#Warm Cold Night in the Nine Heavens

[kdram-chjh]

Cdrama: Warm on a Cold Night (2023)

Warm On A Cold Night #chinesedrama

Watch this video on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/d83WMbrKjyA

[dramasauce]

Warm On a Cold Night (2023)-Obliviously “watching the girl you like go off with her boyfriend”

[starlightsuffered]

Needy Boy Tries No Nut November (part 1)

Info - needy boy, no sex challenge, argument, teasing, attempted cock warming

“You,” I scoffed.

“Yes me,” he said stoically.

“The boy who came in me fives times on October thirty first is going to attempt No Nut November,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Me and my friends made a deal, I plan to stick with it,” he nodded.

“Do your friends know you?”

“I would hope my friends don’t know how often I enjoy cumming inside you,” he snapped. I could tell he was already regretting his decision.

“You didn’t happen to think to ask me if I was okay with going a month without sex?” I asked.

“You can still get off,” he shrugged.

“You won’t last,” I chuckled. “No way no how.”

“Yes I will!”

“No you won’t Timothée, you’ll be doing the walk of shame to your boys within the week, if not sooner,” I smirked.

“You’re so mean,” he pouted.

“Yeah, am I mean pretty boy?” I asked, running a hand down my body and lifting my skirt slightly to show off my lacy panties. He whimpered. I swung my leg over him and straddled his lap. I began to kiss him heatedly. He responded eagerly.

He was moaning into my mouth and I let him remove my shirt. He massaged my breasts overtop of my bra. I felt him grow hard underneath me and smirked, I knew it was time to pull back.

“Why, why, why d’you stop,” his words were slurred with lust.

“No Nut November Timothée,” I reminded him.

“Fuuuuuuuck!” He snapped.

Throughout the day I did little things I knew drove him crazy. I would put my boobs or ass in his face while getting something. I giggled a lot. I bit my lip. I was touchy with him. I even had a two fake phone conversations, one to talk about how I had to masturbate now because of Timothée’s decision, because he hated me masturbating. The second was about how much I loved his cock and cum and how big he was. Neither was too terribly odd me for, I was an open person so both phone calls were plausible.

Finally, night came and we slipped into bed. I snuggled back against Timothée and as I expected, he was incredibly hard. I reached back, pretending to need a blanket but I grabbed his full balls instead.

“Ohhh,” he moaned.

“Sorry, I mean to get the blanket,” I said and got it to add a layer of warmth. I nestled down, pretending I was trying to get comfortable, but really it was just so I could rub my ass on him. I heard a whine and smirked.

“Sorry baby and I bothering you?” I asked.

“C-could you face me?” He asked. I did as he asked and fluttered my eyelashes.

“Fuck, this is even worse,” he muttered to himself.

“Something the matter?” I asked innocently.

“Can I put my cock in you?” He asked.

“No Nut-“

“I won’t be cumming, just some comfort, quiting cold Turkey is hard,” he pouted.

“Sure Timmy, just don’t cum,” I reminded him. I hadn’t worn underwear out of habit. He nestled his cock inside me.

“Mmmmm, feels good, tight,” he said. I closed my eyes, and sighed happily. But then, thrust.

“Timothée,” I wanted.

“Just one thrust won’t hurt,” he said, but I caught him tugging on his heavy balls, trying to get some relief.

“Okay,” I said. Then he did it again.

“Timmy,” I giggled.

“Just, just, three more,” he begged, and thrusted three more times, his cock absolutely quivering inside me with need.

“Ohhhh, ho, ho, my baaaaaalls,” he wailed.

“Don’t worry baby, only twenty nine more days,” I said with mock comfort.

“Twenty nine,” he squeaked and then he was over me and fucking me harder than he ever had.

“Baby, your promise,” I reminded.

“M’not gonna cum, just need to feel good,” he whined. He was so fast and needy.

“So good, fucking love this cunt!” He gasped as he fucked into me wildly.

“Oh Timmy, you’re so hard, your big heavy balls are slapping me baby,” I heaved.

“Yeah they are, you love it when I fuck you don’t you?” He asked.

“I do, I love it!” I cried. “And I love your cum, wish you could fill me up.”

“Oh I wanna, need to empty my balls. Damn baby, did you do something different, you feel like heaven,” he whimpered.

“No Timmy just me,” I said, blushing at his compliment.

“Fucking love just you,” he said.

“Baby, you’re going crazy,” I said, watching his hips drilling into me wildly.

“Je pense que je pourrais mourir si je ne peux pas remplir cette chatte de sperme ! Putain de merde, putain j'en ai besoin, j'ai besoin de verser mon sperme en toi !"

I recognized some words that he normally said.

“You said you weren’t gonna cum baby,” I reminded him.

“Not gonna, just saying what I wish,” he choked out.

“I’m gonna stop,” he said and slowed down, but as he did he started going deeper, moving to an angle that felt particularly good.

“Timothée!” I cried sharply as his slow thrust hit me in a sweet spot. I came, arching and seeing stars as I whimpered his name.

“I’m not gonna, not gonna, oh fuck I’m going to! No, I’m-“ he cut himself off by unleashing a fountain of cum inside me.

“I didn’t mean it,” he whined as he filled me. Ten ropes of cum shot inside me as he panted. I moaned as I enjoyed the full feeling.

“You failed within twenty four hours,” I gloated.

“Oh shut up, I have my reasons,” he snapped.

“And they are?” I asked.

“One, I didn’t want to do it anyone, two, my friends don’t have access to your pussy, because they’d fail too, and three this is dumb,” he ended on a whine.

“Well to be fair I thought it was dumb too,” I said, gathering him in my arms.

“Good,” he said kissing my forehead. “Let’s go again, gotta make up for the day.”

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet t @vvsdreaming @lovelyrocker

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Seven

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Oh god the FLUFF

Notes: I did this one a little different, I tried sort of a true dual POV and it’s got me fucked up y’all-goddamn. Don’t ask me where the fuck this came from because I have no thoughts, head fucking empty. I just - I can’t, just read it.

Word Count: 1287

Series Masterlist

• March 28th, 2006 • Forks HS •

Reader

I give up.

Striding from my locker, I interrupt Jasper and his conversation with Alice, pushing him towards the familiar small alcove below the stairs.

I breathe heavily, working up the nerve to ask him what’s been on my mind for an ungodly amount of time. Fuck me, I just miss him so damn much.

“Can I kiss you?” I’m weak, weak for needing him so badly after such a short amount of time, I can’t even look anywhere else than the middle of his chest as I make my request.

He surges forward after a heavy beat of silence once I finish my question, he cages me against the wall, “Be mine.”

His words snatch the oxygen from my body, I glance up to his eyes, “What?”

“Come over this weekend,” his gaze is intense - staring into my very soul, “Let me apologize for the last six months. Give me a shot, darlin’.”

“Okay-” I don’t even finish my answer before he moves to grant my wish.

Oh god.

His lips lay themselves upon mine and I swear time stops. It’s a cliche, but everything else in my life no longer exists aside from his lips on mine. Cold and firm, but gentle and steady. A perfect match, non-dominating or in a hurry, but taking his time. As if he were memorizing the pressure, the taste, the way my own lips moved against his.

As if he were coaxing my soul out into the open, to bask in the warm sun that is his love.

Our mouths slotted perfectly together, familiar, the way my body clicked with his. My arms wind themselves around his neck and he kisses me deeper, more - I need more. Two magnets drawn together, two pieces of torn cloth restitched to be whole again, two halves meant to find their place in each other. I move, tilting my head and he responds in kind, an equal in every way despite our differing mortality.

I almost didn’t get this. This-this summation of feelings and butterflies an-and everything between us that’s built up. The lead weight in my stomach from this realization threatens to yank me from the cloud nine his kiss firmly perched me on.

Tears, fat and heavy roll down my cheeks as I grip his shirt desperately and he pulls away just far enough to inspect my face.

“Why are you crying, sweet girl?”

“I never… I never thought I’d get the chance…” My eyes remain closed, unable to meet his gaze.

“To what?” I can hear the crinkle in his brow just from his voice.

“To kiss you again.”

I hear his sharp intake of breath and I know my words cut deep.

I open my eyes, “You left me and it’s all I’ve ever thought about. I-I-”

“Darlin’,” his turn for his eyes to flutter closed, “I’ve regretted every day since that night. I regret my lapse in control, I regret not having a better grip on myself, to handle these urges.”

“Can you?” My lips ghost over his as I whisper my question, the addiction having taken root. “Can you handle it now?”

A shuddering breath exits his mouth and his eyes snap open, a rare display of my effect on the vampire. “No.”

The answer zaps through me, but he stops me before I could pull away. “No? Jasper-“

“You-I-“ a growl pushes to the surface, giving away his flustered state. “I can’t fucking think for god’s sake.”

Jasper

Fuck me, her mouth is pure sin.

I could lose myself in those lips and never care about resurfacing ever again. Everything she does, from how she tilts her chin to welcome me further, to how her body yields to mine and forms against me, it’s heaven. The burning in my throat is secondary to the pure bliss her kiss envelopes me with.

Not to mention her fucking emotions.

Need, happiness, hunger, relief, contentment. They just keep coming, one after the other and I swear it inflates my chest with a happiness of my own, like a thousand butterflies trapped inside the cage of my ribs.

Love.

It feels like two ribbons entwining, dancing in sync, twisting in ways that create a beautiful tangled mess not soon to be unwound.

Love?

This one is different, I’ve felt love before - it’s shines from Esme’s face on a daily basis, it seeps from the smile lines around Carlisle’s mouth, and it passes through me with every one of Emmett’s hugs. But this? This love? This love is flowing straight from her heart into mine, breathing life into something long cold and dead. This love is meant only for me, only to be shared between mates, this kind of love is meant to be secreted away and only examined in moments of vulnerability between two like souls.

I love her and she loves me.

The thought rocks me to my core and I cup the back of her head as she leans back a little, allowing me to deepen the kiss.

A wetness begins to trickle down her cheeks and it startles me from the trance of her delicious mouth, tears?

I pull back far enough to catch the tear tracks from her tightly closed lids, “Why are you crying, sweet girl?”

“I never… I never thought I’d get the chance…” She trails off, still hiding those gorgeous eyes from me.

“To what?” I furrow my brow, not quite following.

“To kiss you again.”

I inhale quickly to try and soften the blow her words deal straight to my chest. She’s yearned for this moment for months, just like I have.

She finally opens her eyes, “You left me and it’s all I’ve ever thought about. I-I-”

“Darlin’,” it’s my turn for my eyes to flutter closed, “I’ve regretted every day since that night. I regret my lapse in control, I regret not having a better grip on myself, to handle these urges.”

“Can you?” Her lips ghost over my own as she whispers her question, stealing the very thoughts from my brain. “Can you handle it now?”

I exhale a shuddering breath before my eyes snap open, “No.”

“No? Jasper-“

“You-I-“ a growl erupts before I could stop it, frustration at my own thoughts bubbling up. “I can’t fucking think for god’s sake.”

Will this girl ever learn that she controls me? That I bend to her? She has me wrapped securely around her delicate little pinky and she has no idea.

“I need to hunt before this weekend, but I will pick you up Saturday morning at your house.” I promise her, my nose gently rubbing against hers in a soothing motion.

“Okay.” Her breathless reply damn-near brings me to my knees.

“Darlin’?” I question her, slightly amused.

“Hmm?” Her eyes are closed, her emotions are just emanating absolute bliss.

“We still have half a school day to get through.” I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince, her or myself.

“I’m not sure you can convince me to go.” Fuck.

“Darlin’, you gotta help me out here.” I scratch the base of her skull lightly to get her attention and it was definitely the wrong thing to do, her grip tightens on my shirt and her bliss burns a little heavier, almost suffocating me.

“Now why would I do that when I could just kiss you again?” Her eyes crack open, but I’m already in motion.

How could I argue with logic like that? My lips are on hers again before that beautiful pink mouth could part even a fraction.

Love, oh I could get used to this.

Next

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

[earthlybeam]

Happy New Year 2025, everyone! May this new year bring joy, growth, and countless moments of happiness to you all. 🎉🥳🙌 I hope you’re as excited as I am to experience this fresh start together. Here is my special New Year gift I created just for you. Continue to read below for the gift. Enjoy 🥰❤️‍🔥🫶✨

New years special

↓

↓

↓

Elrond Version below (you are his lover within this.)

📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭

The lanterns of Rivendell glowed softly, casting a warm, golden light that bathed the intricate stone balconies in a gentle, welcoming glow. The stars, scattered like diamonds on a velvet sky, twinkled down with quiet brilliance, while a crisp winter wind whispered through the surrounding trees. Though the Elves of Rivendell did not celebrate the passing of time in the way mortals did, Elrond had, for the past eleven years, indulged his beloved’s wish to mark this human tradition. Each year, despite his timeless nature, he had allowed the revelry of New Year’s Eve to take on a significance that had, over time, become more than just a quaint custom to him. Tonight, however, there was something different in the air. You leaned against the cold stone railing of the balcony, your breath visible in the frosty air as it fogged in the night. The view before you was breathtaking—the waterfalls cascading in glistening sheets of ice and mist, the towering, snow-dusted peaks beyond framed by the deepening sky. The cloak Elrond had given you was warm, though, and wrapped tightly around you, its rich blue fabric embroidered with delicate silver stars, their glow almost indistinguishable from the heavens themselves. You felt at peace here in Rivendell, as though time itself had slowed to allow this moment to unfold just for you.

Elrond stood beside you, ever the dignified figure, his presence like the stillness of ancient trees. His face was illuminated by the lanterns’ flickering light, casting shadows that emphasized the sharp lines of his features, but the centuries of wisdom in his eyes were clear. He did not age as humans did, yet tonight, there was an intensity to his gaze—something more than the usual quiet affection he always carried with him. It was as if, despite his calm exterior, there was a storm of emotion swirling beneath the surface, one he had yet to reveal. As the minutes to midnight ticked down, you turned toward him with a playful smile. “It’s almost time,” you murmured, your breath a puff of mist in the night. Elrond’s gaze met yours, and his lips pulled into a faint smile. “Indeed, meleth nín,” he replied in that low, melodic voice that could soothe any fear or worry. “This tradition… it is curious to me, still. Yet, if it brings you joy, I find it more precious than any star in the sky.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “You’ve humored me for eleven years, Elrond. Surely by now, it’s less strange and more… endearing?” His lips quirked upward, an almost imperceptible twinkle in his ageless eyes. “Perhaps,” he mused, his voice rich with both warmth and something deeper. “Perhaps.” The countdown had already begun, the voices of elves in the distance rising in soft, melodic anticipation. You turned your gaze toward the heavens as the first hints of fireworks began to flicker in the sky, faint glimmers of color sparkling in the distance as Rivendell’s younger elves, under Elrond’s careful guidance, prepared for the spectacle. “Ten… Nine…” came the call from far below. Elrond’s focus never left you, and as the seconds dwindled, his eyes studied you with an intensity that made your heart race. He watched every small change in your expression—the way your eyes lit up with the anticipation of the fireworks, how the light from the stars and lanterns reflected in your face, giving you a soft, ethereal glow.

“Eight… Seven…” With a quiet movement, Elrond shifted closer to you. His boots made a faint crunching sound in the snow, breaking the stillness of the night, and you turned your head, meeting his gaze once more. This time, there was something unmistakable in the depth of his eyes—something that seemed to reach beyond the present, as though he were memorizing every detail of this shared moment between you. Your heart skipped a beat at the weight of that unspoken emotion. As the countdown ticked down, Elrond felt a tension he hadn’t anticipated, a fluttering of nerves that surprised him. He, who had lived through countless battles and decisions that affected the fate of kingdoms, now stood on the precipice of something far more intimate—and infinitely more important. This was not just a declaration, a promise—it was a binding, a step into a future that would change everything, both for him and for you. His heart raced, the gravity of the moment pressing down on him, heavier than he had expected. For all his wisdom, his centuries of experience, he had never felt so vulnerable. What if you didn’t understand the depth of what he was offering? What if, after all these years, there was still something unspoken between you, some gap he had missed? There was no turning back once he took this step.

His gaze never left you, your features bathed in the soft glow of lantern light, your eyes wide with anticipation. He felt a sudden, overwhelming need to commit every detail of this moment to memory—the way the stars seemed to shimmer just for you, the sound of your breath in the cold night air, the way your smile brightened the world around him. He swallowed, a rare tightening in his throat. His hand, which had been steady through countless years of war and diplomacy, now trembled ever so slightly as he reached for the ring. It was almost as if time itself held its breath, waiting for the choice he was about to make. Will you say yes? The question echoed in his mind, unspoken but no less real. A thousand years of life had taught him to never be rash, but this moment, this decision—it was his, and his alone. He exhaled slowly, centering himself, and as the final seconds ticked away, he dropped to one knee. The simple movement felt monumental, as though the weight of his entire existence hinged on the words that would soon follow. And yet, despite the nerves, despite the uncertainty, his heart was sure. This was right. This was the step he was meant to take. “Six… Five…”

“Elrond?” you murmured, your voice filled with an uncertainty you hadn’t expected. Something about his presence was different tonight—something more, something you couldn’t yet grasp. He did not answer right away, but instead, with a measured calm, he reached into the folds of his robe. You caught the glint of something small, precious, as he drew out a delicate object. You blinked, a sudden sense of confusion rising in you, but before you could fully process what was happening, Elrond dropped to one knee in a fluid, graceful motion, his posture so deliberate and timeless that for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. The soft crunch of his knee against the snow barely registered in your mind. All that existed, all that mattered, was the sight of him before you—kneeling, as if asking for something more precious than even the stars in the heavens themselves. His movements were slow, measured, and every second stretched out before you like an eternity.

“Two… One…” The final countdown rang in the air, and as the first grand explosion of color erupted across the sky, Elrond held up a small, intricately designed ring, crafted with the same delicate precision as the stars embroidered on your cloak. The silver band was radiant, its gemstone at the center gleaming with an otherworldly light that seemed to capture the very essence of the heavens. “My beloved,” Elrond’s voice broke through the silence, steady and full of emotion that he could no longer keep hidden, “for eleven years, you have brought light and laughter into my life. In all my countless years, I have never known a bond so profound, nor a love so enduring. Will you, ind-nîn (my heart), bind your life with mine, for as long as the stars endure?”

The fireworks exploded in brilliant flashes behind him, their colors filling the sky in a dazzling display. But in that instant, they were but a background to the scene unfolding in front of you. Elrond, a being who had witnessed the rise and fall of entire ages, was now before you, offering you his heart. The weight of the moment struck you like a physical force. For a heartbeat, Elrond remained frozen in place, kneeling before you, his gaze unwavering, holding your attention with an intensity that felt as though he could see into your very soul. His heart was pounding—each beat loud in his chest, echoing the sound of distant thunder from the fireworks above. He had lived through countless centuries, seen kingdoms rise and fall, yet in this moment, with you before him, it felt as though everything he had ever known paled in comparison. The silence between you stretched on, long and fragile, every second drawing out as if time itself were holding its breath. His pulse raced, the weight of his own vulnerability pressing upon him. The cool metal of the ring felt heavy in his hand, the gemstone’s soft glow nothing compared to the radiant light of your eyes as they locked with his. He had prepared himself for this moment, but now, as he waited for your response, uncertainty crept into his chest like a shadow. He could feel the tremor in his fingertips, the quiet gnawing fear that perhaps he had overestimated this, or that he had misjudged everything.

He had always been confident in his wisdom, in his ability to navigate the complexities of time and fate, but this—this was different. This was you. He saw the way you looked at him, and it sent a shiver down his spine. Were you uncertain? Were you perhaps just stunned by the magnitude of the question? Or did you, like him, feel the world slow in that single, fleeting moment? His heart clenched, and yet he remained there, unwavering, as the stars above witnessed the eternity of silence stretching between you. The fireworks continued to burst, but their dazzling colors only seemed to make the quiet space between your words more pronounced. Each explosion of light in the sky seemed to echo in his chest, louder and louder, as though the universe itself was awaiting your answer. He could not read your expression completely. Could not decipher the depth of the silence. And still, he waited. For a long moment, it felt as if the world itself had suspended its motion, leaving only the two of you to exist in the vast expanse of time. Would you say yes? Would you understand the depth of his devotion? Elrond’s mind raced in circles, but deep in his heart, there was no room for doubt. He had asked, and now the answer was in your hands.

You seeing Elrond knelt before you, your heart skipped a beat, and a rush of emotions overwhelmed you. The world seemed to pause, leaving only the two of you in that fragile moment. His gaze, intense and filled with years of affection, seemed to draw you closer, as though he were pulling you into a timeless bond. The question hung in the air, and for a moment, it felt surreal. It was as if everything you had ever hoped for, everything you had dreamed of with him, had suddenly come to fruition in this one instant. Tears welled in your eyes, unbidden, as you fought to steady your breath. This was real. The Elf who had shared your life for so long, who had guided you, protected you, and loved you—he was asking you to spend eternity together. The weight of the question, and the depth of his love, struck you like a tidal wave. The cold air couldn’t dampen the warmth in your chest, the joy that was now flooding through you. Your hand instinctively moved to your chest, as if to hold the overwhelming swell of emotion at bay. You were left speechless, overwhelmed by the beauty and depth of his words, by the way he looked at you as if you were the very light of his life. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to stand still. And then, almost as if some invisible force propelled you forward, your voice trembled, but the answer came naturally, from the very depths of your heart. Finally, your breath broke the silence, your voice trembling with emotion, though it was soft at first. “Yes,” you whispered, the word barely a breath against the cold air. His heart stilled, and for a moment, it seemed as if time had stopped entirely, until you added, louder and stronger, “Yes, Elrond. A thousand times, yes.”

A look of deep relief washed over Elrond's face, softening the ancient lines of his expression. His heart, which had been suspended in uncertain anticipation, now surged with joy as he slid the ring onto your finger with careful hands. The delicate metal settled against your skin like a seal, the cool touch of the ring grounding the moment in time. His gaze lingered on you, his eyes soft and full of tenderness, the weight of centuries of waiting finally lifting from his shoulders. For a heartbeat longer, he held the moment in silence, his body still kneeling before you. He was about to rise, his heart brimming with joy, eager to pull you into his arms, but just as he began to move, a sudden rush of excitement filled you. Without a thought, you pounced. In an uncontainable burst of exhilaration, you jumped into him, arms wrapping around his shoulders, and in an instant, you both were falling to the ground. The soft crunch of snow beneath you muffled the impact as Elrond found himself on his back, pinned beneath you. For a moment, all that filled his senses was the rush of your love and the warmth of your body against his. He blinked in surprise, his breath catching as you straddled him, your hands on his chest, your smile wide and full of unrestrained joy.

Elrond's usual composure faltered for just a moment as he gazed up at you, wide-eyed, the moment of surprise quickly melting into something softer— admiration. He had lived for countless ages, seen kingdoms rise and fall, but in this moment, with you on top of him, your laughter bubbling in the crisp winter air, he felt as though he were witnessing something completely new and unexpected. The sharp contrast between his centuries of stoic calm and this breathless joy filled him with a warmth unlike anything he had known before. His hands instinctively found their place on your waist, steadying you, though it was clear he wasn't eager to move you off. If anything, he welcomed the contact-the closeness, the playful, unexpected intimacy of this moment. He could only laugh softly, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed in the cold night air as he tried to catch his breath. His chest rose and fell beneath you, still slightly stunned by the suddenness of it all.

You were so full of life, so vibrant, that it was impossible not to be swept away by your energy. His heart still raced, not just from the surprise but from the depth of the love that connected you, a love that had woven itself between the two of you over the course of eleven years. He had never expected a proposal to end like this, but it was perfect-more than perfect. It was you. With his hands at your waist, Elrond gently tilted his head back, his dark hair spreading across the snow. He met your gaze, his expression soft and affectionate. There was a playful glint in his eyes now, a side of him that you rarely saw, a glimpse of the Elf lord's rarely shared vulnerability, his deep love for you shining brighter than any star in the sky above Rivendell. Then, without a word, Elrond’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was soft and deliberate, yet brimming with an exuberance that could not be contained. His kiss was tender, full of promise, but there was a playful edge to it—an energy between you both that reflected the years of laughter and shared moments, the depth of the bond that had only grown with time. The kiss was the culmination of everything you had experienced together, a connection that stretched back through countless moments, all leading to this very instant.

It was as though the universe itself paused. The world around you—the soft crunch of snow beneath you, the crisp night air, the faint sound of fireworks bursting in the distance—all faded into the background. In that moment, there was only the two of you: your hearts racing, the warmth of Elrond’s embrace melting the cold of the winter night, and the gentle brush of your lips against his. Your hands instinctively pressed against his chest, as though neither of you wanted to let go, even for a second. His hand cupped the back of your head, holding you gently but firmly, deepening the kiss, and you responded in kind, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into your very soul. Elrond’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer, his body strong and unyielding beneath you as if he never wanted to let you go. His chest rose and fell against yours, the beat of his heart steady but quickened in the same rhythm as yours. You could feel his warmth through the layers of clothing, the beating of his heart beneath your hands, and for a brief moment, it felt as though you were one with him. The world outside no longer mattered—only this quiet, sacred moment, where nothing but the connection between you two existed.

Your laughter bubbled up in unison, soft and filled with joy, as it had so many times before in the eleven years you had been together. But this time, it felt different—freer, deeper, as if the weight of the years had been shed in an instant, leaving only lightness and love. There was no need for words—none at all. The kiss, the laughter, the press of your bodies against one another, spoke more than any spoken vow ever could. The promise between you was tangible, existing in the way your heartbeats matched, the way your lips moved together, the way your bodies fit so seamlessly against each other. As the kiss broke, you found yourself breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. Your lips lingered near his, your breath mingling in the cold air, and for a long moment, neither of you moved. You could feel his steady gaze upon you, his dark eyes filled with a love that transcended time. There was no rush to move, no need for anything more. The moment was perfect as it was—simple and pure, filled with everything that had brought you here, to this moment of love, of eternity.

The fireworks continued to explode in brilliant colors above you, but they felt distant now. Their light seemed almost insignificant compared to the brilliance that radiated from the connection you shared. The stars above Rivendell shone as brightly as they ever had, but in that instant, it was as though the universe itself had paused to watch, to witness the eternal bond being sealed in the snow, beneath the endless sky. As Elrond held you close, you sank further into his embrace, his body a comforting fortress against the cold. You both lay there, wrapped in each other, your laughter still lingering in the air, the quiet of the night surrounding you. The world had melted away, leaving only the two of you in this sacred space—your love as eternal as the stars above Rivendell. And there, beneath the heavens, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would always have each other, bound together for all time.

As the warmth of the moment lingered, the sound of the fireworks finally fading into the distance, you couldn’t resist a playful glint in your eye. Still nestled against Elrond, the exhilaration of the kiss and the shared joy of the proposal bubbling within you, a mischievous smile spread across your face. Leaning in, you whispered against his pointy elven ear, your breath warm against his skin, “You look so good on your knees for me, Elrond. But I must say, you look just as good pinned beneath me.” You pulled back slightly to see his reaction, your smile wide with playful teasing. Elrond’s eyes went wide for a moment, his expression a perfect blend of surprise and amusement. He blinked at you, his lips parting as if to speak, but then he let out a soft laugh—one that was low and rich with affection. His gaze held yours, dark and intense, but there was a twinkle of admiration in his eyes, as though he was utterly captivated by your boldness. His cheeks flushed, a subtle but unmistakable tint coloring his usually composed features. “Well,” he began, his voice low and smooth, a playful edge creeping into his tone, “it seems I will have to remind you that I am, indeed, far more skilled in other matters than simply getting on my knees for you.” He leaned up slightly, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “But I do find it rather hard to resist the way you keep me on my knees, meleth nín,” he added softly, his breath warm against your skin. “And as for being pinned beneath you… I must admit, I don’t mind in the slightest. Not when it’s you.” His hand, which had been resting at your waist, now moved, teasingly grazing your side in a light tickle. You gasped softly, taken by surprise, and a deep laugh rumbled from him as he pulled back slightly to watch you. “For being so bold, you certainly make it easy for me to find ways to keep you on your toes, my love,” he murmured, the glint of mischief in his eyes.

You chuckled, the warmth between you both undeniable, and with one last teasing glance, you pulled yourself back just enough to look into his eyes—those eyes that had witnessed so many lifetimes, yet had only become more tender with every moment shared between you. “Good,” you said, a mischievous smile dancing on your lips. “Then I think we’ll make a habit of this.” Elrond’s expression softened, his smile both playful and full of devotion, though now there was a deeper warmth in his gaze—his flushed cheeks betraying just a hint of his usual self-assured composure. He pulled you close once more, his hand brushing over your side again, a subtle but affectionate “punishment” for your cheekiness. “As you wish,” he murmured, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was every bit as deep and promising as the one before. And in that moment, it was clear: no matter where life would take you, no matter the challenges you faced, you and Elrond would always be bound by love, laughter, and a timeless connection that neither distance nor time could ever break.

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

Singin’ in the rain.

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

A/N: This fluffy goodness was inspired by Muse’s cover of “Can’t Take My Eyes off You.” (Mainly the second half of the song) I hope you enjoy! :) also there’s another A/N at the bottom, please check it out!

Translations: “Por favor, amor mio.” Please, my love.

“Yo también te amo mucho.” I love you so much too.

“Bebé.” Baby.

Word count: 896.

Masterlist.

It was the middle of the evening, on a cold, rainy day, Wanda was peacefully reading a book in her warm and cozy home when her girlfriend Y/N, sheepishly approaches the couch she's half laying on.

"Hey baby," you begin, waiting for Wanda's eyes to tear away from the pages.

"Hello detka," Wanda responds, her tone amused as she sees you standing in front of her, slightly rocking back and forth on your heels, hands behind your back as if you were a scolded child.

"It's raining," you reply, a dopey smile on your lips that causes Wanda laughter.

"Yes, it is indeed," she says teasingly.

"I was wondering, do you wanna go outside?" You say slowly, gauging your girlfriend's reaction.

"Wait, what?" Wanda chuckles, bewildered by your question.

"Yeah, do you wanna go outside with me?" You repeat again.

"Y/N/N, no, it's cold and it's raining," Wanda responds with a slight head shake.

"Please baby," you whine, "I want to dance with you in the rain," you pout, giving her your best puppy dog eyes.

Wanda sighs at the look on your face, "no, don't look at me like that, I am not going out in the rain," she says, turning her head to look elsewhere.

"Come on Max, please," you beg now, kneeling beside her, taking both her hands into yours as you try to get her to meet your eyes.

"Y/N no, what if we get sick," Wanda says softly, resolve slowly breaking as she looks at your bright eyes.

"If we get sick then we can just take care of each other," you shrug, as if it's no big deal.

"Baby..." Wanda sighs.

"Por favor, amor mio, just this once, I've always wanted to dance in the rain with someone, and seeing as you're a hopeless romantic," you say, with a teasing smirk, "I thought you'd join me without hesitation, please," you beg again, staring at Wanda with a small smile, knowing she loves when you speak Spanish, as you can definitely see her resolve breaking.

"But there won't be any music," Wanda adds as a weak excuse.

"Uh, hello, I think you forget that I am a professional shower singer, I got this babe," you say with mock offense, a hand on your chest as if you've been truly wounded by her words.

Wanda giggles softly, then releases a sigh as she stares at you, knowing that she won't say no, "okay, fine, you win, let's do this," she says, standing up from the couch and pulling you towards the door. "But if I get sick, I'm blaming you! Stupid cute puppy dog eyes and dumb Spanish," she mutters to herself as the cold air hits her and you laugh. "Okay, pop star, we're here, sing," Wanda says, rubbing her arms in attempts to keep herself warm.

You laugh at her frowning face as you pull her into you by the waist, her arms automatically going around your neck, "You're just too good to be true, can't keep my eyes off of you. You feel like Heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much, at long last, love has arrived. And I thank God I'm alive, you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off you," you sing softly into her ear, knowing how much Wanda truly loves your singing, as she places her head on your shoulder as you both sway in the rain slowly.

But as the song progresses, you pull away and sing the next parts loudly, dancing wildly, going the whole nine yards as if you're a rockstar. "I love you baby, and if it's quite all right, I need you baby to warm the lonely nights. I love you baby, trust in me when I say," Wanda laughs at your antics, joining in immediately, head banging as she jumps in her spot as you sing, her hands doing the rock on symbol.

"Oh pretty baby, don't bring me down I pray. Oh pretty baby, now that I've found you stay and let me love you, baby. Let me love you." You sing, holding the note as you go down on your knees, your eyes closed and hands together as if you were praying.

As soon as you finish the song, Wanda pulls you up by your hands, a laugh escaping her as she presses her lips against yours, slippery and full of laughter, which causes you both to pull away.

"I love you so much," she whispers as she looks up to you, a wide smile on her face, eyes twinkling with happiness in the moonlight.

"Yo también te amo mucho," you whisper back, kissing Wanda a few times, "but what do you say we go back inside now, I know you're cold and soaking from this rain and I truly don't want you getting sick."

Wanda nods thankfully, "yes please, it's freezing," she shivers, grabbing your hand and immediately pulling you as she walks ahead.

But you pull her to a stop and pull her into you so you can pick her up bridal style and carry her into your home, "I know and I'm sorry, but thank you so much for indulging me bebé, you've made a girl's dream come true," you say and your girlfriend laughs in your arms as you walk into your home.

A/N #2: Thank you so much for reading! I’m still getting the hang of this so if there’s anything wrong, please let me know! I know I don’t post the way other writers do, like including a summary, word count, warnings, etc. cause I can’t think of much else. But if people are okay that way then so am I, if not I can start doing that, it’s just easier for me the way I’m posting at the moment. Also if anything were to ever get like too heavy or something I will definitely post warnings and stuff! Thanks!

[swifty-fox]

so would anyone care for a Kfak-Compliant Brady one shot?

Telling Major John Egan to jump is the first and last time Johnny Brady gives an order to a superior officer. It’s automatic, not-thought out. A knee-jerk reflex; if I don’t make sure this man gets off my ship he’s not leaving. 

He can’t go without him. The idea of facing Buck Cleven in a prison camp or in the afterlife however many hours, days, years from now and telling him he let his man die is unfeasible. It’s not how the rules work. Buck and Bucky make it, that’s the big rule. So if he breaks the little rules, ordering Major Egan to jump, taking him up in his fort even though he’s not supposed to be here, then he rationalizes it that way. 

It’s quiet up in the sky, the sound of burning screeching metal snatched away in seconds by momentum and gravity. He’s alone for the first time in years, and it’s a disconcerting panicked feeling as he floats helpless in blue, blue heavens. When he hits the ground, rolling his ankle and gouging a furrow in thick peat mud and without his Major, he realizes just because he made John Egan jump doesn’t mean he’s saved his life. It’s automatic, standing and testing his ankle on the strange moss-covered ground that pitched and wobbled like the deck of a ship with every shift of his weight. Sinks his teeth into his wrist until blood bubbles to muffle his cry when his ankle barely accepts his weight. Bundles his parachute and stuffs it in the mud so the white color doesn’t give him away and rips his insignias from his uniform.

It’s the best he can do.

It’s not more than two hours before he’s captured, gun to the back of his head and harsh German voices telling him to kneel. Mud that’s also blood coating his face and burning with a rage so hard he shakes. It could be the cold, sunk down to his bones with damp and unfamiliarity. Soil that wasn’t his by birthright, you don’t belong here soldier boy. This isn’t your gravedirt. It could be cold and grief and fear, but he chooses to name it as rage and grits his teeth as he limps on his bum ankles and tells the interrogator his name rank and number and recites his mother's recipe for soda bread when anything else tries to come up. 

Has Major Egan or Major Cleven come through? Did you pick up a man named Bernard Demarco?

They threaten to kill him. He’s reliably sure it’s a bluff, because there’s rules to all of this. They try to woo him and he knows that’s a bluff because you don’t make soldiers with kindness. He has his rules, he has his orders. He says nothing and wishes they would hit him so he could hit back. Wishes they would turn the blood he tastes on his teeth real so it feels less like terror.

They don’t. Everyone follows routine.

A RAF pilot binds his ankle on the train ride to the rest of his war, it rains and he cups his hands through the slats of the train to wash his face clean of peat-mud. Chill settles over them all at night, damp and horrible and he doesn’t sleep a wink, too aware of being surrounded by men who didn’t belong to him until David Solomon and Crank’s heads pop up from down the other end of the cart and the three of them fall together in a hushed pile of who made it who did they see who went down. Did you see John Egan? Did you see Bucky I got him out but I lost him in the clouds.

He wonders if maybe God snatched Bucky right from his parachute harness. 

He gives Solly his crucifix, feels mildly sick when it’s pulled from his slack fingers and almost snatches it back until Crank takes in the look on his face and presses his rosary into Brady’s empty palm.

“Here. It’s my sister’s anyway, she’d rather it be on the neck of someone who uses it.”

“Thank you,” it’s unfamiliar against his chest, warm from Crank’s body heat and a different shape. But it’s got fifty-nine beads like all the rest and he counts them one by one with frozen fingers and recites the five decades in his head until he falls asleep on Crank’s shoulder. 

He’s never been a good sleeper, even before he started dropping bombs. Now and then he rouses enough that he feels the phantom of his grandmother's fingers in his hair, gnarled from years of hard work and soft in their caress, brushing filthy strands off his forehead. It’s her spare crucifix around Solly’s neck. He thinks she would forgive him. He thinks she would find it a noble decision.

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

Such Effort III

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi x f!Reader

W/c: 1.4k

Warnings: Hospital talk (not medical per say), Kakashi waking up from a morphine drip (he's still a tad loopy), quick thought of him doing something he shouldn't, mentions of him snooping, mentions of a mission, mentions of death, swearing

Summary Post 🔮🔮 Masterlist

Previous Part

Forty-eight days and forty-nine nights. Six weeks and four days. 

Opening his eyes to the bright, white light surrounding him, Kakashi groaned, mind racing. He needed to find you, he'd been gone for so long. 

Trying the heave up, out of the strangely crinkly bed that Kakashi recognized to not be his own, his body felt like it had been mauled by a lion. Every nerve in his body, down to the tips of his toes, lit up with a searing agony. Kakashi stuttered, seeing only blurs moving around him before he felt two soft hands on his exposed shoulders, gently pushing him back down.

"No," he murmured weakly, lurching forward. "No, I ha-ve- to go."

"What's your rush?"

Oh, he was dead. Kakashi was in Heaven, speaking to an angel. He supposed he shouldn't rush then, but he felt a sharp pain in his chest. Kakashi wondered if Paradise had a section to view those you missed, still on Earth.

"There we go," the sweet, melodic voice hummed as Kakashi relaxed. He closed his eyes, the room still far too bright to take in. Would he just have to get used to that, up here? "I was worried you wouldn't come back to me, I suppose my worries were well-founded."

"I don't- not... you," Kakashi argued, vocal chords chaffing each other. "I need to- to... her... Y/n."

"That's funny, I don't remember giving you my name."

Ignoring the sting, Kakashi's eyes flew open. A blur stood in front of him, dressed in a light blue blur, holding a boxy, brown blur. He tried blinking, and the image of you began to come through. 

Again, Kakashi tried to sit up, this time more methodically. You put your hand back on his bare shoulder, a small bite of cold in your skin. Kakashi just smiled, pushing against your hand with his shoulder, enjoying the way he could actively feel your hand warming. You pushed a bit more firmly, chuckling, "Lie down. You got quite the scrambling."

"My girl," he hummed, taking your hand in his as he laid down. 

Kakashi kept blinking, now able to make out the fuzzy crescent of your smile on your beautiful face. Even blurry, you were breathtaking. He pulled at your hand, putting it on the center of his chest and making you stand right beside him. 

Dragging your hand up the dip of his chest, up his neck, and to his lips, Kakashi pressed a kiss to the each of your fingertips. Between each kiss, Kakashi mumbled, "My angel."

"You're not dead, Kakashi," you laughed gently.

"Don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"Too formal," he whispered, breath fanning across your palm. Resting your hand to cup his cheek, Kakashi added, "Lovers never use each other's names."

"Lovers?" You repeated, a mixture of shock and amusement in your tone.

But Kakashi didn't care, pressing your hand to his face and letting the smell of the perfume on your wrist rejuvenate him. He confirmed, "It sounds even better when you say it, darling."

Your dulcet laughter was all Kakashi needed to see clearly. The veil of fog was lifted from his retinas, only to be blessed by the sight of you. Oh, you were so perfect. You looked so professional too, with your clipboard and pulled back hair. So different from the girl in the shabby cloak on a ribboned bike, yet the exact same.

"You're still a bit hopped up, off that morphine drip, Kakashi-"

"Hey," he whined.

With a roll of your perfect eyes, you corrected yourself, "You're delirious, sweetheart."

"Mm. Better, but I want something more lover-like next time."

"Stars above, anyway," you sighed, pulling your hand away so meanly to flip a page on your clipboard. "You'll be okay for discharge in a couple hours, and I'll be coming to your apartment tonight to drop off a prescription that I need to go make n-"

"Don't go," Kakashi gasped, grabbing your hand back. With such a force, though unintentional, he pulled you over his lap. Bent at the hip over his thighs, your ass was on full, glorious display. "Yeah, stay like this."

In his absentminded state, Kakashi's left hand hovered above your perfectly round ass. He faltered, unsure if he should smack you around, or if he should grip your flesh. Both had been dreams for far too long, and this opportunity far too unpassable.

Crawling off of him and back to your feet, Kakashi frowned deeply, letting his hand drop to his chest. Both hands empty, he needed to feel you in them as soon as possible.

"You get a pass, only because you're injured and high right now," you snapped, straightening out your skirt and blouse. 

A jolt of fear traveled through Kakashi's body, resembling what he had felt so many weeks ago, when you had mentioned someone he hadn't even remembered fucking. Being with that other woman, who's name again eluded him, was a monumental mistake - and Kakashi worried he had made yet another mistake of the same brand.

"No, no, darl-, please, no, I'm sorry," he babbled, trying to catch one of your hands again. You took a step back, eying him in a way that made his heart hurt. "Please, just stay with me. Please?"

After a terribly long beat of silence, you sighed and sat on the bottom corner of Kakashi's hospital bed, sitting right near the edge. Kakashi tried to sit up again, but a very real, physical pain made him wince and swear under his breath.

"I'm only staying, if you stay lying down," you chided, getting up to push him down again.

Kakashi sighed, still propped on his elbow, "I'll lie down, if you sit beside me. Properly."

"Fine," you said, sitting right beside his torso. 

"Thank you," he exhaled, letting himself drop back into the bed. It stung, but not as badly as the sting of trying to sit up. You smiled at Kakashi, making the pain dwindle to a dull ache. Trying to hear your voice, Kakashi prompted you, "Tell me about yourself."

"That wasn't the deal."

"Darling, I'm injured and high, can't you indulge me a little?"

You snickered at his comment, which made Kakashi feel a wave of pride wash over him. Damn right, he made you laugh. He was always making you laugh, and nothing made him feel better.

"I didn't expect you to be so..." The words died on your tongue, but Kakashi didn't mind, his thoughts racing to fill in your blank. You went on, "Alright, hm, I'm an apprentice medic."

Kakashi shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Something juicier, something I don't already know."

"Ah, so you did look in my file." Kakashi just shrugged, and you sighed, tapping your foot. He couldn't read your emotion, but he wasn't getting anything negative. You continued, perking up a little, "Okay, here's something that's not in my file."

"Yay."

"I've got a mouse."

Kakashi laughed brashly, so hard that it agitated his injury. You furrowed your brow as he chuckled, "That's not in your file... a mouse? Really? "

"Well, he hasn't got a house of his own, you see," you giggled back, playing with your sheer pantyhose. 

Smiling, Kakashi reached his hand out to your netted knee to feel the coarse texture. As he did, he looked up at you, attention very much focused on your angelically beautiful face. Angelic, yeah, that was the perfect word to use to describe you.

"What's his name?"

"I call him Gerald, but he doesn't respond to it."

Kakashi couldn't help but laugh again, "Gerald? A mouse named Gerald?"

"He's getting rather old, but he's a good mouse," you explained. Kakashi continued to snicker, making you chortle, "What is so funny?"

"Why'd you call him Gerald?"

"I don't know why," you responded lightly, bouncing your shoulders with a shrug. Your eyes roamed Kakashi's face, and he felt like you were coating him with Nectar. "It's a good name, for a good mouse."

Letting his laughter die down in his chest, Kakashi let his face settle into a smile. He looked at the angel sitting beside him, squeezing your knee as he grinned. No one was luckier than Kakashi, getting to have all of your attention on him, and him alone. 

"You're so pretty, Y/n," he sighed.

"What happened to our pet names, lover?" You teased, standing up. Kakashi's hand dropped down your leg as his smile downturned to a sour frown. You chuckled, picking up his hand as it dangled off the edge of his bed, "I have to go make your prescription, I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Okay," Kakashi agreed hesitantly as you replaced his hand to the bed. "I'll be counting."

With that, his angel left the room, and Kakashi truly did start counting the seconds until she returned.

Next Part

*lmk how y'all feel i plead

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

CS Winter Bingo--Square 6 (bundled up for the cold): A Match Faked for Christmas, ch. 5 of 5

Hi there and happy holiday season!  In an attempt to continue procrastinating my season 4 rewatch drabbles–and to not feel guilty about it–I decided to participate in the CS Winter Bingo event.  I received nine winter/holiday related prompts arranged in a square like a bingo card.  My mission is to make a bingo by writing at least three of my prompts before winter is over, but I’m hoping to do better than that!  I’m hoping to finish all nine!  Given the nature of the event, you can expect a lot of fluff (but then what else would you expect from me, after all?)  I’m hoping to keep them short as well, but I’m usually not nearly as successful at that.  And without further ado, let’s play CS Winter Bingo!

Rating: G

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list):

@jennjenn615 @laschatzi @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @kmomof4

@linda8084 @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82

@therooksshiningknight @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @jrob64 @anmylica

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @i-will-sing-no-requiem @bluewildcatfanatic @laianely

Word count: 2071

Today’s prompt: Fake Dating: Holiday Edition

Other chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Emma closed her door and then sunk back against it.  She was so epically, massively screwed!

After THE KISS (she couldn’t help but think of it in all caps), she and Killian had left the party rather hastily.  Ruby’s catcalls and innuendos about what they were off to do ringing in their ears.  They’d walked in silence across the street, and it wasn’t until they were in front of her door that Killian hesitantly spoke.

“Swan, perhaps we should talk about what just–”

She cut him off with a huge, exaggerated yawn, stretching her arms over her head to complete the effect.  “I’m exhausted.  I think I’m going to head to bed.”

Nevermind that it was only 8:30 pm.  She had to get away.  Had to.  She couldn’t have this conversation now.

She saw the disappointment flash in his eyes for a moment, and then it disappeared.  He took a step away and pasted a determined smile on his face.  “Good night Swan.  Sweet dreams.”

She assumed he headed back to his own house then, but she couldn’t know for sure.  She didn’t wait around to find out, merely let herself into her own home as quickly as she could.

And now here she was.

Emma was running.  She knew she was.  That kiss had been….she didn’t even know how to describe it.  It was addictive.  It made the whole party fall away.  There was no one else in the world but her and Killian at that moment.  She’d swear she’d heard bells ringing, angels singing, felt a bright, warm light cover them in glory.  She was pretty sure she’d touched heaven.

Emma groaned.  This was not her. She was mentally spouting so many cliches, she’d have probably made Mary Margaret blush.  What was Killian doing to her?

There had only been one time in her life that she’d fallen so fast and so hard for a guy.  She’d been sixteen when a much-older Neal had convinced her that she mattered.  That she was loved. That she had found home and forever and all of that crap.

And then he’d taught her a lesson she’d never forget.  He’d not only left her, he’d literally left her holding the bag for his own crimes.  Sent her to the slammer for almost a year.

What she’d learned?  Love was a myth.  Forever was a fairytale people told themselves to make themselves feel better in the midst of their crap lives.

Her brief relationship with Walsh years later–which had ended when he had an affair with a woman who had a truly bizarre fettish for flying monkeys–had only cemented her belief.

She really knew how to pick them, didn’t she?

And so she’d vowed to protect her heart.  Look out for yourself and you’ll never get hurt.  How had she let Killian slip past her defenses so thoroughly in only a week?

If she let this continue, if she didn’t cut things off cold turkey now, when things went south with Killian, it was going to hurt like a son of a bitch.

Something told her it might already be too late for her.

The tears sprang to her eyes, and she let them fall, as she moved away from the door, heading toward her master suite.  She’d take a long, hot bath, and then go to bed, and tomorrow….tomorrow she’d avoid him like the plague–and she’d keep it up until she got him out of her system.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She was woken bright and early Christmas morning by the ringing of her doorbell.  Emma groaned, covered her head with a pillow and tried to ignore it.  Maybe whoever it was would get the hint and go away.

Riiiiiing!  Knock!

No such luck.

Breathing threats and murder, she tossed off the covers and padded to the door.  A woosh of cold air greeted her as she opened it, and he was there, covered in a thin coat of snow, wearing a delighted grin and bearing a steaming mug of something that smelled of coffee and chocolate and peppermint.

“Merry Christmas, Swan!” he said delightedly!

Unbidden, her eyes traveled to his lips and her heart stuttered.

It turned her annoyance into something approaching rage.  “Killian, we’ve talked about what happens when people wake me up at the butt crack of dawn.”

He grinned mischievously as he pushed past her into her home, blew out a breath and muttered something about the cold.  “Indeed.  I believe the consensus was that my murder could be avoided by bribing you with hot, festive beverages.”

She smiled in spite of herself.  Couldn’t help it.  How he managed to convey both childlike wonder, devilish mischief and steaming sexiness all at the same time was a mystery to her.

“I really should just kick you out on your ass, you know,” she said, her voice conveying affectionate exasperation.

He shrugged, handed her the mug and began the long process of removing hats and scarves and gloves and coat.  She barked a laugh at the sight of the ugly Christmas sweater beneath.  It depicted a pirate ship full of festively clad pirates singing “Yo, ho, ho, ho!  Merry Christmas!”

The ridiculous garment seemed to break whatever was left of the tension between them, and easily, almost effortlessly, they fell into the pattern they’d been following for the past week–talking and laughing and simply enjoying each other’s company.  Emma made him pancakes and he cleaned up after them.

She’d been afraid the next time she saw Killian, he’d insist on continuing the conversation he’d started when they parted the night before.  She’d been afraid he’d insist they talk about THE KISS and what it meant and where they went from there.  Instead, he seemed to have judiciously chosen to ignore it; pretend it had never happened.

But it was there, always there between them, an unspoken presence both delightful and terrifying.  They’d have to talk about it eventually, Emma knew that, but today was Christmas Day.  That was a conversation for another day.

“Forgive me for stating the obvious, Swan,” he said, after their breakfast was over, “but it snowed last night.”

She grinned.  “I noticed.  Looks like we got quite a bit.”

“I bet there’s at least 6 inches out there and it’s still coming down!”  A child who’d just found out he had a snow day from school couldn’t have sounded more excited.

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you like snow?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he said.  “It’s pretty and it’s fun…and then when you come in from the snow, you get to warm up.”

He wiggled his eyebrows in exaggerated flirtation at that, and she laughed.

“So how about it, Swan?” he said.  “What say we build a snowman?”

“A snowman?” she said with a grin.  “Killian, I haven’t built a snowman since I was like ten.”

“Well then’d I’d say you’re past due, love.”

“It’s cold!” she whined.

“We can bundle up,” he wheedled.  “Come on Swan!  If you can’t act like a child on Christmas morning, when can you?”

She felt the last of her resistance fading, and she sighed exaggeratedly.  “Fine! But if I get frostbite, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

There was that smolder again.  “Never fear, Swan.  I’m more than capable of keeping you warm and keeping frostbite at bay.”

She shivered in reaction, her gaze moving once more to his lips, currently ticked up in a saucy smile.  Good lord, the man was going to be the death of her, but what a way to die!

Five minutes later, clad in two hats, a pair of gloves topped by a pair of mittens, a fluffy red scarf and her heaviest coat, Emma headed outside with her neighbor.

After building not one but two snowpeople, (Emma insisted that the second one was a snowwoman.  It was only fair.) Emma had stepped back to admire their work.  A moment later she felt a snowball pelt her in the middle of the back.

“Oh no you did not!” she said, grinning and then stopping down to fashion her own missile.

“I’m afraid I did, love,” he grinned utterly unrepentant.  “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

What she did about it was fire a snowball directly into his (far too handsome) face.

And with that an all out snowball war broke out, but never was a war fought with more laughter or playful taunts.  Ten minutes later, Emma picked up her newly made snowball and ran full tilt toward Killian.  Just before reaching him, she slipped, falling directly into him.  Her momentum toppled him, and the long and short of it was Emma found herself sprawled on top of Killian, both breathing hard, both looking into the other’s face with intensity.

The desire to lean down and kiss the hell out of him was so strong, it took everything inside Emma to pull away, wipe the desire from her face and offer him a hand up.

He looked disappointed for a fraction of a second before the grin returned.  “Truce?” he asked, offering her his hand.

“Only if you make me some more of that hot cocoa you brought that first day.”

“Done!” he said.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few minutes later, Emma sat at her counter, watching as Killian puttered around her kitchen preparing the requisite cocoa.  I’m gonna miss this, she thought as she watched him stir.

A pang went through her at the thought.  How was she going to go back to her boring, ordinary life before Killian?  It was like The Wizard of Oz–how Dorothy lived in a world of black and white, and didn’t even realize it until she’d gotten to Oz and suddenly saw all the colors.

How did one come back from that?

What if….what if she didn’t?  What if she let this thing between them play out?

The thought scared her…but so did the thought of cutting him out of her life completely.  Could she trust him?  Was she willing to take the leap of faith and find out?

“Swan?” Killian asked tentatively as he set a steaming mug of cocoa before her.  “That’s quite a tragic look.  What’s troubling you?”

She took a long swig of the sweet, creamy liquid, buying herself time, but finally she decided the time to be a coward was at an end.  She met his eyes.  “It’s Christmas, so I guess that means we’ll need to ‘break up’ soon.”

Was she imagining the disappointment on his face?

“The thing is,” she said, glancing away and then determinedly looking back at him.  “The thing is, I…I’m not sure I want to.”

Surprise replaced the disappointment in his eyes.  “Swan?  What are you saying?”

“I don’t know!” she burst out.  “I’m not ready for labels or making things official or whatever, but I don’t want to lose what we’ve had the last week.  There’s something there between us…at least…at least I think there is?”

His eyes gentled, and he reached over and took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers.  “There is,” he answered simply. “And for my part…well, if I’m being honest, by the time I left your house on that first day I realized I was going to want more than fake dating.  Love, I know you’re afraid.  I don’t know why, although I hope you’ll tell me in time, and I haven’t wanted to push you, but if you want to know where I stand…I’m in it for the long haul.”

Emma dragged in a long breath waiting for the fear to come.  “Killian, if we start…something…between us and it goes bad, I don’t know if I’ll survive it.  Not again.”

He brought his free hand to cup her face, letting her hair trail through his fingers in the gesture.  “Emma, I don’t know the future.  I don’t know what lies before us, but I can tell you this.  I’ll always, always be at your side.  I’m all in.”

She looked intently into his eyes, searching for lies, searching for deception.  She found none.  “Then,” she said, meeting his eyes.  “Then I am too.”

His smile rivaled the sun that had just broken through the clouds, and then he leaned in and kissed her.

Six months later, David and Mary Margaret received a “save the date” for Emma and Killian’s wedding, coming up on the following Christmas Eve.

David figured there would be no living with her after this.

The End!

[ageofevermore]

LIVES IN ME

SUMMARY — without a second thought, you sacrificed yourself to be with her again. without a second thought, you left natasha to carry out your memory alone.

AUTHORS NOTE — this is a part two to this fic. it can be read individually but i suggest you read the first part before this! you can thank @holiday-house-of-m for this lol

It fit tighter than you remember. Nine months since your last mission and nothing was going according to plan, but, what had gone according to plan since you lost her. The sleepless nights beneath your eyes are hollow and a tint of purple, and your combat knives don’t fit your palms the way that they used to. Everything feels off. Everything still feels empty. 

The consistent static that brews a melody in your head is misplaced by an urgent click, and then it’s Natasha’s voice that comes over you. The world has been colorless since that afternoon thirty-five weeks ago. At some point, you thought death only struck at night. How stupid of you to think such a thing. How naive of you to assume you’d find shelter in losing only in the dark. Now, sunshine brings you to your knees. Now, even a soft breeze reminds you of the stickiness of hot blood on your hands, and how your hair fluttered into your eyes and brushing it aside left her blood smeared across your face. Now, your heart is broken at two in the afternoon, and eleven at night, and five in the morning. After Wanda, you’ve come to learn that grief consumes you. 

“Come in, Y/N.” Natasha’s voice crackles. Her voice floats around you like clouds, or maybe cartoon birds from an old animated movie. She sounds so far away, so far out of reach you don’t even try to swim closer. “Y/N.” 

The second call of your name drags you from the trance you’ve settled within. Your surroundings become clear again, and it's only now you realize how the ground is soaked in blood. How the branches of trees house ripped clothing and broken knives and staffs and empty guns are tossed in piles on the field. The scene is a bloodbath, a nightmare. Is it your blood, or is it the enemies? You can feel a gash in your side now that you’re thinking about it. Now that you’re aware of the deep stinging sensation that rivals the numbness in your bones. You drop your knife, your lips wobbling. You pull your hand away from your side and blood coats your fingers. The end is nearing. “Yeah, Nat?”

“Retreat.” She wasn’t asking. The fear that curdled Natasha’s sweet voice turned it raspy and cold. Her calculated annunciation of each harsh letter would have been enough to provoke a physical reaction, a shiver down your spine, a pinch in your brow, a quiver in your lip, but now, standing here with her blood on your hands all over again, you didn’t flinch. You didn’t look to your left where you knew she was crouched beside the quinjet. To you, she was miles away, she was out of reach, she was a wonderful thing you’d known for long enough. She was the end. 

“I’ve got a clear shot.” You cleared your throat, spitting blood onto the grass at your feet. Your throat burned from the blood the longer you stood still, the longer you allowed the gash in your side to remain untreated, the longer you let yourself melt into the warm breeze, the sunshine, the heavens. The longer you allow yourself to die. 

Natasha’s silence only lasted seven seconds, but it was enough to know that she understood. It was enough to promise you that she would be okay without you here. That she understood. Natasha didn’t need words. She said everything she needed to in her love, and silence was her greatest asset. “Y/N, if you do that… You’re as good as dead.” Her voice was small. You had never heard Natasha sound so unsure of herself, but she made no attempts to convince you to choose life. She knew you had died all those afternoons ago. She knew the version of herself she saw in your eyes had drifted to the moon the second your star crossed lover died in your arms. She just knew. 

“I’ve got a clear shot.” You repeated, narrowing your eyes at the target, tilting your head to the side the same way Wanda would. Her mannerisms were yours now. She lived through you now. But soon, Natasha would carry you both. Soon, you’d both be memories. Gunfire settled, the static humming dissipated, the stinging in your body melted away. You were so close to having her back. You were so close to relinquishing the weight of grief and pain. 

Without second thought, you charged toward the enemy. Without second thought, you left this life behind. Without second thought, you left Natasha and Steve, Maria and Kate, Peter and Ned. Without second thought, you abandoned the pain that had you in chains. With one glance at Natasha as you slashed the enemy with your blades, the blades that Wanda had gifted you, the blades with scarlet handles, the blades that you never forgot to grab, your eyes met across the battlefield. In only a second of eye contact, you said your goodbyes. In only a second, it was over. 

In only a second, you were gone.

[incorrect-mtg]

Flavor Text Highlights - Mirage

<- Previous Set | Next Set ->

Funny - Pacifism

For the first time in his life, Grakk felt a little warm and fuzzy inside.

Funny - Elixir of Vitality

“Eternal life or your money back.” —Unnamed Suq'Ata merchant, deceased

Emotional - Reign of Terror

“I don’t know what takes them; they die around me without time to scream.” —Scout Ekemet, final journal

Worldbuilding - The entire Love Song of Night and Day* *which I will put under a line break because it's super long AND I want to repost content from a Wizards article which is no longer available

<- Previous Set | Next Set ->

The full poem, taken from the article of the same name originally posted in 2003 on the wizards website (here) with footnotes explaining which cards quote it.:

Love Song of Night and Day by Jenny Scott

He (Night) / She (Day)

Wrap yourself in your best bright clothes, your red and purple scarves of silk. Run with me to the festival, where we will dance until sunrise. The dwarves will beat their funny drums of zebra skins and hollowed trees, while stiltwalkers perform, and the musician blows his bamboo flute.

And late in the night, the poets and storytellers entertain, delight us with their dancing words, as we listen, clapping by the fire. Enchant me with your tale-telling. Tell about Tree, Grass, River, and Wind. Tell why Truth must fight with Falsehood, and why Truth will always win.1

I will tell my father's stories: how the giant mantis fooled Death by holding still as a felled tree; how the elephants trampled the leopard cub, and its father, though he knew, killed nine goats instead;2 how pirates gambled with a djinn and lost the thing more dear than gold.3

Tonight we'll eat a farewell feast. Cold corn porridge is not enough. Let's peel papayas, pineapples, and mangoes, drink coconut milk, and bake bananas.4 We'll dine on crocodiles, wild birds, and turtles, perhaps a hippopotamus--if only you can catch it first.

I'll build a palace made of stone. Two hippo-headed guards will serve, and tigers carry in your meals. I'll capture flying zebras for your steeds, and fill the stable with every kind of unicorn.5 Butterflies and salamanders will decorate your garden.

I'll strand long strings of beads for you, blue, the color only kings may wear. I'll carve a soapstone lioness, a wooden box to lock it in, girded with sapphire amulets, ostrich feathers, ivory. These things will protect you while I'm gone, remind you of my love for you.6

Your voice resounds like a songbird's, every word is a sweet, soft song. When you run you're graceful and swift, sleek as a powerful panther.7 Mysterious chameleon, you're a thousand women at once, sharp and strong as a lioness, yet gentle as a striped gazelle.

On this our last day together, let us walk across the grasslands. Hold my hand and let's walk slowly, seeing everything as children. Let's walk on the Daraja Plains, where leopards hang from trees, dosing, tasseled tails swaying in the shade, near villages of tree-dwelling elves.

Glorious, to walk again across the savannah with my beloved. A lion walks commandingly, a general among his troops, camped the night before a battle. A snake, colorful and coiled, loops around his bough, mischievous, hanging over the village path.

We'll find termites in their nests, hard tall towers above the plains, and point-eared cats, taking their turns, guarding their many entrances. We'll find the basket-nests of birds hanging from the acacia tree. Rhinoceroses and dragons for once will let us walk in peace.

When lightning tears the sky's dark cloak and heaven's bird beats the water on the muddy plains with its big wings, termites and frogs escape their homes toward the lamps in the nearest village. Spiders dry themselves indoors, the spotted lizards that never fall from ceilings suddenly appear.

In the forest, fires light the sky as the black clouds unfold their weight.8. The black-and-white sacred monkey holds her children to her, and waits.9 Love, like lightning hits suddenly. It sparks the heart with blows of light, its fire extending, bends, expands, beats and breaks your hiding places.

* * *

Remember when we were children, herding the sheep together, leading them over the grassy hills with long sticks. Your silly songs made me laugh, and in the evening, you'd enchant me with your stories, lying on your back beside me. Even then my heart was yours.

I remember your sacred rites. You were so funny, so grown up, so stiff and serious, all arms and elbows. You went in a girl, but you returned a warrior. You marched back with the others-- your hair was cut, your eye tattooed with the red triangle of war.10

Tomorrow I must go, my love. I will tattoo my head with braids. My shield will bear a shining sun so you will always be with me. Inlaid with gold, it will shine like glowing embers.11 I will return with lizard skins for your sandals. Paint your eyes black and wait for me.12

I am the sun, you are the moon. Wherever you lead I will go, following across the wide sky, as long as I live and you love. Sun follows Moon until she tires, then carries her until she's strong and runs ahead of him again.13 I'll carry you, too, my beloved.

My love, we are not Sun and Moon. Instead we are like day and night. The old ones say Day is a woman, who works only while it is light. She herds her goats and catches fish, fills her fields with golden corn, shows her children what is just and protects them from the cobra.

Day loves Night, who works in darkness, walking through heaven's milky sky collecting stars with his quick arms, piling them into a basket like a child collecting lizards and piling them into her pot until the pot overflows with lizards, 'til the basket overflows with light.

Night wears a black cloak lined with fire, studded inside with gleaming stars. At dawn and dusk he spies his love. Across the rolling hills of sky, they glimpse each other--so briefly. They throw each other kisses, cry. Their tears spill over Jamuraa. Mixed with blood, they wash everything red.14

But once, with a magician's help, Time was stopped and Day stood still.15 Night spread over Jamuraa, wrapped Day in his dark cloak and held her. In their miraculous embrace, the two became as One. Until pulled from Day's arms, Night sank, commanded by the western horizon that always beckons him to come.

I won't give up hope, my love.

Our love is like the river in the summer season of long rains: For a little while it spilled its banks, flooding the crops in the fields.16 But soon it will evaporate with the dry heat. Like Day from Night, I'll live my life apart from you, just glimpsing you across the sky, because you cannot change, my dear, and nor can I.17

[1] "Enchant me…" - Village Elder, Mirage [2] "I will tell my father's stories… how the elephants…" - Wild Elephant, Mirage [3] "…pirates…" - Kukemssa Pirates, Mirage [4] "Tonight…" - early harvest, Mirage and Sixth Edition [5] "I'll capture…" - Zebra Unicorn, Mirage (note that "flying" was changed to "gentle" on the card.) [6] "These things…" - Remedy, Visions and Sixth Edition [7] "When you run…" - Panther Warriors, Visions [8] "In the forest…" - Flare, Mirage [9] "The black-and-white…" - simoon, Visions [10] "…you returned a warrior… your hair was cut…" - Zhalfirin Knight, Mirage [11] "My shield…" - blinding light, Mirage [12] "I will return…" - Femeref Knight, Mirage [13] "Sun follows…" - Chariot of the Sun, Mirage [14] "Their tears…" - Mortal Wound, Visions [15] "But once…" - Sands of Time, Visions [16] "Our love…" - Summer Bloom, Visions [17] "Like Day from Night…" - Unfulfilled Desires, Mirage

[kdram-chjh]

Cdrama: Warm on a Cold Night (2023)

玖儿：好甜 像你一样 | 九霄寒夜暖 Warm on a Cold Night | 李一桐 毕雯珺｜❤︎ 爱奇艺心动剧场 ❤#shorts

Watch this video on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/VyDyldxjJ9Q

[dramasauce]

Warm on A Cold Night (2023)

[omegaremix]

Favorites For The 10′s.

Artists:

Cold Cave

Happy Meals / Free Love

Self Defense Family

Black Marble

Miss Red

Uniform

Death Grips

Russell Haswell

Omar Souleyman

Oldbill$

Water From Your Eyes / Thanks For Coming

Parquet Courts

Aurat

Releases:

Function & Vatican Shadow Games Have Rules

York Factory Complaint Lost In The Spectacle

Kedr Livanskiy January Sun

John Carpenter Lost Themes Remixed

Raveonettes, The Pe’ahi

Tearist Living: 2009-Present

Dame Charm School

Ron Morelli Disappearer

Happy Meals / Free Love Luxury Hits

Cold Cave Cherish The Light Years

Black Marble A Different Arrangement

Black Boot s/t

Post Trash Volumes 1-4

America Fuck Fertility Clown

Diat Positive Energy

Tropic Of Cancer Stop Suffering e.p.

My Bloody Valentine MBV

Primitive Weapons Surrender Yourself

Algiers s/t

Happy Meals / Free Love Apero

Daughters You Won’t Get What You Want

Water From Your Eyes All A Dance

JK Flesh Rise Above

New Dreams Ltd. Initiation Tape: Isle Of Avalon Edition

Alan Vega It

Unsane Wreck

XXYYXX s/t

Refreshers How Bout U

Ninos Du Brasil Vida Eterna

Azar Swan Cut Hands & Vatican Shadow Variations

Rixe Coups Et Blessures e.p.

Songs:

Nine Inch Nails “Over And Out”

Cold Cave & Black Rain & Genesis Breyer P-Orridge “Comprehension”

Boy Harsher “Pain”

Glass Candy “Warm In The Winter”

IO Echo “Carnation”

Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti “Fright Night (Nevermore)”

Tropic Of Cancer “I Woke Up And The Storm Was Over”

Tame Impala “New Person Same Old Mistakes”

Clams Casino “I’m Drawn” (Crim3s RMX)

Preoccupations “Disarray”

GXFR “Ajax”

Mono/Poly “Alpha & Omega”

Prayers “Shaking Hands With Razor Blades”

Washed Out “Feel It All Around”

Planit Hank f. Buckshot & Jeru The Damaja & AZ “Life In Crooklyn”

Holydrug Couple, The “I’ll Only Say This”

LNDN DRGS “Dope Sick”

Phil Western “Bleak Night”

Death Of Pop, The “Sun In My Eyes”

Model/Actriz “Matador”

NGLY “Speechless Tape”

Nick Klein “American Stomach”

Evidence “Throw It All Away”

Westerbur & Rowe “Side C”

York Factory Complaint “Loved”

Rong “Cup”

Xray Eyeballs “X”

Burial “Come Down To Us”

Khruangbin “August 10″

Sleaford Mods “My Jampandy”

Atari Teenage Riot “Black Flags”

Bug, The f. Miss Red “Diss Mi Army”

Godspeed You Black Emperor! “Piss Crowns Are Trebled”

Happy Meals “Crystal Salutations”

Polysick “Barry Talks”

Ta-Ra “L’il Bit”

Crystal Castles “Pap Smear”

Clear Soul Forces “Get No Better”

Molly Nilsson “I Hope You Die”

Consumer Electronics “Knives Cut”

JK Flesh “External Transmission Stage”

Bethlehem Steel “Guts”

Current Affairs “Eyes”

Lost Under Heaven “Black Sun Rising”

MssingNo “Quick Shake Off”

Weeping Icon “Teeth (& A Handbag)”

Purling Hiss “Don’t Even Try It”

Silent Servant “The Strange Attractor”

IKO 93 “Mutt” / “Drag”

Ghxst “Ride”

Uniform & The Body “In My Skin”

Taiwan Housing Project “Buy Buy Buy”

Pastel Ghost “Clouds”

Rainforest Spiritual Enslavement “Watery Grave”

Rezzett “Zootie”

Lower Dens “Ondine”

Azar Swan “Jungle Law”

Pharmakon “Xia Xinfeng”

Impalers “High Wired”

Uniform “The Lost”

Akitsa “Prophétie Héritique”

Self Defense Family “Indoor Wind Chimes”

clipping. “Wriggle”

Antwon “Helicopter”

Ice Cream “Plastic”

Bug, The f. SpaceApe “At War With Time”

Hot Flash Heat Wave “Glo Ride”

Priests “Jesus’ Son”

Gong Gong Gong “Down Quantity Road”

Brian Eno & Kevin Shields “Only Once Away My Son”

All These Fingers “Puerta Vallarta”

White Mystery “White Mystery”

Boards Of Canada “Nothing Is Real”

Underworld & Iggy Pop “Bells And Circles”

HTRK “Summer Rain”

Joan Shelley “Over And Even”

Surfbort “Slushie”

Vatican Shadow “Weapons Inspection”

Nick Klein “Anxiety Plae”

Copper Sounds & Franco Franco “Accelerazione Generale”

Trouble Knows Me “Celebrity Vision”

BADBADNOTGOOD “In Your Eyes” (f. Charlotte Day Wilson)

Found Discoveries (non-’10′s):

Keiji Haino “See That My Grave Is Kept Clean”

Isolated Showers “Death Through Open Eyes”

Steve Khan “The Blue Man”

Body Without Organs “Osiris Rises”

Spizzenergi “Soldier Soldier”

Joanna Brouk “The Space Between”

Bereket Mengistaab “Lebay (My Heart Or My Emotions)”

Bathory (s/t)

Suicide (s/t)

Subtle Turnhips “F* The People F* The Power F* The People To The Power”

Mayhem De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas

Thomas Leer & Robert Rental The Bridge

Negril (s/t)

SPK “Serenace”

Gigi Masin “Tears Of A Clown”

Cabaret Voltaire Extended Play

Kegcharge s/t

Charles Manson Lie

Sandro Brugnolini & Stefano Torossi “Effetto Notte”

Captain Sensible & The Softies “Jet Boy Jet Girl”

Jah Wobble & The Edge & Holger Czukay “Hold On To Your Dreams”

Prurient Cocaine Death

Les Rallizes DeNudes Heavier Than A Death In The Family

Desire “Mirror Mirror”

Anti-Nowhere League “For You”

World Renown The LP

Most Precious Blood Our Lady Annihilation

Council Estate Electronics “Hall Hayes”

Eric Gale “Morning Glory”

Killing Joke “Mass”

Ata Kak s/t

You Love Her Coz She’s Dead

Joy Division “Interzone”

Tunnel Canary “Jihad”

Death Spiritual / Mental / Physical

Hirut Bekele “ልሽከም ፍቅር”

Labels:

Awesome Tapes From Africa

Wharf Cat

Katorga Works

Detriti

Sacred Bones

Hospital Productions

Italians Do It Better

RRRecords

Label Compilations:

Monorail Trespassing Project Housing

Italians Do It Better After Dark

L.I.E.S. Music For Shut-Ins

Avon Terror Corps No Sleep ‘Till Avon

Fuzzoscope Earwax Shelf Life

Total Disappointments:

Tim Lambesis attempted murder for hire

Endless Kanye West coverage

Bhad Bhabie.

2016.

deaths and suicides of various legends (all genres)

Ten Walls’ career suicide

PWR BTTM

Ethan Kath

Orwells, The

Whirr Twitter controversy

Ian Watkins

Blood On The Dance Floor

Tekashi6ix9ine

We’ve only been six years strong (seven with Omega WUSB), but we’ve always had our pulse on what’s going on before then. Ω+ has mapped out where we’ve been, where we’re at, and where we’re going; while our radio show reflects our best finds and habits when we play for keeps. It’s a real-time game with real-time results. With everyone supporting what we do, we feel like winners. It’s inevitable that every end of the year or decade calls for a best-of list and we’re not immune. It’d be a huge undertaking doing a best-of-the-decade for our radio show, and with so much out there, it’s not even possible. So, it’s better if we showed you our entire hand here.

The rules? All songs and albums had to be released in the wild from 2010 to 2019. Artists and labels have had to make their impact visible during this decade as well. All selections are culled from about 75 different music outlets, several Long Island record stores, label mail orders, our radio show Omega WUSB, and our personal site Ω+. We also had a lot of generous help from our own friends and allies of Omega, WUSB, and Bandcamp. There’s even a special section of “classic” discoveries we found during the decade still worth checking out. That’s our “as it happens, when it happens, anything goes” policy of Ω+. Every color, belief system, denomination, and utility is found there. One total exception to all this, though: no pop. We’re no industry authority, just only one person. It’s only opinion. However, some people confuse that with fact, therefore we waive all responsibility for hurt feelings, lost bets, hate mail, mysterious packages, or damaged property, so take it as you will at your own risk.

First, our favorite artists of the decade starting with two very important and personal game-changers. Everyone following Ω+ knows that Cold Cave started the domino effect of turning my life around. It was the first hint of many that showed me that something better was out there to focus on in a post-economic crash era. The other? Parquet Courts. As mentioned a few days ago, our former program director Ari warmed me up to them and opened the door to our current fever of post-punk and d.i.y. It’s been a pretty alluring aesthetic to hear and observe.

Artists such as Self Defense Family, Russell Haswell, and Death Grips not only sound really good at everything they’ve released, but when you take a closer look at them, you’ll realize that they do have great ideas. We champion Self-Defense because of their non-traditional ideas you’ll never see in punk music. Interviews with porno actresses on their albums, their islander series of 7”, naming songs after obscure people, or having their production personnel also become part of the band that tours and makes records at the same time, all on top of Patrick Kinlon’s sense of humor and down-to-earth takes on the human condition. In our eyes, Russell Haswell has embraced technology for his own needs and intentionally uses his experimentation to thwart and throw-off electronic music, rhythms, and dance clubs as one. Who else but Death Grips not only announces splits-ups and cancelled tours but follows up with new records as if nothing ever happened? An instrumental album out of pace with silent interviews? Secret messages, albums produced by Shrek director Andrew Adamson, and rockets-red-glare taking off on No Love Deep Web while MC Ride screams in your ears while Zach Hill and Andy Morin create some of the most mind-destroying sounds leaving forensic cleaners wondering what to do with themselves? Yeah.

Want someone totally unique and not like the others? It’s Israeli dancehall artist Miss Red and Syrian defect-turned-peacemaker Omar Souleyman. You could also add Pakistani dark-wave outfit Aurat as well. Then you have artists we feel do no wrong with everything they do. Black Marble was introduced to us by Alice of WUSB’s Nightmare Aquarium while Happy Meals (now Free Love) was found in the wild. These two gave us a certain specific feel we get hearing their output that is way too good. They also signified new eras moving into new addresses during the decade. At the same time we found Free Love, we also found Uniform. We never heard of them until we showed up at Output (✞) when they shared a bill with Pharmakon, Prurient, Aaron Dilloway, Genesis P. Orridge, and Merzbow. Since then, we loved the prolificness and psychotic insanity of Michael Berdan’s various projects (York Factory Complaint, Drunkdriver, Believer/Law) and Ben Greenberg (Coca Leaf), who also produces and runs one of our favorite labels in Sacred Bones. Hip-hop producer Oldbills, with his cloud- / dream- rap style and technique, got me into the beat-tape world, so say hello to Fuzzoscope, SEENMR, Beat Detectives and All These Fingers when you see them. A late entry? Rachel Brown, half of Water From Your Eyes. We really loved “That’s The Girl” and “We’re Set Up” from All A Danceand then took ourselves to Brown’ssad-girl solo project Thanks For Coming for that New York City d.i.y. feel. Again, blame WUSB’s d.i.y. boy wonder Conor.

The above-mentioned weren’t the only ones who made a huge impression on us. Many albums and songs did the same in other ways. Not only did these albums have our attention the most, but some of them set the tone for personal specific events. I can tell you that Kedr Livanskiy’s January Sun andWater From Your Eyes’ All A Dance  (again)made for some essential and memorable soundtracks to hot Summer days and cold Autumn nights in New York City. New Dreams Ltd.’sInitiation Tape: Isle Of Avalon Edition wasour first discovery into vaporwave, perfectly replicating an early 90’s zeitgeist that was all too shockingly familiar to me. Refreshers’ How Bout U did the exact same thing but for the later half. Tearist’s Living: 2009-Present made us feel like we were in a totally different space we’d never been before and likely will never visit in real life. One glaring entry is Post Trash, the only non-artist / publication on the list whose annual compilations provide lots of what makes Omega WUSB’s post-punk and d.i.y shows. Dame’s Charm School and Black Boot’s 2013 demo not only captured the spirit of Bandcamp’s deep underground and undiscovered artists, but also gave Omega WUSB something else to play with.

But sirens be damned if we didn’t mention the other albums we rated highly. None more serious than Function & Vatican Shadow’s Games Have Rules, a sensory overloadexuding futurism, searing lights, and ambience in a world of darkness. That’s only one amazing techno record Hospital Productions introduced to us. Ninos Du Brasil was another. Nodoubt Vida Eterna supplied us with some very exciting and harrowing moments we’d oblige to experience again. We found The Raveonettes’ Pe’ahi and we’re open to be blown away again with their noisy red-levels of overloaded garage and surf sounds. While we could be turned off by the name and title of America Fuck’s Fertility Clown, facing their gigantic industrial / electronic anti-capitalist and pro-socialist manifesto is a dramatic undertaking gladly attempted. Though Tool’s Fear Innoculum was their first record in 14 years, their fans didn’t have it as bad as My Bloody Valentine’s. Try a 21-year wait for MBV which ironically dropped in total unexpected fashion and to the surprise of many. MBV had one of our listeners take notice and became responsible for Omega WUSB’s entry into shoegaze.

Obviously, we can’t forget all the many individual finds released this decade listed here. It’s a more precise and accurate list representing Omega on a more personal scale and these are the ones we come back to the most. Each and every one found here has that something special you can’t simply put your finger on, and they all tell a different story. Tracks like LNDN DRGS “Dope Sick” and GXFR’s “Ajax” are some of the most chilling hip-hop cuts we’ve ever experienced. No doubt Boy Harsher’s “Pain” and Azar Swan’s “Jungle Law” epitomize some of our most pulsating moments. Want to feel lost, hopeless, and isolated? There’s Nine Inch Nails’ “Over And Out”, Clams Casino’s “I’m Drawn” (Crim3s RMX) and Phil Western’s “Bleak Night”. Finds in Nick Klein’s “American Stomach” and Copper Sounds & Franco Franco’s “Accelerazione Generale” were so what-the-fuck and left-field that we were scrambling in tongues to figure out exactly where their ideas came from. Khruangbin’s “August 10″ really took us by surprise. We thought it was a usual lost Seventies vinyl find. Wrong. They’re a Houston trio whose brand of funk can replicate that mellow resonant groove to a tee.

Then our return favorites: Molly Nilsson’s “I Hope You Die”, Cold Cave & Black Rain & Genesis Breyer P-Orridge’s “Comprehension”, Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti’s “Fright Night (Nevermore)”, Lost Under Heaven’s “Black Sun Rising”, Uniform & The Body’s “In My Skin”, Lower Dens’ “Ondine”, and Boards Of Canada’s “Nothing Is Real”. And, if we had to pick our one absolute favorite that is worth everything to us? Preoccupations’ “Disarray”. It’s the most unforgettable song. Period.

That’s not all. There’s discoveries not of this decade we’ve found, too. That’s natural. Again, they supply a special time, place, and story for us. And just like this decade’s list, they have something special about them that makes them keepers. Just like how Cold Cave’s Cherish The Light Years became a turning point for me, Prurient’s Cocaine Death came along as an added plus. The sonic and historical origins of Suicide’s self-titled debut, Tunnel Canary’s “Jihad”, SPK’s “Serenace”, and Body Without Organs’ “Osiris Rises” totally defy any explanation and none rather needed or asked for. Some of them simply sound great. Primitive Weapon’s Surrender Yourself and Most Precious Blood’s Our Lady Annihilation makes the list based on sheer power and fire. Bathory’s self-titled debut is arguably one of the best black metal albums that still stands to this day, and don’t forget Mayhem’s either. Only a pinch of classic jazz / fusion finds in Steve Khan, Eric Gale, Negril, and Death are here; essentially a portal to a world which no longer exists. In fact, that genre gets a whole list to itself. Glass Candy’s “Warm In The Winter” laid the foundation for Omega WUSB’s re-entry to the schedule with thanks to our ally Christine of Mix Tape Radio, followed by another Italians Do It Better favorite: Desire’s “Mirror Mirror”. See any unfamiliar names? Bereket Mengistaab, Ata Kak, and Hirut Bekele mark the milestone in Ω+’s exposure to African musicks and we’re currently considering doing a special of it.

We didn’t forget about labels. It’s no surprise that five of the eight labels listed are from New York City. We’re not sorry at all for defending that flag. Thank Brian Shimkovitz’s label-blog Awesome Tapes From Africa for those aforementioned finds and doing what we’ve been doing after him. Wharf Cat and Katorga Works, two bastions of Brooklyn-based post-punk, noise rock, and d.i.y., have given us an immense amount of artists and aesthetic to gloss over. For all things darkness, we’re going with Sacred Bones and Hospital Productions all the way. The former introduced us to Pharmakon, Uniform, Cheena, and John Carpenter’s Lost Themes Remixed, one of our most favorite movie soundtrack projects. The latter lead us to Wes Eisold / Heartworm, Ron Morelli / L.I.E.S., a unique aesthetic which made us think strategically, and a legendary 20th anniversary showcase in Greenpoint we will never forget.

While around before the decade, Los Angeles’ Italians Do It Better has released some great stuff in Desire, Farah, Mike Simonetti, Chromatics, and more. A huge hat-tip to Johnny Jewel for all the free vinyl giveaways he’s sent us and the ones we ordered from him. A late entry we find intriguing is the UK’s Detriti, Their method of mostly monochromatic record covers, generic design, and easy-to-approach synthpop, darkness, and minimal electronics have us curious of them. As of now, Galatee, Filmmaker, In A Dramatic Gesture, and Parole E Azioni are considered for future airplay. Note that four of those listed had their own showcases on Omega WUSB. Honorable mention? Our correspondence with the always kind Emil Beaulieu and his RRRecords. We’ve missed purchasing from him during peak hipster (mid-Oughts), so we did it again this decade not once but twice to round up some noise titles truly deserving of our money. We’re relieved to say that we’re very proud to have those noise titles in our collection.

Label compilations? Why not. Going back to Jewel’s Italians- label, both of their After Dark volumes provided Omega WUSB with some great selections over the years. Hospital Productions was responsible for giving us Ron Morelli. His L.I.E.S. label compilation Music For Shut-Ins gave us some great marquee moments from Svengalisghost, Samantha Vacation, and Legowelt as we moved addresses. Fuzzoscope’s Earwax beat-tapes made us appreciate that lo-fi cassette feel even more. One dilapidated corner of noise, grind, and punk we didn’t know existed or could be felt was discovered via Monorail Trespassing’s Project Housing cassette, and from there lead us to Jewish Uprising, Cell Block, and Total Abuse. Monorail’s compilation was nothing like we experienced. So much that we even had dreams about it. Another last-minute entry that made it to the finish line is Avon Terror Corps, proudly given to us by our ally Joshua JF, better known as Fellony to all of you. If Copper Sounds & Franco Franco’s“Accelerazione Generale” (again) is any indication of some quite innovative electronic sounds, then we only have more of Avon Terror to look forward to.

Last and intentionally least: total disappointments. I really don’t need to explain to you how the lowest eight made the list (and we really do stress "lowest”), who’ll have their very own special front-row seat in Hell when they get there. The other entries also deserve no explanation. It’s best to just forget about them. Seriously.

Sure, there’s a lot to digest. That’s the nature of all things Omega. A decade allows us to cover a lot of ground from everywhere imaginable because this writer (VMFX) makes it all possible. 90% of our finds come from numerous music media outlets while 10% comes from streams. It’s imperative that we reach out to these said outlets to maintain both Omega WUSB’s “new, relevant, and current” ethos and Ω+‘s survival through new, classic, and personal finds. Both serve the same purpose to reach out to our listeners, followers, and supporters and we’re curious to see how it goes. We do many unique things and pull surprises other fellow blogs here don’t, which makes this list a curious but fun draw.

So who knows what the future will bring, and who knows if any of us will still be here to care (on a site that censors nudity like Communism, we have to mention). We can’t wait to see what the new Twenties will bring us, and maybe we’ll place our bets heavily as we just did. Thanks for playing.

(Originally published at the end of 2019.)

[konglindorm]

Shards of Glass: Chapter 1

    I lost Kai when we were nine. He went missing when we were seventeen.

    He was my best friend and brother and half my heart. It’s funny, how those feelings don’t go away. He was practically a stranger, by the time he disappeared, but he was still all those other things, too.

    (Manda’s still half convinced I’m in love with him. But Manda’s favorite game is seven minutes in heaven, and I’d rather get a root canal than go on a date, so there tends to be a fundamental breakdown in communication when we talk about that kind of thing.)

    Kai never came home Saturday night. His grandma reported him missing Sunday morning. By Monday—

    Monday was a snow day. It had been going on and off since Friday night, nonstop since Sunday afternoon. My parents were at work, and I wanted to keep Grandma company, but she was busy, with the police, and the—and I didn’t want to be in the way. So I heard it from the news, not from her.

    Local teen, missing two days. Last seen snowboarding at 3pm on Saturday. Snowboard washed up on the far side of the river. A glove and a boot found on the hilltop. Local teen missing, presumed dead.

    Kai missing, presumed dead.

    Manda called me right after it aired. “I know he was—I’m sorry.”

    “Kai’s not an idiot,” I said.

    “No one said he was.”

    “They did. They just did, on channel six—you think Kai would go down like that? Into the river? Everyone knows you don’t take the hill at that angle, because the Mississippi doesn’t always freeze.”

    “Okay, but Gerda, if it was already dark when he—”

    “He’s not stupid enough to be out in the dark alone, that close to the river. He’s not, he wouldn’t, Manda. He wouldn’t.”

    “Okay,” she said again, humoring me. “So what do you think happened?”

   “I don’t know. I just know he’s not dead. He—he can’t be. Not Kai.”

    Kai in the dark, squinting at me behind fogged up glasses. Kai laughing as he packed a snowball, Kai biking in the sun the day the training wheels came off, Kai in braces and glowers, Kai calling me names, Kai waiting at the back door with the snow falling at his back. Not Kai. Not Kai.

    He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. And that meant I had to find him.

    Boots—the heavy black ones that laced in the front. Snow pants—shiny, black, puffy, ugly, warm. The heaviest coat, the thickest mittens, with thin gloves beneath. My ice skating socks. Two scarves. That hat Grandma knitted for me for Christmas. Six granola bars in my pocket.

    Kai was a missing person, presumed dead. He was probably more than six granola bars away.

    He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. I grabbed a seventh granola bar.

     I had walked across town, down the hill, along the river, and into the woods, deep and deep and deeper, before the cold seeped into my shoes, before I realized what I was doing.

    I sat abruptly on the snowy ground. I was going to search for my likely-dead evil neighbor, alone, on a Monday afternoon in January, with nothing but the clothes on my back.

    He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. I stood up and pulled out the first granola bar.

~

    I’ve spent my whole life one wall away from Kai. Our families live in the two units of a townhouse, and our bedrooms share a wall. When we were kids we had a tin can telephone—we used one of Grandma’s needles with the biggest eye to pull the thread through the screens in our windows, then attached each end to a can inside our rooms. Whenever one of us wanted to talk, we’d knock on the wall, and the other would know to go pick up their can.

   We had to replace the string a few times, and the last one fell apart years ago, but the can still lives on my dresser, with a million other things Mom keeps telling me to throw away.

    The last few years, if Kai wanted to talk to me, he’d knock on the wall, and I’d go downstairs and meet him in the backyard. I don’t knock anymore—I learned a long time ago that the only way to have a relationship with Kai is on his terms.

    Manda says that’s unhealthy. I say Manda’s a hypocrite—she forgives people who keep hurting her, too. She says it’s different because Kai’s not my family. But he might as well be. You don’t stop loving people just because they become unlovable. I may not have liked Kai much, the last few years. But I’ll always do anything for the sake of the person he used to be.

~

    I know it started when we were nine, the trouble. That was the year Kai got glasses. It was also the year he got mean. (Unrelated.) He just got meaner and meaner. He had a special talent for mimicry that showed up that year, and he just—

    There was a huge rosebush between our front doors, and it made the biggest, brightest, best-smelling red roses I’ve ever seen, prettier even than the ones you can get from a florist. We were sitting just in front of it, holding very, very still, because there were a bunch of bees around. (Kai always liked bees.) And all of the sudden he shouted.

    I asked him if he’d got stung, and he shook his head. “Feels like something flew into my eye.”

    A minute later a bee landed on his hand, and he caught it—grabbed it by the wings.

    “What are you doing?”

    He shrugged. “I wanted a closer look,” he said. And he held it up really close to his face—I think he needed the glasses by then—but it was struggling, so it was hard to really look at. So he grabbed the stinger and pulled it out—because losing their stingers kills them—and then it wasn’t moving anymore, and he could get a better look.

    And it was so mean, and I was shouting at him, and then he just—dropped it, and he said, “I don’t—I don’t know why I did that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

    We dug a little hole and buried the bee under the oak tree in the backyard. But that was when it started. The day he killed that bee. It happened slowly. He started mocking people and stomping on ants and being rude to Grandma. But only sometimes. Other times he was nice. Other times he was still my best friend. And I just kept hoping he’d grow back out of it.

    (When your best friend grows up to be a jerk, you never suspect it’s because of magic.)

~

    I was twelve by the time I admitted to myself that Kai and I weren’t friends anymore. I was sleeping over at his house—we were already a few years out from being sleepover friends, really. But my parents have always travelled a lot, and until I turned fifteen and they decided I could stay home alone overnight, I stayed with Grandma and Kai.

    Kai still had his bunk bed back then—one bed for him, and one for a friend, and that friend was always me.

    I don’t even remember what he said. He’d been saying horrible things, and I’d been trying to ignore them, for a long time by then. I didn’t hang on to the things he said—I always just tried to forget them as soon as possible. But whatever he said that night, it upset me, more than the things he said usually did. It might have been about my parents—my adoptive parents, not my bio ones. Kai would never go there, even at his worst. Both sets are sore subjects, but there are lines Kai won’t cross, and there were more of them when we were twelve.

    My parents are my uncle—my bio mom’s brother—and his wife, really. My bio parents died in a car crash, and they were the only family left. At least, the only family we know about, because my bio dad was from Taiwan, and no one knew if he had any family left there or how to contact them. My parents adopted me because I was family, and it was the right thing to do. They love me, I think. They’ve had me since before I turned two. But I know they never wanted kids. So I’m touchy about it. That would have hurt my feelings, more than most things Kai might have said when we were twelve.

    Whatever he said, I climbed down from the top bunk and went to Grandma’s room; she was sitting up in bed, reading.

    “I don’t want to sleep in there. Kai’s being mean.”

    Grandma sighed and put down her book. She was hoping he’d grow out of it, too, but no luck, no matter how many groundings and timeouts and whatever he got. “Well, maybe you’re getting to be at the age where you shouldn’t be sharing a room.”

    After that I slept on the pullout couch, until Mom and Dad let me just stay home.

~

    I was thoroughly lost and down two granola bars by the time I thought of Grandma. (His grandma, not mine, not really.) To be told Kai was probably dead, and then that I’d gone missing—well, they’d probably find my body before Kai’s, even if he really was dead, because I didn’t go barreling toward the Mississippi like a first-rate idiot.

    We’re all she has left. To lose us both in the same weekend—

    And my parents. My parents—I’m the only family they have, too, and they’d definitely blame themselves if I wandered into the woods and froze to death when they were both working late again—and I knew I was going to freeze to death. I was beyond numb. I kept starting to fall asleep, and then the panic would wake me. I had no idea how long I’d been out—I didn’t have a watch, and it gets dark so early in the winter, it could have been less than an hour, or it could have been three or four. No one would miss me probably until morning—when Mom and Dad got home they’d just assume I was already in bed, so either they’d find my bed empty in the morning, or they’d leave early and someone at school would be the first to realize I was gone.

    I was going to freeze to death searching for a stupid jerk who was probably dead already, and there was no way Manda would ever believe I wasn’t in love with him after this—or anyone else either, and why should that even matter, when I was about to freeze to death?    

~

    We live in a cul-de-sac, with a huge circle of grass at the end, where the turn-around is—I guess it belongs to the city. But we used to build snow forts there every winter. Me and Kai—we were the only kids on the block, back then. There are some younger kids now, and I’ve seen them do the same thing.

    It was always a huge fort—we’d work on it for weeks. The plow would pile all the snow from the street there, so we had plenty of material to work with. We’d dig tunnels into the big piles the plow left. We were in there all day on weekends, and over Christmas break, until Grandma or my parents came to dig us out.

    Grandma would never come into the fort—she said her knees were too old—but she used to bring us each a thermos of hot chocolate while we were working. We’d go into the biggest cavern we’d dug out so far, and sit on the packed-down snow on the ground, pressed tight together, to drink it. No one makes hot chocolate like Grandma—I’ve watched her do it, and she just uses the cheap powder like everyone else, but hers tastes better.

    I was sitting on the ground in the woods, imagining Kai was pressed into my side, thinking of Grandma’s hot chocolate. And I wasn’t cold anymore, and I knew I was dying.

    Then I woke up.

-

Preorders open now on waxheartpress.com!

[agent-starbuck]

Jamestown, North Dakota

{REPOST} My first challenge! This fic holds a special place in my heart because I used to spend my summers in ND. I had to do some research on Sioux indian folklore, so I hope it's accurate enough. Thanks to @viceversawrites for beta'ing it and creating this challenge!

Mulder comforts Scully with a surprise picnic under the stars after a particularly difficult case in North Dakota.

_____________________________

He's been at the Stutsman County Sheriff's Office since seven o'clock this morning, sifting through piles of evidence and paperwork and following up on leads that have gotten him nothing. Nowhere. 

The dizzying flicker of overhead lights, along with the smell of old coffee and cigarettes, makes his head throb. He rubs incessantly at his temples with the pads of his fingers, willing the pain to subside.

He's not surprised that it doesn't.

He closes his eyes, wincing, as pictures of young girls' mutilated bodies burn into his retinas like a phosphorescent afterimage. He'll have to remember not to sleep tonight. 

The familiar ring of his cell phone pierces through his frazzled brain, and he scrambles across the desk to grab it, spilling a cup of water on his lap in the process.

"Mul-- shit. Mulder," he answers as he dabs at the wet spot with an old napkin that had been hanging around since lunch earlier.

"Mulder, are you ready to come get me? It's nearly nine o'clock. I feel like I've been at this for days, and I don't know if I can stomach another autopsy tonight."

Guilt prickles at his conscience like a cold, jarring rain. He feels like such an ass. Here he was feeling sorry for himself because he was stuck examining those grisly photos strewn across his makeshift desk all day, when it was Scully who had to face the horrors up close and personal. 

He doesn't know how she does it, case after case. 

"Of course," he replies. "Lemme just wrap this up, and I'll be there in ten."

His egress is swift. He stops only to stuff folders into his briefcase and clean up his mess before grabbing his jacket, and pushing his way through heavy steel doors to freedom. A warm, gentle breeze greets him on the other side, seeping into his bones and calming his weary soul.

It's dusk, now. 

Bands of colorful light stubbornly cling to the remnants of sunshine as they disappear behind the horizon-- caught in limbo between earth and sky-- waiting their turn to be swallowed by the darkness. Day and night locked in an endless battle for time and space.

The sky seems so much bigger in North Dakota. More so than any other state he's been to. Its awe-inspiring presence towers over everything, claiming dominion over the land and making anything tethered to the earth seem infinitesimally small. 

That's why he likes it out here. Back home, people call him a weirdo for always staring at the heavens. Here, it's impossible not to.

Here, the heavens stare at you. 

•••••

The radio station spits and crackles half a country song through the speakers before Scully reaches to turn it off with a sigh, bathing the car in empty silence. The cabin of the car vibrates as the tires beat a path through dusty, gravel backroads to their motel outside town.

They've had to wash the car three times since arriving here.

"You wanna eat at that truck stop diner before we reach the motel? The one with the really good curly fries?" He sends the question out into the void, his stomach growling for attention.

"No. I just want a hot bath and a bed." 

He steals a glance in her direction. Her wistful gaze is fixed upon the slideshow flicker of moonlit prairieland streaming past her window. She seems upset. He thinks he knows why.

"Look, Scully… this case. I know it's hard. I know what you're going through."

"Do you, Mulder?" she quips. "Do you, really?" She's turned to look at him now, her pointed stare cutting through him like a stone-sharp arrow.

"I think so," he says hesitantly. "This is probably one of the worst cases we've been on."

"Yeah…" she scoffs then looks away, as if composing her thoughts, before continuing.

"I spent my entire day cutting open the corpses of young, innocent girls whose families may never get the privilege of knowing or understanding what happened to them," she starts, her voice straining against the overwhelming emotion bleeding through.

"I had to speak with the families-- mothers and fathers and elder tribal leaders-- to convince them I needed to conduct these autopsies to find answers. That there was no other way," her voice begins to waver, and his stomach clinches at the sound of her holding back tears. "And I tried to do it with dignity, Mulder. I did."

He represses the urge to reach over and gather her small hand in his, unsure if now is the right time, if she'd at all be receptive to it. His fingers almost make the journey across the console before her voice startles them back.

"I fought this entire day with local law enforcement and coroners who treated these victims and their families like castaways. Who didn't think they warranted the kind of comprehensive investigation needed to solve this case because they lived on an indian reservation. Because they weren't white."

"I'm so sorry, Scully," he whispers, waging an internal struggle within himself, deciding whether or not to stop the car, to pull her into his arms, before ultimately choosing against it. They're almost at the motel. And he doesn't trust himself not to let things get too far. 

"I had no idea you had to go through that today. If I'd known..."

"There wasn't anything that you could've done, Mulder," she says defeatedly. "I guess… I'm just tired. I really just want to go to bed and forget it."

He understands, he does. He wants the same. Except he can't face that empty motel room of his alone. 

They pull into the parking lot and he kills the engine. The vibrations from their rough journey still linger throughout his body, his ears buzzing in the silence, and he waits.

"You, um, wanna come in-- over? To my room?" His voice is fraught with nervous anticipation-- a teenager asking his crush to prom.

"Mulder-- I… I don't think it's a good idea. We're on a case, and we decided to stay in our respective rooms. Remember?"

He remembers. His selective memory is just having a difficult time remembering why he'd agreed to it. Especially now when all he wants to do is gather her in his arms and make her forget this day ever happened. 

He wants to forget.

Continue...