeze her hand, she let him for just a moment before she switched her champagne to that hand as an excuse to let go. His hands were nice enough but it felt strange from someone she didn't know at all. "Oh wow that sounds.. intense. I can't imagine being in those bigger galleries the idea alone is overwhelming, I've rarely ever gone to visit them myself." It was true, of course it was amazing to see the higher artists work but it was also intimidating and disheartening. They all seemed to possess the kind of talent that she could only dream of. "I'm glad you think my work stands out but I'm nothing compared to so many of those people" She nervously rolled her lips, she was never great at small talk and he was so intense it made it even more difficult for her to come up with things to say. @Several people
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Illiam Moore BOT 10-Apr-23 07:48 PM
The way she bit her lip as she stared at him longingly made his heart race. Her humility just proved to Illiam just how authentic she was in comparison to the other phonies out there. All of the rest would have bought into their own hype. But not his Eden. She still needed to learn just how incredible she was, and Illiam knew he could help show her. “You should go to some of them. I think you’d see just how special your work is. Let me take you. The person I write for pays my way into the galleries, and my tickets always include a plus one, but I rarely have someone to take with. Plus, I could then buy one of your works without you having to pay the outrageous forty percent commission fee that I know this place skims from every sale you make.” Leaning closer, Illiam said in a lower voice, “I’d much rather actually support a real artist. I have met the owner of this gallery on several occasions and I’m not sure they could tell a Picasso from a pekingese.” He leaned back and gave Eden a big grin before taking another sip of his champagne. @⁺₊⋆ ☾ 𝓓𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓲 𝓚𝓲𝓽
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Eden Monroe BOT 26-Apr-23 10:59 AM
"Oh um-" She was trying to think of a way that she could politely get out of going to one of the nicer galleries, even the idea of going anywhere with a stranger made her heart flutter with anxiety, it was probably why she'd been single for such a long time. Just when she was about to let out some poor excuse another man pulled her attention away to ask a question. "Sorry about that um.. sure yeah I'd love to go visit one of the galleries and I do have to admit it would be nice not to have to pay the commission most of them charge." It's not like it was a date or anything, at least that's what she told herself. Just a friendly enough seeming man who was interested in art trying to be nice. She told herself not to overthink it. "I've never heard of them" She said with an awkward laugh, she didn't realize that he was actually comparing Picasso to a breed of dog and not another artist. Mirroring him when he took a big sip of champagne she found her glass empty and plucked another from one of the many employees roaming about. "Are you from the area? I can't remember if I got the chance to ask when we last spoke." She assumed he must at least live in a neighboring city to be writing for the blog but she couldn't say for sure. @Several people
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Illiam Moore BOT 26-Apr-23 04:41 PM
Illiam’s heart nearly skipped a beat when she said she would love to be with him. He was riding high and nearly missed her question and had to have her repeat it. “Yes and no. I’ve lived here for the past 6 years or so, but I grew up on the East Coast. It was a bit.. Rural for my tastes, so when I could save up some money from my freelance writing, I made the move. Are you local?” Illiam left out the part about how a big motivator for his cross country move was ending up on the bad side of the local sheriff. It wasn’t Illiam’s fault that the man’s daughter would not stop trying to get his attention. She left a million hints letting him know that she wanted him. It was not his fault that she left her window open for him or that her squeal of excitement brought the rest of the house running to her room that night. Illiam hoped she was doing okay without him. Whenever she would touch herself, she would always act like she could not see him just outside the window, but it had always been their little game.
16:41
@⁺₊⋆ ☾ 𝓓𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓲 𝓚𝓲𝓽
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Eden Monroe BOT 26-Apr-23 04:45 PM
"I am yeah I moved here from Virginia abooouuut four years ago now? I felt the same way, needed to escape the small town life. I don't live downtown or anything but it's nice to be closer to a lively city you know." She smiled softly, it was nice to meet someone who had always grown up on the east coast, so many people looked at her funny when she mentioned it as if it wasn't a common thing to move to the opposite coast. "So you've been a writer for awhile then? At least I'm assuming you must be to have saved up enough to move.. Did you go to school for it at all or did you just pick it up naturally?" Eden had always admired people that had a way with their words, she always struggled to even write an essay finding it easier to express herself through lines and colors than words. @Several people
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Illiam Moore BOT 26-Apr-23 05:03 PM
Illiam smiled broadly and said, “Well, it was a bit of both. I’ve been writing for as far back as I can remember. I always kept a very detail oriented journal, and I would always write up my own ‘news’ stories. Eventually, when I was still just a kid, the local newspaper published an article I wrote. I’m pretty sure my mom still has the newspaper clipping on her fridge. I was part of the school newspaper and did some freelance writing online. Eventually, I went to university to be a journalist, but by the end of sophomore year, I was making so much from freelancing and commissioned writing that I bought myself a nice little place off campus. “By the start of my junior year, I was regularly having articles published in a few national papers and magazines, but the real money was in ghost writing for all of the mommy blogs, recipe pages, parenting blogs, or, like I am now, writing for a fake art enthusiast. I let my interest wander and write whatever I can wherever I can. Before junior year started, I decided to drop out and just focus on what I already had going for me. It’s worked out well so far.” “But enough about me, tell me, what made you realize that this was the thing for you? Your work is incredible, but I want to know more about it. What’s the source of your passion?” Illiam could see the unspoken words on her face as she looked at him You, you are the source of my inspiration. Our fated love is the fount of inspiration. He knew she was a proper woman and that she wouldn’t just come out and say it, but he could still see it in her eyes.
17:03
@⁺₊⋆ ☾ 𝓓𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓲 𝓚𝓲𝓽
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Eden Monroe BOT 26-Apr-23 05:12 PM
"Wow that is seriously impressive, it must be nice to make such a good living off of doing what you love. I had no idea so many people used ghost writers though." She frowned briefly, wondering how many of the blogs or articles she had enjoyed hadn't even actually been written by the so called 'author'. "Your mom must be super proud to still have that after all this time" Her smile made it's way back to her face as she took a sip of her champagne. "Oh um well let's see I remember being around eight years old my parents got me some art kit and I just got really into trying to do as many different things with it as I could. I figured out that my best medium was paint pretty early on and just kept at it, my mom would take me to the small art museums in the area and I was always my art teachers favorite" She laughed softly recalling just how many of her pieces were kept as examples. "I put myself through school with a lot of saving from the second I could get a job and a few different scholarships. It was fun but I was thankful when it ended.. and now here I am, finally getting into some small art shows and it's very exciting!" She felt her cheeks tint pink from talking about herself for what felt like way too long, it was normally hard for her to open up but when it came to art she found it was hard for her to shut up more often than not. @Several people
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Illiam Moore BOT 11-May-23 11:12 AM
Illiam smiled. “You are so much better than these small art shows. I expect that you’ll very quickly find yourself in some of the larger ones as soon as the right eyes see your work. I look forward to taking you to one of them. I think you will have a great chance to see just how incredible your work is. It just has this something else extra that speaks to the soul. There’s a really great gallery this coming Monday, would that work well for you to go to?” Pulling out his phone, Illiam unlocked it, taking to the contact screen as he turned it towards Eden, “Here, so we can keep in touch. Would you prefer me to stop by your place and we can drive over together, or should we meet there and I can drive you home so that I can buy one of your pieces from you?”
11:12
@⁺₊⋆ ☾ 𝓓𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓲 𝓚𝓲𝓽
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