#Electronic Message Centers

[aacesignco]

Electronic Message Centers: Revolutionizing Business Signage

In today’s fast-paced, technology-driven world, businesses are constantly seeking innovative ways to capture attention and communicate effectively with their audience. Electronic Message Centers (EMCs) have emerged as a dynamic solution to meet these needs, offering versatility, engagement, and real-time updates. This blog delves into the benefits and applications of EMCs, and why they are becoming an essential tool for modern businesses.

What are Electronic Message Centers?

Electronic Message Centers are digital displays that use LED technology to showcase messages, advertisements, and information. Unlike traditional static signs, EMCs can be programmed to display a variety of content, including text, images, animations, and videos. This flexibility allows businesses to convey multiple messages and update their content instantly based on current promotions, events, or important announcements.

Benefits of Electronic Message Centers

Dynamic Content Display: One of the most significant advantages of EMCs is their ability to display dynamic content. Businesses can easily change messages, images, and videos to keep their audience engaged. This capability is particularly useful for promoting special offers, sales events, or new products. The ability to rotate messages ensures that your display remains fresh and relevant, capturing the attention of passersby.

Real-Time Updates: EMCs allow for real-time updates, which is crucial for businesses that need to communicate timely information. For instance, a restaurant can update its menu specials or operating hours, while a retail store can announce flash sales or store events. The ease of updating content means businesses can respond quickly to changing conditions or customer needs.

Enhanced Visibility: The bright, high-resolution displays of EMCs ensure high visibility, even in low-light conditions or adverse weather. This makes them highly effective for attracting attention from a distance and standing out in a crowded marketplace. Their ability to display vibrant colors and moving graphics further enhances their impact.

Cost-Effective Advertising: While the initial investment in an EMC may be higher than traditional signage, the long-term benefits often outweigh the costs. With EMCs, businesses can avoid the recurring expenses of printing and installing new signs. The flexibility to change messages digitally means that businesses can adapt their advertising strategies without additional costs.

Increased Engagement: Interactive features and engaging content displayed on EMCs can drive customer interaction. For example, businesses can run social media promotions, interactive polls, or contests that encourage audience participation. This not only enhances customer engagement but also fosters a sense of community around the brand.

Applications of Electronic Message Centers

Retail Stores: Retailers can use EMCs to showcase promotions, sales, and new arrivals. The ability to update content frequently ensures that customers are always informed about the latest offers. Additionally, EMCs can be used to highlight customer testimonials or loyalty program updates.

Restaurants: For restaurants, EMCs can display daily specials, menu items, and nutritional information. The visual appeal of moving graphics can entice customers and create a more inviting atmosphere.

Educational Institutions: Schools and universities can use EMCs to communicate important announcements, event schedules, and emergency alerts. The ability to display educational content and news updates helps keep students, staff, and visitors informed.

Event Venues: Event venues can utilize EMCs to promote upcoming events, ticket availability, and venue information. The versatility of EMCs allows for creative and eye-catching displays that enhance the overall event experience.

Public Information: EMCs in public spaces can provide important information such as weather updates, public transportation schedules, and emergency alerts. Their visibility ensures that critical information reaches a wide audience effectively.

Conclusion

Electronic Message Centers represent a significant advancement in signage technology, offering businesses a powerful tool to communicate dynamically and effectively. With their ability to display engaging content, provide real-time updates, and enhance visibility, EMCs are an invaluable asset for any business looking to make a strong impression and stay connected with their audience. As technology continues to evolve, the potential applications and benefits of EMCs will only grow, solidifying their role as a cornerstone of modern business signage. For more details visit our website: www.a-acesignco.com

[kesslersigncompany]

Electronic message centers are sharper, smarter, more versatile, and more affordable than ever. Available in vibrant full color LED with user friendly software. Get it with the help of Kessler Sign Company.

[truth4ourfreedom]

GEORGE SOROS SPENT $117M TO ELECT AND CONTROL LEFTIST DAs AND PROSECUTERS!!!

From: Judicial Watch

Augusta 14, 2024

Soros Spends $117 Million to Elect, Control Leftist County Prosecutors Throughout U.S.

In a scheme to promote a radical leftwing overhaul of the U.S. justice system, billionaire George Soros has spent about $117 million in the last few years to elect then control dozens of liberal county prosecutors throughout the nation, a new report reveals. Once elected the prosecutors, typically known as district attorneys who represent the government in criminal cases, meet regularly with representatives from Soros-funded nonprofits that coordinate and manage the chief officials responsible for upholding and enforcing the law in their respective districts. The Soros machine orders prosecutors to practice leftist policies that are soft on crime, target police and political opponents. The district attorneys are also directed not to enforce certain laws such as those protecting children from chemical castration and genital mutilation, procedures justified by the left as “life-saving gender-affirming” for transgender individuals.

The extraordinary details of the robust Soros effort to overhaul the nation’s justice system by embedding leftist prosecutors throughout the country were uncovered during a year-long investigation by the Media Research Center (MRS). Dedicated to documenting and combating the falsehoods and censorship of the news media, the Washington D.C.-based group examined thousands of pages of documents that show a “shocking level” of control by the Soros-funded nonprofits over many county prosecutors. “The Soros machine sets their policies and priorities, staffs their offices with hand-picked leftists, dictates media narratives, lobbies government officials and perverts the American justice system,” the MRC probe found. The investigation determined that the Soros enterprise dedicated at least $40 million to help elect 126 prosecutors and an additional $77,663,316 to the leftist nonprofits that issue their marching orders once they are in office.

MRC used public records requests to obtain 7,785 pages of internal communications from dozens of Soros-backed prosecutors and examined official files as well as electronic mail, text messages, chats, and other communications. The documents expose how the Hungarian billionaire’s groups directed the liberal prosecutors to manipulate laws involving drugs, abortion, illegal immigration, election integrity, capital punishment and even childhood sex changes. One of the key groups directing the local prosecutors is Fair and Justice Prosecution (FJP), a nonprofit committed to promoting a justice system grounded in fairness, equity and compassion. “Great strides have been made in promoting justice reforms that recognize that prior ‘tough on crime’ and incarceration-driven practices have not always resulted in safer or healthier communities,” according to FJP. The group is a sponsored project of the Tides Center, another Soros-funded conglomerate dedicated to advancing social justice. “FJP held at least 51 private meetings and published 33 formal statements and pledges that contained signatures from prosecutors within its network between 2021 and 2022 alone,” the MRC report states.

Examples include 508 communications—emails, virtual meetings, in-person conversations—between San Francisco District Attorney Chesa Boudin’s office and FJP during an 18-month period, averaging at least one communication a day. Five county prosecutors in Texas worked so closely that they created a shared group chat to strategize on refusing to enforce statutes that ran afoul of their leftist political views. Combined the elected officials represent over seven million Texans and the documents reviewed by MRC show they strategized to undermine political opponents, including the state’s Republican attorney general. “At least 30 percent of the U.S. population currently lives under the boot of the Soros prosecutors who were pressured to sign pledges vowing to adhere to various Soros priorities,” the report says, adding that the “Soros machine” arranged dozens of joint statements and pledges signed by 123 of the 126 prosecutors vowing to adhere to the leftist billionaire’s priorities.

Besides embedding like-minded county prosecutors nationwide, the records obtained by MRC show that Soros also spent at least $35 million to support anti-police groups and causes in one year alone after George Floyd’s death. His beloved FJP defended the violence and racial unrest triggered by the Black Lives Matter (BLM) and Antifa movements, accusing the American criminal justice system of being systemically racist. Soros’s Open Society Foundations (OSF) also dedicated $220 million for racial justice and black empowerment in the aftermath of Floyd’s death.

[totchipanda]

22 kanej 😳

(oh I am so mad because I started writing a response and saved it as a draft but it is not here! Starting from scratch I guess.)

22. A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party.

Do you want to come over? The boys are out tonight.

They so rarely had a chance to be alone at her house, so Kaz jumped at it. He showed up with nothing but himself - no laptop, no books, no drinks and no snacks. Inej had put out a couple bowls of snacks, as she usually did when he was over, but beyond that it was just them, the couch, and a wall of movies.

She put one on, a drama set during the Ravkan civil war, before settling next to him with the blanket that she favoured thrown over their laps. At a simple question, he agreed and she curled into his side, tucking her feet up so that her legs leaned over into his. His arm was behind her, hand curled over her waist, and to be honest he couldn't focus on the movie.

For starters, he'd seen it before, and his memory of it was sufficient. Mostly, his attention was taken up by her. Her warmth, her gentle weight, the spill of her hair brushing against his wrist. He didn't want to watch a movie, he wanted to spend every second on her.

As if she could read his mind, half an hour into the film she shifted a little, turning her face up towards him. "Can I kiss you?" she asked.

"Yes," he agreed, grateful because he'd been planning ahead to ask her during a particular scene.

Inej let the blanket fall away as she sat up and twisted to face him. Her hand went to the center of his chest, another point of warmth through his shirt. Her lips touched his so gently, almost as if she expected him to push her away. True, it had happened before, more than once, but his affliction was a little better now, sometimes for several minutes. Plenty of time to kiss her.

And kiss her he did. He was hungry for her, greedy, and it seemed she felt the same as their kiss deepened. He barely heard the movie anymore as she pressed close, her tongue against his. He was aware of the press of her breast against his arm, the way she leaned into him. Her hand had moved from his chest to the back of his head, sliding through the strands of his hair.

Kaz tightened his hand on her waist and reached out with the other one, laying it on her knee. Come closer, he would have said had he not been so occupied with kissing her - she'd drunk some fruit juice minutes earlier, and he could taste it faintly - so he tried to say it with his hands instead. His fingers hooked at the back of her thigh, pulling, pulling - and she followed, her leg going across his lap as she shifted onto it.

Now this was more like it. He was elated. Both hands slid up her back, over the sweater she wore but shifting it with his hands. Her fingers were at his throat, slipping the first of his shirt buttons open.

The sound of the electronic lock at the front door was all the warning they had that her housemates were home earlier than expected - he assumed, as it had barely been an hour between her message and this moment. Inej was out of his lap in a heartbeat, settling back at his side and reaching for the blanket again. It was back over them, covering them from the waist down before she leaned back, and slipped her hand onto his thigh.

The door opened and the boys stepped inside along with a gust of cold air, complaining about the venue they'd gone to being evacuated just as they'd pulled up with sirens wailing in the distance.

"Oh! Sorry Kaz, didn't realize you were here," Wylan apologized as he came into the room and saw that Inej was not alone.

He gave them a greeting and did not miss the sharp look in Jesper's eyes as he took the two of them in. He turned his attention back to the movie before anyone asked any more questions, but he was very distracted by the hand on his leg.

Thankfully the boys took themselves upstairs not long after, and after twenty or so minutes of nothing, he did say that he should get going. He couldn't blame her for not picking up where they'd left off once they were alone again; this part of their relationship was new, and he didn't want to put it on display anymore than she did.

Inej walked him to the door and he bent to kiss her in farewell. She practically melted against him and he wished they didn't have to separate right now. "Friday," he said, and it wasn't a question. They'd been together every weekend since Nachtspel and he wasn't going to give that up.

"Friday," she agreed and pressed one more kiss to his lips. This one lingered in a way that was full of promise. "Good night, Kaz."

Kiss Prompts

[blakeswritingimagines]

Life With Yandere Hanzo Hasashi

Every waking moment is occupied with thoughts of you; your health, and your well-being, he is watching you constantly, and thinking of you, from the moment you leave until the moment you come back. He wants nothing in this god-forsaken world, except for you. He wants you to love him, he will do whatever it takes to keep you, no matter the cost.

The life of a yandere is intense and consuming. Every thought, every desire, every action revolves around his darling. He lives for you, and you alone. His whole existence is centered on adoring, protecting, and possessing you. His heart races when you smile at him, and he would do anything to make you happy. It is a constant battle between his need to control and his need to prove his love.

A yandere is a complex being. His love is strong and deep, but it is often accompanied by jealousy and possessiveness. He struggles to balance his need to protect you and his jealousy when other people get close. He desires to know everything about you, and he might become upset and even violent if he feels like you're not giving him enough attention or if he senses that you are keeping something from him.

Being a yandere, he would constantly worry about your safety and well-being. He would always want to be near you, to ensure your protection and keep an eye on you. He would get extremely jealous if you even talk to someone else, fearing that you might like them more than him. He would obsess over every detail about you, from your favorite songs and movies to your daily routine. The depths of his love and obsession are truly endless.

Every morning he would make sure that you wake up to a warm and delicious breakfast. Then he would accompany you throughout the day, making sure you are always within his sight and reach.

During the day he would always keep his phone close, ready to answer your every call, text, or message immediately, no matter what he was doing at the time.

In his free time, he would probably do anything that you enjoy doing: Shopping, watching movies, or just simply enjoying each other's company. In the evening, he would make sure to make you a delicious and elegant dinner.

A typical day for him with his darling would be filled with constant attention and affection. He would wake up early and prepare breakfast for you. Then, he would drive you to work and spend the entire day thinking about you. When you come home, he would have dinner ready and wait for you eagerly. After that, he would want to spend every moment with you, often showering you with gifts and affection. He would want to talk for hours, listen to your day, and just be close to you.

During the nighttime, he would be at his most clingy and needy. He would want to be as close as possible to you, holding onto you tightly, and often wrapping his arms and legs around you, in an attempt to be completely enveloped in your presence. He would probably spend hours just staring into your eyes, studying every detail of your face, and finding new things to love about you.

During the night, he would probably enjoy spending time with you, talking and cuddling until you fall asleep. He would then watch you sleep for hours, just admiring your beauty. If you have nightmares, he would do his best to comfort you, holding you close and vowing to kill anyone who tries to hurt you. He would be the first to wake up in the morning just so he can start his day serving you with love and adoration.

His days and nights, his every thought, and every breath, everything is dedicated to you and you alone. His whole existence would revolve around you.

Yanderes in general, love to pamper their darling with gifts, and this one is no exception. On your birthdays and anniversaries, he would go above and beyond to give you the best gift possible. Whether it be jewelry, clothes, or even expensive electronics, he would spend hours and hours trying to think of the best way to show his love for you.

If you work, you would often find him randomly visiting you at lunch, just to spend some time with you, and make sure you're alright.

He would probably spend a lot of his free time just observing you, studying every move and expression you make. He would make sure to remember every single detail about you, from your favorite foods and colors to your little quirks and habits. He would buy you whatever you wanted. He wouldn’t mind if you asked for his entire bank account. After all, his main priority is to make sure you are happy.

Being a yandere, he would also be rather possessive of you, constantly wanting to know where you are and what you are doing at all times. He would likely demand that you share your location with him, so he can always know where you are. He might also have a habit of checking your phone and messages, just to make sure you are not talking to other men. He would not hesitate to intervene in any conversation he deems inappropriate or threatening to your relationship. He might even go as far as to isolate you from your friends and family, to keep you all for himself.

He would plan special dates and surprises for you, just to keep things fresh and exciting. He would even go to the extremes, like taking you to an extremely expensive place and hiring an entire staff just to serve you.

He would definitely be very protective of you and your boundaries. He would not tolerate anyone who tries to cross a line or disrespect you in any way.

He would also hate it if you ever hid anything from him. He would want to know everything, no matter how small or unimportant it may seem, to him - secrets are unacceptable.

He would constantly compliment you, telling you that you are beautiful, smart, and perfect in every way. He would encourage you and support you in all your endeavors, always believing in your talents and skills. If you have any insecurities, he will try his best to ease them and make you see your own worth. He would remind you every day how much he loves you.

[kikiswriting7]

Take a Chance ✵ JJK ✵ MYG - 5

✵ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

✵Summary: Y/N just move across the world to start her University. She is paired with a roommate who is complete social butterfly and makes a bet, Y/N needs to take more chances. And at the hint of her new found friend, her social and romantic life take a dramatic turn.

✵Tags/Warnings: Smut, College AU, red flag, sexual tension. angst, dirty talking, drinking, friends with benefits, full of cliches, friends to lover, temptation

✵Notes: Hello! Now that I somewhat have a vacation time and I could not stop thinking about this, my fingers slipped so here goes another chaper! And if you want to be added to the tag list and be notified when theres a new chapter please sign up on this link!

lots of love, Kiki

CHAPTER 5 - Guiding lights and shadows

The week was a relentless sprint, each day bleeding into the next in a haze of exhaustion.With finals approaching, it feels like every teacher is piling on extra work, making the days even more grueling. The highlights are lunch with the boys and the lingering memory of that kiss, which I am trying not to overanalyze. My heart is skipping a beat each time Yoongi’s name is appearing on my phone with a new message about a show or something he’s done. The conversation is always light and definitely far off from the moment we shared the previous weekend. So when he texts today asking if I want to join him in the city center to shop for headphones, I can’t resist. The stores are staying open later than usual, which works perfectly—I just need my finance teacher to let us out on time.

As the clock is ticking toward the end of the period, I am finding myself glancing at it repeatedly, willing it to move faster. When the bell finally rings, I am quickly gathering my things and rushing out, excitement bubbling inside me.

Yoongi is saying he doesn’t want anything serious. He has put the brakes on whatever we have, and I don’t understand why I am still hung up on him, other than the fact that he is clearly my type. When I arrive at the city center station, I spot Yoongi leaning against a lamppost, his gaze focused on his phone. He looks up as I approach, a small smile on his lips.

"Hey," I greet, slightly breathless from my hurry.

"Hey," he replies, his eyes lighting up. "Ready to find some headphones?"

"Absolutely," I say, matching his smile.

We are wandering through the busy streets, popping into various electronics stores and comparing different models. Yoongi is in his element, enthusiastically testing out headphones and discussing their pros and cons. I am admiring his passion for even the smallest things.

Eventually, he finds a pair he likes, and we make our way out of the store. The sky has darkened, with city lights casting a warm glow on the streets. We walk side by side, our conversation flowing effortlessly from one topic to another.

"Want to grab a drink?" Yoongi suggests. “We can get a bottle of something and take a walk by the beach?”

"Sure," I agree, glad for the chance to spend more time with him, though slightly concerned about the growing chill. The days have been warmer, but the nights, with the cold sea breeze, are frigid.

We stop by a nearby convenience store before heading back to our neighborhood bus, hoping to reach the beach faster. I can’t help but steal glances at Yoongi. Even in silence, his presence is comforting.

The city noises are fading as we reach the beach, the gentle sound of waves crashing against the sand taking over. We walk to the end of the beach, where a lighthouse stands amidst a stretch of rocks. It isn’t a long distance, but it feels removed from the city’s bustle. We drink from one of the bottles of wine we have bought, and conversation picks up again. Yoongi talks about his week and how he is grateful that his grade is based mainly on projects rather than exams—a luxury I am wishing for.

“I’m definitely a hands-on learner. It’s not my forte to just sit and absorb a subject,” I say as we reach the rocky path at the end of the beach. “So even though I have just started, I can’t wait for it to be over.”

“There’s definitely a strange feeling when you start,” Yoongi agrees. “Being away from home, studying in a different language... you grow up fast.”

His words are resonating with me. “Yeah,” I say softly, gazing out at the dark, rippling sea. “It’s like you’re forced to figure out who you are, but it’s hard to keep up.”

We are quiet for a while, sipping from the bottle of wine and watching the waves. A shiver is running down my spine, snapping me out of my thoughts. The cold is more biting than I’ve realized. I am stuffing my hands into my jacket pockets, desperate for warmth.

“You know, being cold is just a state of mind,” Yoongi says, breaking the silence. I shoot him a skeptical glance while blowing hot air over my hands.

“Yeah, sure. Try living your whole life in a warm country and then talk about cold being a state of mind,” I huff, making him chuckle. He takes my hands in his, warming them with his touch.

The contact is light, but it sends a jolt through me. Yoongi subtly moves closer, focusing on the sea ahead to distract from the growing warmth between us. “It’s strange how much can change in such a short time,” he muses, taking another sip from the wine bottle before handing it to me.

I also drink from it, feeling the warmth spread through me, but it pales compared to the heat between us. “You know, I never thought I’d be here, sitting with you like this,” I admit, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Dice…” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. It is as if everything suddenly crashes into his mind, and he pulls away, leaving me missing his warmth immediately.

I swallow hard, feeling the effects of the wine as my words tumble out. “I’ve never had a relationship before. But I think what’s important is doing things because you want to, not because someone told you to.” I look back at the sparkling city. “I don’t want to date someone who buys me flowers because they feel obligated. I want to live in the moment and enjoy whatever life throws at me.” I shrug, avoiding his gaze. I notice he is nodding slightly and taking a bigger sip from the bottle.

I turn to him to take my turn and realize it is almost empty. Have we drunk that much? I take a sip, feeling his eyes still on me. A smile starts forming on my lips. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but Gabi is right. I just want to roll the dice and see where it lands.”

He chuckles, his gaze lingering on my lips. I find myself unable to look away from the softness of his gaze and the smile playing on his face. The world around us seems to fade, leaving just the two of us in this moment that feels both exhilarating and intensely intimate. My heart is pounding, almost drowning out the distant city sounds and crashing waves.

I try to maintain my composure, but Yoongi’s gaze makes it difficult. Thankfully, the darkness hides my blush. “You know,” I say, my voice wavering slightly, “sometimes it’s easier to talk about things when you’re... a little tipsy.”

Yoongi’s smile widens as he wraps his arm around my shoulder. His touch is warm and comforting against the cold night air. I lean my head on him. “Yeah, I get that,” he says softly. “Sometimes it’s easier to say what you really feel when you’re not overthinking everything.”

We are sharing a moment of silence, just enjoying the closeness, the intimacy of our shared warmth against the cold. I feel like I could stay here forever, lost in this strange, captivating bubble we are creating.

“Dice,” Yoongi says, his voice barely more than a murmur. He tilts his head slightly, his eyes searching mine. “If you really want to roll the dice... what would you want to happen?”

I meet his gaze, and the question is hanging in the air between us. My pulse is quickening as I struggle to find the right words. “I guess,” I start slowly, “I’d want to take chances. Live in the moment.” I frown. Who would say that I would be thinking like that.

“What is it?” he asks, confusion laced in his expression.

“If you tell Gabi that I said that, I will have to kill you.” I chuckle.

Yoongi’s eyes widen in surprise, but he can’t hide the amused smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, so it’s that kind of secret?” he teases, his tone light but his gaze still intense.

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Yeah, definitely. I don’t need her making fun of me for being all... introspective and sentimental. Especially when it makes her right.”

Yoongi chuckles, and his laughter seems to dissolve the last remnants of tension between us. “I promise, your secret is safe with me. I wouldn’t dare spill it, especially not to Gabi.”

He leans back slightly, but his hand remains gently clasping mine. The touch is both grounding and electrifying. “So, you want to take chances and live in the moment,” he says more as a statement than a question, his voice softening.

I look down at our entwined fingers, feeling the warmth from his touch seeping into me. The silence is comforting, filled only with the gentle sounds of the waves and the distant hum of the city. Yoongi’s thumb is tracing small, soothing circles on the back of my hand, and I find myself leaning in slightly, drawn to the intimacy between us.

“Do you want to know something?” he asks suddenly, his eyes locking onto mine with a mix of vulnerability and determination.

I nod, my heart pounding in my chest. “Yeah, tell me.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, his expression serious but soft. “I don’t want to overthink things either. I’ve been trying to figure out what I want, but... being here with you, right now, it feels right. And I think maybe that’s enough for now.”

The sincerity in his voice makes my breath catch, and I can see the same longing mirrored in his eyes. The distance between us feels like it is shrinking with every passing second. I take a small, deliberate breath, feeling the weight of his words and the promise they hold.

Yoongi’s gaze remains fixed on mine, and I see his eyes soften with a mix of relief and affection. He leans in, his face close enough that I can feel his warm breath against my skin. The world seems to slow down, the only sounds the gentle rush of the waves and our quickened breaths.

Yoongi’s face is inches from mine, his warm breath mingling with the cool night air. Our eyes lock, and in that shared gaze, I can see a mix of hope and vulnerability. His lips are soft and inviting, and as he leans in, I feel a flutter of anticipation.

When our lips finally meet, the kiss is gentle and exploratory. There is no rush or intensity—just a tender connection that speaks volumes in its simplicity. I can taste the faint, tangy flavor of the cheap wine on his lips.

Yoongi’s lips are warm against mine, moving with a soft, deliberate rhythm. He doesn’t press too hard or deepen the kiss, instead keeping it light and delicate. His kiss is like a whisper, full of unspoken promises and gentle affection. I can feel the slight, hesitant brush of his lips, a caress rather than a demand.

The sensation is comforting, almost comforting in its tenderness. His hand, still holding mine, is providing a reassuring warmth that makes the kiss feel even more intimate. The touch of his fingers against my skin is gentle, almost as if he is afraid of breaking the spell of the moment.

When we finally pull away, our foreheads are resting together, and I can see the soft smile playing on Yoongi’s lips.

Yoongi’s arms are wrapping around me, drawing me into a close, comforting embrace. We stay like that for a while, our bodies pressed together, with the city lights twinkling in the distance and the cool sea breeze gently brushing against our faces. The night feels suspended in time, a quiet and intimate pause amidst the chaos of our lives.

His warmth is seeping through my jacket, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest is a soothing rhythm against mine. We sit in silence, simply existing together in the stillness, the soft rustling of the sea and the distant hum of the city our only companions.

The kiss lingers between us, a tender moment. It is soft, fleeting—a brief spark that doesn’t demand anything more than what it is.

Yoongi’s gaze remains on the city, his expression contemplative but relaxed. His hand is resting lightly on my back, a casual touch that speaks of comfort rather than commitment. I lean my head against his shoulder, feeling a sense of calm wash over me as we share this peaceful moment.

“Cold isn’t so bad when you’re not alone,” he says softly, breaking the silence with a quiet, reflective tone.

I smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah, it’s not so bad.”

We remain there, side by side, wrapped in each other’s warmth and the tranquility of the night. The city lights continue to shimmer in the distance, a backdrop to our shared silence. It is a moment of connection, open-ended and unspoken, leaving the future uncertain but the present moment perfectly still.

The library is unusually quiet for a Saturday morning. The usual hum of activity is replaced by the soft rustling of pages and the faint tapping of keyboards. Eli, Gabi, and I have claimed our favorite study spot near the windows, the table covered in books, notes, and highlighters. Despite the serene setting, there is a palpable tension in the air, especially around Eli.

Ever since the club night last week, something has shifted. Eli is seeming distracted, her usual bubbly demeanor replaced with a more subdued, thoughtful one. I keep my head down, focusing on my notes, trying to ignore the undercurrent of awkwardness.

 “So, Eli,” Gabi says, breaking the silence. “Any updates on the marketing project?”

Eli snaps out of her thoughts, blinking rapidly. “Oh, um, yeah. I think we’re almost done. Just need to finalize a few things.”

Gabi nods, looking satisfied. “Good to know.” She drops her head on her books. “I’m seriously stressing about this test.”

Eli forces a smile. “Yeah, me too.”

The exchange is polite but strained. I can feel Gabi’s curious eyes darting between us, sensing the awkwardness but not pushing for answers, even though we probably knew the answer to it. Yoongi. I also definitely needed to keep quiet as I have also been keeping things from my friends.

Just as the silence threatens to swallow us again, Jungkook and Taehyung arrive, their presence like a breath of fresh air. Jungkook’s warm smile and Taehyung’s energetic demeanor instantly lighten the mood.

“Hey, everyone,” Jungkook greets, pulling up a chair beside me and resting his arm on the back of it. “Hope we’re not interrupting.” He offers the brightest smile that doesn’t fail to bring up the mood.

“Not at all,” Gabi replies, her eyes lighting up. “We could use the company.”

Taehyung plops down next to Eli, grinning. “So, what are we studying today?”

“Marketing,” Eli answers, her smile returning a little. “Big test and deadline coming up.”

“Fun,” Taehyung says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Good thing I’m here for moral support.”

As we settle into our study session, the atmosphere gradually becomes more relaxed. Jungkook and Taehyung’s playful banter helps ease some of the tension, and even Eli seems to loosen up a bit. However, my phone buzzes incessantly, a series of messages from Jimin lighting up the screen.

Jimin: "Hey, what are you up to?"

Jimin: "Studying again? On a Saturday?"

Jimin: "C'mon, let's do something fun!"

I sigh and quickly type a response.

Me: "I really need to study, Jimin. Maybe later?"

But Jimin, being Jimin, was relentless.

Jimin: "Pleeeeease? I'm bored out of my mind."

I try to ignore the messages and focus on my notes, but my phone buzzes again.

Jimin: "Fine, if you're going to ignore me, I'm just going to complain in the group chat"

A few seconds later, the group chat litghts up with Jimin's messages.

Jimin: "Why are all my friends so boring? It's Saturday! Someone come save me from this boredom!"

Gabi snorts, reading the messages over her own phone. "Sounds like Jimin's having a meltdown."

I roll my eyes, a small smile playing on my lips. "He's just being dramatic."

"Isn't he always?" Jungkook says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

As we continue studying, the group chat buzzes with more messages, most of them teasing Jimin for his dramatics. Even Jungkook and Taehyung join in.

Taehyung: "Jimin, maybe you should try studying. It's very stimulating."

Jungkook: "Or you could come help us. Plenty of fun to go around here."

Yoongi: “Don’t you have a test to study for?”

Jimin: "Ugh, you guys are the worst."

I chuckle at the exchange. It was comforting to have these people around. I am deep down glad of the friend group we formed. I don’t know how I would’ve survived so far without them. 

Eli catches my eye and gives me a small, appreciative smile, as if to say thanks for not pressing her about her unease. I return the smile, but feeling the heaviest feeling in my gut from also holding stuff from her.

After Jungkook and Taehyung joined us, I notice Eli glancing at her phone more frequently, her fingers twitching as if she was expecting a message. Each time it buzzed, she looked both hopeful and anxious, her eyes darting quickly to the screen and then away.

"Everything okay, Eli?" Taehyung asks gently, clearly clueless about all the slightly akward day we had so far. 

She nods quickly, too quickly. "Yeah, just... family stuff."

He nods back, not entirely convinced but clearly willing to let it go for now. 

Throughout the afternoon, I can’t shake the feeling that something is off. Yoongi's absence is unusual. He was usually a steady presence, especially during our study sessions. Even though quiet and burried in his computer. During the week he acted like nothing had happened after he dropped us off at the apartment. But I guess last night might have drawn him away.

As we take a break, Taehyung stretched and glanced at me. "By the way, have you heard from Yoongi today?"

I shake my head. "No, I haven't. It's weird that he's not here."

Taehyung leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and shruggs. "Maybe he needed some time alone. You know how he can be."

Eli's face tightens at the mention of Yoongi, and she quickly looks down at her notes, pretending to be absorbed in her work. The look on Gabi’s face came and went like lightning. She also saw how she reacted. And the quick glance we shared afterwords was enough to tell me we were going to be talking about this later. 

"Yeah, maybe," I say, giving Taehyung a small smile. "He does like his alone time."

As the afternoon wore on, the group started to leave one by one. Leaving me alone with Jungkook at the library. He claims that he knows the subject by heart and that he already finished his part for the group project of the class. He was lucky. Unfortunetly the girl who decided to team up with me convinced me she was hardworking and that we would be done with it in no time. All lies as she would never show up to any of the meetings I tried to set up with her about this damn project.  “I can help you if you want.” Jungkook says looking up from his phone. “I hear the wheels turning inside your head from here” I quickly throw him an annoyed look. “I just feel so overwhelmed. How am I supposed to present this with someone who didn’t even write a single word” 

“Well she did write like 3 paragraphs?” He tries to comfort, but it doesn’t work.

“Yeah, that I had to re-write because it didn’t make any sense.” I can feel my shoulders drop as the realization that it will be my first failed report in school. Great.  Jungkook reaches over and gently pats my shoulder. "Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. You're smart, and you'll figure it out. Maybe we can brainstorm some ideas together?"

I sighed, appreciating his constant attempts to lift my spirits. "Thanks, JK. I might take you up on that."

The library is starting to empty out, the quiet atmosphere becoming almost too peaceful. I glance at the clock, noting that we still had a few hours before closing time. I decided to take a short break and walk over to the vending machine to get a snack. Jungkook follows, his presence comforting in the silence.

As I feed coins into the machine, Jungkook leans against the wall, his eyes fixed on me. "So, what's really bothering you? I mean, besides the project and Eli."

I hesitate, not sure if I was ready to unload everything that had been on my mind. But Jungkook's earnest expression convinced me to open up, at least a little.

"It's just... everything feels off lately," I admitt. "Eli's been acting weird, because… well, you probably know why.” I have to bite my own tongue for not spilling out that Yoongi and I made out. Not once, but twice now. ”And this project is stressing me out. I feel like I'm drowning in everything."

Jungkook nods thoughtfully. "Yeah, I noticed Eli's been on edge... But you don't have to carry all this by yourself, you know? We're all here to help."

I give him a grateful smile, feeling a bit lighter. "Thanks. It helps to hear that."

We returnto our table, and I resume my work with Jungkook's support. His presence made it easier to focus, and I manage to make some progress on the project. We bounce ideas off each other, and I start to feel more confident about the upcoming presentation.

Just as I was starting to feel a bit better, my phone buzzes again. It was Jimin, of course.

Jimin: "Im still broed. Seriousljy, can't you come hangt out with mwe?"

I chuckled, shaking my head. He clearly had already his share of drinks tonight by the looks of it. "Jimin really doesn't know when to stop, does he?" I show the phone to Jk who is peeking above my shoulder.

Jungkook laughs. "Nope, but that's part of his charm. Maybe we can do something fun later, after you've finished studying."

"Maybe," I say, glancing at the time again. "I just need to wrap this up first."

As we continue working, I can’t help but think about Yoongi. His absence was gnawing at me, and I wondered what could have driven him away. Eli's reaction to his name had been telling, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions. I decide to check my phone once more and noticed that Yoongi had been active in the group chat earlier, but hadn't sent any messages since. 

The evening progresses, and the library starts to fill with the low hum of closing announcements and the gradual packing up of students. By the time we wrap up, I feel much better about the project, thanks in no small part to Jungkook’s help.

“Ready to head out?" he asks, slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

"Yeah," I said, feeling a mix of relief and lingering stress. "Thanks for staying with me."

"Anytime," he replied with a warm smile. "And remember, you're not alone. We can figure all this out together."

We exit the library doors, blinking in the sudden twilight. The air is crisp, carrying the scent of the faint tang of the approaching sea. Jungkook stretched beside me, his phone clutched in his hand.

"Well, that was productive," he says, more to himself than to me. "Hopefully, your teammate will magically appear before the presentation."

I offer a weak smile. "Yeah, hopefully."

Suddenly, my phone rings in my pocket. My heart leapes – maybe it was Yoongi, finally reaching out. I pull it out, a smile faltering as I see the name on the screen: Gabi. I glance at Jungkook, who was still stretching and checking his phone. I pick up the phone with a soft smile on my lips. Jimin must have gotten into her head about going out and now its her turn to bother me. 

“Hey thank God you picked up,” her voice is shaky at the other end of the line “I need your help. Jimin’s hurt. Can you come over right now? I’m worried.” “What do you mean?” I ask her,  frowning.  Jungkook notices my sudden change in demeanor. “Everything okay?”

My eyes lock with Jungkooks as he is quick to drop the attention from this own phone. 

My breath catches. Something happened to Jimin? He had texted me not long ago about going to hang out with him. I feel a rush of panic and concern. “We came to this new bar and Jimin got into a fight. Hes not looking too good. I’ll send you our location.” She rushes and before I get the chance to reply she hangs up.

“I—Gabi says Jimin’s hurt,” I say, my voice tight with anxiety. “We have to go.”

Jungkook’s expression shifts to concern. “Do you know where they are?”

I agree quickly, looking at the directions to the bar. “Yes, she just sent me their location.”

We hurry through the darkening streets, each step heavy with worry. I try calling Gabi, but her phone went straight to voicemail. As we approache the place, the music throbbed through the night and silhouettes move on the sidewalk. My eyes scan the area, landing on two figures – one slumped against the wall, the other pacing impatiently. Relief washes over me momentarily, but then I see Jimin.

He is sprawled on the sidewalk, his hair disheveled and his clothes askew. A grimace contorted his face, clutching his stomach with a groan. Gabi hovered beside him, her face pale and streaked with tears.

"He… he got beat up," Gabi stammers, her voice cracking. "I don't know what happened!"

Jungkook kneels beside Jimin, his brow furrowed as he assesses the situation. Thankfully, there was barely any blood, but Jimin definitely looked worse for wear.

"What the hell happened?" Jungkook asks, his voice laced with concern.

"I don't know," Gabi sniffles. "We were just leaving the bar when these guys started shoving him around. They kept calling him names…" Her voice trailes off, tears welling up again.

Jimin winces as he tried to sit up. "Ugh, my head…" he mumbled, his voice slurred, as he sat back down.

I kneel beside Gabi, my own worry bubbling up. "Are you okay, Gabi?"

She shakes her head, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I'm scared. What if they come back?"

Just then, a group of three young men emerge from the bar, their faces flushed and their voices loud. They spott us and start swaggering over, a menacing glint in their eyes.

"Hey! Looks like the little party's still going on," one of them sneers, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Leave us alone," Gabi says, her voice trembling.

The leader of the group scoffs. "Not until we settle the score with your little boyfriend here."

Jungkook stands up, his jaw set in a hard line. He was a big guy, but you could barely notice underneath the jacket he wore. But he radiates a quiet intensity that made me feel a flicker of hope.

"We don't want any trouble," he says calmly, though his voice holds a steely edge. "Just let us go."

The leader barks out a laugh. "Trouble? You started the trouble when your friend got mouthy with us."

The situation was escalating quickly, and I know we were outnumbered. My mind races, searching for a way out.

The tension in the air is palpable, and the group's hostile approach sent a shiver down my spine. I glance at Jungkook, who was visibly bracing himself for a confrontation. My mind desperate to find a way to defuse the situation before it got any worse.

Jungkook steps in front of Jimin protectively, his posture solid and unyielding. “Look, we don’t want any trouble,” he states firmly, though the strain in his voice was evident. “We’re just here to help our friend.”

The leader of the group’s eyes narrow, his gaze shifting between Jungkook and Jimin. “Help, huh? Seems like you’re just trying to play the hero. You should have thought about that before your friend decided to act tough.”

The men behind him shuffle closer, their faces etched with aggressive intent. I could see the situation spiraling out of control, and my heart pounds with fear. I take a deep breath and tried to gather all the courage in me. 

Squaring my shoulders, I rise to my feet, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. "Listen, gentlemen," I say, my voice surprisingly steady considering the tremor in my legs. "This is all a big misunderstanding. We're just leaving."

The leader's gaze flicks to Jungkook, who remains a stoic figure beside me. A smirk played on his lips."Misunderstanding, huh? Looks like your little boyfriend here needs a lesson in respect."

My smile falters. Respect? These guys were looking for trouble, and I wasn't about to let them take it out on Jimin. "He didn't do anything wrong," I counter, my voice gaining a touch of defiance. Maybe if I played it tough, they'd back down.

One of the guys snorted. "Yeah, right. Maybe you should teach him some manners yourself, sweetheart."

Their amusement fuel a surge of anger within me. They clearly didn't see the pepper spray nestled discreetly in the side pocket of my backpack. This wasn't a situation that called for playing nice.

With a deep breath, I reach back, my fingers brushing the cool metal canister. They didn't need to see it, just know it was there. "Look," I say, my voice dropping to a low growl. "We're not here to fight. But if you keep pushing, things could get messy. And trust me, you don't want that mess."

The leader's smirk falter for a brief moment, replaced by a flicker of something that might have been apprehension. He glances at his buddies, a silent question hanging in the air.

But then, as quickly as it appeared, the sneer returns. "Empty threats, doll?" he scoffs. "Let's see you back that up."

He takes a menacing step forward, his hand reaching out as if to grab me. It was now or never.

My hand shoots into my backpack, emerging with a hiss. The pepper spray gleams in the dim streetlight, a silent warning.

The leader freezes, his eyes widening in shock. His hand retreats as if burned. The air crackles with a different kind of tension now, thick with fear.

"Maybe you should reconsider," I say, my voice leaving no room for argument. “We’re not here to fight, but if you push it…”

The leader’s smirk falters, replaced by a flicker of hesitation. He glances at his buddies, weighing the situation.

Finally, he gives a dismissive wave. “Whatever. We’re done here. Get your friend out of here and don’t come back.”

The group turns and walk away, their retreating figures dissolving into the night. As the adrenaline begin to fade, I let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of relief settle in. Jungkook takes away the can from my hand and quickly analyses if I am ok. He softly squeezes my hand in reassurance, before returning to Jimin’s side, helping him to his feet as Gabi wipes her tears away. 

“Lets get him home.” He quickly says while leading the way.  Previous ✧ Next

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Honestly, I am quite excited with this story! Hope you guys are enjoying too! Anyway! Share your thoughts! It honestly makes my day hehe Hope you are liking it so far :)

add yourself to the TAGLIST

[kleefkruid]

I got a Child Focus (Belgian center for missing children) alert on Instagram, which is new and… interesting? We get missing children on the electronic billboards and from there on out it will spread organically on social media but I’ve never gotten a direct message like this?

However, you want me to look out for a baby? A blonde baby? At least the car is a useful lead

Went to the news and there they have actual pictures of the other people in the car, sounds like this message system isn’t being updated with the latest information but seeing as it’s the first time I’ve seen it used it’s probably not finetuned yet.

Anyway I’ll add the pictures here since it’s apparently a very urgent case, it’s the parents who apparently aren’t allowed access to the child who have kidnapped him from France to likely Belgium so West EU people keep a look out?

[errorryx]

I've been listening to so many female artists lately, it's gotten to the point where they're consistently outnumbering male artists in my playlists. It's an incredible feeling to have successfully re-centered my focus and appreciation on women instead of men, and I wish everyone could feel this kind of joy. So I'm gonna try to do something about it.

If you're into music, I'd really love it if you took the time to reblog this post with your favorite female artists/female-led bands in the tags, comments, additions to the main post, whatever you want. I want the notes to be a resource for people to find new music if they don't know where to start. Most of us have probably listened to Mitski or Florence before (though I love both of those artists, don't get me wrong), so I'd love to hear about some lesser-known musicians. I don't know if this post will take off, but I really hope it does!

A small selection of my personal recommendations:

The Narcotix: they're an incredibly talented and criminally underrated duo. I shout their music out every chance I get because I've never heard anything else like it and I think everyone should give them a chance. They make complex, beautifully orchestrated music, described by their website as psychedelic art-rock. I think folk music fans would probably eat this up.

Thao: formerly of Thao & The Get Down Stay Down, she was the subject of an intense hyperfixation of mine last year. She started out doing Appalachian folk-rock and pivoted into indie music with some more electronic elements. I love her to death and it's hard to condense that adoration into a brief summary, but suffice it to say she's an amazing musician.

Japanese Breakfast: I think she's pretty popular actually, but I need everybody to hear the above song. It's been driving me crazy for months now. She's got a very distinctive way of climbing up to high notes that just sounds heavenly, and it really shines through on this track. (If you're more into bouncy pop music, check out her song Be Sweet, you'll love it.)

If you're looking for more specific recommendations anywhere in the realm of indie, rock, or folk music, please don't be afraid to send me an ask or a message! Let me know what you're already listening to and I'll do my best to throw you something I think you'll like. And if you're thinking of adding your own recommendations, don't limit yourself to those genres just because it's what I happen to like. All types of music are welcome.

[swampstew]

Captain_CumShot

Welcome to Raven's Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Take a seat on the chaise lounge, plug your electronic device in so you can enjoy this multi-chapter, full blown smut story. The Captain is the snack and sadly, I have nothing to offer to soothe the yearning. As always, links to Wattpad and AO3 at the bottom. Enjoy, from your favorite loyal, cabin hoe♥

Summary: Eustass Kid finalized his OnlyFans account - let's hope it doesn't get reported again.

Minors DNI you will be blocked - for adult audiences only.

A digital illustration of ocean waves and a menacing looking ship sailing the waters graced the banner of the OnlyFans account, layered with a deep red, blood-stained filter over the art. Right under the seafaring artwork in bold letters spelled out Captain_CumShot, the owner of the account. A partially faded jolly roger was pinned behind the account name, as if to add to the mischievous vibe of the page.

The circular profile photo was a zoomed in snapshot of the Captain’s face. He looked dangerous – a pair of worn, welding goggles pushed back his long red hair, a red-painted, wide-mouth grin with his tongue poking between his teeth, and sharp golden eyes pierced anyone who looked upon the photo with a sly look. A long, narrow nose centered on his face, shaved eyebrows, two long scars over his left eye, and an anti-eyebrow piercing on the side of his right cheekbone accentuated his devilishly handsome face. Was the dark, liquid-like substance that stained his face blood or something naughtier? His location placed him in the great State of Desire.

Captain_CumShot’s profile page was expertly put together. The first thing one would notice was his About Me poster. Another photo of the undeniably sexy face graced the cover, this time in the middle of being splattered by a viscous looking liquid; it had the same blood-stained filter layered over it like the profile banner. The subtitle under the photo read: No Discounts - Only thirsty bitches willing to pay get to have a sip.

He had a message for his readers –

���Hiya dolls. This is the one and only page for Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid, the kind of guy all your parents warned you to stay away from. I’m terrible, toxic, and plain fucking awful for your frail little hearts, and I know that just makes you want me more. Unfortunately for you, I’m untouchable. Fret not, little dolls. Just because you can’t have a taste doesn’t mean I’ll leave you hanging. I’m nothing if not a huuuuge tease, with a huuuuuuuuge cock to back it up. Have a little morsel that I was decent enough to leave for you👇🏻 If you’re brave enough, subscribe to my page and I’ll show you the deepest, darkest pleasures that you’ve never known.”

A video with a thumbnail was below the message. From what wasn’t censored, one could see his luscious red locks falling backwards as he hung his head back, face screwed shut in the throes of pleasure.

*Press Play?*

The focal point of the camera was blurred as the massive, redhaired beast of a man stepped away from the device, allowing it to focus on its subject and present him in the highest quality. He was wearing compressed underwear and nothing more. A pile of abandoned gym clothes kicked away in a bundle off to the side of the incline bench press he stood next to as he flexed for the camera. Bulging muscles on every inch of him as he twisted and turned, all the while sneering at the camera as if to say, don’t you wish you could crawl through the screen to touch me.

He pulled off the headband from his forehead and shook his sweat-slicked hair, little droplets of perspiration reflected off the lighting in the room. An indoor gym – it must have been a personal, in-home gym or the man truly gave no fucks who saw him as he proudly began stroking his hardening cock through the dark underwear.

Using thick, red painted fingers, he bobbed his large bulge until it strained against the fabric. His balls gently jiggled behind the underwear the more he played with his cock.

“Alright, I’ll stop fuckin with ya,” he spoke in a low, gravelly voice. “You came all this way for some dick, least I can do is show ya what you’re gonna be payin’ for. It’s worth it, you’ll see.”

A small pop-up with a reminder to subscribe to his account showed before disappearing again after two seconds.

Captain_CumShot pulled his underwear off and stepped closer to the camera. His cock was beautiful. Long and thick, adorned with veins running from base to just below his tip. Engorged head redder than the rest of his shaft, the light reflected off the bead of precum that was threatening to spill out of his slit. Neatly trimmed red hair, darker than the hair on his head framed his shaft.

“Like what you see? You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he growled through his sneer, putting his headband back on before spitting in his flesh hand, returning it to his cock.

Slow, teasing strokes up and down his member, his hips buckled slightly as he tightened his grip around the head. Using his thumb, he ran the digit around the swollen tip, smearing precum down the rest of his cock before using two fingers to gently pull his sack, letting out a low groan as he let his eyes close.

“I want you to imagine,” he rasped, “You’re against this bench. And I’m gonna fuck you raw on it,” he grinned.

Turning his body to the bench press, he stood with the seated section between his legs as he pressed his cock against the smooth, black backseat. Then he started grinding against it.

He gripped the top of the bench press with his metal prosthetic, propping his flesh hand behind his back to provide a better view of his inappropriate use of the gym equipment.

“Imagine my heavy cock sliding against your warm, wet center,” he teased, hips snapping sharply. “Hitting against your most sensitive areas, making you writhe and cream against me, all before I even stuff it inside,” he cackled.

He hung his head back and let out a moan, slowing his motions in exchange for short, lazy snaps. Pulling back just enough to let his cock bob freely, a line of precum clinging to his tip and the bench.

“Mmmm, I normally go for much longer but this is a so-called teaser to draw you in to subscribe. Keep that in mind when you think of me when you’re alone. Or maybe when you’re out in public, I like kinky sluts like that.”

Moving the camera stand closer to the bench press, Eustass Kid moved back to his starting position and pace on the equipment. He spit in his hand again and coated his cock before he slapped it against the material of the bench, putting all his body weight against his cock as he grinded against it once more. Shoulder muscles tightened under his alabaster skin as he used both arms to steady himself, the camera’s titled angle allowed for a delicious view of his panting face, his flexing muscles, and on his pulsing cock as he shamelessly rut on the bench. Moaning loudly as he brought himself closer.

“Wh-where, where would you want me, I wonder,” his long tongue between his grit teeth as he panted. “I know my loyal cabin hoes would let me finish inside,” he winked. “Ah ah! Fu-fuck!” escaped from him as he let out a few final thrusts.

The tip of his cock turned a dark shade of red as all his blood pooled. Twitching, he let out ropes of thick, gooey cum that smeared and ran down the angles incline. White streaks sliding down around his cock as he lazily thrusted as he rode out his orgasm.

“Hnnghh, fuck yeah,” he breathed. “That’s just the first round. I have a lot of stamina. Vids are short for upload reasons but if you want, long, torturous, and sinful content, make sure you subscribe to gain access to my live streams. You’ll be creaming your pants and begging me for more. Check out the tiers, the bonuses, and my wishlist. The more you thirsty whores pay me, the nastier I’ll get. See ya inside,” he winked again, blowing the camera a kiss as he slapped his cock against the bench press before a still frame of his prices took over the screen.

Captain_CumShot’s Main Menu:

Tier I – Deck Swabber – access to content 1 month prior to subscribing, access to videos and cumshot photo gallery.

Tier II – Sea Wenches – all treats in the first tier, plus access to professional pin-up photo gallery, access to content 2 months prior to subscribing, and access to live streams.

Tier III – Cabin Hoes – all treats in the first two tiers, plus sexting (messaging only), a lewd monthly calendar template, access to all published content prior to subscribing, and personally catered 60-second degradation videos.

Pay me or buy me shit off my wishlist and I’ll let you see my menu of forbidden treasures. More add-ons, services, treats, and surprises only for loyal hoes inside.

It lasted for 20 seconds before the video continued on for the last 15 seconds. The camera zoomed in on the cumshot on the bench press. A thick, white puddle pooled on the sitting section as it dripped from the risen back section. The camera showed off the streaks of viscous, opaque lines that ran down from the angled section from where his seed had initially hit. The camera’s view went back to the puddle, where a red nail dipped into the thick of it, dragging his essence downwards until the video ended.

Leave a like to tip OR hit the reblog button to subscribe.

Read on Wattpad | Read on AO3

[alm0ndla1t]

༘⋆ - YOU’VE GOT MAIL.

༘⋆ FT :: xavier thorpe x fem!addams!reader

༘⋆ TW :: mentions of the word ‘dead’ once, angsty content (??). some lines from the show are used

༘⋆ SYNOPSIS :: you did your all to hide xavier’s parting gift from your family. who would’ve thought the object of your desire would become known to them so soon…

⊹ ⋆ﾟ꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

I get caught red handed as the foreign, high-pitched sound of a message notification fills in the pause of a family discussion during dinner. I freeze, accepting my fate as the center of attention as we sit in dead silence. I always liked my solitude and the quiet, let alone words and things beginning with ‘dead’, but this one was making me nauseous, and not in a good way. This is where it ends. What a drag. The taste of my favorite dish or my father’s neverending stories of his years at Nevermore could not have made it up to the void I felt inside of me.

I slide my right hand into my pocket slowly and imperceptibly, disabling the sound of my phone. I see a familiar contact name as my phone screen lights up. Xavier. Of course it has to be him. Oh the place and time. Brushing off the brim of emotions that overwhelms me, I take the knife and the fork back in my shaky hands and force out a few words of explanation that my parents deserve.

“My apologies, perhaps bringing a phone to a family function wasn’t the best idea. Will note for next time” I end up murmuring indistinctly with a fake smile, looking down at my plate in humiliation. My eyes then anxiously wander across the room, examining my family’s faces. Everyone is eyeing me back in utter confusion. That, however, doesn’t stop my mom from engaging into the conversation furthermore, as she puts the napkin back on her lap.

“Y/n, darling,” she said softly. “Would you mind explaining how you happen to possess the soul-sucking electronic device of meaningless affirmation in the first place?”

The question was expected and I should’ve came prepared - no one in the house knew about Xavier’s thoughtful gift to me, except for Wednesday, of course. The alien and humbling feeling of excitement, mixed with admiration, has overfilled me to the point where confessing to my sister on the spot was inevitable. The timing was especially right, as next came the unsettling messages from our stalker that we’re yet to decode.

“It was a parting gift from my friend when I left Nevermore for this winter break” I clarify blandly, making eye contact with my mother. My train of thought, which was more a contemplation of my eventful life anyway, was cut off by a voice at the end of the table.

“Does the friend in question happen to be the handsome young man from that one time at the Nightshade library?” Uncle Fester asks frisky and somewhat mockingly, stuffing his mouth with salad.

I am in the beam of spotlight once again as the family is left on a cliffhanger. Hurts to admit, I overreacted. This is where it ends. My ego are pride are shattered in a million pieces. Who knew that the terrible loss of a subjective self-identity of a heartless, disastrous hellbound teenage girl would come so soon.

Hastily picking up the food on my plate with a fork, I utter the following in a grumbly indistinct manner, trying hard not to blush. “Yes, it was him.”

My parents meet each others gazes as they smile. They let me rest from the discussion for half a minute, murmuring sweet nothings to one another, and just when I begin to think my blaze of glory is finally over, my mom picks the conversation up again.

“So, mind telling us more about it? What is his name?”

“Xavier Thorpe.” Wednesday shot back before I was even able to respond. Perhaps the complete disgust of the ongoing discussion has pushed her to my rescue, hoping to end this nightmare as soon as possible.

My mother hums in approval and continues the love interest trivia, raising her brow. “He’s Vincent Thorpe’s son, isn’t he?”

“Wait, what?!” Pugsley says at the edge of his seat, excited from overhearing his favorite psychic’s name.

“Yes, yes he is. I am not sure as of where me and Xavier stand and I would appreciate it if you give me some time before we talk about this again” I let out a sigh as I finally say what’s been on my mind. “For now, excuse me, I have to go. Thank you for a wonderful meal.”

I get up and make my way upstairs, to find some peace and quiet in my bedroom. Laying on my back and staring at the ceiling in complete despair, I pull out the phone from my pocket after some time, checking the messages.

“Hey! I was thinking of asking you out for coffee, how does that sound?”

I am doomed. So doomed.

[aacesignco]

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[dlstmxkakwldrlarchive]

SHINee show their love through their 8th full-length album HARD.

[...] SHINee's new song "JUICE" is a high-tempo hip-hop dance song centered on energetic rap, a bass line that leaves a strong impression, and brass sound.The lyrics contain a message that shows you falling deeply in love with someone who enjoys their life and that you should live every moment of your life worthwhile with confidence.

"Satellite," is an electronic pop song that compares a situation where you can't get close to your lover to a satellite, with dreamy claves and flux synths leading the overall song and a strange mood between major and minor compositions.

"Like It" is a dance pop song featuring a synth theme line that repeatedly appears on a cheerful beat, and its rhythmical vocal line and falsetto chorus pad added charm to the song.

[swaglet]

im seeing a bunch of people post about abortion and birth control and stuff like that because of recent events, and i just wanted 2 share some important info i know

1. if you track your periods, do not track them on an app, buy a small little 1 year calender from the dollar store and keep it by your bed/on your desk at home and use that to track it and any symptoms you get with it. nobody will be able to see it except for you and the people you choose, and there's no way for it to be shared electronically to people who shouldn't be seeing it unless someone scans it and uploads it to the internet somewhere.

2. if you live within road trip distance of western pennsylvania, i know an obgyn/surgeon who will do tubal ligations and bisalps upon request (with a referral afaik, at least in my case) with no questions asked for anyone of any age, for any reason: dr. kevin c dumpe, based in beaver falls, PA. this location is just under an hour north of pittsburgh, which has a major airport.

3. my personal obgyn also gives out referrals for bisalps and tubal ligations for anyone who asks regardless of age or if you have children or not. she also is amazing at taking your complaints seriously and working with you to access any labs/scans/referrals to specialists you may need in order to find out any diagnoses you have, and she also helped me find out & tweak what exact type and dose of birth control i need for my issues while still catering to my worries and needs, and she is super receptive to any feedback given and cares about you above all. if anyone is looking to switch from an unsavory obgyn to a better one, or just needs an obgyn in general, i believe she does telehealth/video visits (at least since the last time i checked) so if you'd like to be in contact with her just message me and i'll give you her name and info :P she's about an hour north of beaver falls, just under 2 hours north of pittsburgh

4. if anybody needs this info please share it with them!!! sorry reblogs are off it's just that this is all so close to home for me lol i don't want to accidentally doxx myself more than i have already

EDIT

5. again, if you are within road trip distance to western PA/can afford a plane ticket to pittsburgh, there are two abortion/reproductive health care clinics located inside of pittsburgh; planned parenthood, and allegheny reproductive health center. both do more than just abortions, and the allegheny clinic covers pretty much all the same things that planned parenthood does. i have volunteered for allegheny; if you request it, you will have escorts protecting you from any protesters outside the building or anyone else who may wish to harm you for going inside, and every service they offer has a sliding scale fee option and other financial options for people who may need it. they do abortions, birth control prescriptions including on the spot IUD insertions, and a lot of other things. if you were to need somewhere to stay, i could try to help you arrange something, and i would be willing to travel with you and offer you support

[mariacallous]

Last month, US president Joe Biden signed a surveillance bill enhancing the National Security Agency’s power to compel US businesses to wiretap communications going in and out of the country. The changes to the law have left legal experts largely in the dark as to the true limits of this new authority, chiefly when it comes to the types of companies that could be affected. The American Civil Liberties Union and organizations like it say the bill has rendered the statutory language governing the limits of a powerful wiretap tool overly vague, potentially subjecting large swaths of corporate America to warrantless and secretive surveillance practices.

In April, Congress rushed to extend the US intelligence system’s “crown jewel,” Section 702 of the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA). The spy program allows the NSA to wiretap calls and messages between Americans and foreigners abroad—so long as the foreigner is the individual being “targeted” and the intercept serves a significant “foreign intelligence” purpose. Since 2008, the program has been limited to a subset of businesses that the law calls “electronic communications service providers,” or ECSPs—corporations such as Microsoft and Google, which provide email services, and phone companies like Sprint and AT&T.

In recent years, the government has worked quietly to redefine what it means to be an ECSP in an attempt to extend the NSA’s reach, first unilaterally and now with Congress’ backing. The issue remains that the bill Biden signed last month contains murky language that attempts to redefine the scope of a critical surveillance program. In response, a coalition of digital rights organizations, including the Brennan Center for Justice to the Electronic Frontier Foundation, is pressing the US attorney general, Merrick Garland, and the nation’s top spy, Avril Haines, to declassify details about a relevant court case that could, they say, shed much-needed light on the situation.

In a letter to the top officials, more than 20 such organizations say they believe the new definition of an ECSP adopted by Congress might “permit the NSA to compel almost any US business to assist” the agency, noting that all companies today provide some sort of “service” and have access to equipment on which “communications” are stored.

“Deliberately writing overbroad surveillance authorities and trusting that future administrations will decide not to exploit them is a recipe for abuse,” the letter says. “And it is entirely unnecessary, as the administration can—and should—declassify the fact that the provision is intended to reach data centers.”

The Justice Department confirmed receipt of the letter on Tuesday but referred WIRED to the Office of the Director of National Intelligence, which has primary purview over declassification decisions. The ODNI has not responded to a request for comment.

It is widely believed—and has been reported—that data centers are the intended target of this textual change. Matt Olsen, the assistant US attorney general for national security, appeared on an April 17 episode of the Lawfare podcast to say that, while unable to confirm or deny any specifics, data centers today store a significant amount of communications data and are an “example” of why the government viewed the change as necessary.

A DOJ spokesperson pointed WIRED to an April 18 letter by Garland that claims the new ECSP definition is “narrowly tailored.” The letter includes written reflections on the provision by the assistant attorney general, Carlos Uriarte, who writes that the “fix” is meant to address a “critical intelligence gap” resulting from changes in technology over the past 15 years. According to Uriarte, the DOJ has committed to applying the new definition internally “to cover the type of service provider at issue” before the court.

Ostensibly this means the government is promising to limit future surveillance directives to data centers (in addition to the companies traditionally defined as ECSPs).

The surveillance court that oversees FISA and the appeals court that reviews its decisions sided two years ago with an unidentified company that fought back after being served an NSA order. Both courts ruled that it did not, in fact, appear to meet the criteria for being considered an ECSP, as only part of its function was storing communications data. Finding the government’s interpretation of the statute overly broad, the court reminded the government that only Congress has the “competence and constitutional authority” to rewrite the law.

Digital rights groups argue that declassifying additional information about this FISA case may help the public understand which types of businesses are actually subject to NSA directives. Practically speaking, they say, that information is no longer a secret anyway. “Declassifying this information would cause little if any national security harm,” the letter says. “The New York Times has already revealed that the relevant FISC case addressed data centers for cloud computing.”

In the aftermath of the FISA court’s ruling, the NSA and other spy agencies began lobbying the House and Senate intelligence committees to aid the administration in redefining what it means to be an ECSP. Members of both committees have subsequently portrayed the court’s ruling as a “directive” that Congress needs to expand the NSA’s reach. In a floor speech last month, Mark Warner, the chair of the Senate Intelligence Committee, said, “So what happened was, the FISA Court said to Congress: You guys need to close this loophole; you need to close this and change this definition.”

But in fact what the court asserted was that the government had exceeded its authority and that it was Congress’ job, not the Justice Department’s, to revise the law. “Any unintended gap in coverage revealed by our interpretation is, of course, open to reconsideration by the branches of government whose competence and constitutional authority extend to statutory revision,” the court said.

This would culminate in new language being proposed that quickly alarmed legal experts, including top civil liberties attorneys who’ve appeared before the secret court in the past. The surveillance fears quickly spread to Silicon Valley. The Information Technology Industry Council, one of the tech industry's top lobbying arms, warned that companies like Facebook and IBM were interpreting the bill as having “vastly expanded the US government’s warrantless surveillance capabilities.”

This expansion, the firm added, would also hinder the “competitiveness of US technology companies” and arguably imperil the “continued global free flow of data between the US and its allies.” Customers internationally, it argued, would likely begin taking their business elsewhere should the US government turn data centers into surveillance watering holes.

Concerns about the new ECSP definition have been circulating since December. While largely dismissing them, members of the House and Senate intelligence committees made a few adjustments in February, exempting a handful of business types. This came in response to popular concerns that Starbucks employees and hotel IT staff might be secretly conscripted by the NSA. FISA experts such as Marc Zwillinger—a private attorney who has appeared twice before the FISA Court of Review—noted in response to those adjustments that Congress’ rush to exempt a handful of businesses only served to demonstrate that the text was inherently too broad.

Intelligence committee members kept the pressure on lawmakers to reauthorize the Section 702 program with the sought-after language, going as far as to suggest that another 9/11-style attack might occur if they failed. The power of the committees was on full display, as while neither actually have primary jurisdiction over FISA, a majority of the Section 702 bill that passed was authored by intelligence committee staff.

Even while supporting the new framework and dismissing the intensity of civil society’s concerns, Warner did eventually step forward to acknowledge the new ECSF definition needed additional tweaking. First, on the Senate floor in April, he said that Garland shared his “view” that the language “could have been drafted better.” Later, in response to questions from reporters, he added: “I’m absolutely committed to getting that fixed.”

That appears unlikely to happen soon. According to The Record, Warner indicated that the best time to update the language again would be in the “next intelligence bill,” presumably referring to legislation this fall broadly reauthorizing the intelligence community’s work.

In the meantime, however, more than half of Congress is running for election, and the next US president will have greater surveillance powers than any other before. No one can say for sure who that president will be or how they’ll make use of that authority.

[ivanttakethis]

Before Round 7 - Tov’s Log

Daiki (?) vs. Tallis (?) - ??? Win

————————————————————

Aurien was gone.

So was Solei.

The only thing left behind was the bloody stage.

Tov learned about all of the new security measures in a message from the production team the next morning.

Each contestant’s threat level would be reassessed. The number of guards patrolling the complex was doubled. Anyone who misbehaved would be collared permanently.

Agents from the AREPH had set up a satellite base in the complex to continue their investigation and deter any further escape attempts.

The rescue was a miracle for Aurien, and a death knell for everyone else.

No one was coming to save them.

There were only two ways out.

Win or die.

Tov didn’t sleep. She didn’t eat either.

To someone on the outside looking in, she likely appeared stoic. But there was a storm simmering just below the surface.

It had been brewing since Azure took his last breath, ebbing and flowing like the tide as the season dragged on and claimed more victims.

Now it was Tallis’s turn.

Whatever fate the stars had for him, Tov would be there to witness it.

Her biggest regret had been not getting to see Moran one last time before her round. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Even if it ended in the death of another one of her stars.

Trying to convince Cassio to let her go with them would be the hardest part.

There was a rhythmic knock at her bedroom door.

“Tov?”

“Come in.”

Cassio opened the door just enough to peek their head in and smiled. “Ah, good. You’re already up and about.” They said. “Would you like to join me backstage for Round 7?”

Tov blinked. Cassio blinked back.

What?

There was no way it was this easy.

She was expecting pushback, a counter argument, outright denial, something.

But all she got was a little smile and slightly raised eyebrows expectantly awaiting her answer.

“Uh,” Tov struggled to recover from the blindside, “Sure?”

“Wonderful. Get dressed then, we’ll need to leave soon.” Cassio said, shutting the door behind them.

Tov felt… uneasy.

After Cassio’s insistence that she stay home for the last three rounds, she thought for sure she would have to fight to go this time. Or at the very least, she would have to be the one to approach the topic first.

Why are you asking me to go now?

What changed?

It didn’t matter right now. She could figure out Cassio’s motivations later. What mattered was getting to Alien Stage and seeing Tallis.

———

Tov was back in the maze of hallways that made up Alien Stage’s backstage area.

She wasn’t as frantic as she had been during Round 3.

Some of the signs and marked doors rang familiar as she passed them.

Despite the lack of sleep and sustenance, Tov’s head only got clearer the further she wound her way through the tunnels.

She knew what her goal was and had a general idea of where she needed to go.

“The contestants will be in their dressing rooms by the time we arrive.” Cassio had told her. “They’ll be situated at the end of a long, wide hallway and around a corner on the first underground floor. It’s secluded, so you should be able to speak freely without fear of being overheard.”

The last part of their explanation had caught Tov off guard, but there was no time to question it.

She waved her badge over a card scanner and pushed open the electronic doors to a long, wide hallway. It was completely empty.

Tov felt her heart skip a beat.

“At the end of a long, wide hallway and around a corner.” She muttered to herself, quickening her pace and making a sharp left.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she turned the corner.

In front of her were two matching doors side by side. Both doors had a white card tapped in the center with a name written in black ink.

On the left: Daiki.

On the right: Tallis.

Only one door separated Tov from one of her closest friends.

Tov knocked three times. One for each of them. Tov. Himei. Tallis.

“The door is open!” A familiar voice called from the other side.

She slowly opened the door and stepped inside.

Tallis was at the large vanity with his back to her. She could see him worrying his bottom lip between his teeth in the reflection of the mirror. A nervous habit he hadn’t grown out of.

Tov stepped closer, making her presence known, “Tallis?”

Tallis’s eyes widened at the sound of her voice and he quickly turned around, his mouth slightly agape.

“Tov?” His voice was soft around the edges, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” She said.

Tallis nodded, trying to collect his thoughts. “Well, here I am.” His voice wavered a bit at the end.

She could tell he was nervous, yes. But there was something else underneath it.

They didn’t have time to dig any of that up. Tov wasn’t even sure how to.

She and Tallis stood there for a moment, looking at each other.

There was so much she thought about saying to him once she got here, but the growing lump in her throat refused to allow it.

She would just have to show him.

Not wanting to waste another moment, Tov closed the distance between them and pulled Tallis into a hug.

He stiffened at first, likely from shock, but wrapped his arms around her in return. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

He was warmer than Himei was when she hugged her. His heart was beating faster too.

Tov couldn’t remember the last time they’d hugged. Now she wished they had done it more often.

The very thought made her heart ache.

Tov wasn’t the type to beg. But if she could ask the stars for anything, it would be for Tallis to survive.

Please. She chanted. Please please please.

She pulled back from the hug just enough the cradle his face in her hands. His cheeks burned against her palms.

Up this close, she could see the different shades of green in his irises and all of the freckles across his nose.

Growing up, Tov was jealous of them. Tallis’s freckles looked like the clusters of stars she worshipped.

She remembered trying to count them all when they would lounge under the shade of the big tree in Anakt Garden, or when she couldn’t sleep during nap time. They were fascinating.

Tallis was fascinating.

She never told him that. There were a lot of things she didn’t tell him. But there was one thing she wouldn’t let go unsaid.

Their eyes met, and Tov held his gaze like a lifeline. “Do your best.” She said quietly,

“I love you.”

————————————————————

So anyways, I cried while writing this. I love that even though Tov and Tallis aren’t the most talkative people, they share a deep understanding of one another that’s unique to them 🥹

This is also the first time that Tov has told Tallis that she loves him. Usually she shows she cares through actions, but she wanted him to know exactly how she felt.

I didn’t want Tallis to say too much because he’s not my oc and I don’t want to mischaracterize him, so the ending is basically me kicking this over to @lookatmysillies if they want to expand on it (no pressure, of course).

Tallis, Himei, and AREPH belong to @lookatmysillies.

Solei belongs to @solei-eclipse.

Aurien belongs to @aurienneirua.

Azure belongs to @azureitri.

[fleckcmscott]

Hearth and Home

Summary: During Christmas in Missouri, Arthur learns - and Y/N relearns - how to celebrate with family.

Words: 6,525

Warnings: None

A/N: This little piece is based on a request from @jokerownsmysoul, as well as a continuation of Haunted Heart. Please enjoy this very tardy holiday story! 😂 Thank you to @jokerownsmysoulfor not only making the request, but also beta-ing the first draft. Much appreciation to @sweet-nothings04and @forever-fleck for helping with the intro pic! 💜

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Christmastide hadn't yet crept into Gobler Mall, but it'd slid halfway through the door and propped it open.

A cardboard sleigh advertised Santa's imminent arrival. Kiosks selling Dead Sea Salt body scrubs and smoked cheeses were buried in unopened boxes of merchandise. A man in a green janitor's uniform hung honeycomb snowflakes from the center atrium, his ladder buttressed against the second story's balcony wall. 

The anchor store in the east wing had outraced its competitors to win the gold. A twenty-foot tree stood in the center of Hecht's Fineries, plastic branches reaching out to entice customers past cosmetics to a world of sporting goods, toys, and electronics.

Y/N pushed a shopping cart through Today's Woman, the fashion department situated between cookware and shoes. Right on her heels, Arthur browsed with the exuberance of a boy who knew exactly what to write on his Christmas list. Adorable, yes. Contagious and delightful? Certainly. The magic of the season permeated the air whenever he was near.

But if he didn't lose her trail soon, surprising him would be impossible.

They'd brought a small selection of gifts from Gotham. Curry pastes from Siam Market and a Glob's Gourmet Pickles sampler (which had, thankfully, remained intact during their flight). But with limited luggage space, they'd settled on buying most here. A quilted jewelry box appeared a good fit for Ruthie, and with Jason pretending he'd grown out of comic books, they'd chosen a leather baseball glove for him. That left a Mr. Wizard Ecology Kit for Brian and a set of Read-A-Long books on tape for Ashley.

Now they had to settle on what to get Mabel and Ed. And each other.

"I dunno what she likes," Arthur told Y/N, flipping through a circular rack of blouses. Hangers squealed along a metal rod, an atonal chorus. "She dresses more casually than you, but she still looks nice." A one shoulder shrug concluded the observation.

Y/N leaned onto the cart's handle. "A good rule to go by is, if I'd hate it, she'd love it. Wait, that might work." She raised her hand to stop the search. He held out a horizontally striped pullover, black and confident pink illuminated by metallic threads.

A sharp nod answered his knotted brow. "It's definitely her."

As they made their way to the register, a row of mannequin busts caught his gaze. Decked out in festive finery, they wore sweaters thick enough to warm the skinniest soul. He strolled the length of the display, hands clasped at the small of his back, mocha curls brushing his shoulders. He stopped at a crewneck two-thirds of the way down.

Flocked plus signs spanned the shoulders and chest, like a blanket of light snow. Alternating patterns of stars and deer came next, followed by a swathe of rich maroon, the same color as his suit. An odd design, to be sure, but fashionable. The trendiest thing ever to have a chance at moving into Arthur's closet.

When his thin lips pursed, she sidled next to him. Shopping for others didn't mean he couldn't consider himself. "You'd look gorgeous in that," she said.

A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Really?"

"Really." She reached for it with a seductive slowness. "Should we get it now or wait for Santa?"

On a hitched laugh, he stole it from her fingertips and got in line.

~~~~~

Carrying a tray of Morrison's Cafeteria broiled chicken, yellow rice, and two diet cokes, Mabel zigzagged through grey tables to a four-top on the periphery of the food court, where Y/N guarded Radio Shack and Sears bags with the promise not to peek. Though not much of a splurger, she was surprisingly fun to shop with. Admiring window displays, suggesting gifts for Ed and Arthur. Mabel had needed that quality time, another chance to be Big and Little Sis. 

Ever a rocket about to lift off, Ashley bounced on a stack chair beside Y/N. The other three children were in school, busy learning their ABCs. Sun cascaded through skylights, brought out honey blonde streaks in the toddler's hair. Y/N took a blue crayon from a RoseArt three-pack and pointed to a spot on a paper placement, an instruction to make the first move in a tic-tac-toe game. In a fit of giggles, the girl clapped and drew an X over the entire grid. 

A mix of joy and pensiveness twisted Mabel's heart.

Fed by losing her mom at twenty-four, she braced against the possibility of not being there. New milestones brought happiness - but they also reminded her she'd be fifty when her youngest was a freshman in high school. Nights of four-hour naps and days filled with play and homework took a lot more out of her than motherhood had a decade ago. There were moments exhaustion seeped so deeply into her bones she could've slept standing up.

Once Ashley was sent to a coin-operated carousel ride a couple yards away, Mabel confided to Y/N. "Don't get me wrong. I'd do anything for them. I just thought they'd all be in school by now." She rolled straw paper between thumb and forefinger. "Mom never seemed to get tired. But chasing Ashley around, I feel like I'm ready for the retirement home."

"She has parents who are older and wiser. Who know when they were too strict with the others and not strict enough. Isn't that a good thing?" Y/N tore a final piece of chicken off the bone and touched her toes to Mabel's. "You want to be mom. But you can't be. No one could. Just be yourself. You've always been more than enough, Able Mabel."

Blinking moisture from her eyes, Mabel dipped her chin. Was it middle-aged that'd mellowed Y/N, made her better at comfort rather than immediate investigation? Or had Arthur nurtured her heart by giving it a place to rest? Whatever the cause, it was a welcome change.

With the success of her second marriage, however, maybe she could solve a little, too. 

Mabel pushed abandoned grains of rice with her spoon. "I had been looking forward to having more time with Ed."

"Has he gone back to working around the clock?"

"No, no. He's home for dinner every night. But with school projects and potty training and story hour and baseball practice and scouting... Sometimes I forget what it's like to be a wife." A sip of coke as she checked on Ashley. The girl continued to ride in circles. "You love being a wife," Mabel continued. "What's the longest you and Arthur have gone without...you know."

Y/N dabbed at her mouth with the corner of her napkin. After a moment, she gave a small shrug. "A month or two?"

Mabel's jaw hung open. "That's it?" It'd been nearly six for she and Ed. Their last attempt had been cut short by Ruthie's knock on their bedroom door to ask for water - just as her underwire had been unhooked. They'd left a glass on her nightstand every night thereafter. But the spark continued to elude.

"Our lives are quieter," Y/N said, waving the unspoken comparison away. "And you've been married, what, eighteen years? That's much longer than four. Have you talked about this at all with Ed?"

A resigned sigh heaved out of Mabel. "Whenever I start, something comes up."

"It doesn't have to be a long, drawn-out trial. Maybe you can suggest listening to Dr. Sally. Have you heard of her? She's from Gotham and Arthur swears by her. He says she taught him everything he knows. Well, everything he knew before we..." Crimson colored her cheeks, her lips pressed together in a pensive grin. "I don't know if I should tell you, but- Can you keep a secret?"

Mabel grasped the bottom of her chair and hopped it forward. "I love secrets."

"When he and I met, he hadn't been with a woman before. Not like that, anyway."

Nose wrinkled, Mabel tilted her head, her entire face squinting. No, Arthur wasn't her type. But she knew a good man when she met one. And a good looking man when she saw one. "How is that possible?"

Y/N snorted, loud enough to muffle it with the back of her hand. "That was my reaction. It was a lot of pressure; I don't think Arthur realizes that. But I wanted him and loved him and that won out.

"I asked him once if he felt like he'd missed out on anything, having only been with me. He said no, because he's comfortable with me and knows I care about him. Anyway, he gave Dr. Sally full credit for being wonderful. I'm sure the show is syndicated down here."

The twinkle of romance and true love in her sister's eye left Mabel fully convinced. She picked up a crayon and folded the placemat in half. "I'll call the local radio stations."

~~~~~

Meanwhile, Ed and Arthur rode the escalator to the mall's second story. For Ed, it was the only escalator in the county. For Arthur, it was simply a way to get upstairs. 

He trailed his brother-in-law past a soap and scented candle shop, an avalanche of perfume pouring out of the place. A silver engraving shop stood to their left, hawking the likes of picture frames, wedding cake serving sets, and doorknobs. They dodged a group of teenagers who should've been in school to arrive at a glass storefront tucked into the corner.

City Drawers' cursive sign was a thrill in pink neon. Muzak masquerading as jazz sounded through the open entrance. Two mannequins stood in the shop's windows, illuminated by spotlights at their feet. One wore a lace bra and panty set, the other a diaphanous camisole with a cowl neck. A hanging sign announced a sale on Maidenform: Buy one, Get one half off.

Arthur chewed his thumbnail.

Donahue's and L. Ballinger carried styles both he and Y/N liked, without intimidating buckles or oddly placed straps. Specialty shops were expensive. Though he'd happily picture her in every display, going to a boutique bordering on Adults Only made shopping an event he had the wrong ticket to, purchased for a week-old show. 

With a casualness Arthur envied, Ed crossed the black tile threshold, stealing Arthur's chance to back away and backtrack to Hecht's.

Forcing out a breath, he shoved his hands in his pockets. Made the decision to get over himself and stepped into the welcoming peach interior.

Low lighting gave the shop an air of intrigue, flattered the stitching, the promised silhouette of each item. A woman and high school student discussed the finer points of choosing a first bra. ("You don't want it to stick out too much under your sweaters." "Mom!") Cheeks on fire, he turned away from the conversation meant for mothers and daughters to see a husband and wife modeling satin robes. A cashier dressed like a consummate professional, as if she belonged in Y/N's office, told a woman in a puffy coat that underwear was returnable only if unopened.

Ed closed in on a Christmas display to the left, where a scantily clad mannequin wore a Mrs. Claus mob hat. He grabbed a Santa red negligee and gave it a once over. "Think Mabel'd like this?" he asked, thrusting it towards Arthur.

One glance at the faux fur trimmed neckline and it was clear Y/N would hate it. "She'd love it."

Relief palpable in his easy smile, Ed nodded his thanks and headed to the Famous Fragrances cabinet at the rear of the shop.

Arthur slinked along the wall, passing feather boas and garter belts. (The black one with pale pink roses on the hips was an omen to follow when they returned to Gotham City.) A man on the hunt for a gift that wouldn't be embarrassing to give his wife in front of her family. In front of her nephews and nieces.

Forgotten on a bottom shelf under dust and elbow length gloves, he found his trophy.

Knee high wool socks, lilac and knit in a pointelle pattern akin to lace. He took the pair in his grasp, ran his fingertips from cuff to toe. Every past piece of thrift store wool had been a scouring pad on his skin. These were smooth, buttery. He could imagine her calves wrapped up in these subtle cousins to stockings, a long-awaited present under the tree.

A lyric came to mind, an old song he'd gone too long without hearing. Humming a few bars, he sang in his head. You're the starch in my collar, you're the lace in my shoe...

Arthur hurried to the register, but turned back at the last second and stuck the garter belt under his arm.

He placed the socks on the counter, indicated them with his chin. "Can you put those in a box? With a ribbon on it?" He slid the garter across the surface and leaned forward. "And could you please wrap this separately?"

~~~~~

Snug in the tub, Y/N's eyelids fell shut as she massaged almond shampoo into her scalp. The circling slowed as she exhaled contentment. After cramming two major holidays and the preparations for a third into a mere nine days, she'd savor this second to relax. 

The notion twisted the corner of her mouth, a crescent of irony. 

That she'd be able to relax here at all would've been laughable before, when shadows had lurked in every corner and out in the open to confront her with what she'd lost. Arthur's compassion and Mabel's letting the subject of their parents alone now allowed Y/N to cope on her own terms. 

The adjoining guestroom wasn't simply her father's former office, where she'd been forced to accept the gravity of Henry's diagnosis. It was also a bedroom where she could rest at the end of the day. The bathroom was more than an old examination room, forest green and warm, where her father had crowned his four-year-old daughter with a head mirror and tested her reflexes. It was a place unwind. To cleanse her skin and her heart. Twin threads of past and present that entwined themselves into a semblance of peace.

Locks rinsed and detangled, she swiped her hair back and reached for her wet-dry electric razor.

A light tap tap rapped at the door.

She'd recognize her husband's Excuse Me knock anywhere. But with a full house, doublechecking was safer. "Who is it?"

"It's Arthur."

At her instant invitation, he slid through the door. He'd donned his maroon sweater - as he had every day since she'd told him he'd look gorgeous in it.

She'd been right.

He tucked a stray curl behind his ear and turned towards the toilet. "Sorry, the other bathroom's busy. I'll be quick." He lifted the cover and seat and unzipped his trousers. 

Razor perpendicular to her shin, she started to drag it in a straight line to her knee. 

It sputtered like an old engine, gaining and losing speed in an attempt to complete its mission. She hit the bottom with the heel of her hand. Flipped the switch off and back on. A pathetic whirr, which slowed to a worrying grind. Then a final, sad stop.

With a huff, she set it on the tub's corner shelf. "I should've charged this before we left."

He shook himself off, cocked his head her way. "Maybe Mabel has one? I can go check."

"You don't have to bother."

Arthur waved her off, insisted it wasn't one at all. He rinsed his hands and stepped out. Grin tight enough to pinch, she scrubbed at her armpits and breasts. Noted a hair by her aerola she'd have to pluck later. The washcloth slid across her stomach, the feminine swell of her abdomen. A quick dip between her legs.

The door swung ajar. Extending his palm with a flourish, Arthur beamed down at her.

Eyes wide, the entirety of her attention shot to the Pink Daisy Gillette.

She hadn't used a wet razor for five years, had banished them from the apartment as soon as he'd agreed to move in. Since he'd asked her to keep them away from him. Sure, if a matter was important, she was a risk taker. Being stubble free for one extra day didn't make the cut.

Y/N reached to take it from him. A bit too fast. "Thank you."

"Actually, I-" He held the forbidden object in front of his chest, twirled it between anxious fingers. "I'd like to do it."

She drew her feet inward. Concern felt silly, an unwelcome heckler. A true intrusion on their intimacy. But given Arthur's history, it made sense. And Dr. Ludlow had agreed keeping razor blades out of the apartment was a good idea.

As if able to read her thoughts, he winced at the floor, a move that felt too close to shame. He spoke with the wounded dignity of the earnest yet disbelieved. "I've been okay for a long time now."

An ache pressed her sternum, for she did indeed believe him. He'd trusted her two years ago, had taken the good with the very, very bad. Shouldn't she be able to trust him? Refrain from making a normal activity - a loving gesture he'd asked for - a crossroads to crisis? 

She pushed the worries from her throat with an ahem. "You're right. I'm sorry."

His handsome visage instantly brightened. 

Loosening her legs, she wrung out her washcloth. "You're going to get all wet."

"I'll dry."

"What about your pants?"

"They come off."

It was said without guile, but she chuckled, anyway. She retrieved the soap. Worked up a good lather. Smoothed suds down her left leg.

His teeth pressed his lower lip in an eager grin. Perching on the rim of the tub, he pushed his sleeves to his elbows. Bent to pluck her towel from the floor and cover his lap. A secure hold on her heel as he pulled her into position.

Gently, he laid the blade a centimeter below her knee and drew it towards him. A glance of a touch.

"A little harder," she said. "Leg hair is stubborn."

"I don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't." She lay in the curved end of the tub. "How old were you when you started to shave?"

"Fourteen, I think." A soft, closed-mouth laugh. "One night, when Penny and her boyfriend were gone? I stole his razor and shaving cream. I must've used half the can." Short scrapes at the front of Y/N's ankle. "I pressed so hard to get through all the foam, I got a burn. It hurt so bad. My mother asked what was wrong with my face. I told her I'd been out in the sun too long - in February."

Giggling, Y/N tossed her head back. "I'm sure you were very convincing. Speaking of which: I have to convince Mabel to tone it down for Christmas."

"Isn't that why she invited us down here?"

"Yes, but she's going to cook herself to death." At Thanksgiving, Y/N hadn't been able to see the table for all the food. What with their household being too small for a full spread, she and Arthur stuck to a chicken or a couple of turkey breasts. "She likes to make a big dinner for Christmas Eve and a breakfast buffet in the morning."

The tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips. "We could make dinner and breakfast."

Y/N gulped against unbidden images floating to the surface. She hadn't cooked a holiday meal here for eight years, and the last had been an exercise in heartbreak. Mashed up food, saliva on cotton, fear pretending to be revulsion on the faces of her family. Benji's Very Own Christmas Story on TV to tide keep her father calm and an entire bottle of Sanatogen to calm herself. 

Yet, the idea was lovely, a reflection of her husband's generosity and kindness. Putting her baggage on him would be ungenerous and unkind. And, just maybe, it could be an opportunity she wouldn't have taken on her own.

She studied the ripples in the water. Concentrated on the pressure of his fingertips on her skin. Glides of metal and aloe. "Stroganoff?"

"That's special for us." Arthur squeezed the subtle half-moon of her calf.

Fuzzy fluttering fleeted through her, at the squeeze and the us. They decided on glazed ham, a dish her mother had made every year. Y/N made a mental note to peruse the oldBetter Homes & Gardens cookbook, the checkered one with the side pocket. "We can make garlic mashed potatoes, too. If we double the recipe, it'll be enough for eight." Broccoli and cheese casserole would serve as a second side, of which Arthur would claim all the crispy corners. Stuffing out of three boxes. All that was left was dessert.

He shook the razor in the bathwater. "Gingerbread's good."

"I'll add a can of whipped cream to the grocery list."

Pecking the arch of her foot, he scooted along the tub's rim. Angled her leg so that her thigh rested on his. The razor whispered a line within an inch of her groin. Puffs of her breath skimmed her flesh. Her tendons tightened. Her knee jerked against his touch.

He knelt beside the tub to gather water in his hands. Slipped them down her legs. He rinsed her again, his expression melting into satisfaction. "You're beautiful," he said, palm sliding to her hip. His green gaze dropped to her mouth, his caress now a firm grip.

Then his lips seized hers.

A startled gasp jolted her. 

What Arthur had just done was romantic. Wonderful. An act out of a shared fantasy. If they'd been anywhere else, a delicious weight would've warmed her belly. But that old forest green seeped in at the edges of her mind's eye, pulled the thread of past askew. Now that weight felt like a bowling ball.

She broke off the kiss. Embarrassed whispers between bottled breaths. "Arthur, I-" Her fingers curled, a loose fist by his cheek. "I can't. Not here."

Drops fell from his wrist to her sternum. Charted paths to the notch at the base of her throat. Silence weighed down on her, a whole league's worth of bowling balls.

Swallowing, she raised her eyes to meet his. 

When they did, understanding softened his brow. His voice was low, soft. A comfort as powerful as present thread. "It's okay." He retreated to sit on his heels and dry his hands, chestnut waves falling to frame his sculpted cheeks. He stood and bent to peck the top of her head. "You better do that other leg yourself." With that, he turned to leave.

She scrambled to sit up. "Arthur?"

Hand on the doorknob, he looked back at her.

"I love you," she said.

Dimples deepening, he bestowed a shy, radiant smile. "I know."

~~~~~

Mabel placed the Santa mug with the candy cane handle on the windowsill to finish trimming the tree. It was situated by the front window, about a yard from the guestroom. Ed and Jason had disappeared to the basement to search for decorations. One of Ruthie's favorite records played, John Denver and the Muppets' A Christmas Together. 

Arthur knelt beside Mabel. On the opposite side of the living room, Y/N and the three youngest children worked on paper snowflakes in the play corner. Few words had passed between them, but the quiet was the kind that belonged to old marrieds who were confident in their choice of each other. Irritated, in love, invested. There'd be no running to the watering hole today.

Nevertheless, Mabel sought to gladden the place. Trimming the tree was one of her favorite rituals, right up there with reading The Night Before Christmas and stuffing stockings. There was no way she'd allow grumpiness to gel into gloom.

Digging through a popcorn tin overflowing with ornaments, each wrapped carefully in a sandwich bag, she said, "Don't be surprised if the munchkins are knocking on your door at five tomorrow." 

"That's okay. I don't let Y/N sleep in on Christmas." He hung a stained-glass rocking horse on a middle branch of the artificial tree. "You know, she still has the cookie you made her when you were kids. In the toy oven."

"Does she really?" 

"She hangs it up every year."

Mabel retrieved another satin bauble, this one from the Keepsake series of ornaments. "Holidays are happy when friends are together" it declared. The phrase brought a pleasant smile to her face and a quickening to her heart. 

Y/N's offer to give her a break by preparing Christmas dinner had been a surprise, a true act of affection Mabel had to accept. But when Y/N had said she was going to prepare everything herself, Arthur's brow furrowed into one thick caterpillar. It was an obvious deviation from how this conversation was supposed to go. 

Familiar with how hard it was on him to feel shut out, Mabel rescued Arthur from his skepticism with an invitation to make dessert. Dessert wasn't technically a part of dinner and therefore fair game. Though she'd planned on chocolate and pecan pinwheels, they settled on gingerbread cookies and spent the morning rolling dough and downing coffee. 

During their third round of cookie cutting, she'd said, "These are perfect. Have you made them before?" 

"Penny had a gingerbread recipe on the wall in the kitchen," he'd said. Another drummer boy emerged from the brown dough. "I can't remember making it, but I know I dropped a bag of flour. She smeared it on our faces and told me, 'Every real cook has flour on his cheeks.'"

Mabel's laugh had dissolved into a wistful sigh. From what Y/N had shared, discussions about his childhood were rare and memories that made him smile even rarer. With a sprinkle of flour on both their noses, they'd put the cookie sheet on the middle oven rack and set the timer.

Miss Piggy's shrill plea for five golden rings cut through the recollection. Eyelid twitching, Mabel straightened the hanger of a Baby's First Christmas ceramic bootie and called to her sister. "Remember when we were kids, and we'd sing along to the radio?"

With a nod, Y/N folded white construction paper into a triangle. "And at the Silver Spur." She sang softly, a relief from the record's caterwauling. "Country road, take me home to the place I belong-"

"Gotham City," Mabel joined in. "Jersey highway."

The twitch teasing Arthur's chin defied the set of his jaw.

"When you put it like that, you almost make it sound romantic," Y/N said. 

Just then, Ed thudded into the room, lugging a box of plastic garland. Haphazard leaves and berries sprouted from the cardboard box. Nose buried in an LCD hockey game, Jason followed close behind. Ed asked, "Hey, do you do any Christmas standup shows?"

"One or two at the usual clubs." Arthur stood to toss handfuls of Brite Star tinsel at the tree. "How did the wife get her husband to go to the office party?"

"Jason, put that away and help me with this." Ed plunked the box to the carpet with a groan. "I don't know. How?"

"By telling him, 'yule love it.'" An elongated u for pun's sake.

Stifling a giggle, Mabel shook her head. His jokes hadn't gotten much better, but his ability to make her smile won her over. 

"And it always works."Y/N extricated herself from scraps of paper, then checked her watch. "I better start dinner," she said, and excused herself from the room.

In her peripheral vision, Mabel caught Arthur's rapid blink. His posture threatened to deflate like an old tire. "I thought she was doing better this time," he mumbled.

"She is, Arthur. She is." In the manner of a mother assigning a sullen son the most important task - as her own mother had done for her after Y/N had moved out - Mabel patted his shoulder. "If you could find the tree topper, that'd be a big help."

~~~~~

Arms folded across his chest, Arthur braced himself on the doorframe, careful to keep his toes on the foyer side of the floor's transition strip and off the kitchen linoleum.

The side of Y/N's hand smoothed a crimson tablecloth over the oblong dining table. She laid a plastic wreath in the middle, completed the centerpiece with three ivory candles inside the ring. She retrieved eight quilted placemats featuring Christmas geese from the drawer to the left of the stove and pulled cloth napkins from the cupboard to the right. She knew where everything was without asking. As if she'd left here yesterday.

When he'd suggested making dinner, bumming around while Y/N roleplayed 1978 wasn't what he'd had in mind. Standing by like an extra as she measured brown sugar and honey. Loitering while she shoved broccoli in Corning Ware and sprinkled it with cheese.

Given that it didn't quite fit her bustline, the velveteen, emerald halter dress she wore must've been borrowed from Mabel. Y/N's hair was feathered in the usual manner, but with extra body that meant she'd used mousse and a curling iron. Earth tone makeup highlighted her natural prettiness, save for the red stain on her lips. Poinsettias dangled from her ears, a Beauty Boutique original. 

She opened a panel cabinet over the sink, then grabbed a stepstool to peek inside. Kitten-heeled foot extended behind her, she retrieved a stack of plates. Her shoe threatened to fall to the floor. When she teetered, he offered to steady her. But she declined. Descended backwards step by step. Put the plates on the counter with a soft but unwavering "I've got it."

His cheek ached from gnawing. Out of respect for her, he hadn't argued in front of her sister. But doing this as a couple - as a family - had been what he'd craved.

So he slid across the linoleum to inspect the plates. Trace his thumb over the cheery holly motif along the edges.

She whisked the dishes away. "I'll light the candles when the food is done," she said, a hitch in her voice she failed to hide.

He half-turned to her. Noted the upward draw of her shoulders, elbows tight at her sides. She set matching tumblers at the two o'clock positions by each plate. He longed to fold the cloth napkins. He longed to take out the cutlery.

He longed to pry.

Lips pressed to a sore line, he recalled their fight when he'd cornered her in the shower, one of the worst arguments they'd ever had. He was loathe to follow that road again. Instead, he grabbed a cooking spoon, stirred the mashed potatoes, and searched for compromise. 

Before he could err, she crossed to stand two feet from him. Leaning back against the counter, she gripped the Formica edge with both hands. Her fingers went white.

"When I lived here," she started. "I did all the Christmas decorating and cooking. I loved it. It was a day I could pretend my life was normal, just for an hour or two. Mabel and Ed would bring the kids. We'd drink cocoa and open gifts and have a little fun. Except that last year."

Arthur's stirring slowed, every fiber waiting with want for all of it. All of her.

"I wanted to keep my spirit up or touch my dad in some way." A familiar, familial word she never used. It was always father. "But the harder I tried, the worse it was. He wouldn't eat and wouldn't stop crying. When I washed him, he tried to push me away, but he was too weak - his arms were matchsticks. He must've been scared - he wasn't really with it by then. And he scared Mabel and the kids and..."

Lashing fluttering, she sucked her teeth. "The man who'd nurtured me, who'd loved me, wasn't there anymore. He was possessed by a stranger I didn't want to know. And being here - having to stay in this house - was like trying to live inside a ghost."

In spite of the watery tenor of her voice, she offered Arthur a tremulous smile. "Tonight it doesn't feel so haunted." 

An anxious dam gave way, crumbling to flood love through his frame. He understood, then. Doing all this by herself standing here alone, was a ritual to exorcise her past. He reached for her wrist, pulled her to his side with one arm. When she put her head on his shoulder, he dropped the cooking spoon into the goopy mass. 

Her palms pressed his back. "I'm happy to be able to share this part of me now." 

"Me, too. I mean, I'm happy you shared it with me, too." He buried his face in her hair, let out a huff equal parts support and relief. "I want you to share everything."

Seconds of silence before her lips made a smacking sound on her teeth, and he knew she was grinning.

Ever the woman to push down her feelings a tad too quickly (except for love; thank whatever was listening there was always love), she stepped out his arms, wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. The crockpot let out an air raid warning of a beep.

She took a box of matches from the corner of the windowsill above the sink and pressed it into his palm. Offered a luminous look and invited him into her past. "You light the candles and I'll serve."

~~~~~

Blue wrapping paper with silver bells and holly. Little bears wishing little ones Merry Christmas on pine green. Gold and red foil interweaving in an intricate scroll. The four-by-four space under the tree contained enough color and excitement to fill a North Pole workshop.

Hair tugged into a haphazard ponytail and replete in fuzzy slippers, Mabel dropped onto a chair next to Ed and attempted to squint away her dull headache. The adults had stayed up until 1:00 AM last night, wrapping boxes, drinking cocoa, and carrying on. After dinner, Arthur had nibbled at the gingerbread cookies until he'd had to take two Tums - then surprised everyone by claiming the last slice of Thanksgiving's pumpkin pie.

Clad in their lazy morning best, Arthur and Y/N sat hip to hip in front of the tree. She'd yanked on the lavender socks with the enthusiasm of having found a long-lost treasure. He munched on the macadamia nuts Mabel had thought would make a lame gift, but Y/N had insisted he'd love. The cowhide wallet she'd given him lay open on his lap, the card slot's gold leaf letters reading "A + S" followed by a heart on display. Cheesy. Seemingly out of character for Big Sis. But she glowed whenever she talked about him. She'd gotten starry eyed about Jeff but never glowed. 

Once she'd unwrapped Mabel's present to her, she held it in both hands but hesitated to open it. The photo album risked melancholy, but Mabel hoped Y/N would be able to find joy, too. 

"Those are photos of us," Mabel assured her. At that, Y/N lifted the front cover. The first was a black and white featuring four year old Y/N cross-legged on the floor, the new baby in her arms, a big grin on her face. "I took the best pictures from all of mom and dad's photo albums. They start from when we were little and go until our visit last year. And there are blank pages for more." 

Hugging the album to her chest, Y/N made a promise. "There'll be more. A lot more."

Ruthie helped Ashley put one of her Wuzzles reading cassettes in her Fisher Price tape player, while Ashley patted Ruthie's jewelry box's quilted surface as if it were a cat. Jason let Brian try out his new baseball mitt, and Brian put his feet on the coffee table and flipped through his Experiments in Ecology book. 

Ed's morning breath stank of garlic from gourmet pickles. Already wearing his new Casio calculator watch, he flipped through the manual of the AT&T cordless phone, a gift Mabel hoped meant Y/N wanted more phone calls. The Thai script on the curry pastes was something Mabel had never seen before, but Y/N promised that if she could cook with them, anyone could figure it out. ("Just add vegetables and chicken and you're good.")

When Mabel unwrapped the present from her hubby, she recognized the logo as soon as she glimpsed the outline of a petal. She'd kept the box shut. Warmth enveloped her. He'd made her feel beautiful again, in that special way she'd reminisced. In the way that belonged to them. 

No matter what she'd confided in the mall, the moments she struggled were worth it. Still there, still hard. But she'd do her best to follow her sister's advice. Make sure to enjoy herself as a mother, a wife, and herself. 

And Dr. Sally would remain on-call.

Mabel called Ruthie to her side and spoke in her ear. Loud enough for all to hear but quiet enough to make the girl feel special. "Can you and your brothers set the table?" 

Ruthie nodded and skipped her way to the foyer. When the boys remained glued to the sofa, Ed rose with a Come On, Sons gesture. Arthur plucked a candy cane from tree, then plucked Ashley from the carpet and carried her to the kitchen.

Mabel grabbed a purple bow from the carpet, winced as she straightened, a barbel rolling from her forehead to her neck. "The next time you suggest spiking a drink, remind me to say no."

Anchoring herself on the coffee table, Y/N moved to stand. "I'll put on an extra pot of coffee." She gathered strewn wrapping paper and ribbon and crumpled them into a ball. "Make sure you take it easy when Thanksgiving and Christmas roll around."

"Ed's parents are hosting," Mabel said, and waved off her concern. With his sister stuck in Michigan this year, it'd be a smaller gathering. With his big brother around, Ed would regress to being the youngest as soon as he smelled a pie in the oven.

Arms overflowing, they padded towards the kitchen. But they lingered halfway there to bask in the magic of Not Quite Christmas. 

Ed worked around the kids, handing them plates, directing where to put them. Arthur retrieved a mixing bowl and frying pan in preparation for cinnamon French Toast, a tradition he'd brought from the Fleck household. While Ed searched the cupboards, Arthur crouched beside Ashley, who laughed at her uncle between rounds of peek-a-boo.

"You made this visit beautiful, Mabel. Mom would be proud of you." Y/N freed up an arm and hugged her at the waist. Spoke the words Mabel had longed to hear for the better part of a decade. The words that made the wheels of self-forgiveness run ten times faster. "After all these years, I think we both found what we've been looking for."

Elated, Mabel dropped the paper to the floor. "I know I have." She seized Y/N about the middle, hard enough to lift her to her toes. "I know we have."

~~~~~

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