#as opposed to like- a sunflower skirt

[sergle]

i LOVE LOVE LOVE your funky little round ladies they are so pretty and make me smile all the time. i would actually be into a skirt which incorporates the human figure as illustrated by you because i feel like that's part of what i Know You For and i just find them so lovely

thank you so much!!!!! i'm rlly glad you like my goils, but- it's harder to sell skirts with like, people on them? maya made a beach babes skirt a hot minute back, and used to make fandom skirts, and they just don't seem to Hit the same as far as sales go

[els-wonderland]

Ranking Bridgerton Outfits: Season 1 Penelope

Photo credits to Tv Costumes on Pinterest!

Penelope's Debut Dress, Episode 1

I love this dress! It's one of the only Penelope dresses this season with the Season 3 fit that doesn't cut the bust in half. The undertones of greenish-yellow on the cream fabric look lovely with her red hair, and the jewelery is understated and elegant for her presentation to the Queen. No notes.

2. Pink Floral Dress, Episode 2

She looks so fru-fru in the best possible way. The floral embellishments pop here and there without looking garish, and the accessories of her frilled sheer gloves and the flower-and-ribbon headpiece tie everything together so sweetly. Her hair is great too, with the one long ringlet.

3. Lacy Green Dress, Episode 3

Give Penelope more greens like this! Her hair almost reminds me of 1960s updo, and the diadem and necklace tie in well with the lace overskirt. I love the scallopy pattern of the flowers on the lace, it makes her look a bit mermaid-y!

4. Pink Feather(ington) Dress, Episode 6

This one is just so delicate and ethereal, the feathered appliques against the pink satin bodice make her look like an angel. Do you see her walking down the hallway, with that pleated skirt flowing behind her? The only thing that doesn't work with this look is the necklace, it's just too harsh for the softness of the other accessories.

5. Pink Fern Dress, Episode 3

1989 Little Mermaid, take notes. This is how you do red hair with a vibrant shade of pink.

6. Garden Ballgown, Episode 1

So pretty, almost fairy-like with the sprinkling of little flowers in her hair. Something about the overskirt with the flowers climbing up over the already flowery fabric reminds me of a rambling meadow. I don't even mind the polyester gloves, because at least they match decently well.

7. Butterfly Ballgown, Episode 1

Is it in your face? Obviously. Is it giving more Art Nouveau than 1813? Yes. But a little campy? Her prettiest yellow dress? Inexplicable how she could blend into a crowd in something like this? Yeh

8. 'Sunflower' Dress, Episode 3

Probably one of the most historically accurate costumes all season. In certain lights it gets into the nauseating yellow green that I hate on Pen, and the pink gloves are heinous, but I give love the froofy like gathered sleeves, the lower cut of the bust, and the details of the train.

9. Regency Barbie, Episode 7

Nicola Coughlan and the costume designers really predicted Diplomat Babrie all the way back in 2020. The little band of posies around the bust really makes this look for me, thought I could do without the big chunky necklace. Portia definitely picked that out for her.

10. Yellow Walking Dress, Episode 4

Cute! So cute! The shimmery polka dots remind me of a Barbie doll yet again, and the light pink trimming and rosettes under the sleeves make this one memorable for me. Surprisingly simple for a Penelope look.

11. Flowered Promo Dress, Episode 3

I do prefer the promo version with the tiara to the flower, but I'm not mad at it. I think I'd find this dress very over-the-top if it had flowered appliques all the way down, but the way they peter out into tendrils across the skirt puts me in the mind of a country garden. It's nice to see some pops of red on Pen.

12. Orange Leaf Dress, Episodes 1 and 3

I wish they gave Penelope more over-the forehead curls as opposed to the little clusters on either side of her face. Little curls on the forehead feel more 1810s than the latter. The yellow adds a lot more dimension to this fabric, and I do prefer the yellow/ruched trim to the yellow and orange ribbon/plain neckline.

13. Engagement Dress, Episode 6

I don't even mind the black waistband. In fact I'm kind of a fan-it's giving Parisian-themed bedroom-but the white lace descending from it rubs me the wrong way. Love her big, fluffy ringlets.

14. Floral Spencer, Episodes 3 and 5

It's giving a bit of Hawaiian shirt, but I kind of love the combination of the froggy green, saffron yellow, and flamingo pink. I like how the appliques overlap the edges of her spencer, the slightly overgrown vibe of some of her flowered looks really scratches my brain.

15. Yellow Flowered Dress, Episode 8

Abhor the way they did her hair here. The fabric is so dainty, but the dress is a little boring, and I hate the chunky necklaces on her.

16. Grandma's Couch Dress, Episode 7

Grandma's couch/pos. A very soft, cushy, slightly musty-smelling couch. Don't like the centered corsage, it doesn't match anything else on the outfit, and they need to stop putting that necklace with so many otherwise nice looks.

17. Pilled Dress, Episode 8

This dress looks like it's wool covered with pills, and the dark green and hot pink of her necklace and hair ornaments respectively pull my eye from the dress, which I honestly don't mind, because the fabric looks itchy as all hell.

18. Yellow Floral Promenade Outfit, Episode 2

If they'd just take away that waistband, give her a gauzier shawl, and stop piling her hair so high, this one wouldn't be half bad.

19. Yellow Dinner Dress, Episode 4

I truly do believe that pinks and greens suit Pen better than these bright yellows, or even just a more pastel yellow.

20. Dandelion Dress, Episodes 3 and 6

I understand why Pen is holding her arms like that, because having those little yellow balls rubbing against my bare skin would drive me absolutely crazy.

21. Meeting Marina Dress, Episode 1

The hair and that big ol' bow really ruin this one. The fabric looks so peachy and light with her red hair, and I just think some soft curls falling around her shoulders would make her look like such a doll.

22. Yellow Upholstery Dress, Episode 5

This looks like a Target throw pillow. Burn than necklace.

23. 'Mine Is Yellow' Evening Gown, Episode 8

I CANNOT STAND the greenish-gray look of the embroidery on the bodice, which is sad because her hair looks perfect. The cut of the bodice is cutting her bust in half.

24. Chartreuse and Pink Dress, Episode 8

Frankly pukey-looking. The pink trim makes it infinitely worse.

25. Tadpole Dress, Episode 1

Something about this fabric just reminds me of those Tiktoks of people putting frog eggs in jars. That pink shawl is not necessary.

26. Black and Chartreuse Dress, Episode 1

See above- the green, the pink, the black-no.

[hotgirlmythology]

Tum'jai outfit idea

hiii everyone I have some outfit ideas for my oc Tum'jai even though I haven't even decided what she actually looks like lmaoo

Here is what I have so far: 1) She likes to look sexy while kind of playful at the same time, in a rejection of the rather starched and regal attire of the previous line of 5(!) successive emperors. They were all quite boring. Tum'jai was very proud of being an empress of people, not of trade caravans. 2) She has access to a vast array of silks and dyes from domestic production, as well as some very fine craftspeople, given her ideally situated location in the heart of Minashun 3) Her dominion is particularly deficient in accessible metals, and while she is able to use imported metals in jewellery or piercings tradition says that the current ruler wears very minimal metal as part of their actual clothing, though in accessories and piercings it is generally permitted

Hence I have quickly drafted up some outfits for any occasion - this may be extremely disjointed but at the same time it should be possible to follow.

Formals: For holding ceremonial court, receiving high ranking guests who may take things marginally the wrong way if received in a nightie

These would likely take the form of long dresses and would be significantly adorned. I am thinking heavy silk sheets dyed richly, maybe in a darker crimson because umm she likes that??? This is boring. Over this long dress would be a sunflower yellow asymmetric skirt, silk too obviously. I think also some woven patterns, though what these should be of I have literally no clue.

I have also been toying with the idea of incorporating a corset purely to synch the draping fabric in a bit and also because it is conveniently made to attach lace to. However, this might not be too formal, so instead I went with the skirt synching around her waist

In terms of jewellery it's going to be quite ostentatious, think Egyptian pharaoh necklace, but with larger jewels and more sheet metal-y.

The headdress depends heavily on the occasion.

Slightly-less-formals: For receiving acquaintances, holding civil as opposed to ceremonial court. Very much lighter clothes , though in this case mostly still covering. Still in dark crimson as she likes the colour, but this time the overskirt is gauzy and complemented by a yellow chest sash as well.

Instead of the large ceremonial gold "necklace", she has one that looks more like a slimmed down gorget, like a choker but extending down a bit. It also reaches down her torso a short distance, with a bit of silk underneath so the cool metal doesn't irritate it.

If she does wear a headdress at all, it is likely to be a veil either made of beads or lace. Acquaintances and people of her own city are likely to be able to read her expressions better, she reasons, and it is definitely not that she likes the mystique

Absolutely-in-no-way-formals: When no delegations are expected and Tum'jai can finally have a break. As is probably extremely obvious from her character thus far, this is the variety of clothes she has the biggest variety of. - A waterfall neckline sleeveless affair designed to hug the waist mildly using a cunningly disguised pull-through string that tucks into a single buttoned pouch at the back. It's in ummm light blue because i like that colour so she probably might - A practical tunic and breeches, kind of floaty in order to retain moisture while out walking the city or surrounding area. Unfortunately I have no way to make this sexy. There is no point being sexy if you die of heatstroke. - A very flowy gossamer silk dress. Gossamer as in, clingy. I am smirking as I write this, please take the hint. She has several of these because the base tends to get kind of mucky given it pools around a lot, and there is only so clean you can keep a palace. It amounts to a bedsheet. A very silky bedsheet. It would be useless in a bed. - A slightly shorter corseted lace top and skirt, to be put with some elaborate jewellery pinning up her voluminous hair (which is very luscious and black and wavyish curly and and). She likes wearing this because it looks very hot. Ignore the heatstroke problem because she only wears it in the evening - Something topless because SOMEBODY told me it would be fun (you know who you are) and to be fair in areas of more shaded, humid heat (like, for example, the crammed inner areas of a savanna/desert city), going topless might be more normalised. Idk in any case the skirt paired with this would be a 3 layer thing with the undermost being an underskirt because 3 layers of skirts in a desert is asking for trouble. She also wears a belly chain because I saw a picture of one on pinterest while writing this and it looked pretty.

This last one conveniently allows me to talk about piercings. Because it's frowned upon to use metal and metallic colours in your clothes, jewellery is often used, but also piercings are frequent. Common ones are in the ears, nose and navel. Herbalists and magicians are in massive demand in the beauty industry, as they are able to dull the pain and reduce infection risk, which is no mean feat when you need to import most of your herbs as dried varieties and thus reduce their potency a lot. This actually is not very related to the topless outfit as I was going to say Tum'jai mightve gotten nipple piercings but I think those might have been a bit too far in medieval medicine even if you do have magicians who can just spontaneously make the hole appear. Idk she might still have them they are quite pretty.

TA-DA YOU AHVE REACHED THE END OF THE OUTFIT POST!!!! I hope you liked it and if you didn't tell me so so that I can persuade you that it is in fact the greatest piece of literature imaginable ok ciao ciao hotties ;)))))

[greeksorceress]

aegon favors lucerys over his own siblings and jacaerys. may it be because lucerys is actually almost a decade younger than him and aegon can treat him like a toy, as if the younger boy is nothing but a plaything for whenever he isn’t busy nursing cups of chasing skirts. whatever it might be, aegon always has little magic tricks prepared to sweep little lucerys’ mind off, and he would be the first (if not the only one) to be greeted when they all meet for training. 

helaena favors him, too. lucerys is a force to be reckoned with, with energy similar to the one of a storm. still, he’s the most patient with helaena, surprisingly. not only that, but he also understands her, truly understands her. he’s the only one who can keep up with helaena’s inscrutable words, and he would never oppose his sweet aunt when she asks for a dance (or the idea she has of one), or when she needs help hunting for certain species of insects until the sun sets in the horizon. 

of course jacaerys does, too. lucerys is his little brother, the first to be born after him. the kind of bond they share is yet to be matched by any set of members amongst their family. lucerys is jacaerys’ partner in crime, his other half, the heart of his thoughts and the brains behind his feelings. he would die for lucerys, and he would do it without hesitation. 

even daeron seems to seek lucerys more than he seeks the rest of them, for the letters that he sends to the second son of rhaenyra are always heftier in number and length than the ones he sends to his siblings. to his own mother. 

and then, there’s aemond. he doesn’t say it (he doesn’t need to, much to his own chagrin), but it’s clear as the summer skies that he prefers lucerys too. he basks in lucerys’ admiration and needs his attention like a sunflower yearns for the sun to feed it. he always answers any and all questions that lucerys’ inquisitive mind might come up with, and if he works harder both in the training yard and with the maesters looking for that very specific impressed look in lucerys’ eyes, well, that’s his business and his alone.

and when lucerys follows aemond around, desperately asking for his love and his time (blessedly unaware of how much aemond would actually give him), they all start speaking. soft mumbling here and there between servants that think are being subtle enough, and obvious jesting from the family members who don’t need to be coy. 

“aemond is lucerys’ favorite”

lucerys doesn’t care about no magic trick if aemond is there to talk about a new fable he learned in his lessons that day. lucerys doesn’t have time to chase bugs and dance in the sunlight if aemond says he’s going to help him with his sword training. and he has no time to admire jacaerys when aemond bests them all, even with the lack of a dragon, with such an ease (well practised, but lucerys doesn’t need to know that) that leaves little lucerys breathless.

for they are all right, and the satisfaction of the matter settles in aemond’s guts like a warm blanket. for he is, indeed, lucerys’ favorite. he’s the favorite’s favorite, and nobody can take that from him.

[yanderenightmare]

yandere bully ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, heavy dubcon, bordering on noncon, profanity, manipulation

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

SEVEN MINUTES IN HELL - PART TWO

TRUST ME

It's safe to say that Bakugo had gotten used to a certain lifestyle. 

Being top three in all years in the Hero-course, girls fawning, falling at his feet left and right, drooling, begging him to fuck them. 

Or… begging him to take them out on a date. 

But let’s be honest… no girls want to date him, they just want to ride his dick once a week. They just want to know what it feels like to be taken by a real man before halting, limping back to their clueless vanilla-boyfriends, all made up of soft smiles and warm hugs and nothing like Bakugo and how he spanks their girlfriend’s ass until blood leaks from popped veins and his name comes falling from their lips like tearful prayer.

Nowadays though, he’d had to kick more girls to the curb than he could count on both his hands without as much as getting his dick wet from the girl he’d picked for himself, the star that was once so bright and shining like a wild sunflower before he forced himself into her life. 

She seemed to have wilted, as she wouldn’t even spare him a second glance until he forced it from her.

Or… that was unfair. She was perfect, doing everything he asked, but… it wasn’t really willingly, now was it? 

All he needed was ask, but he knew she didn’t try to make him happy because she wanted to, she didn’t try and make him laugh because she wanted to, it didn’t come naturally as it did with others, she did it because she was scared shitless of what he would do if she didn’t.

It made him so unbelievable angry to see her laugh with others. Wrathful, vengeful even, when she buckled over and nearly fell, rolling on the floor in the pit of her humor, crying with how painfully she was wheezing. So furious because he couldn’t even blame her. He couldn’t blame her for preferring other people over him, other smiling laughing idiotic people, pleasant people as opposed to him and his aura of grumpiness. 

Some insouciantly greedy, almost evil, part of him whispered to him those times he saw her smile that genuine angel-bright smile, never with him, that perhaps if he simply took her, took her away, tucked her away more so than what he had already, that perhaps she’d have no choice but to share that light with his darkness, because supernova’s like her need things to shine for, they crave lighting people up, they’re just so fucking eager to please, and if he were the only one around to absorb all which she had to give, then she’d have no choice but to share.

It shouldn’t have been legal for him to demand more of her. 

She did everything he asked. 

She worked out with him, pushing herself to limits and extents she didn’t even know existed, almost until she barfed, almost until she collapsed, then praising his teaching-methods instead of admitting it was too much. 

She watches his movies, where she would contort the scary imagery of whatever horror or action movie Bakugo would put on the screen into the finest goriest comedy, cough up her lungs at the guts and brains leaking from sliced abdomens or cracked skulls, burry her face in his shoulder as she cried out laughter, instead of jumping into his arms like the scared little lamb she was supposed to be, begging him to turn it off and giving him an opportunity to slide his hand up her shirt. 

She studied with him, again gushing about what an amazing tutor he is instead of being honest by letting him know what an absolutely aggressive jerk he is, saying words she’d regret and have to find a way of apologising for, making it up to him in so many ways Bakugo lusted for, fantasised about when he laid next to her at night. 

She joined him with his friends, let him sleep in her bed, she even ate what and when he told her eat, dressed how he wanted her to dress, changed if he didn’t approve, cheered like his own personal perfect cheerleader at his battles, being probably the loudest person in the bleachers, making all the boys jealous of him, doing everything and more, and still, still it just wasn’t what he wanted, wasn’t what he needed.

And no, what he needed wasn’t her pussy served on a platter. 

What he needed was leverage. He needed reassurance, he needed her trapped, locked down, glued to him. He needed to know, to believe, to trust that he had her not just for now, but for as long as he wanted, forever. 

And having her in the most primal shameless way, showing her what he could give her, show her that he isn’t just a god on the battlefield but has those same godlike skills when it comes to making her see stars was how he intended to make her need him. 

Granted, he’s never actually made love like how she’d probably want to, but he’s fucked plenty of sluts to have confidence in saying that he knows the female body like the back of his hand. 

If he could just feel her melt beneath him, just make her unravel, wrap her around his pinky, just once and he would know, she wasn’t leaving him anytime soon, she wasn’t ever going to leave him, not unless she wanted her pretty pictures leaked.

Not that he would ever let anyone see her like that, that was just for him, but he doubted she would think too much of what he was willing to do or not. That’s the beauty of threats, they don’t need to be true for the outcome to be fruitful. 

Though, he really wished it didn’t come to that. 

No, once she gets a taste of what it feels like to be taken care of the way he would take care of her, when she wakes up from what fever-dream he’s given her with a mouthful of honey and the newfound realisation that with him is where she belongs, where she’s always belonged, where she’ll always belong.

Or...

Perhaps it was about the sex. 

He had been good, loyal, patient, understanding, boyfriendly. 

She wasn’t the only one making sacrifices. 

It’s unfair of him to hold that against her, and he knows that… most of the time… but no one can blame him for forgetting it when he sees her sitting next to him in that short school-skirt, so in-reach, so grabbable, with his bed taunting them from right behind his back, how easy it would be to just pick her up and throw her down on it, watch her bounce while looking up at him in a giggling fit. 

He can’t be expected to focus on doing algebra with that in his mind, he can’t be expected to tutor her when she looks at him with that apologetically hopeless clueless expression, laughing that nervous laugh that every time warns him about how completely lost she is to what he’s talking about.

Granted, it was him who told her he would be tutoring her, because god and every teacher along with him knew she needed it, what with how she daydreams or pranks each and every class away like the ditzy klutz she is.

“I… I- I don’t know?” Was her answer to yet another equation he’d poured out from between his grit teeth.

Plan A revolved around her wanting to repay the favor, give him a little present for helping her out. Tit for tat, eye for an eye, sort of thing. And usually she would, give him a little something in return, a chaste kiss to his cheek, a frisky make-out session that always ended just a bit too early, never fully what he wanted.

Plan B was to tire her out, creating an opening for him to suggest that they do something that requires less thinking. She usually gets distracted, sometimes she’ll even initiate it in hopes he’d let her off the hook with studying, she’d pout her lips, look at him with those large pretty puppy-dog eyes, coax him into cuddling, but she’d always fall asleep just a minute later.

Plan C was a spin off plan B. Where in hopes of making her the bad guy, he would be sweet, he has been sweet, offering his help to tutor her, she would grow tired like she always does, only this time he wouldn't allow her to rest, therefor causing her to snap, resulting in her saying something she’d regret, again resulting in her apologising, something he could mold into her owing him a favour, something that would end up with having her splayed out on the sheets of his bed, ready for the taking. 

He just needed an opportunity to hold something against her, an excuse, a favor to cash in, he needed her backed up into a corner.

Plan C wasn’t working though, unfortunately.

She never grew fed up with him, she never said anything foul. 

He was stupid to think that an opportunity like that would arise. She isn't like him after all. In fact, she’s the farthest thing from him.

Well, time for plan D then. Another spin off plan B.

Don’t hold it against him, but he’d been spouting bullshit for the last three minutes in hopes of making her frustrate over herself, where the former plan had evolved into something a bit more crucial. 

But, she’s insanely tolerant, reminding him of Kirishima’s sturdy quirk, though he had to admit finding her unfaltering confidence and dedication way more mind-blowingly impressive. 

He had been chipping at that composure of hers for the last two hours without breaching the surface. 

But there was still hope. 

Everyone has a breaking point after all, and he could sense she was getting fed up. Fed up with his tone, fed up of him treating her like a moron, fed up with him. 

It would only take one last blow now and she’d break.

Or so he thought.

He had impressive amounts of patience, but he was also nearing his breaking point and finally after one more of her soft-natured laughs, he was the one that had enough, he didn’t want to wait any longer.

And plan E was looking way more opportune by the minute.

“You think it’s funny that you’re an idiot?”

Her eyes widened and turned instantly glossy at his harsh words, looking like a kicked-puppy, before it contorted into an expression of something akin to anger but not truly as vicious. 

Yet, obviously taking offence, huffing as she got up to leave, proving how she too was done with playing their little fantasy, uncaring, or rather forgetting, that she wouldn’t be going anywhere without his permission.

“I think so too, I think it’s fucking hilarious.” He mocked, hand gripping her shirt and pulling her back between him and the desk. 

Already she was pushing at him, as he leaned in closer gripping her hips and gliding her onto his desk, wanting to feel her thighs and legs cradle around his torso. 

“But, you know what I find even funnier?” 

She opened her mouth to speak, but she was given no room to let her protest out as he raised his voice in warning. 

“What I bet you laugh your ass off at behind my back?!” 

Her annoyance turned ashen, faltering into that meek fearful look he didn’t realise until know that he’d missed. 

“Is how much of an idiot I am.” 

Her brows scrunched, hands placed on the thick stiff muscles of his arms as she felt him start to rub circles into her midriff where his fingers where digging into her soft flesh through her shirt. 

“I’ve been so fucking patient.” It was barely above a whisper, almost sounding broken, like a cry or a plead or an apology, but then his face split into a snarl as he leered at her, teeth flashed at her face making her jump slightly where she sat planted on the desk. “So fucking patient with you that it’s ridiculous.” 

His nose touched hers where she slightly bowed her head. His eyes were blood-shot, or perhaps it was just how they always looked. She wouldn’t know as she made it her unrelenting mission to never look directly at him. 

But now she couldn’t escape his stare, the stare she’d feared so much, pushed tight up against her, so tight she smelled his breath when she inhaled, so tight she felt the thin hairs on her upper lip dance as he huffed out his own growling breaths. 

“And no, I’m not talking about math.”

Her hands had moved to his chest as he hunched further and further over her, pressuring her to lie down on the desk. 

“Please, Baku-” She tried, adding slightly more pressure to her hold on him, but honestly... no amount of her strength would be able to fend him off, especially with the mood he was in.

“No!” He cut her off with a growl, finally forcing her down on her back underneath him, as he palmed the doughy flesh of where her hips connected to her ass, greedy and so very hungry, still keeping a firm hold on her with a thumb hooked on her hip, keeping her in place. “No more please, and I told you it’s fucking Katsuki.” 

She flinched as he spit the correction in her face, feeling something bulging slot and rub itself up against where her skirt had hiked up and exposed her thin panties. 

“No more pleas, no more excuses, no more teasing, no more jokes.” 

He spotted a tear dripping down her cheek, escaping with how hard she was squeezing her eyes shut to avoid his gaze.

She whimpered before she spoke. “I- I’ve do- done every- everything you- you asked.” She blubbered, her hands removed from their insignificant standoff with his chest and shot up to cover her face as she began crying, wiping at them as they fell, pathetic and broken and so pretty his balls hurt with how much he wanted to bury himself inside her no doubt tight cunt.

Desperate now, he bumped his erection into her heat. Trying to steal her focus away from the action by gripping her chin between his rough finger-pads, his lips brushing up her jawline, inhaling her perfume, the scent making another pleasurable shiver spring to his cock, again humping into her. 

“So, what’s one more thing?”

Her heart would have sunk by his words if it weren’t for the building intensity that spiked it to beat faster, hammering in her chest as she felt what she now had no doubt was him pushing into the scared place found between her thighs. 

She could feel her panic bubble up where she was pushed against the cold wooden desk, with her boyfriend’s unwanted heat radiated and seeping through her clothes to tickle her skin. 

She didn’t want this. She wasn’t sure if she ever would want this. 

Bakugo had told her so many times that this was something she needed, everyone needed, but as her heart kept pumping so profusely in her chest, as though it were some blaring alarm, she wasn’t at all sure if she liked the way the stubble on his shaved chin scratched as it rode up her neck when he planted soft open-mouthed wet kisses there, she wasn’t sure if she at all wanted his large calloused wandering hands to stroke and tamper with her soft skin as he pulled her shirt out of her skirt to touch and feel up her stomach and squeeze the soft flesh of her tits, and the more and more his threatening clothed cock continued in rubbing desperately against her own teased sex she fell short of understanding just what it was she didn’t want, if it was the intimacy or just him.

Her panic built like bile in her throat, wanting to burst, which it did. 

“I’m not ready- I don’t- can’t we just…” 

He captured her chin between his thumb and index finger, lips coming to shut her up, cut off whatever protesting excuses she was about to splutter out. 

She tried getting her words out, trying ever so timidly to shake from the kiss, yet however which way she tried turning her head, Bakugo simply followed to deepen it, turning more bruisingly passionate by the second.

Her hands were kept unsurely in their delicate touching on his chest, again in her fear of souring the mood she only barely pushed at him to get off, whereas his hands grasped and groped up her thighs, feeling her soft flesh up like dough, squeezing and kneading and just touching her, all of her, despite her small hums of discomforted surprise.

Large encompassing hands took a break from their pioneering and easily pried her smaller ones off his chest, interlocking his fingers with hers and pushing them down to her sides where they wouldn’t get in the way. 

The kiss then turned rough, hungry as he yet again rocked himself into her, a rugged groan escaping from deep within his throat as her struggles met him with her own type of delicious friction, kissing his sensitive bulge with little caution.

He was so sensitive from having to have held back his primal urges for so long, especially after being teased daily by the soft grabbable little mouse he slept next to throughout every night without being allowed to do more than simply hold her, being teased with her ass slotted against his crotch as they spooned. 

If she wasn’t careful with her movement he might just become a pathetic mess and cum in his pants with how pent up he was.

His other hand made to slip under her skirt to feel up the lace of her panties, wanting nothing more but to slip his finger inside her no doubt tight little hole and work her up until she’d be dripping drenching his hand with wetness, wanting to hear those panicked whimpers turn into ones of pleasure instead, but she was making it impossible with all her troublesome wiggling. 

His fingers forgot their quest between her thighs in favor of picking her up and moving her to the bed instead. 

She tried pushing, but it was so weak that he could pretend to not feel it. 

He wouldn’t be stopping unless she flat out screamed at him, and even then, she’d have to be brutally clear or else he’d take it for screams of pleasure.

He made sure the fall was soft, placing her down on her butt first before his hand cusped the back of her head as he pushed her down onto her back with him hovering on top, deep kisses aiding his quest in pressing her and keeping her beneath him.

She jostled under the entrapment of his weight when his digits stroked up over her panties, rubbing and dipping into the warm tender skin found beneath. 

Her hands pushed at him then, only a little, though it should have been enough to get her message across, but as she realized it wouldn’t she turned her head to the side, freeing her lips from his attacking ones and allowing her to speak her protest, or… more whine than speak.

“Katsuki…”

He shushed at her from where he was nuzzling in her neck, seeming almost lovesick like a frenzied pup as he began to lightly hump into the mattress, his teeth nibbling at the thin skin of her throat. 

“Don’t worry… I’ll make you feel good.” It was a drawled-out mumble, but it told her of how he had no intention of stopping.

“But-” She tried, but was quickly made to shut up as her chin was once again captured and dragged to make her look up at him, his lips again pressing into her, seizing all words.

Soon his antagonizing finger hooked under her underwear, rough-textured fingertips quickly making their way to rub over the sensitive lips found at their disposal. 

Her struggles grew then, her chest jutting forward to try and lift him off her, to allow her to speak, but it was as though he was glued to her, his fingers nearly marking their presence into her cheeks as his wet mouth and even wetter tongue continued exploring the insides of her mouth. 

She whimpered at the feel of his fingers pushing through her folds, gliding up and down the slit. Jolting once too violently, Katsuki laid all his weight down onto her, trapping her there completely, quenching the harshness of her struggles and subduing them to what felt like she was trying to meet his desperate humping.

“Trust me.” 

He should have whispered it, he should have tried making it sound less aggressive as he cuddled with the lips of her pussy, sticking one finger inside her warmth, followed by her squealing in surprise against his lips. 

Her fingernails marked their presence into his skin as she held onto his arm, still not allowed to protest, still only barely allowed to breath.

He couldn’t help but growl at the feel of how tight she was, or… at the feel of how unprepared she was. 

She whimpered as it was no doubt uncomfortable being skewered onto his thick finger without being at all wet, but he was determined to make that change. 

His thumb pushed into her clit, starting to rub slow carful circles into the hooded and hidden pearl, wanting it to pucker out to meet him. And soon, at the hands of his experienced fingers, and perhaps encouraged by her virginal thrill of having something touch her for the first time, his wishes were met. 

The finger buried inside her began squishing in wetness, allowing him to add another one at the expense of her gasping against him, her hands relenting slightly in their need to push him off, a soft uncertain hum simmering against his lips, making him smirk, gloat and bloom with cocky bliss.

Working her tightness with his digits, coating them in slick, he began curling them, feeling the waves of her tensing and melting beneath him. Parting them, scissoring them inside of her plushie walls, his thumb rubbing tight patterns into her bead.

Encouraged by her struggles subsiding he began pumping the digits in and out, feeling her wetness coat his hand. The actions finally earning him a moan, a sweet trembling breathy moan, one that got right to his head as his grin widened against her lips. 

“You see?” He asked, lips still barely detaching from her, breathing the words into her. “You were just scared…” 

Their eyes locked and he was happy to see her orbs large and glossy yet cotton-flavored and blissful as she looked up at him. 

“You don’t need to be scared with me, just let me do this for you, trust me…” 

He kissed her softly now, no brutality or forcefulness, but lightly and sweetly and tenderly, so much so she almost forgot it was Bakugo. 

“I’ll make you feel good.”

But it was Bakugo. 

It was Bakugo. 

Bakugo who’d forced her into a relationship. 

Bakugo: her self-proclaimed boyfriend, her self-proclaimed roommate, her tutor, her guard-dog, her warden. 

Bakugo, who was now persuading her into giving him her virginity.

She was about to answer, but as though he precepted her growing trepidation he met it all with a sharp hooking of his fingers, making her arch her back up into him, her knees trembling where they were pushed up over his thigh next to his hips. 

“Just relax…”

An open-mouthed uncontrolled moan escaped her then. “Katsuki~” 

She felt her hips buck back into his hand, letting him know that he had her completely wrapped around his finger, just as figuratively as it was literal.

“That’s right…” He spoke softly, maintaining the aura of safety, wanting to keep her exactly like that, all soft and sweet and vulnerable for him. “You just focus on me, babe.” 

He placed a tender kiss to her jaw, contrasted with how he now rubbed vigorously onto her swollen bud, feeling her tremble, quake at his hands. 

He knew he had her right where he wanted her, chasing that high he was giving her, her legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his torso, reminding him of his own arousal, but he couldn’t pay himself any mind. 

Right now all he needed to worry about was sealing the deal.

An excited jumpy hitched breath left her lips, precious as it was sweet, chest rising above the bed and pressing against his own in such a soft expression of gratitude, just as her legs squeezed tightly around his waist, keeping him close, pussy clenching around his fingers so tight he could only dream of what it would feel like wrapped around his cock, as her eyelids started to flutter, squishing to a close, but not before he saw her eyes cross, reaching towards the light, a light he ignited for her.

She was left a panting mess, her walls fluttering around his digits, happily sucking on them as she spilled.

But she wasn’t left blissed out for long as she hurriedly scurried back to herself, hands covering her face as she hung her head in embarrassment, feeling that dreadful feeling wash over her, that draining shame feeling like death’s embrace. 

“I’m sorry.” She squealed, words muffled beneath the cover of her hands.

His brows scrunched as he perceived her, trying to spot her face from beneath what shield she’d made with her hands.

“I- I made a mess…” 

It sounded as though she were about to cry, so ashamed her body began to shake, her thighs pressed together, hiding where she cocooned herself in the bed in front of him.

His hand trailed soft fingers up her forearm to wrap around her wrist, gently prying her hand away from her face. 

He sighed, heart clenching at the sight of her glossy shameful eyes. 

“You’re so fucking adorable…” 

There was a slight chuckle attached to the statement, his lips kissing her temple before they brushed against the shell of her ear. 

“Why don’t you make a mess on my tongue next?”

The question left her shell-choked, her lip quivering at the promise of his mouth kissing her down there in the same manor he kissed her lips: brutally, passionately, with teeth. 

“M-Mn-No…” She spoke bashfully, still anxious.

Too cute for her own good.

His hand, the one soaked with her essence, ascended to his face, his fingers disappearing into his mouth, lips enclosing around them as he sucked the juices clean off, giving a groan at her taste as well as her shocked but curious expression, smirking once he let his finger go with a kiss.

His hands moved front and centre, beginning to tamper with the buttons to her uniform. 

“You’re safe with me.” He repeated, knowing it was something she needed to hear, especially as he began opening button after button, revealing her precious pearly-white bralette, where under was found glory in the shape of soft warm pillows. “Trust me.” 

He shoved her shirt off her shoulders, bringing it out of her reach, not allowing her the freedom of covering herself if she were to change her mind and snatch it back from his hands. 

She hummed in unease as though to ask if he had to go any further, to which he answered by kissing her forehead, a gesture that made a shiver run up her spine, unsure if it was of pleasure or something more eerie. 

His finger running, dancing around to her back, tickling the skin where her bra was held together. 

He felt her tense up, but ignored it and continued in his quest, pinching the clasp and taking hold of the straps to pull the annoying thing off, leaving her bare and beautiful.

Taking a second to admire her as her nipples perked at once at the hands of her embarrassment, he held back the urge to pinch, forcing himself to be soft, soft and sweet and safe, something he needed to remind himself of. 

Hands moving carefully to hold one of the mounds, a careful squeeze followed by a careful rub of the nipple between his thumb and index finger.

“Lay back down.” His voice was so warm, so warm it left her perplexed, unable to tell that the words shaped a demand as he placed one large hot hand in the space between her breasts, adding slight pressure to ease her back down into the bed, all the while her curious yet terror-wide watery eyes looked up at him, falling prey to his dominant crimson ones. 

His head followed hers, lips pressing one soft kiss to her wet ones.

There is something about being bare in front of someone fully dressed. Something so dominating, something so frightening. But, surely the fact that he looked at her as though she were the world made everything safer, surely it evened the scales, surely… she wasn’t completely powerless.

“Let me prove just how much I love you.”

He could feel how terribly fast her heart was beating as he kissed down her neck, over her collar bone, careful to not bite too harshly, giving into simply nibbling or grazing his teeth, fighting the urge to mark her up so prettily. 

Mouth moving to suck at the exposed sensitive skin of her tits, forgetting himself as he made to grind the protruding nib between his teeth, being met with a squeal from the girl beneath him, her hands instinctively pushing at his shoulders. 

But again, her racing heartbeat and impulsive struggles were subdued, Bakugo making to squeeze her cheeks between his fingers, squishing her plump bloated reddened lips together, whispering upon them as he leaned in close. 

“Don’t worry, babe, you know I won’t hurt you.” 

She nodded, but still he felt her shiver, heard the tremor in her breathing, the soft sniffles she couldn’t keep at bay, just as pathetic as they were adorable and mouthwatering for him to hear.

Once he reassured himself she wasn’t about to roll out of bed and stagger towards the bathroom, running like a spooked hare, he placed a chaste kiss to the side of her mouth before peppering a dozen more down her neck, over the nipples he’d played with, going further down and lower and lower until he was all the way down to kissing the space found just beneath her bellybutton, his ears shifting to listen to how the bed creaked upon her shuffling, yet those anxious movements where seized when his hefty arms wrapped beneath her thighs, pulling her all snug and personal, lining her up perfectly with his face, all for him to see what gorgeous mess he’d made of her, all glistening and blushed with arousal. 

He couldn’t wait any longer to give her a taste, feel her melt on his tongue, hear her moan as he buried his face into her.

He flicked a light kitty-lick over her budding clit, felt her quake in his arms, looking up yet still down at her where he couldn’t quite place what emotion terrorised her face the most, whether it was mostly anxiety, discomfort, shame, embarrassment or pleasure. 

It didn’t discourage him though as he made the same movement again, only now twirling his warm textured tongue around the pearl, swirling around it, circling it like a shark, before his entire mouth enclosed it, devoured it, sucked on it, his tongue placed flat on top of it as he dragged it over the sensitivity again and again, sucking fervently, feeling her panic at the intrusive pleasure, yet being held steady in his arms with no way of getting away.

He let up, letting go with a wet pop before running his tongue deeply down the slit, plunging into her weeping hole where it wormed its way inside. 

She wiggled as his nose bumped into her ravaged clit, all sensitive with tender swelling.

She was all shaky breaths, no sound too loud, no sound too brazen or wanton. 

He needed to change that. 

He planned to go slow, but had wanted it to be a surprise, and so, instead of lightly grazing his teeth over the silken bud he gave into biting down on it, gnawing it lightly between the rows of his teeth.

She shrieked, hands pushed with force against his head to get him off as she climbed higher up on the bed, away from him, yet the movement was soon stilled, or rather reversed with the strength of Bakugo’s arms coiled around her thighs, dragging her back to meet his hungry mouth. 

“Don’t move.” 

Carmine eyes stared up at her from down in between herself, and she felt her knees go weak as they shook at the terrifying growl that accompanied his threat. 

“Just… trust me.” 

She didn’t. 

She didn’t trust him, she feared him, feared his marred and mauled hands, those scars running up over the great juicy muscles of his arms, those deadly arms themselves, capable of both withstanding and giving destruction, proof that he can and has survived far greater than what she could ever hope, proof that she was no match, no equal. 

She didn’t trust him, she feared him, feared how his thumb now rubbed over her clit, creating such godsend friction that had her unraveling, melting into his mouth, and that mouth itself, that tongue, those teeth, how they devoured her for everything she was worth. 

She didn’t trust him, but she found... falling suited her, and chasing the fires had unknowingly become a feeling she rather cherished than feared, a little less like dying, and more like... coming home.

By the time she came to, reeled back into reality, yet still remaining far away, succumbed by bliss, her eyes were opium-blown as she blinked dumbly, not realizing how Bakugo had placed himself on her side, eyes full of awe as he watched her, leg tangled with legs, heart to heart, hand held lazily on her hip, drawing small patterns up and down her side, watching her flushed face drowse into the pillow until those pretty chaste eyes met his again.

His boxers were sticky. 

She’d been too busy, too distracted with the feeling of his lips and tongue and teeth abusing what found between her legs to notice how he’d been humping the mattress while eating her out as though he were starved and crazed and feral with lust. And even though she felt him groan and growl, the reverberations that tremored at the roughness of his gruff timber was enough to make her eyes cross and forget, even forgive them from ever happening.

“How about making a mess on my cock next time?” 

His hand stroked her cheek after pulling the covers up to drape her naked body that now had begun to shiver in the crash of coming down. The thoughtful action a stark contrast to his cocky suggestive tone, eyes glinting wickedly at the little lamb he’d lured into and onto his wolf fangs, still tasting her essence on his tongue, watching as those skittish brows erupted into that beautiful panic that somehow resembled hope as she looked at him wide-eyed, smitten with plead and all things soft. 

“I’m joking…” 

He gave a smile, soft but in a different way, admiring what was his. 

“Or, not really… but whenever you want, whenever you’re ready.” 

The thumb stroked over her cheek once again, before his lips pressed a long firm kiss to her forehead, hinting for her to nuzzle into his neck, where his smell had become like ritual, something she wasn’t meant to go on without for too long.

She thought she’d made it clear she wasn’t ready for any of this. What makes the next step any different? Still, with the defeatist thought, she did like the defeatist she was, timid hands coming to hold onto Bakugo’s fire-hot skin, slotting herself tight against his body. 

She didn’t trust him, but she trusted his love, she trusted his lust, she trusted he would never let her go, and that perhaps those arms of his weren’t too bad. Perhaps if she thought of how safe she was she could more or less forget or rather forgive that they were there to keep her trapped, perhaps if she spent enough time believing she was kept safe by him, then she’d forget all the reason as to why being trapped with him was the farthest thing from safe.

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

[absurdthirst]

The Spaniard {Oberyn x F!Reader x Tovar}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3900 

Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), vaginal sex, cum play, cum eating, threesome activities

Comments: I truly hope this doesn’t disappoint. Oberyn and Tovar? Sign me the fuck up. Part 1 of The Spaniard Series

A/N: Edited for continuity/errors

A subtle shift of weight beside you and a hand placed on the thin skirts of your dress tears your attention away from the man across the hall. Turning you find the dark hues of your lover’s eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Is that the one you spoke so eagerly of?” He leans over to whisper in your ear as his own eyes shifting to a table where the man sets with his companions, ignoring the banter and eating as if it were not a celebration but his last meal.

You hum, your own eyes following his as you observe the rough manners of the man, his coarseness not detracting from the growing desire in the pit of your stomach. Oberyn’s fingers curl around your thigh, squeezing gently in silent approval before turning back to Lord Havern.

“The menacing soldier at that table.” A graceful finger points towards the man as Oberyn made his query. “Spaniard I presume, or have you lured a Dornishman into your service?” His humored tone speaks of that unlikelihood. The Dornish love their country and very rarely sought a life elsewhere.

“Tovar.” Lord Havern looks up and then immediately dismisses the man as unimportant as he shovels another piece of pigeon pie into his mouth. “Sellsword. I bought his services for the campaign, he will be moving on.”

“A shame, my Lord,” You pluck a choice piece of meat from your plate and offer it to Oberyn. His eyebrow arches in silent question as he takes the offering between his lips. You rarely enjoy talking to the boorish Lord. “He was one to distinguish himself on the battlefield. A fearsome opponent from the way that he went through the opposing ranks.”

Oberyn smirks at the slightly annoyed tone in your voice at the Lord’s treatment of those that served under his banner. If it weren’t for the treaty Dorne had with this neighboring territory, he wouldn’t be here. Dornish troops would not be feasting alongside his men, and the Red Viper would most definitely not be sitting at the table with him.

“What caught your eye, my dear?” Oberyn asks as he watches the man. He hadn’t missed the way that the Spaniard’s eyes had roamed over your form. He is used to it, you are beautiful, and every man in this hall would kill to be allowed the privilege of touching you. But this one had captured your attention from where you had observed the battle today.

“It’s a contrast, my love.” Your lips quirk up as you pop a berry in your mouth, slowly savoring the burst of flavor on your tongue. “Your grace and fluidity on a field of combat is like a dance. He is brash, harsh, unpredictable. Yet still poetry in motion. He reminds me of the tales of the bullfighters in Spain.”

His eyes leave the man to look at you briefly before returning back to the man in question. He is pleasing to look at. Even with a fierce scowl that rests on his face, the scar that marred his left brow, this mercenary named Tovar was handsome. He chuckles to himself at the similarities in their features. You certainly have a type that you stuck with when it comes to your choice in men.

Leaning over, he presses his lips below your ear before murmuring. “And you wish this man to come between your thighs? To have him pleasure you tonight?”

You nod, turning and kissing him gently. “Do you wish to share tonight, my love?”

He glances back and smirks when he notices the dark eyes of the Spaniard pointed towards the Lord’s table once more before he looks back down at his meal, shoveling more food into his mouth. “You always know my answer when it comes to pleasure, sunflower.”

****

Tovar shifted back from the table as you slip into his lap. His eyebrows lowers as his mouth pulls down into a fierce scowl, one meant to scare you away.

“What are you doing, amiga?” He growls, letting his arms drop to his sides as he glares at you.

You loop your arms around his neck even as he leans back. Leaning into him, making sure to press your ass just a bit deeper against his crotch,  you give him a sultry look.

“You are very enticing.” You bluntly tell him. “I think you would be as fearsome in bed as you were on the battlefield.”

Tovar grunts, shifting underneath you at your bold words. His eyes slide from your face to the Lord’s table where Oberyn has his gaze trained on the pair of you. You knew what look is on the Prince’s face. But someone who is unaware it is lust that makes his strong jaw clench would tread warily.

“I do not wish to overstep my place, hermosa.” The rough cadence of his voice and the firm bulge that is starting to form under your ass, tells you that the Spaniard is interested.

“The Prince knows how to share, you won’t be overstepping.” You whisper as you tug on the hair at the nape of his neck. “His only request is if everyone is willing, that he joins. If not, that he can watch.” You lean in and lick at the bottom of the ragged scar beneath his eye. “Are you amenable to that?” You hum quietly.

Tovar’s body tightens even further underneath you. His breathing ragged. “I am a sellsword, you fuck a Prince. Why do you want me?” His tone is questioning, as if he truly did not see the appeal.

“I saw the way you fight and well….I was dripping watching the way you sliced your path through the enemy. You are rough and rugged while the prince is more refined, both of you poetic yet deadly. I want to see how you move while inside of me and Oberyn wants to watch.” You tell him.

He groans quietly, punched out as if you had hit him. You feel the way that his hips shifted up, his cock throbbing beneath you. His hands come up to slowly graze up your thighs.

“Do you wish to join us in our chambers and fuck me? A hero deserves more than a paltry feast. I can think of nothing more fitting than a tight cunt to fuck away your lingering adrenaline.” You smirk as you hear him moan. “What do you say ‘amigo’?”

His fingers tighten on your thighs as he gives you a very subtly half nod, his eyes dark and lusty.

You turn your head to see Oberyn’s eyebrow raise in question. You wink at him and nod, the Prince of Dorne quickly leaning over and murmuring to Lord Havern and standing, making his way towards the corridor.

****

Taking Tovar by the hand you guide him through the stone hallways. You hear the subtle shifting of his armor as he walks behind you. Stopping when Oberyn appears in front of you from behind a pillar and wraps his arm around your waist. Pulling you in for a passionate kiss as his free hand cups your face.

His tongue dives into your mouth and explores for a moment before pulling back to peck your lips again. Dark hewn eyes shift behind you to where Tovar is standing awkwardly. “He said yes, sunflower?” His question holds a bit of ironic amusement, as if assured of the answer.

“Yes, my Prince.”

“Excellent.” He addresses Tovar as he holds you close and smacks your ass playfully. “She has spoken of nothing else but you all day. She is desperate to ride your cock and I can see why.” Oberyn raises one eyebrow as he looks Tovar up and down, inspecting him.

His glare still present, is confused, as he stares at the Prince. As if trying to figure out if there is some trickery to be had. Shuffling his weight between his feet as he tries to think of what to say.

Oberyn gives him a questioning look. “My friend, do you not indulge in your fellow sellswords during your travels?”

Tovar’s reply is too low to hear, his eyes shifting away from the two of you. Obviously unused to such things being discussed so openly.

“It is a simple question.” Oberyn tuts. “Yes or no? Do you wish to only have my sunflower’s sweet cunt, or are you open to the idea of being fucked by the Prince of Dorne?”

Your hand comes up to lay on Oberyn’s chest, drawing his attention back to you. “My love, why don’t we discuss the details of our liaison in the privacy of our rooms. Surely our guest would like to luxuriate in a hot bath before we begin.” You offer, seeing Tovar’s frame relax from the corner of your eye.

Oberyn turns back to Tovar. “Apologies, where are my manners?” He gives you a small squeeze before turning you and guiding you back towards Tovar. “I tend to be impatient when it comes to pleasures of the flesh. Let us go to my chambers. There should be a bath already waiting.”

Tovar’s eyes dart between the two of you as he gives a stiff nod. You can see the curiosity swimming in the depths of his eyes.

****

When the doors opened to your chambers, the steam is already rising up from water in the sunken tub in the middle of the room. The air is filled with the pleasant scent of the perfumed water and the flower petals that float on top of the water. Fat waxy candles lined the edge of the tub that is large enough to easily fit four people.

Turning to the mercenary, you see his eyes roam over the casual luxury to be found in your chambers. To a man who lives from job to job by selling his sword, it must seem obscene. Reaching for the thick leather buckle of his armor, you shush him as he tenses.

“Relax, my warrior.” You croon. “Let me serve you.”

Your nimble fingers quickly unbuckling and unlacing the leathers that protect his body. Well acquainted with the work from helping Oberyn, you set aside the padded material until he stand before you in boots, breeches and a worn undershirt that is threadbare.

He swallows harshly and nods when you silently ask for permission to remove those layers as well. You could see the way that his eyes are lust blown, rather than the amber hues you saw in the dining hall, they are now black as obsidian.

Oberyn pours a goblet of wine from a carafe that sits on a nearby table, settling himself on a chaise lounge as you strip the Spaniard down to his bare skin. His cock is already curling up toward his belly, bobbing proudly as you pull his breeches down his leg. You hear the Prince’s grunt of approval, smiling as you look up at the other man from your knees.

“His cock is beautiful, my love.” You moan, hands running up his thighs as he hisses in pleasure at your fingernails raking lightly across his skin.

“It is, I should think he will fill you nicely.” Oberyn purrs. “You will look magnificent bouncing on it.”

Tovar twitches underneath your palm as it skims over his cock. Standing, you pull at the simple straple of your dress, releasing the thin material and letting it pool at your feet.

“Come, let me bathe you.” You encourage him, hearing the low rumble in his chest as you take his hand and pull him into the hot water.

Tovar’s eyes close and he groans loudly, the heat and steam of the water enveloping him. His eyes drift open after a long minute turning as he looks over at Oberyn, languidly sprawled out, sipping from his goblet. “Are you not joining us?” He asks, his brow furrowed when he looks back at you in confusion.

“He seems eager, my love.” Oberyn gives Tovar a small shake of his head, taking a sip of wine before answering. “I bathed after the battle, this is your time to enjoy my sunflower’s attention.”

Your hands distract Tovar, the perfumed soap that you had brought from Dorne is traveling up his back and starts roaming over the ridged expanse of skin. Your lips being trailing over the soapy skin, listening to him groan under your hands.

By the time that you have moved around his body, he is quaking under your touch. Raggedly gasping as you reach down and gasp his cock in your hand. Snapping, his hands shot out from where they are fisted at his sides and grabs your arms. Hauling you up against his chest, his mouth slanted harshly over yours.

His kiss is bruising, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip as his hand reach up to pry your jaw open for his tongue. Where the Prince coaxes, Tovar demands. His touch rougher, yet still makes the heat pool in your cunt. He licks into your mouth as he moves you towards the edge of the tub. Trapping you against the stone walls of the bath and grinding his cock against the softness of your belly.

His tongue roughly sweeps against yours, making you moan into his mouth. Hand moving over to paw at your breast, his calloused fingers pinches a nipple roughly and smirking against your lips when you gasp.

“You want me to fuck you, hermosa?” Tovar growls as his mouth breaks off from yours, biting at your jaw. “Fill your cunt with my cock while your Prince watches?”

“Yes!” Eagerly nodding and pushing the Spaniard back, you move past him, dragging him towards the steps leading out of the tub.

Water drips on the stone floor as you dry him off. Licking up the length of his cock as you rise and making him curse loudly as his cock twitches. His hands grope everywhere he could reach, pulling and pinching at your curves. Placing your hand on his sternum, you push him back, making him fall onto the silken sheets, coming up onto his elbows as you straddle him.

Oberyn moves quietly, slipping from the chaise to perch on the edge of bed after setting down the goblet. His own shirt has been removed and the smooth, tanned expanse of his chest rises unevenly as he watches.

Tovar's fingers dig into your waist, dragging your cunt along his length trapped beneath you. The low growl and the fierce look in his eyes thrilling as you roll your hips over him. “Give your Prince his show.” He demands.

Looking over at Oberyn you moan as he was palming his cock through the soft linen trousers he wears. His own dark eyes are hot as he nods at you, urging you to take you pleasure.

Lifting to your knees, you grasp Tovar’s cock and hold it steady as you sink down on him slowly. Tilting your head back and hissing at the stretch of him, the way that his bruising grip intensifies as you take him into your body.

Oberyn hums in approval when your ass rests flush on Tovar’s thighs. Tovar glances over to see the Prince lifting off the bed to slide his pants off, his own cock stiff and leaking as he slides back onto the bed.

“One thing.” Oberyn watches as Tovar struggles to keep his eyes on his face, smirking as he knows your cunt must be clenching tightly around him. “You cannot cum in her. Only I can breed her. You can paint her body, but only I can paint her womb.”  

You moan and shift your hips at Oberyn’s words, making Tovar grit his teeth and curse as he nods. “Sí, yes, I-fuck, I won’t.”

Reassured of his word, Oberyn settles his own hands on your hips and urges you forward. “Ride your warrior, sweet sunflower. Give him the reward he deserves for his prowess on the battlefield.”

At his command, you start riding the Spaniard, watching his mouth fall open as you rise and fall on his cock. Grunting as you slam down on him before circling your hips around and lifting again.

Oberyn’s cock is pressing against your back as he watches from over your shoulder. A hand slipping from your waist to press on your stomach, feeling the other man’s cock deep inside your body.

“Is he what you wished, my love?” Oberyn coos. “He is pressed deep inside your cunt. I feel how he moves.”

You and Tovar both groan at the silky words. Nodding and letting your head fall back against your lover’s shoulder as Tovar’s hands start to knead and paw at your breasts.

You lift up and Oberyn stops you from sinking down again. Reaching between you and the Spanaird’s bodies to grasp the base of the cock you were on. “She’s soaked this divine cock.” Oberyn rumbles. “Look at how wet your cock has made her.”

Tovar moans as you feel Oberyn pump the base of his cock. The other man shivers beneath you. His hand drifts lower and the Spaniard bites down on his lower lip and keens as Oberyn rolls the soft sack beneath his cock in his hand.

“It has been awhile since you have known pleasure from the weight.” Oberyn smirks. “It should be a beautiful mess when you paint her with your cum”

Tovar’s hips jerk up and he bites out another curse. “Mierda.” 

“Lover, don’t tease.” You chide.

“I am not teasing, I am merely anticipating watching him in the throes of completion. He will look beautifully wrecked.” Oberyn tuts and shuffles to the side and his hand wet with your arousal wrapped around his cock.

Tovar’s eyes drink in the sight of the Prince’s cock. His own twitching deep inside you cunt. “Fuck her throat.” He rasps out, thrusting up into you.

Oberyn’s eyebrow arches in surprise as he look at you. “Sunflower?”

You smile and rake your nails down the Spaniard’s chest, making him grunt and thrust up into you again. “Our warrior has spoken, my love. Let him see how you would fuck his throat if he allowed it.”

He moans as he guides your head down to his cock. From the corner of your eye you see the other man watching as the Prince’s cock disappeared down your throat. You feel him twitch inside you again, making your lips pull into a grin. It seemed he is interested in the idea.

You moan and pull off of your lover’s cock before deep throating him again. Oberyn reaches for the other man’s head, thick fingers curling into his dark locks as his hips start moving forward. Fucking your throat with abandon as his gaze goes back at forth between you and the Spaniard.

Gripping your breasts harshly, Tovar starts thrusting up into your cunt, making you gasp around Oberyn’s length. His breathing becoming harsh pants as the Prince tugs on his hair.

“Fuck her harder.”

Tovar moans and obeys, moving a hand back down to your waist to start pulling you down harder against him. The other reaches for Oberyn, brushing across the other man’s hip before curling around his ass and pulling him forward, driving him deeper into your mouth.

It is amazing. The rough, hard thrusts of the man beneath you, his cock driving up to push against your back wall. Pain and pleasure mingling together and making you gasp and moan around the cock hitting the back of your throat. You mewl when they synchronize their thrusts. Each one drives into you at the same time and makes you shudder. Your cunt starts to spasm and tighten as you warble around Oberyn’s cock when your orgasm slams into you.

Tovar gasps and roughly lifting you off of him, pushing you back so that his cock could nestle between the lips of your cunt as he throbs. Grunting as thick white ropes of cum spurt out of his cock. Splattering on your stomach and breasts as he thrusts up and moans out your name.

Oberyn pulls his cock out of your mouth and leans down, capturing one cum covered nippled in his mouth and sighing out in pleasure as he tastes the other man’s pleasure. When he has had his fill, he lifts back up, dragging his cock through the mess that Tovar had painted on your chest, covering the tip with the Spaniard’s seed.

“You wish to taste my love?” He purrs. “He tastes sharp and salty.”

When you nod, Oberyn pushes his cock back into your mouth as you hold your tongue out eagerly. Groaning at the taste of his release, you eagerly work to lick every bit of the cum off your lover’s cock. Tovar pants at the sight as he watches below you. His own hand leaving your waist to drag through the dripping mess as he relaxes against the sheets. Before moving down to rub harsh circles against your clit.

Trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, his thumb pressing against your clit quickly makes the pleasure spike through your body again as Oberyn’s hips started to stutter. Oberyn groans as his cock starts twitching in your mouth, his seed flooding your mouth as he grips Tovar’s hair hard enough to make him hiss.

When he has milked every last drop into your waiting mouth, Oberyn pulls back with a lazy smile. A hand cupping your cheek affectionately as you open your mouth to show him the sticky seed gathered on your tongue.

Before you can close your mouth, Tovar grabs your chin and lunges up, kissing you. Licking into your mouth and tasting Oberyn’s cum directly off your tongue. Pulling back, he hums and his eyes flicker up to Oberyn. “Amigo, no wonder your sunflower enjoyed gagging on your cock.” He rumbles. “I find myself curious to sample it as well.”

Oberyn smirks as he leans down and thrusts his tongue into the Spaniards mouth. You watch as Tovar’s eyes widen before his mouth opens wider and his own tongue darts out to eagerly lick into the Prince’s mouth as well. You felt his cock twitch against your cunt as they kiss and you whimper in pleasure at the feel of it.

Pulling back, Oberyn gracefully falls onto the silk sheets of the bed and tugs you over to where you are sprawled on top of both men.

“My dear warrior, if you remain in our company, that can certainly be arraigned.” Oberyn’s fingers trailed over your skin to the other man’s. “What do you think, my love? Would you like to keep him?”

You look over at the fierce Spaniard and smile. “I think he would fit right in with our lifestyle and in Dorne.”

Tovar’s eyes widen as he realizes what you are offering him. “I have never...indulged in another man.” He confesses quietly. “I have know of others in my company taking their pleasure or offering warmth when the weather turned cold, but I have not….”

Oberyn turn on his side and braces his head on one hand. “If you are willing, there are so many pleasures to be had. We can teach you and show you things you would never find selling your sword to lords who do not appreciate you beyond that skills.”

His other hand trails over your curves as he speaks. His eyes watching the Spaniard carefully. He sees the hunger in the other man’s eyes. His fingers trailing down your body before reaching over and grasping the hardening cock of the other man. Tovar groans and pushes up into the touch.

His words are directed towards you as he pumps the other man’s cock. “Kiss him, my love.”

You eagerly comply with your Prince’s demand as your Spaniard’s hand grips the back of your neck and drags your mouth down to his, smothering his moan.

MasterList

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[lovewillthaw-j]

Elsa powers appreciation (part 1 of 3) - Creating things from ice/snow

Happy 7th Anniversary, Frozen (1)! 

I’ve wanted to do this post for a long time. This post is entirely original, I have not read posts like this or browsed the Frozen wiki (I am assuming there’s an entry there on Elsa’s powers)

I’ve written down every single occurrence of Elsa’s powers in the 2 movies and 2 shorts and analyzed that long list in order to create this post. I won’t bore you with that list unless you want to see it.

I believe that we can categorize Elsa’s powers into 3 main groups: 1. Creating things from ice/snow; 2. Freezing (and the opposite, melting) and 3. Movement/kinetic energy (and the opposite, not moving in situations where movement is expected) I will post 3 separate posts so as to keep each post to a readable length.

Creating things from ice/snow

- with 2 exceptions, the first being light (as in, glowing, bright light). The second is her dresses which start as ice, but become cloth permanently. Let’s get started!

1. Small objects

From L to R: small snowball, ice bowtie for Olaf, ice table, snow teddy bear

2. Small but very intricate objects

The first 3 are cake toppers from Frozen Fever for Anna’s birthday. Notably, Elsa makes each of them in milliseconds, she is that fast! Note the beautiful detail. I have always wanted to own a figurine of #2. In the rightmost pic, is the ice sextant that she made for the little girl. Some in the fandom believe that this is a fully functional sextant with moving parts, signifying that our Queen has mechanical knowledge of the workings and tiny parts of a nautical sextant! I believe so!

3. HUGE structures

1st row: the beautiful ice staircase that she makes. She was testing out her powers for the first time to make something so big and beautiful, and the staircase starts as snow and as she steps on it, re-forms into beautiful chiseled ice. Amazingly she does this as she is running, her powers are just so fast! Next to the stairs are 2 images of the ice castle, which needs no explanation - it is HUGE, has multiple stories, inner chandeliers and fountains, stairs, doors etc

2nd row: the ice “ramp” she makes to try to run over the crashing waves of the Dark Sea. Next to it: the humongous ice wall she (and Nokk) made to stop the tsunami tidal wave from destroying the castle. This could arguably be larger than the ice castle? Again, the speed with which she creates the “ramp” and the wall is breathtaking. She also demonstrates that she can dissolve and remove what she has created when she does that to the ice wall.

4. Light

Elsa’s magic is always accompanied by bright light, but sometimes her icy creations stay lit up. On the leftmost, is the icy trail she left as the royal family galloped to the Trolls. This trail led to Kristoff finding the trolls! Fate. 

Secondly, we have the trail “markings” that she made to guide everybody back home after finding Olaf in OFA. In OFA we also have the giant ice Christmas tree, which glows from its own core. This tree also sends a burst of light into the surrounding trees and they glow with tiny crystals of light, which some have said is a foreshadowing of Frozen 2′s ice crystals. 

In the last screencap, we have the scene in the forest where the girls discover and acknowledge their Northuldran roots. (Director Chris Buck said that the glowing light comes from Elsa in the ITU documentary - I used to think it was Gale but if Buck said it, it’s canon)

5. Living creations

One of Elsa’s most amazing, if not THE most amazing of her powers, is her ability to create sentient life! Think about it! Arendelle has no need for an army since she can make an army of Marshmallows! On a more thought provoking note, since she brought Olaf back to life because “water has memory”, can she create facsimiles of humans based on the same principle? Can she make copies of herself to do menial tasks?

a. Olaf

I have no screencaps for Olaf, because, who needs them? Haha. What can Olaf do? Let’s see - he has a personality, a sense of humour, intelligence, a soul, musical ability, the ability to separate and control his parts independently and re-form his parts together, his wooden arms can move (how does THAT work?) and he has a “digestive” system of sorts! Olaf can also make his ice glow slightly (he does this in his recap of F1 when acting out the part about Anna freezing to death) and he can breathe out an icy breath (in the same scene).

b. Marshmallow

As an entity independent from Elsa, I’m amazed that Marshmallow can control his own form, in a “Hulk”-like way. When he is angered or threatened, he is able to grow 1) spikes from his knees (compare 1st and 2nd screencaps) and 2) sharp teeth and spikes from his back! The last screencap shows that he can retract the teeth and spikes at will too! 

I didn’t have a screencap for it, but he can also roar a powerful icy breath (which he does at Kristoff and Anna)

c. Snowgies

The snowgies are amazingly able to work as a team. Look on the left - they have formed a “dome” and a number of them have “shot” themselves outwards like fireworks. And before this, they had been teaming up to oppose Kristoff and try to steal the cake. On the right, they are amazingly able to SPELL. Think about it! Even Olaf can’t spell at this point and these snowgies are like 5 seconds old!

6. Dress transformations

If we break it down, during Let It Go, Elsa is able to transform existing cloth (her coronation gown) into a different color and fabric entirely. Next, she forms a cape out of ice - but as I alluded to earlier, the icy cape turns into cloth. This is pretty mind boggling. We’re still not done with the cape - she makes snowflakes fly onto the cape and become incorporated into the cape. 

In Frozen Fever - Elsa transforms her blue gown into a green gown. She then does something PRETTY amazing - she takes Stargazer lilies from the vase and incorporates them into her cape! She has just turned an organic flower into fabric! (Some have wondered if she could do this to her enemies!! Turn them into “paintings”!!) 

For Anna’s dress - she changes the color of the sunflowers on Anna’s skirt and bolero from a dull yellow to a bright golden. She also causes 1 sunflower from the vase to fly and attach itself to Anna’s donut hair. (Elsa herself has affixed 1 lily to the right side of her hair) Note also that she is exhibiting her “kinetic” powers (telekinesis) here by making the flowers fly.

I’m not counting the Ahtohallan dress transformation here as I think that one is purely Ahtohallan magic.

7. Extracting memories from water

This power was introduced in Frozen 2 and some believe it is the 5th spirit’s power. From left to right: memories from Gale’s tornado that move and emit sound; stationary ice statues, also extracted from Gale’s tornado; the horrifying image of the parents at the point of their death - extracted from water in the ship and lastly, an enormous number of memories from Ahtohallan, which move and talk.

8. Special mention - the horse “bridle” and “reins” she uses to tame the Nokk

I have separated this from the rest because I find it amazing. Prior to this, she has never made something out of ice that is so flexible and strong. The bridle magically affixes itself to the Nokk despite his thrashing about; the reins are flexible and yet strong enough to bear her whole weight. (Arguably - she is also using some of her kinetic powers here to move her body - wait for post #3) 

I like to think that she’s almost like Peter Parker AKA Spider-man! She can shoot out flexible, sticky “string” and can swing from it!

[freddiesaysalright]

Just Like a Woman - Part 10

A Roger Taylor x Reader Story

Summary: You and Roger were once in love when you were young. Only, he went on to be a rock star, and you went on to be a lawyer. Now, quite against your will, you’re representing him in his divorce.

Word Count: 4.3k

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A/N: Okay so I didn’t proofread the smutty part of this I’m sorry but I get lazy, y’know? I hope you still enjoy. Just ignore any typos lol

Warning(s): Smut in this chapter! It’s romantic and stuff ;)

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9

Part 10 here we go!!!

Your jaw dropped as you watched Roger walk up to the stand and take his oath. When had he agreed to testify? And for the defense? Was he really so desperate to have his say that he would undermine the whole case? You shot daggers at him with your eyes.

“Mr. Taylor,” Glen began. “Can you tell us a bit about what your father was like?”

���Objection!” you interjected. “Relevance.”

Judge Walsh gave Glen an annoyed look.

“You’ll see what I’m getting at, your honor,” he said. 

“Speed it up,” Judge Walsh instructed. “Or I will hold that objection sustained.”

Glen looked back at Roger.

“Mr. Taylor, your father was an abusive man, was he not?” Glen asked.

“Yeah, but I don’t see what that has to do with Dominique’s case,” Roger returned, frowning.

“I think it could have everything to do with her case,” Glen retorted. “You and your ex-wife, did you ever fight?”

“Sure we did,” Roger said. “Like any other couple, we had our moments.”

“Ever get physical?” Glen asked.

“What?!” Roger cried.

At the same time you stood up and repeated, “Objection! Move to strike!”

“Overruled,” Judge Walsh said emphatically. “Counsel, you can’t object to questions only because you don’t like them!”

“Your honor, I want it on record that I object to this witness, I object to this line of questioning, and I object to opposing counsel’s being a complete and unmitigated ass!”

“Counsel!” he scolded, banging his gavel. “Sit down and let Mr. Harrington finish! If you raise one more objection today I will hold you in contempt, do you understand me?”

Cheeks red with anger and hatred, you scowled at him. Bill forced you back to your seat. You folded your arms across your chest and once again glared at Roger, hoping he could feel the heat of your rage.

“To answer your question,” Roger began again. “No, any disagreements between Dominique and myself have always been resolved with words.”

“Until you had to bring lawyers in,” Glen remarked.

“That’s not fair,” Roger said. “When it comes to issues of money -”

“And the cheating?” Glen pointed out.

“I cheated,” Roger admitted. “Dominique was faithful until that day she went on this date. But at that point, our marriage was effectively over.”

“You didn’t like that, did you?” Glen asked. “The fact that she had a date?”

“Who would?” Roger replied. “It was a pretty harsh reminder that my marriage was done.”

“Did it make you angry?” Glen pressed.

“Yeah, a bit,” Roger said, rolling his eyes.

You squeezed yours shut. If the jury didn’t think Roger was taking this seriously, it would look bad. You saw where this was going, and you knew it would only make him angrier.

“Angry enough to behave like the late Mr. Taylor?” Glen asked.

Roger stiffened. His jaw clenched. You could hardly look at him. You saw the hurt and fury slowly overtake his body. But he was remaining impressively calm. He took a deep breath and then looked icily at Glen.

“No,” he said.

You could tell how much will power it was taking for him not to spit at Glen in that moment. You felt the same. Angry as you were with Roger for doing this, you hated Glen right now more than his client. He turned and looked at you, a slimy smile on his face.

“Your witness,” he said.

Bill looked at  you questioningly. You composed yourself and nodded, letting him know you had this. You stood up.

“Mr. Taylor, have you ever once put your hands on your wife or any woman?”

“Never,” he said.

“No further questions.”

You sat back down. 

After Roger’s testimony, you were released for lunch. The trial would continue the following day. You and Bill stormed out of the courtroom, each on one side of Dominique. You didn’t bother to wait for Roger, but he jogged up to you anyway. You retreated into a chamber down the corridor.

“I can’t believe you!” you shouted at Roger as you slammed the door behind the group. “I told you yesterday that you aren’t a relevant witness! Why would you agree to testify for the opposing side?!”

“I wanted an opportunity to stand up for Dom, I didn’t know he was going to ask me all that!” Roger shot back.

“Do you realize what you’ve done?!” you cried. “All the jury needs is a little bit of doubt to find him not guilty, and you’ve just given it to them!”

“Oh, please, my alibi is totally secure,” he returned.

“We wouldn’t have to even worry about it if you didn’t get your dumbass on that stand in the first place!” you almost shrieked, completely exasperated. “You’ve hurt us, Roger, you could at least be sorry for it!”

“You’re the one who wouldn’t let me testify on our side!” he yelled. 

“Because I was doing my job, you daft -”

“HEEEEEEY!” Bill bellowed, banging his fist on the table.

You and Roger looked at him.

“Everybody calm the fuck down,” Bill said. “This was a setback, but we still have a strong case. What Glen did in there was a desperate, Hail Mary attempt to throw us off. We still have Dominique’s amazing testimony, Miss Thomas’s, and all the forensics. So both of you just relax, alright?”

You shot another harsh glare toward Roger and then took a seat. The shock of Roger’s testimony left you winded, but you were also terrified. If the jury now had a doubt that Nick was the culprit behind the attack on Dominique, you knew Roger would never forgive himself.

Just then, Glen burst into the room.

“What the fuck was with that witness?” he demanded. “Calling me ugly? Are you just trying to make me look stupid?”

“Hey, don’t you come in here making demands like that after what you did!” you retorted, jumping to your feet again. “You called Roger up just to try and frame him when you know that was rubbish!”

“God, you’re sexy when you’re angry,” he replied, tone softening. “Sure I can’t convince you to ditch blondie and grab a drink with me?”

“Alright!” Roger intervened, stepping closer.

“We are in the middle of a trial,” you said to Glen. “Could you act like a grown up?”

“Believe me, after seeing your legs in that skirt, my thoughts are entirely adult,” he said. “I actually started to get jealous of blondie since he gets to put his face between those gorgeous thighs every night.”

You opened your mouth to tell him that he’d gone too far, but Roger lunged past you, going for Glen. You and Bill each grabbed one of Roger’s arms, yanking him back. 

“Roger!” you cried, incredulous. 

“He crossed a line!” Roger bellowed. He glared fiercely at Glen. “Don’t you EVER talk about her like that!”

“HEY!” Bill interjected again. “Roger, settle down. Glen, get the fuck out.” 

“I still want to know about that witness,” Glen said. 

“She was the one who found Dominique, how could we not call her to the stand?” Bill argued. “Lucy Thomas is just a cold bitch by nature, we can’t help that.”

Roger was still glowering, breath heavy and chest heaving. 

“Alright, I’ll go,” Glen. “But I’m not going to take any more of that nonsense.”

“Oh, but you expect us to tolerate yours?” you retorted. 

“Y/N, that’s enough, we’re not doing this,” Bill said. 

“Bloody ridiculous,” Glen muttered as he swept out of the room. 

The door swung shut behind him. You rounded on Roger. 

“What’s got into you?” you cried. “Are you trying to make this worse?”

“I was defending you!” he argued. 

“OH MY GOD BOTH OF YOU SHUT IT!” Bill interrupted once again. 

All eyes were on him. 

“Emotions are running high right now,” he continued. “I’m going to get some lunch. Y/N, you’ve got the rest of the day off. Roger, do whatever the hell you want.” 

You blinked. “You’re sending me home?”

“Yes,” he said. “You’re riled up and snappish and frankly, I don’t want to talk to you for the rest of the day.”

You flared up, offended, but he stopped you from speaking with a look. Then he turned to Dominique. 

“Dom, can I get you some lunch?” he offered. 

“Throw in a drink, and I’m there,” she said.

She took his arm and they left together. The door snapped closed once again and you looked at Roger. 

“I appreciate you defending me, but after the argument he made in there, you can’t act like that, Rog,” you said, as calmly as you could. Inside, your emotions were swirling around like a hurricane. 

“What I did was human,” Roger replied, voice also steadying. “All I want to do is defend the people I love.”

“Well, don’t,” you said sharply. 

“Fine,” he snapped. “I won’t, then.”

From the look on his face, you knew you’d struck a nerve. Roger had never looked at you with so much disappointment and anger in his eyes. Not even during your worst fights. This was a new level. It made your heart sink. But when he went for the door, you didn’t try to stop him. You watched him go, feeling like a bad lawyer and an even worse girlfriend. 

You walked home from the courthouse. All your frustration was gone by the time you opened the door. You half hoped that Roger would be there and you could both apologize and make up. But he wasn’t. Your flat was as empty as you felt. With a heavy sigh, you set down your work things and went to go change. Only, when you got to your bedroom, you had no energy to do so. You kicked off your shoes, flopped face down on your bed, and let out a sob. You cried yourself into a deep sleep. 

You woke a couple hours later to a knock on your door. Brushing your fingers through your surely mussed up hair, you forced yourself from the bed and went to answer it. You knew who you hoped it was, but you couldn’t be sure Roger would be standing there. You left things so tense. 

To your shock and pleasure, it was him. He looked rather like a dog with his tail between his legs as you opened the door. You felt the same. You had behaved no better, in your opinion. 

“Hey,” he said awkwardly. 

“Hey,” you returned. 

A beat passed. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said in unison, and you both chuckled a little bit. 

“Come inside,” you offered. “We should talk.”

“Definitely,” he agreed. 

He came in and you went to the kitchen. You made some tea and handed it him a cup before sitting down across from him. 

“I’m sorry I testified for them,” he said. “Glen called me and asked me if I’d be willing to tell my side of the story. I had no idea he would go that direction.” 

“You can’t trust opposing counsel,” you said. “Especially the likes of him.”

“Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson,” he conceded. “The last thing I want to do is hurt Dominique’s case, I just…”

“I know you want to protect people, Rog,” you said, reaching over to take his hand. “That’s your natural instinct. And I admire that about you. Few people are as selfless as you are. But you can’t always be the one in the ring, okay?”

“I know,” he said. “And again, I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” you returned. “And I’m sorry too. I just got scared because Dom means a lot to me too and I don’t want her to go through all this only to lose.”

“I get it, I feel the same way,” he said. “I think we both forgot ourselves today because we care so much.”

“I told you having me might backfire,” you joked. 

He smiled. Another pause passed between you. 

“About Glen,” he said. “I’m also sorry I exploded like that. But I won’t apologize for defending you, he -”

“No, I agree he crossed a line today,” you cut across him. “That was way too far. Especially since we haven’t….y’know…”

“I know,” he said. “And when he said that today...just talking about you like that - even him thinking of touching you - it made me absolutely mad with rage. Because that connection we had...even back in the day...it was practically sacred to me, Y/N. To hear him say that, and make a mockery of it….I just couldn’t take it.”

You looked down to hide your blush. The sex was that meaningful to you as well, but you never thought he was so sentimental about it. 

“D’you remember when we used to?” he asked. “How you’d look me in the eyes?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. The memory made heat stir in the pit of your belly. 

“Yeah,” you said, finding the courage at last to look at him. “Of course I do.”

“No one else has ever looked in my eyes, y’know, during,” he said. “I felt like I could….I dunno, see your soul or something. I’ve had sex with plenty of women. But I’ve only really made love to one.”

You were certain your cheeks were redder than cherries at this point.

“Roger, I….” you trailed off. “I don’t know what to say. I had no idea it all meant so much to you. Especially with the way you left.”

He hung his head. “I know. But I hope you believe me.”

“I do,” you assured him. “I just wonder what made you think of all that?”

“Glen’s comments today were a part of it,” he said. “But also, a few weeks ago, you said we couldn’t because my divorce wasn’t final. But, it’s final now, and I’ve been thinking about being with you ever since I signed that paper.”

Your blush impossibly deepened. 

“Plus, seeing you in that courtroom is incredibly sexy,” he added with a laugh. 

You laughed too, relaxing you a bit. 

“I’ve been thinking about it too,” you admitted. “I’m just nervous.”

“Why?” he wondered. “By my memory, we were very good.”

You smiled. “I think I’m just afraid that if we try, then what we had before might not be there. And then what?”

“Y/N, it’s gonna be there,” he said, squeezing your hand. “I love you and you love me. That passion is there. Which is especially clear after today.” He took a deep breath. “But if you’re not ready, we can wait.”

You didn’t reply right away. Honestly, seeing him leap to your defense the way he did had turned you on, though you didn’t want to admit it. And every time he kissed you, you remembered how good it felt to go further with him. But your fear was real. What if it wasn’t the same as it used to be? There was only one way to find out. 

“Roger?”

“Yes, love?”

“Kiss me.”

He almost jumped out of his chair to come around the table to take you up in his arms. He lifted you to your feet and claimed your lips in a tender embrace. He moved slowly, giving you the opportunity to stop him if you wanted. But you wanted the opposite. 

You opened your mouth against his, and he reacted immediately, slipping his tongue between your lips. The kiss was heavy with the pent up desire you had both been feeling. Your mind was fuzzy, like getting drunk, but you were acutely aware of his hands sliding up your sides. His thumbs brushed your ribcage, just barely touching the underside of your breasts. 

You whimpered into his mouth and reached for the buttons of your blazer. He helped you shrug it off your shoulders and it fell to the floor. Beneath, you had just your plain white tank top and pencil skirt. He stopped kissing you to look over your body in the form fitting clothes. You saw the hungry look in his eyes and bit your lip.

Your lips already itched to feel his again. All of your skin was tingling with the desire for his touch. You watched him observe you, chest rising and falling with your deep, desperate breaths. 

When he met your gaze again, you couldn’t contain it anymore. You crashed upon him. Pressing into him to be as close as possible. His arms snaked around your waist to hold you there, his eagerness to be close as evident as yours. Then his hands made their way south and he gripped handfuls of your ass. 

You gasped and let out a husky breath, pushing even further into him. He groaned and you felt his hardness pressing into your lower stomach. You stopped kissing him to catch your breath and reach for the buttons of his shirt. 

“Fuck that,” he panted, and he pulled it over his head while you giggled. 

When his shirt had joined your jacket, you had your turn to admire him. You ran your fingers delicately down his torso. His skin was warm. 

“I guess we should be matching,” you teased, and you tugged your tank top off as well. 

Roger’s eyes on you as you reached back and unclasped your bra had you reeling. That was what you missed about making love to him. No one else had ever desired you so passionately.

With your breasts free, he took direct action. He cupped one in each hand and squeezed gently, massaging them before tweaking each nipple between his fingers. Your head fell back with a groan as the sensation sent more heat straight to your core. He attached his lips to your neck, whispering into your skin.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, love. God, I’ve missed you.”

You whined in returned, arching your back toward him. He pulled you close again. The heat of his body sent a chill up your spine.

“Wanna move to the bedroom, love?” he asked.

You nodded. He scooped you up and carried you in there as you giggled. You yelped with surprise when he tossed you on the bed and crawled up to join you. The next kisses were fervent and needy. You moaned again.

Roger’s fingers moved down your front and nimbly popped the buttons of your skirt before tugging the zipper down. You did not wear panty hose. You liked the way your legs looked without them, and you knew you could distract an opposing male lawyer if need be. You played dirty too sometimes.

You pushed your thong down your legs as Roger worked off his jeans. He groaned at the sight of you bare before him, sprawled out and breathless from his kisses. You smirked at him with cat like playfulness as you sat up. You gently pulled the waistband of his boxers down, slowly, watching his face as you went. Beads of sweat formed at his hairline from your torturous pace.

“Fuck, baby, I need you,” he sighed.

With a grin, you swiftly removed his boxers, and he kicked them off the bed. Then, you took hold of his hips, rubbing soft little circles into the slightly protruding bones. He hissed with anticipation.

Then, you gave him what he wanted. You licked a stripe up his cock. A loud groan came from his throat. You swirled your tongue around his tip before wrapping your lips around him and taking him down. He let out such a delicious moan your mouth watered around him.

You began with a slow pace. Dragging your mouth forward and back, teasing him. His short, eager breaths egged you on. You saw him trembling trying to maintain control, but after you hollowed out your cheeks and really sucked, his hips jerked forward. You almost gagged, but held back.

“Sorry,” he choked out. “God, it feels so good.”

He buried his fingers in your hair and pulled you off of him. That was typical. Roger preferred not to cum in your mouth, and he refused to finish before you had gotten one or two orgasms of your own. Usually more.

You licked your lips and looked expectantly at him. He took your shoulders and lay you back. Your legs fell open for him. He got onto his knees there, but didn’t settle on top of you. Instead, he kissed you again. He teased your lips with his tongue, and you opened up. He explored your mouth, getting you all hot again, before pulling away. 

He nipped and sucked along your jawbone and down the soft skin of your neck. He trailed across your collarbones, down your chest - briefly stopping to suck on each of your nipples - and then made his way down your stomach. He slowed down the closer he got to your pelvis. Roger was not an explorer trekking out into new territory. He was coming home. He recalled every sensitive spot on your body. What made you moan, sigh, and giggle. He exploited this knowledge to the full extent as he made his way down. It made your whole body light up with excitement and need. Finally, you whined impatiently and pushed your hips up. 

With a cocky chuckle, he took his tongue to your folds. You gasped sharply as your back arched. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked lightly, just how you liked it.

“Oh! Roger!” you cried, heels digging into the mattress.

He moaned into you, the vibrations sending an extra thrill all the way up your body. You’d almost forgotten how extraordinarily well he used his tongue and mouth. He was zeroed in on your clit, making you writhe around as you released pathetic whimpers and soft cries of his name.

The pressure was building inside you as he worked your core with his mouth. Your voice raised several octaves and your legs quivered as you hurtled toward the sweet release. When you were on the cusp, he sank a finger into you. You groaned so deeply you felt him smile against you. He curled his finger toward himself, pushing on your g-spot with expert precision. 

“Rog - oh fuck!” you nearly sobbed.

He added a second finger, stretching you just slightly. Your walls clamped down around him as he drove you further toward the edge.

“Please, please,” you begged, panting.

He sped up, knowing just what you needed. Between the flicks of his tongue and the thrusts of his fingers, you were there. Your legs stiffened, your back arched high off the bed, a scream tore from your throat as it hit you. The wave of pleasure crashed over you, and Roger did not relent as you began to come down, shaking with the sensation of it all.

He eased you down, slowing his pace before removing the contact. Your body quivered. He smiled, pleased with himself, and he crawled back over you again to help with the shivering. Hot as you were during, you were always cold after an orgasm, so he held you a moment.

You were panting too hard for him to kiss you properly, so he peppered your face and neck with pecks. When you giggled, he knew you were okay.

His hips settled between your thighs, and you gasped as his cock brushed your entrance. Then you moaned.

“Ready for more, sweetheart?” he asked, running his finger along your jaw.

You nodded. “Please, more.”

You didn’t even worry about sounding pathetic. You could be anything with Roger - strong, weak, pathetic, needy, vulnerable, bitchy, sweet, sexy - all of it. Any side of yourself was accepted and loved by him. 

He rested on his forearms, cupping your face between his hands, and he slid into you. It was like magic. He fit so perfectly inside you - with just enough stretch to make you whimper with need. You both took a moment to revel in being together again. Being completely united. 

You locked eyes. You understood what he meant earlier. Your souls met behind your irises. You had never felt more connected to him. And from the soft look in his eyes, you knew he felt the same.

“I love you so much,” he sighed.

“I love you too,” you returned.

You turned your face and took his finger into your mouth, a weakness of his. His eyes fell closed and his hips rutted forward, deeper into you. You squeaked with surprise and then chuckled, moving to match him.

You fell easily into a rhythm together. It flowed as naturally as the tides. Roger filled you with each thrust, and you climbed slowly together back up to the edge. His name escaped your lips as he rocked into you. Delicate declarations of his love and your beauty swept off his breath. You didn’t hear them, but you felt them.

He sped up and it was like coming out of a fog. Each snap of his hips shook you and you clutched onto his shoulders for dear life. Your moans rose in volume and octave as you found yourself clenching around him again. 

“Oh - Roger - Oh God -”

“I’m so close, baby,” he grunted. “Please, one more for me.”

He removed his hand from its proximity to your face and slid it between your bodies, finding your clit as if it were magnetized. He rubbed tight, fast circles on it, and your vision began to blur. 

The second one hit you harder and more suddenly. White exploded behind your eyes as your walls fluttered around his cock. Roger cried your name once more and spilled into you, slowing down his thrusts as you peaked together. You twitched against him as he guided you back down steadily. He slowed to a stop and watched you panting beneath him.

He inched himself out of you. You still winced at the feeling. Once he was able, he rolled off you and you crawled into his arms. You needed his warmth.

“Mmm, Rog,” you hummed, pulling him closer.

“Good?” he asked.

“Incredible,” you replied.

“I don’t wanna speak too soon, but I think we’ve still got it,” he teased.

You smiled lazily. “We do.”

“What do you need now, love?”

“Sleep,” you said through a yawn.

He chuckled. “Of course you do.”

He kissed your forehead and you both drifted off. All worries about your relationship and the trial were forgotten. For now, you could just be.

[jimin-jungshook-over-literalbae]

Sunshine & Darkness *Part 4*

I bet you thought this was never coming!! But here we are. I finally finished part 4. Honestly, I think this part is the longest one so far and I love it so much. Let me know what you think!

     The water sparkles and shimmers in the light of late morning. We scramble out of our cars, thankful to be stretching out our limbs after our cramped riding positions. I wasn't in nearly as much pain as some of the taller guys who had to cram themselves in the backseat. I had ended up in the backseat on Jooheon's lap since I was the shortest and took up the least space. It was somehow both comfortable and awkward.

     After a few minutes of stretching, we set about unloading the two cars. Shownu leads the short walk to our camping spot. I pick up a surprisingly heavy box of food that's at least half my height. My short height and the weight of the box results in some slightly uncomfortable shuffling as I carry it but it's manageable. I pause for a moment to readjust my grip as I feel it begin to slip.

     "You know, you could have just asked for help," An amused voice comes from behind me. I glance back to see Wonho, some tents and chairs nestled in his arms.

     "No need. I can carry it," I smile brightly, my ponytail flipping over my shoulder as I continue my trek to the campsite. I take a moment to be glad I wore actual clothes as opposed to showing up wearing my swimsuit, especially considering all the heavy lifting.

     It takes 30 minutes to unload both cars and another hour to set up our campsite. The three tents are set up relatively close together but distant enough that if one tent decided to sleep early, the other ones won't keep them awake. This had been Shownu's request since he tends to like to sleep earlier than I.M and Hyungwon. The tents are quickly distributed out. Shownu, Wonho, and Kihyun have one tent. The next one is shared by Jooheon, Minhyuk and I. The last tent is J, Hyungwon, and I.M. J and I were supposed to share originally but she shut that down as quickly as they suggested it. She hates sleeping near me because I have a tendency to want to cuddle and she hates it. The cramped sleeping quarters make me a little nervous but I'm sure it'll be fine.

     "Do we want to start off with some beach sports and then go swimming or just start off swimming? There aren't many waves so we probably can't get any surfing done today," Shownu holds a bag in his right hand, a few badmitton rackets in the other.

     "I wouldn't mind some volleyball before we go swimming," Wonho suggests. Shownu and Wonho set up the net while we set up teams. It wouldn't be fair to put Shownu and Wonho on the same team so it's decided that Jooheon and I are with Wonho while Kihyun and Minhyuk are teamed up with Shownu. J and I.M wander of after declining to play and Hyungwon ends up as the score keeper.

     The beach we're on is an uninterrupted piece used specifically as camping groups. It's enclosed on both sides by cliffs and rock formations. I slip in to my tent to change into my swimsuit and my cover up before grabbing my camera bag and joining the boys. I set my bag in the shade by Hyungwon before joining my team. I pull at the edges of my yellow cover up shirt despite the fact that it reaches midthigh. Being surrounded by so many attractive, now shirtless, guys makes me a bit nervous.

     As the game starts, it's quickly learned that I am a disadvantage to my team. My short height and lack of athletic ability show their colors pretty quickly. I wasn't horrible but I certainly wasn't good. At the halfway mark, as we're taking a break, I excuse myself from the game. Wonho argued against it halfheartedly but I just smiled and waved him off, retrieving my camera bag.

     It not super hot yet, instead landing at a more comfortable and warm temperature. I can see I.M and J up on one of the cliffs bordering our camping spot. I attach a lens to my camera and snap a few pictures of them before turning my attention elsewhere. J's green and white polka dot two piece and white wrap skirt stand out well against the dark colors of the rock cliff.

     Part of me wishes I had sprung for one of those water proof cameras so I could get some underwater shots but I guess that's a goal for the future. I get caught up in my photography for a while, forgetting everything else. I wander up and down the beach, taking pictures of whatever catches my attention. I do manage to snatch some pictures of the boys before wandering to a different part of the beach. At some point, I discard my cover up and step in the water. It takes me a while to get the shots that I want but I'm able to take some abstract photos I love.

     I'm not sure how long I've been there when a warm hand slides across the bare skin of my stomach, pulling me back against a warm chest. I only have a moment to feel self conscious of my sunflower swimsuit bottoms and yellow swimsuit top. A piece of fabric trails down from the top to covers most of my stomach. I drop my camera in my surprise, suddenly glad I always wear the neck strap.

     "Hey baby," I freeze when I realize that the voice is unfamiliar. I scramble away from the form, landing on my butt on the sand at the edge of the water. A tall figure I don't recognize looks down at me, a grin on his face. I can't stop my instinctual fear. A second figure casts a shadow above me.

     "Are you okay?" This time, the voice is familiar. Jooheon helps me to my feet, his gaze on the man obviously confrontational.

     "I'm okay," My voice is almost a whisper. Jooheon nods at me, his eyes still trained on the man. Jooheon's hand rests on the bare skin of my stomach, comforting me.

     "Hey, sorry man. No harm done. She was separate from your group so I figured she was by herself," The guy raises his hands defensively. Jooheon's hand balls into a fist but it's me who steps forward, anger coursing through me.

     "That doesn't mean it's okay," My voice is a growl that surprises all of us. Despite the fact that I have to look up at him, I glare at him," You should never touch anyone without their permission. It doesn't matter if they're by themselves or with someone else. It doesn't matter if it's Jooheon or me."

     "Hey. Chill out, baby. It's not big deal, really," He tries to give me a charming smile but I'm livid at this point.

     "It is a big deal and this is private property so you should probably leave. Don't make me call the cops on you," I glower at him, my hands almost shaking with my anger.

     "Bitch, just shut the fuck up. Nothing happened so leave it the hell alone. Don't make me knock your fucking teeth out," His fingers close around my chin, digging into the skin.

      "Wanna say that again?" Jooheon's voice is low and dark. The grip on my chin is released and the guys steps away from me. His face flickers with discomfort before he replaces it with false bravado.

     "Yeah, whatever. You can keep the ugly bitch," He turns and stalks away. Jooheon moves to go after him but I place a hand on his chest and glance at him. His hand closes around mine.

     "Just let it go. He's not worth it," My free hand moves of its' own free will, rubbing up and down his arm soothingly. He finally looks at me, letting out a long breath.

     His hand, which is now at my waist, pulls me closer and his lips burn into mine. That fire and electricity is back again. We haven't slept together since that first night. His teeth dig gently into my bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth. A few moments later, he pulls away. My breathing is sped up and I struggle to slow my booming heartbeat.

     "Sorry," He murmurs. His large hand is still tangled in my hair. I step closer to him, my head resting on his collarbone as I wrap my arms around him. He tenses for a short moment but his arms wrap around me and hold me close.

     "I'm okay, I just need a moment to compose myself," I say softly, not leaving his embrace for a long moment.

     "You're shaking, babygirl," His lips are close to my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

     "There might be a few too many people around for you to be calling me by that name again, baby," My lips brush lightly against the underside of his jaw.

     "Maybe we can find time, later," His nose skims my jawline, and his lips meet mine again for a brief kiss.

     "Can you guys stop making out over there? You're making everyone else uncomfortable," J's voice is loud and causes a blush to spread across my cheeks. Jooheon smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

     "Cute," Jooheon finally steps away. I grab my swimsuit cover and we head back to the group. J and I.M seemed to have returned from their day on the cliffs and have started directing Shownu on where to place the bonfire. The stack takes a while to make but we're finished by the time the sun is starting to sink. It's not long until J and Hyungwon are dancing around the bonfire to music playing from Shownu's speakers. J has a large bottle of rum in her hand that she continually takes swigs from. The lighting is just enough for me to snag some aesthetic pictures without the flash. I almost slip into my headspace once again where I forget about everything other than my photography but Kihyun breaks me out of it.

     "You know, you can socialize outside of your camera, right?" Kihyun holds out a plastic cup of alcohol to me. I return my camera to it's bag and shut it in safely before taking the cup.

     "I just get caught up sometimes. I like the stories images tell," I sip the alcohol, feeling the familiar burn. I don't really drink that often but I have a decent tolerance, at least.

     "Did you take any pictures of me today?" His curiosity seems genuine this time.

      "Yeah. Here, I can show you," I set the cup in the sand and pull my camera back out. I look the gallery, finding the first one pretty quickly since I just took it a few minutes ago. His face is half in shadow, the fire light glowing on the other side. His expression is a quiet kind of thoughtfulness. The other picture takes longer to find. It's one from earlier in the day. He had just scored a point in volleyball. He's turned toward Minhyuk, a bright and happy smile on his face and the ocean silhouetting him to create a stark contrast against his dark hair. He gives me a genuine smile.

     "These are amazing," Kihyun moves to the next photo, looking at some nature photos and coming to a stop on a picture of Jooheon. He's laughing, his eyes closed into little crescent moon smiles of their own. Fire light dances across his tan skin, making the picture feel more like he's an ethereal being as opposed to a human.

     When I look back up, J is sitting in between Hyungwon and I.M and they're passing the bottle of rum back and forth. Shownu and Wonho seem to be having some kind of chugging contest as they drink cups of the punch that someone, I never saw who, threw together. It's pretty intense so I imagine it won't be long until they're both drunk. Jooheon sits near them, watching the contest and sipping his own drink, occasionally cheering on one or the other.

     Kihyun hands me back my camera and I tuck it back in it's bag after making sure that I've powered it off. I polish off my cup of punch and debate about whether I want another one or not. I always feel it in my head first, when I start drinking. The first cup, or shot, is always the worst. It's quite warm and the alcohol certainly isn't helping with that so I decide to take a quick dip in the water, since I hadn't gotten around to that yet.

     I step away from the warm fire and slip off my cover up, laying it with my camera. I slip off my flip flops as well, leaving those near the fire, and let my feet sink into the sand as I walk toward the water. The water feels slightly cooler with the sun down but it's still quite warm and I quickly make the decision to dive in once of the water is tall enough. I swim for a little while, letting the cool water warm my skin.

     I lay on my back, floating on the water as my hair floats in the water as a halo around my head. I float for a while, keeping an eye to make sure I don't get too far from the shore. I only stop floating when my head bumps into something and I see an upside down (by Jay Park, Loco, Simon Dominic, and Gray) Jooheon staring at me. I quickly right myself, standing up and blushing.

     His hands are warm against my water chilled skin, his forehead resting against mine. His nose skims mine, his breath warm on my cheek. I let out a small breath, my heart racing as his lips trace my cheek and then trailer along the shell of my ear, setting my nerve endings on fire. I shiver, my mind clearing of everything else as he breathes against my ear. It's always been a weak point for me and it makes my heart beat faster.

     "What is it about you," His question gives me pause. I'm not sure what he wants me to say. His lips ghost down the side of my neck, his arm wrapping tightly around my waist. His tongue slides along my collarbone, fogging my mind and almost making me forget his question. He finally puts me out of my misery and kisses me, his lips consuming mine. I had been desperate to kiss him ever since our kiss on the beach earlier.

     He pulls me close, moves us backward. A rough surface presses to my back. It must be the cliff but I'm too dazed to notice. I'm not sure how long we've been kissing when he finally pulls away. One of my hands is tangled in his hair and the other floats up and down his spine with feather like touches. One of his fingers is hooked in the bottom of my swimsuit but he shakes his head and removed it. Before I can feel hurt about him pulling away, he gives me a sweet smile.

     "You deserve better than me sleeping with you against a cliff face just so we can hide from our friends. I'll find us some time to sneak away somewhere and spend some time together," He lets out a long sigh and runs his fingers though my hair," Come on. Lets get back. I told Shownu I would put out the fire once I came and got you. We should probably sleep soon anyway."

     We make our way back to the beach. Everyone else seems to have separated into their tents, but there's a lot of sound coming from J's tent. I'm sure their still drinking and hanging out. I help Jooheon put the fire out and we slip into our tent. Minhyuk looks up at us groggily, obviously half asleep. I step outside of the tent for a minute after grabbing my bag to change in the nearby bathroom. It's basically a porta-potty and it's impossible to see but I manage.

     When I get back, I notice that Jooheon has laid out a sleeping bag for me. It's in the middle of the two of them but I can't help but notice it's slightly closer to him. I grab an extra blanket that I brought with me and lay on top of the sleeping bag. Jooheon gives me a questioning look. He's laying on his side, facing me.

     "I tend to toss and turn when I'm falling asleep, trying to get comfortable. It's hard to do that in a sleeping bag but it still creates a good cushion from the ground," I explain, adjusting my pillow so it's perfectly underneath my head and neck," Also, I should warn you that I apparently like to try to cuddle anyone nearby while I sleep so push me off if you need to."

     "Or, we could just skip a step and you could sleep over here with me," his voice is a quiet whisper. It doesn't take anymore convincing for me to shift the sleeping bag closer to him and drape us both in the blanket as I cuddle up to him, my arm around his waist and my head on his chest. His arm wraps around my waist and nuzzles his face into my hair for a second and then I'm drifting off to sleep.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think!

[mrcleanheichou]

Forever and Ever

When two young people fall in love others often call it puppy love. A love so intense that ultimately fizzles out very quickly. No one believes someone so young could fall for someone so fast and have it be genuine until they see it with their own eyes.

Pairing Cowboy!Jungkook x reader

Genre fluff, angst, smut

Word count 2.2K

Warnings small amount of smut like touching the D over his pants and peer pressure (if that’s a warning)

A/N Hi everyone! This is my first ever fic that I’ve written in 2 years. I used to run a smut reaction blog for another fandom. So this is my first actual plot based story. I want to thank @poundingthewitchdrums93 for helping me cultivate this countryside yee haw AU and to @machiavelliancarribeanmidget for always encouraging me. This is also very self indulgent because i really wanted Cowboy Jungkook but i couldn’t find any fics. So I took matters into my own hands and this baby was born.

Chapter 1

1935

Once a week for the past 3 years, rain or shine, an old man makes his way to the town cemetery. Cemetery workers know him by name and they all have a soft spot for him. They all pitched in and bought a nice bench for him so he no longer had to sit on the ground. He wanted to pay them back for their kindness but they refused his money as it was their gift. So instead of showing his thanks with money he started bring apples from his apple orchard. He had always brought two each time he came but now he brings a bag full to share. She would have wanted it that way. She always told him ‘When you have something sweet you should never keep it all to yourself.’

The man dropped off the bag of apples at the office and made his way down the winding path. As he got closer to his destination he saw the sunflowers he had planted. She always loved them, never missing the opportunity to tell him that they reminded her of him. ‘They are bright and always move towards the sun just like you.’

He can feel the tears welling up in his eyes as he places the apple down in front of the headstone that reads “*Jeon Y/N, Doting wife and loving mother 1840-1932*

“Do you remember what day it is, Y/N? This is the day I met the woman I would love forever.”

1862

“Hyung, I don’t want to go” a young man whines as his big black horse walks behind two others, whose riders are way more enthusiastic.

“I don’t want hear it, Jungkook. I already told you we’re going to make you a man. You’re 20, it’s time you get your dick wet.”

“I’ve never heard a man complain about losing his virginity before”, the smaller of the two snickered looking back at the younger man. Jungkook just rolls his eyes and adjusts his hat.

“I’d rather not lose it to some random prostitute. Unlike you two heathens I have morals” he barked back.

“Oh, don’t be so uptight. Jimin and I both lost ours at a brothel.”

“They know what they’re doing so you’re in good hands... Literally”, Jimin laughs as he stops his horse “Taehyung and I are both paying for you and we’re getting you the top girl. So be grateful.”

“Yeah, you little shit. Do you know how much she charges? You’re lucky we love you”, Taehyung says as he snaps his reins to get his horse to start jogging.

As the town gets closer Jungkook can’t help but feel dread. He really does not want to go to the saloon with his hyungs. They always push him to go upstairs with the saloon girls but he manages to escape every time. This time he knows they are going to ensure he goes into the room. It’s not like he thinks there’s anything wrong with having sex with the saloon girls it’s just not something he’s interested in. He wants to only do that with the woman he falls in love with. Call him old fashioned but he knows what he wants.

The town they come to is called Coyote Creek. It’s a small town but it’s closer to Bangtan Ranch than Silver Landings, a much larger town, is. Personally Jungkook loves this little town, everyone is friendly and there’s hardly any trouble unless a group of rouge bandits or some angry drunk cowboys come through. But the sheriff and his deputies take care of them quickly.

Riding through town Jungkook hears a sound that always makes him smile. The children are out playing during school. He loves to see them have fun and know that they’re learning. He feels envious each time though because his father didn’t let him go to school. He made him work at their farm all day. Constantly telling him he was only good for working in the fields so why waste time sending him to school. Although Jungkook never got a proper education that does not mean he isn’t smart. He’s very quick witted and knows his way around the world. He just has trouble reading things and some issues with math. The man who took Jungkook in and hired him as a ranch hand tried teaching him but it ended up with both of them getting frustrated.

Stopping his horse to watch the children and to say hello to Mrs. Choi, the kind teacher who he always greets. But instead of Mrs. Choi he is shocked to see a beautiful young woman there instead.

“Jinwoo, apologize to Yeunjae. It’s not nice to hit”, the woman says firmly. She is standing beside a crying boy who is holding onto her skirt for dear life.

“I’m sorry for hitting you”, another boy says while looking at the ground in shame. The first boy sniffles and mumbles “It’s ok.”

“Thank you, Jinwoo, for saying you’re sorry, now both of you run along and play with everyone else.”

The woman moves to sit on the steps of the school to watch over the children. While Jungkook sits watching her transfixed.

“Yah! Kookie hurry up!” Jimin yells at him already tying his horse up. At that the woman looks over and notices Jungkook staring. Jungkook panics and freezes at the eye contact. He finally snaps out of it and hurries to where Jimin and Taehyung were waiting blushing furiously. If Jimin and Taehyung saw how red his face is they didn’t say anything.

“Why were you taking so long?”, Taehyung asks as they walk into the loud smoke filled room.

“No reason, I just started spacing out.”

“Well, you better not do that later. Just because they’re getting paid doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to show them a good time”, Jimin said as they navigated through the poker tables with high stakes games being played. Once they made it to the bar Taehyung ordered a full bottle of whiskey and three glasses. As soon as they sit down to start drinking a woman comes up to them.

“Why hello there Jimin. Did you really miss me that much?”, A woman said running her hand on Jimin’s chest.

“You know I always miss you Rosé”, he says making her giggle. “But I’m not here for me I’m here for my friend over there”, he pulls out some cash “I was hoping you could show him a good time. He’s never been with a woman.”

Rosé looks over at Jungkook while he tries to shrink in his chair. “Ooo Jimin look at what you brought me. A virgin and a cute one to boot. Yes, I’ll do it. I’ll send some of my other girls down for you two”, she says tucking the money into her bra as she approaches Jungkook and touches his cheek which makes him flinch.

“It’s ok honey, I don’t bite”, she smiles at him before she leans closer to his ear “unless you want me to.” He immediately turns red while she smirks at his reaction.

“C’mon big boy lets go upstairs”, she says as she grabs his hand and starts to lead him to the private rooms.

“Have fun!”, Taehyung yelled across the bar as they started up the stairs

“Don’t come back too fast!”, Jimin called after him. Jungkook just gives both of them dirty looks.

As they walked all the way to the end of the, surprisingly nice looking, hallway all that could be heard was the sound of sex. Loud moans of pleasure from women who didn’t care if anyone heard. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t getting a little aroused.

“Right in here, honey.” Rosé says as she opens the door to a room that smells faintly of vanilla. The room contents are sparse. Just a large bed, a wooden chair and a small table. Jungkook follows as she pulls him to the soft looking bed. “Go ahead and lay down for me.”

He follows orders as she gets on the bed and slowly starts running a hand down his chest to right above his belt buckle then back up again. She could feel him tense up. “It’s ok baby, I know you’re nervous but you don’t need to be. I know it’s your first time. I’ll be gentle I promise.”

Jungkook chokes on a breath when he feels her hand on the growing length between his legs. She smiles at his reaction “See you have nothing to worry about. Just relax and let me take care of you.”, she says gently squeezing him causing Jungkook to involuntary buck up into her hand.

As Rosé starts working on getting his belt undone Jungkook closes his eyes and thinks back to the pretty school teacher. That makes his dick twitch in his pants. Then he suddenly realizes where he is and what’s happening. “I-I-I’m sorry but I can’t do this” he says as he grabs Rosé’s wrist.

“What’s the matter? Are you not comfortable? We can try something else.”

Jungkook stands up and redoes his belt. “No, that’s not it. I just...” he pauses embarrassed “I just didn’t want it to happen this way.”

She looks at him as she puts two and two together. “They’re making you do this, huh.” He just nods “That’s alright Hun, I’m not in the business of forcing anyone to do what they don’t want to. Although, I was really looking forward to you being inside me” she pouts as Jungkook’s face turns even redder “I’ll cut you a deal. If you ever change your mind in the future I won’t charge you.”

“Thank you”, Jungkook says visibly relieved.

Jungkook got up and adjusted himself before walking out the door. His nose is once again filled with the smell of smoke and alcohol as opposed to the sweet vanilla of Rosé’s room. He makes his way through the small crowd of rowdy drunk men. He looked toward the bar to see if Jimin and Taehyung were still there. When he couldn’t see them he went for the door. Once outside in the fresh air he sighed, going to where their hoses were.

“Hey, Dolly”, the horse as dark as coal snorted at him and bumped her nose against his hand. Beside her a light grey stallion tosses his head and whinnies at Jungkook trying to get his attention. “Aish, I see you Silver no need to have a fit.”

Before he can give the fussy horse some attention Jungkook caught the sound of school children running along the street. He perked up as he saw the woman walking along with some of the children making sure they don’t get trampled by wagons as they travel in the street. Her y/h/c hair was done up nicely and her light blue dress flowed as she held the hand of a little girl.

The woman must have felt him staring because she looked to where Jungkook was, making eye contact with him. Jungkook reacted by ducking out of sight.

What he didn’t see was the woman chuckle to her self as she was pulled away by the impatient children.

Once out of sight he took some deep breaths and touched his face face trying to calm down. He couldn’t understand why he was feeling this way. He’s seen beautiful women before but he’s never felt much towards them. Even when they practically throw themselves at his feet. What made her so special?

Jin hyung loves to talk about love at first sight but Jungkook always tunes him out when he gets worked up about the subject. Now he’s thinking Jin might be onto something.

About twenty minutes later Jimin and Taehyung come through the swinging saloon doors with huge smiles. Taehyung wrestles Jungkook into a headlock knocking his hat off and messing up his hair.

“Aww, my little Jungkookie is a man now”, Taehyung says as he lets Jungkook go, pretending to wipe away a tear. while Jungkook scowls at him brushing the dirt off his hat.

“So how was it?”, Jimin asks as he unties the knot he tied Silver’s reins into.

“It was ok”, Jungkook says trying to avoid Jimin’s eyes. “Just ok?”, Taehyung asks in disbelief.

“I-I mean great! Amazing! I wish I would have done that sooner” Jungkook said laughing nervously.

“Right?! There’s nothing better than good pussy!”, Taehyung exclaims a little too loud earning them some glares from the ladies across the street. Jimin just gives Jungkook a look like he’s trying to see through his lie.

Jungkook deflects by hastily getting on his horse, “Are you guys ready? I want to go home.”

“Oh, you think you call the shots now? Kids these days have no respect”, Taehyung says dramatically.

“Hurry up”, Jungkook answers back.

The three men head out to back to the cattle ranch from which they came. On the way out Jungkook looks towards the old school building trying to catch a glimpse of the woman who has held his attention all day. Of course he knew she wouldn’t be there but he still feels disappointed.

Jungkook doesn’t fully understand what he’s feeling but one thing he knows for sure. He’s going to try to come to town as much as he can.

[ojariya]

Expert Tips on How to Choose Rugs For The Different Rooms

In all honesty, however mat shopping can genuinely leave you depleted on the off chance that you are ignorant of what you are searching for. All things considered, few out of every odd room of one's house is the equivalent, which is the reason we call them by various names - room, parlor, washroom and the rundown proceeds. In this way, normally, you can comprehend that each room requests something remarkable. What's more, it's tied in with bringing out an alternate vibe as well as about having an ideal size. In the event that you are a fledgling or regardless of whether you are a prepared carpet purchaser and have a distinct fascination for inside structuring, intending to beautify the rooms of your home yet the decent variety of alternatives are keeping you down then take a break to experience this asset. Encased here are important hints that can assist you with choosing carpets for all the rooms of your dwelling place.

We should delve in immediately.

Room carpets

Frequently than not, room carpets help set up a room as a serene retreat, where one can appreciate a sound rest. The main way you can accomplish it is by picking cool shades, which will be alleviating to one's eyes. Some of them like the Mad Men Collection Griff Bronx Azurite, Atlantic Collection Streaks Long Island Blue, Gatsby Blush Pink Abstract Tonal Rug, Cozy Rug Pink and comparable other inconspicuous concealed floor covers are ideal for keeping it serene and bestowing a spa-like climate. Aside from shading, you should likewise think about an agreeable surface, stepping on which would cause you to feel loose. An expression of counsel is stick to fleece, bamboo silk and cotton materials for your room.

Lounge room floor coverings

While it's prescribed to avoid striking examples on zone floor coverings for rooms, it's the polar opposite in lounge mats. Here, you can explore different avenues regarding something that will represent your boisterous character however it's prescribed to pick a story covering, which will never play the prevailing component, rather mix with the general topic. Regarding surface and material, it's proposed that you go for fleece as it's simpler to manage from a cleaning point of view. Discussing size, it's ideal to skirt a one end to the other floor covering and change to something little so that in any event the cutting of the floors is uncovered.

In adoration with odd-formed round territory carpets? All things considered, fortunately you can proceed with the decision and get your innovative energies pumping. Layering rectangular ones with them can be an ideal method to carry enthusiasm to your front room. There are incalculable such round floor covers to browse and a couple of them incorporates Chinook Woolable Circle, Sahara Round Burgundy and Orla Kiely Sunflower Pink Circle.

Lounge area mats

As we as a whole know, a lounge area has a crucial influence in each home. It's actually where families partake in a dinner together and examine their day with individuals over food. Thus, you can normally comprehend the degree of pedestrian activity it experiences. Given the situation, you ought to consistently waitlist cut heap fleece carpets for your lounge area, which will be sufficiently suffering to shoulder coincidental spills and resulting thorough cleaning to keep stains from settling. Additionally, it ought to be something which will withstand hauling of seats. Court carpet naval force and its range is an ideal base on the grounds that these are water-safe, lightweight and simple to clean. In spite of the fact that it's customized from polypropylene, it will positively fill the need. Likewise, there are the ones woven from fleece, cotton and thick yarn like the Fields Rug Red. This also goes about as a magnificent lounge area carpet.

Door floor coverings

Coming to halls, those floor covers ought to be picked which set the disposition of your home, sets up the character of your abode and withstands pedestrian activity. All things considered, passages experience the best pedestrian activity. It's ideal to settle with those woven from man-made materials like polypropylene as it's made to oppose stain, suffer pedestrian activity and streamline the upkeep work.

Washroom carpets

With respect to carpets, these ought to be delicate, agreeable and retentive underneath so when you step on them subsequent to scrubbing down, they absorb the water from your uncovered feet and still figures out how to remain fit as a fiddle. Concerning hues, inconspicuous ones best suit restrooms as these give a sterile stylish.

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[misscrazyfangirl321]

Ten for Ten for Ten

Rules: Answer ten questions, come up with ten questions of your own, and tag ten people.

Thank you, @parkerseliot, for the tag!!! 

If you could choose to have been born/celebrate your birthday in a different month, which month would you choose and why?

Actually, September is a pretty decent month: far enough away from Halloween/Thanksgiving/Christmas to not overlap with anything, during the school semester so I see people I know then... Yeah, I’m good with that. But I’d probably move it to later in the month, father away from the 11th. (Mine’s the 10th.) 

2. If you could write a song for an artist/musician of your choice, with the guarantee they’d perform/record it, who would you write for?

Oh gosh. O.O I’m not much of a songwriter. But if I had a guarantee that it would go well, probably... Maddie Wilson.  

3. Which pair of shoes that you currently own are your favorites? Why? Happy memories, comfort?

Probably my black combat boots. Just because they’re super comfortable, and they don’t really fit with my normal “image,” so I’ve gotten some fun comments about them. 

4. Would you rather drink iced coffee in winter or hot coffee in the summer?

Not a big coffee drinker, unless it’s decaf (and even then, not so much lately), but cold drinks can totally be consumed at any time of the year. 

5. You are released in to a thrift store with $20 bucks and 20 minutes to find something you like! What are you getting? The suspenders with mustaches on them? The glittery suit jacket with shoulder pads? A lamp that has faulty wiring but a Shakespeare quote printed on the lampshade?

*Cracks knuckles* Okay, this is my area of expertise. First stop? Books. If I only have 20 minutes, I won’t look closely, but I’ll at least do a cursory once-over. Second stop, DVDs. Again, no lingering, but if there’s a movie or series I’ve been wanting to watch, I’ll grab it. Finally, clothes. I’ll probably grab a long, flowing dress or skirt. If I still have any time or money left after this, I’ll stop in the stationary and grab a notebook or two. 

6. What are your thoughts on marriage? Is it for you? Are you married? Do you plan to be?

Wow, this just went from light to deep in a heartbeat. This is a good question, though. I think marriage is a very good thing, and a very important step in relationships. I personally am not married, nor do I have a boyfriend. Is it for me? I don’t know. I’m not opposed, and if I get into a serious relationship, that’s where I want it to go. But I just don’t know if that’s what my future holds or not. 

7. Okay, let’s get serious: Eating peanut butter straight from the jar. Yes or no?

Depends on if you live alone or not. If you do, go for it, but if other people are using the jar, then no.

8. You can only listen to one genre of music for a week. What is it?

I don’t even know what genre of music I listen to now. I’ll go with country, though. I can probably find something there to last me a week.

9. If you could change the blue of the Tumblr background to any color, what would you choose?

Probably purple. I like purple. 

10. Which fictional tv show world would you like to live in for a day? Don’t worry, you won’t miss anything in the Real World and you can’t be killed (or maimed too badly) in the fictional one. Where will you be?

First of all, “or maimed too badly” is the best clarification ever. 

Second, all things considered... Probably Eureka.

WAIT NO. MERLIN. Because if I CAN’T be killed, then I am going to do my absolute best to mess with Uther’s head. First with parlor tricks, then whatever. I’m going to do everything I can to convince him that I have magic. I’m going to cause as much chaos as possible. And if he tries to kill me, it won’t work. Which will only freak him out more.. 

My questions...

1. Which fictional character, if any, would you most want to marry? 

2. If you could travel to visit anywhere in the known universe without danger, (no suffocating in outer space, no drowning under water, etc.) where would you go? One rule: It has to be a specific, known place. Not “as far into outer space as possible” or something. 

3. What is your happiest memory?

4. If you could make a permanent crossover between any two shows, and it was guaranteed to be good, which shows would you choose?

5. The star(s) from the last movie you watched and the star(s) of the last TV show you watched are cast in a new movie together. (Actors, not characters.) What kind of movie is it? Tell me about it. 

6. What’s a hobby that you have outside of Tumblr/fandom? (Sewing, singing, juggling tacos, etc.) 

7. If you could make just one change to Tumblr, and the change was absolutely permanent, what would it be? 

8. Your most recent OTP and your very first OTP meet. What happens? Do they get along? What do they talk about?

9. If you could have any kind of fictional creature as a pet EXCEPT a dragon or a unicorn, what would you pick? 

10. What is your favorite article of clothing that you’re currently wearing? Is it a funky hat? A sparkly ring? A pair of boots? 

Tagging @only-freakin-sunflowers @ambigiousgelpens @halfthealphabet @incendiaglacies @itspetitfantomestuff @crazytwist09 @supesofherown @electricbluebutterflies @e7y1 and @poorlymadesockpuppet, but only if you want!

[wordtowords]

Aiding Ukraine: Abstract vs. Concrete

abstract - adjective - existing in thought but not having a physical or concrete existence (Google).

concrete - adjective - existing in material form (Google).

Before retiring, I spent much time in various classrooms teaching my students of English the difference between abstract and concrete since literature blends both in symbolism. A symbol is usually a physical object that can be experienced via the senses, yet beneath the surface, it harbors profundity. Most things that surround us can possess larger meanings, but many of us are too busy living the day to day to notice, except when something egregious, such as the Russian invasion of Ukraine, interrupts the day to day, and we are forced to think creatively with a specific purpose in mind.

Since we feel individually incapable of taking concrete actions to thwart the dirty tangible business occurring in Ukraine, we are leaning back on abstractions, notably sunflowers, representative of the fertile country that apparently grows them in abundance. I can't tell you how many Facebook posts I've seen emphasizing the Jurassic-tall flowers with leonine heads, advertising solidarity. Some of the posts also include the Ukrainian flag as a concrete marker just in case some people are in the woods regarding the photographs of the verdant, orange fields and their intention. It's all good, of course. Believe me, I'm all for subtle or blatant reminders to stand behind a small nation that is, at present, at the mercy of autocrat Putin, his band of greedy Russian oligarchs, mercenaries and other unfriendly usurpers, including the regular recruits in the army. Yet I can't help but ask, "Is posting abstract visuals on social media all that we can do?" Nope. We can definitely do more.

Fortunately, a friend and former colleague (leave it to the English teachers to step into the door of altruism) emailed me that the World Central Kitchen (worldcentralkitchen.org) is in the midst of accepting donations, which will enable it to feed Ukrainian refugees pouring into neighboring, neutral countries like Poland. At last, there is something concrete as opposed to abstract that we can do to make things just a teensy bit more tolerable for these poor people. Perhaps we can't stand in the way of the plummeting bombs, but we can help feed the hungry stomachs that have managed to skirt them. If this entry sounds like a commercial, maybe it is. Donate generously to any of the organizations risking lives to save lives. When it comes to war, the concrete means can mean more than the abstract.

#word of the day, #vocabulary, #writers, #writers and poets, #words, #inspiration, #optimism, #inspiring words, #humor, #spilled thoughts, #motivation, #inspirational thoughts, #inspiration, #inspirational words, #words of wisdom, #affirmation, #optimism, #poets and writers, #writers community, #writers, #readers #writing

[eulerian-circus]

My finger slipped

Cross posted on AO3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/15187439)

Fandom: Legend of the Galactic Heroes

Ship: Annerose x Oberstein

There were few pictures of their mother, a camera shy doll who was unlucky enough to grow into beauty rather than be born with it. Their father had loved her long before her looks had matured and arguably, they never had -Caribelle von Musel had been an budding rose destined to never reach full bloom. By the time of her death, she had merely graduated from plain to attractive, a label that was offered only tentatively considering her two pregnancies. Born to rags and buried in rags, she had been an unfulfilled princess, one of those soft-hearts that cried out for a savior who never came. Annerose remembered her with love-laced pity, sorrow for the woman who had never truly managed to live but also frustration that she had been content to merely be the damsel of somebody else’s story.  

Reinhard cared little for Caribelle. He, of course, mourned the mother who died when he was young but only the idea of her, not the woman herself and her hopes and dreams -or rather, her lack of them. If he had, then Annerose preferred to believe that he would not adore her the way that he did, setting his dear sister higher up the golden pedestal on which she had lived her life. It was not his fault; he could not possibly know that the gilded cage of the Goldenbaum dynasty had been superfluous, that the addition of a second kind of bondage affected her not at all. She had even almost been happy, all desires muted under an onslaught of undeserved comfort and beautiful baubles.

Their father had often said that Annerose looked like their mother. Looking into the mirror, she was terrified to find it true. With every passing year, it became more obvious that Caribelle was filling the crevices of her life. Annerose had inherited more than her looks; she had inherited her role in the story as well. However, unlike her mother, Annerose had been “rescued” by not one but two knights: her brother and his best friend. She had wanted neither.

Of the two, Kircheis had been the one who teetered on the brink of recognizing that she did not need them. Annerose grieved for the loss of his kind insight, that her brother had dragged him to the frontlines where he died after she had entrusted that beautiful boy to him. He had treated her gently, yes, but it was the gentleness of politeness, not self-imposed duty. If this were a story, she would mourn, too, for the loss of a great love. The truth, however, was that she had made her peace with it long ago. Billions died in war -she could not afford to be optimistic and think either of them would have survived. And, for all his prowess and ambitions, she still doubted whether or not Reinhard would ever be laid to rest in Odin’s rich earth. For the younger brother who had loved her unconditionally, she feared that he would meet the same fate as the countless soldiers who had given up their lives and right to be retrieved and properly interred.

How she envied Magdalena, her strength and her wit! If she had been born a man, the entire empire would have been eating out of the palm of her hand.  Where Magdalena went, so did the sun. Annerose herself was merely the moon, a poor, pale reflection of something bright and worthy. She was Caribelle -struck by one great tragedy before becoming the personification of it. That single event superposed itself over the rest of their lives.

Bitterly, Annerose thought that if Reinhard had really loved her at all, he would have come to see her despite her expressed wish that he not. His brotherly duty done, however, he had left her to fade in the shadows, forgotten. When the curtain fell, that was the common ending of a fairytale.

She retreated to the estate that the Kaiser had previously granted her, learning to turn the cage into the garden of her life. With a critical eye, she went through the entourage of servants that were part of the furniture and dismissed them until only a handful remained. The rest, she sent to her brother, pettily letting it become his problem. Then, she she packed away her long, flowing gowns and dug up the more practical knee-high skirts and sleeveless blouses she had once worn in her youth. Thirty years of existence loomed in the distance but more than ever, she felt like the girl who played dress-up with her mother’s scarves and laughed as she helped her baby brother take his first steps.

There was little work to be done on the estate: that was why Annerose took it upon herself to reinvent the entire property. The flowerbeds were to be torn out and replaced with different flora and patterns, the fountains were to be moved. There would be walls knocked down, walls built up, and stairs leading to a yet-to-be-made observation deck on the roof.

In the first week, she dug up the flowers and plotted where the new ones would rest. There would be no roses, the Kaiser’s favorite, in this garden. Roses were beautiful, deceivingly dangerous things that existed to be devoured in little rosewater cakes or decapitated for the sake of a single evening’s accessory. She planted practical greenery instead - sunflowers where the roses were, tomato plants were there had once been azaleas, and carrots to mark the divides between different species. Refusing the help of her servants for anything more than transporting the little plants, the work was hard and lonely. Like the garden sprouting at her hands, she was alive.

When the gardens were finished, Annerose took a day off to bask in the satisfaction of personal achievement.It was then she remembered that Magdalena had moved off planet to assist with the reconstruction of planets which had been damaged during Alliance occupation. With nobody to share her accomplishments with, she idly deliberated whether or not to ring her brother and ultimately decided not to. He was Kaiser now; he needed no permission from anybody to come calling. Instead, she inquired about the number of a certain admiral to whom she felt she owed a belated favor and waited.

At noon the next day, His Excellency the Chief of Staff, Fleet Admiral Oberstein appeared promptly at her doorstep. She showed him in with little fanfare, seating them both in a blue drawing room she intended to paint green. The cost of the tea she served could have fed a peasant family for a year -it was a leftover gift from noble looking to get deeper into the previous Kaiser’s favor. Neither of them touched it. As the liquid cooled, she started to knit at blanket of soft, fluffy wool and they spoke of ordinary things that she could have learned herself from a newspaper. The fleet admiral asked her eventually why she had called for him. Because she, too, could be as obstructive as he, Annerose gave him an open invitation to visit and let him on his way.

A month later, with no sign of Oberstein, the garden was in bloom. Pollen from the newly planted fruit trees weighed down the air stickily. It was a bad time to have decided to repaint the rooms but that was just what Annerose did, opening every window in the estate to let the walls air. Having never done a project of this scale before, the first layers of paint were ugly and filled with bubbles, spilling over the edges of the rooms and onto the ground and ceiling. She learned quickly that, even with an apron on, she had best wear clothes which would not be missed.

Three days into her painting project, Annerose fell off of a ladder and broke her wrist. Under the pain and tears, she was mainly surprised. It was the first time she had ever broken a bone but not the first she had tried to take care of a break. This was what Reinhard’s childhood was like, she realized a little later. Full of bruises and broken bones, most received on her behalf for being the Kaiser’s whore. More and more, she felt as if she were an actual person, the needle of reality violating her stagnant, cushioned life. Thoughtfully, she refused the help of a doctor, wrapped up her wrist, and continued painting. She was halfway done repainting the blue-now-mostly-green drawing room when a frantic servant poured in through the doorway. At his heels, Oberstein gave the entire room an impassive once-over, his gaze settling briefly on her injured wrist.

Annerose offered him vegetables from her garden -which he declined- and, in a fit of rebellion, insisted that he stay for dinner. The affair could have taken place in a graveyard for all the deep silence which permeated the table. She asked nothing of her brother and he did not offer. As before, she took up her knitting in between the last course and dessert. The severity was broken only once she had shown him to the door. He took one step forward and then paused, his back towards her.

When he spoke, his voice was flat. “I killed Admiral Kircheis,” he said, and disappeared into the darkness before she could respond.

That night, she lay in her night dress on a comfortable couch, staring at the freshly painted ceiling and thinking about his words. “I killed Admiral Kircheis”, he had said. Annerose wondered if his veneer of cruelty was just as obvious to the rest of the admiralty. Blanketed by the shadows, she mouthed two responses she could have given him and felt no pang of regret.

A doctor came for her the very next morning. She wondered.

Slowly, the rooms came alive with all the colors of the rainbow. She had abandoned the premise of painting entire rooms the same color and decided to simply paint each wall on its own. The drawing room sported one wall of its original sapphire blue, one of green, and two opposing walls of warm brown-red, the color of familiar eyes. It was only then she wrote the message she had been thinking of for the last few days, scripting it with an elegant, curling hand that looked more like art than writing.

”I do not care,” she wrote, and sent it as it was, unsigned. That she did not immediately receive a reply bothered her not at all. Annerose was a patient woman.

Despite her patience, however, she broke her schedule out of sheer curiosity. “I am going out this afternoon,” she announced to her maid, a mousy girl with quick eyes but a slow tongue. “Alone.” A warmth spread through her at the words, as well as a thrill of excitement. It had been years since she had taken a look around the city in person, longer since she had the freedom to spontaneously decide just to go. When she had prepared herself, however, she found a contingent of soldiers standing at attention in the courtyard.

“I could hardly take all of you with me,” she said to the crowd. “Please tell your commanding officer to come here. I will talk to him about it.” In the meantime, she put a strawberry and rhubarb pie in the oven. Within thirty minutes, Oberstein himself emerged from a car, just as the Annerose was taking out the pie and setting out it to cool.

“Oh good, you’re just on time,” she said, herding him to the kitchen before he could protest. Though she had to force it, there was soon a plate in his hand with a heavy, steaming slice of pie. “After setting spies up in my household, the least you can do for me is try my cooking.”

He stared at her impassively. “Your safety is of the utmost priority,” he drawled. “The Kaiser would be distraught if you were to come to harm and as is, you are a major target for his enemies. It would be unwise for me to ignore such a danger.” But he did take a tiny piece of pie.

“Very well,” she said calmly. “If you are volunteering your services as my guard for the day, then I will have to accept.” The resulting look on his face, the barest flicker of protest running across it gave her great joy.

Two hours later, she was wandering her old grounds, greeting the faces she recognized and introducing herself to the ones that she did not. Oberstein hovered at her elbow like a shadow, dressed in civilian wear for once to avoid attention. It was specifically because he sought to avoid attention that she put her arm through his and physically forced him to her side. In the back of her mind, she thought of her parents, her father constantly trailing her mother out of old-fashioned chivalry, something that had made Caribelle blush prettily with happiness. Annerose remembered being told that one day, she would find a love to fill the same scenario, being simultaneously higher than any virtue a man could aspire to but also lower in status by every measure. Serenely, she smiled at his stoicism, taking note of the brief moment when his eyes widened ever so slightly. At the end of the day, she led him right back to the kitchen and wrapped up half the pie for him to take home.

“You gain nothing from this.” Oberstein told her, the next time she saw him. He stood right at the boundary of the estate, watching as she wrestled with the weeds.

Even with a generously wide-brimmed hat on, she could feel her skin overheated by the sun. “Explain,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow with a handkerchief.

“I am useful to the Kaiser,” he said. “I am useless to you.”

She considered him for a moment, eyes running up and down his still form. There was more grey in his dark hair than she last remembered. “I hope my brother does not work you too hard.”

“The Empire must come first,” he said. “It does not matter what happens to me.”

Annerose looked at the weed in her hand. It was a small, white flower, blooming in the wrong place at the wrong time. Feeling daring, she stood to her full height and, swaying forward, kissed him gently on the side of the mouth. Under her lips, she felt him shift uneasily.

“Then we are the same,” she declared after drawing away. His facade had broken; there was a faint expression of alarm splattered across his face. “Because I have already fulfilled my purpose, have I not?” The admiral said nothing more and after a while, she heard the sound of his footsteps slowly recede into the distance.

It came to her shortly after that she had read this story before, both of theirs. She was the princess of the tale and he the villain, the one that the hero merely had to be better than in order to win his prize of a kingdom, a marriage, and power. ”I do not care” she repeated to herself silently. In her bones, Caribelle slumbered.

[yeoldontknow]

Equinox

Author’s Note: OKAY i know this wasnt meant to go up until some time next month, but i just woke up and felt this prompt down into my soul. ive been SO SOFT, thanks to a mercury in retrograde. so i worked on it today and now im deceased because i love it a lot. as usual, my snapshot style doesnt really lend itself to whole world building. so OP i hope this makes you happy!

Pairing: Minseok x Reader (oc; female)

Summary: It’s winter when you stumble into Minseok’s coffee shop, winter when he’s cold, unfeeling, and disheartened with the seasons. Little does he know, you are the winds of change.

Rating: PG-13

Warning: implied sex

Word Count: 2,247

WINTER

The day he met you was the day she left.

He was awake when it happened, the slow gathering of her things into one small duffel and the calm, empty declaration that she would come back later for the rest. The motivation to move eluded him, his muscles opposed to following her, reaching for her, calling out to her in a reckless sort of indignation. It wasn’t that he was angry, wasn’t that he was caught in despair, rather that he couldn’t find it in him to care. Not really, not after everything had been said and felt into ash.

She did not take his heart with her. No, he’d retrieved that long ago somewhere in the changing of the seasons. What she took instead was his empathy, his willingness to give love freely. With her, it had died, withered over the course of many years until all he had was an apathetic sort of affection, the kind he said with words he didn’t mean.

Long after she was gone, when the grey light of the morning spilled through the curtains of his window, he sat upright on his bed and regarded the way the room remained unchanged. As if she had gone on vacation. As if she had gone to visit family. As if she would return. He glanced sidelong at his disenchanted life with a scowl, waiting for colour to return to the walls, the room, his heart, his life. Winter was like that, he supposed, a succubus both of good intentions and the gold of the sun.

A cold rain had spilled over the city, frigid in its intent to cleanse the street, his shop, his memory, perhaps even his heart. The storm looked as he felt, bitter in its deluge and bleak in its sentiments. People bustled in and out, grim and scowling, shaking the rain from their hair and hats, gloved hands clutching warm drinks and placing tips in the jar as thanks. The world was moving and turning, but his world was stopping.

You pushed through the door with a laugh, even though you were alone. Melodic and gleeful, you stumbled through with a light that made him feel as though he was eclipsing the sun. It wasn’t that you blinded him, it was simply that you warmed him, touched something inside him that felt dusty and untouched with your smile. It wasn’t that you blinded him, it was simply that you moved him, however insignificant it had been at the start.

When you ordered your coffee, you told him a lot of things: you told him you were lucky to have found his shop, you told him you were new to the city, you told him you weren’t used to rain in winter. You told him a lot of things but he told you nothing, simply nodded and watched the way you eyed the croissants with a passionate sort of stare. He gave you one for free, though, even now, he is unsure why.

What he remembers most clearly, though, was your yellow hat. Truthfully, it told him more about you than any of the words you had given him. It told him that you rejected black as a winter shade, defying all the rules of the season as though they didn’t pertain to you. It told him that you would stand out in a crowd, easy for him to find and easy for him to see, yet, somehow, you had found him first. It told him that luck came in many shapes and sizes, and on that day, it came in the form of a smile.

On you, he decided, winter didn’t look right. It tried to move around you, bend you, and change you, but you were steadfast in your refusal to succumb to the gloom. On you, winter didn’t look right, and so gave you a star in the foam of your coffee instead of the seasonal snowflake. And the look you gave him when you saw it, the way your mouth pulled into a wide, cheshire cat grin, kept his insides warm well past the melting of the last flake on the earth.

SPRING

The trees were restless in their anticipation of and desire to bloom, similar to the way he had grown restless in his anticipation of seeing you. It took him a week to ask for your name, three realize that yellow hat was a staple of your wardrobe, and only two days for the hope you would become a regular customer to blossom in his chest like a sunflower.

The playfulness in his tone was half serious, perhaps mostly serious, when he asked if you kept coming back to see him. The playfulness in yours was absent when you said you did. That was his Valentine’s gift, two words and a fistful of implication. He clung to it past the Ides of March, too nervous to test the waters again, but when you came through the shop at the start of April, tights and a skirt and the freedom of your skin beneath the spring sun, he stopped thinking of you has a lucky star and more as a beacon.

You never ordered the same thing twice, spent weeks working your way through the menu, and he spent lonely nights coming up with new blends and flavors just for you. He said you were off the menu, and you said it was an odd nickname but you liked it, took ownership of it the way one takes ownership of their dreams. There was no way you could know truly unexpected you were, unpredictable and unplanned, and wholly surprising. There was no way you could know that your ease into the name turned you from someone special into someone remarkable.

He thought you were brave, then, in all the ways he wasn’t. Wild, free, alive.

You never ordered the same thing twice and every week, tucked tightly beneath your arm was a different book. One week was Hemmingway and another was Danielewski, your mind moving between eras and genres as if time was your plaything. Most would be impressed, many would be surprised, but he expected it of you. The laws of the universe were blown apart by you, your uninhibited originality turning them to dust at your feet.

You never ordered the same thing twice and every week had a different book beneath your arm, so when he questioned what your favourite was, for both the book and the coffee, he thought for sure you’d have an answer or an opinion. You did, but your even diplomacy, kind eyes and your soft tongue, made his heart stutter in its rhythm.

How could I choose, you asked, when every work of art is perfect?

With a laugh, he told you to remain subjective, and you said you were, that it was unfair to judge a thing that bent to subjective will. For hours - hours alone and hours in bed - he thought about that, thought about you and what it meant to be perfect, subjective, and inspiring. Days later, he would work up the courage to ask if you thought he was perfect based on your prior argument.

You said he was.

Days after that, he asked if you thought you were perfect. You bit your lip for a long while in thought, remaining humble while also too wise for your young years. Finally, you said, someone must think so. There was a knowing look to your gaze, a fire deep within your irises that emboldened him.

Instead of your name on the cup, he wrote his number.

Instead of a flower in the foam, he made a heart.

SUMMER

Hand holding in the heat of July always made him uncomfortable, made his skin sweat and slick with too many things that were beyond his control. Always, he would pull away with a shake of his fingers, wiping away the sweat, the person, the sensation of being swollen with purpose from his joints. Always, he would say, I know you are mine and affection can wait until we are not damp with the fever. He would never clarify which heat he meant, the weather or his wanting. He never wanted his partner to feel let down.  

With you, it was different. It isn’t that he expected it to be, or even wanted it to be - he had grown into notions of romance, unchanged and unmoved in his age based on the ideas of what he liked, what he wanted, and what he had experienced. The same way you broke the laws of the universe, you broke all the laws he had set for himself.

On your first date, he wanted to kiss you, and you let him. You surrendered to it first with your heart, and then with your mouth, and he swallowed all of it whole.

On the first day of the summer heatwave, he had reached for your hand and shivered the feel of your wet skin. It brought him back to the day you first met, your hand cooling him and pouring over him like a storm.

In the sweltering humidity of July, he layed with you on a blanket and told you he loved you, loved all the parts of you he knew and had yet to discover. The secret parts, he said, were the most exciting and the most beautiful.

In the sweltering humidity of July, you told him you loved him too.

That night, his air conditioner broke. It rumbled to a halt and let the evening sun pour into the bedroom, turning the walls into a greenhouse that blossomed with orange, red, and devotion. He thought of it that way, as he made love to you, sweating into the sheets as he held your hand, tasted your skin, licked the perspiration from your brow. He thought of it that way, as he moved within you and let you move within him, filling all the empty parts of him that had been temporarily sealed until he could feel again. Until he could feel you.

Hand holding in the heat of July made him uncomfortable, but with you, he didn’t think there was ever a time when he’d get enough of your skin. It wasn’t that he wanted to hold your hand, he wanted to hold all of you, completely, with all of him until there was no way to tell where he ended and you began.

Some time in May you stopped ordering hot coffee, switching instead to iced drinks, drinks in which he couldn’t leave images in the foam.

Not that it mattered. He’d started leaving marks of his love on your skin well before the season, and those were far less transient.

AUTUMN

Autumn was unprecedented, simply because you were in it. True, it was always his favourite and always took him by surprise, how brilliant the world became, but watching you move through the death of the world made him start to believe in magic. He’d spent seasons with you thinking this was it, that there was no way he could love you any more than he already did. That there was no way you could look better in a season than the one that came before it. But always, you did.

Always, you did.

Two weeks into October, he decided that Autumn looked best on you, your hair, your skin, your lips. Still, the yellow had remained but it made all the world around you gold. Brown didn’t exist in this new world, instead you turned it burgundy, plum, and bronze. For him you made the world into all the best shades, made apples more crimson, made the night more purple than black. That was the trick, he thought, your magic was the slow making and taking of the world, the giving of life and the taking away to leave behind something more profound, something more desirable in its wake.

Cinnamon was how he came to describe the season, the smell of it in the air as you baked and the taste of it on your skin as he kissed you, hungry for the light that splayed across your shoulders, your back, your neck. Cinnamon was what he started to call you, changing your name each season to match your whim. It lingered in his bones, even when the cold wind threatened to steal it from his tongue. It lingered in his heart, even when the days grew shorter and the frost grew stronger.

He started brewing his coffee with cinnamon, feasting on you even when you weren’t there, gone from him to move throughout your day, until he could have you at night. As a consequence, the shop smelled like you, long into the day, until the first customers of the evening rush arrived. Drunk on the memory you, he would serve and laugh easier, smile brighter, feel more like the man he left behind in winter.

Always, you would come to him before the end of his shift, making you the last coffee he would serve.

Always, you would order something different, something to keep him on his toes.

Always he made you a snowflake in the foam, his way of letting you know he was ready. Ready to see what you could make of destruction. Ready to see how you would make a rainbow of the white.

Always, you were the changing tide of the seasons of his heart.

[muldertxf]

Dark Fear, Chapter 1

A case file fic. Mulder and Scully investigate a couple's unique encounter with a spooky black-eyed being in Nevada. Set during season 5.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Bright pink neon bounced excitedly off the face of Dan Lemmings. Propped by one arm against the metal support beam of the rest stop sign, he stood at a slight angle, admiring his surroundings in pure glee. Any other night, he’d have donned a cap out of embarrassment to mask his balding cranium, but tonight was different. The stars were out. A warm, playful breeze dusted the bare ground. He and his wife had just been on a wonderful vacation. An aura of bliss was spread on the air like a lovely thick butter. He basked in it.

“Cheryl, you out yet?” His gaze floated to the bright restrooms, that sat canopied against the neon by a cluster of palm trees. The doors had male and female aliens painted on them coinciding with the sex of the restroom. Nevada crickets chirped merrily against the peaceful backdrop. “Damn,” he mumbled, smiling. If he had to wait out here for another twenty minutes, he wouldn’t be too opposed.

Dan Lemmings’ mind floated to that of baseball. His favorite player was Chuck Finley. Dan visualized himself in the place of Finley. The pale metal support beam he leaned on was a giant baseball bat. The copious trilling that the crickets swarmed him with at that very moment was rapturous applause. The pink flash of neon was a camera’s bulb. He chuckled.

“Danny?” A woman meekly beckoned, emerging from the little aliens’ room. She clacked over to Dan, her purple pumps echoing eagerly off the cooled pavement. She gazed down briefly, straightening out her leather skirt, then smiled at Dan. “Decor never gets old, eh?” She joked, gesturing over to the restroom doors.

After living in Reno, Nevada for nearly 15 years together, one can grow accustomed to the extraterrestrial aesthetic that store owners cling to for tourist money. Dan looked up, his baseball bat falling to the wayside, and the neon sign returning to its normal, non-camera bulb state. The crickets grew less excited.

The woman’s cold, manicured grasp extended out to Dan, and stroked his right cheek. Her eyesight was trained on his forest green parka. A bent, tiny yellow tag stuck out from a bulky sleeve on his parka. “You never pulled the tag off, dear?” She said, batting a lock of bleached blonde hair out of her face. Her heel enhanced height left her at a disadvantaged, and she lobbed them off to her right. The dense plastic clicked against cement. She knelt down a bit, examining the tag. “We can pull that off right here,” The woman said, the r in “right” rolling off her tongue like a mischievous rattlesnake.

The crickets silenced.

Dan gritted his teeth. “Look at me.” The woman ignored him, continuing to fiddle with the tag. He cleared his throat. “I said, look at me.” The choleric tone in his voice ripped voraciously through the bubble of silence like a greedy child. The woman slowly raised her head to meet his. Her eyes were pure black. “Y-you-you’re not. Cheryl. You are not Cheryl!”

Dan Lemmings stumbled backward, further into the small garden he had been standing in that held the sign. Adrenaline strangled him. He gasped sharply against the dry dirt as he collapsed into it, unable to look away from the pool of black that recided in the being’s eye sockets. The thing stood stagnant, flecks of happy pink reflecting in its dark eyeballs. Fear loomed over Dan with an axe at its side, a vengeful grip on the handle. A numbness torpedoed down his spine. With one final vehement sigh, he head dropped with an empty thud to the dirt. He drew his last breath.

The black-eyed being eyed Dan blankly. The man lay motionless among the pushed up daisies that surrounded his body. The small daisies bent around his form in concern, like a team of surgeons quarreling beneath hospital light. Meanwhile, crickets were still shocked into silence.

The being’s gaze finally relinquished the man. With an abrupt flick of the wrist and waist bend, it quickly collected the purple heels. Not-Cheryl dashed with a slight skip outside of the familiar glow of the rest stop, and into the opaque inkiness of the desert. The stars didn’t dare to touch it.

Billboards raced with wispy streaks of clouds, as power lines hopped and leaped cheerily under the overbearing sun. Scully droped her head tiredly with a thump against the rental car’s headrest. She thought back to the Flukeman case that they’d encountered four years ago. She’d take that one in a heartbeat right now, she thought, tapping her manicured digits on the dashboard. Her stomach flip-flopped as they hit a pothole, and her rhythmic tapping snaps Mulder out of his steely squint to see the road.

“We’re in Reno, Nevada, Scully.”

She doesn’t look at him, instead choosing to scratch her damp scalp. Her glance drifts over to the horribly disfigured bumper of the vehicle adjacent to theirs. She wouldn’t be surprised if the disfigurement had happened as a result of the simmering temperature, and not a collision. Her head turned to him, finally. “I can see that, Mulder. I can feel it, too,” She grumbled, a smile hinted at her lips. “You know, just admit it. We’re only out here because of the proximity to Area 51. You could have taken any of the other cases A.D. Skinner recommended to us. But you chose this one.”

Mulder turned back to the bright strip of grey that stretched to the horizon. It was beginning to look almost white to him. “Hey, can I have my sunglasses?”

Scully shuddered internally, because she knew the exact ones he was referring to. The gigantic, obnoxious lensed pair that had a thin navy wire to hold it all together. She rifled through his duffel bag that sat between them, on the dusty floor. Sure enough, between a pair of black dress pants and atop a baby blue t-shirt, lay the wretched pair. He had told her that he thought they oozed a “mysterious appeal.” Scully knew that was Mulder-talk for “I think they make me look like a cool alien.”

Scully let out an exasperated sigh, and tapped the pair to the narrow steering wheel to get his attention. He quickly looked over, then threw them on in relief. “Mysterious?”

“Foolish,” Scully said, unsuccessfully stifling a grin. “Anyway...the case,” She said, now gripping the file that had been carelessly thrown to the floor an hour ago, “A man claims he saw a black eyed being masquerading as his wife while she was in the restroom. The man described a horrible dread washing over him along with a strong sense of fear that he has, quote, ‘never felt before’ un-quote, in his life. He dies on the scene, only to miraculously come to life a day later. His wife never saw a thing.” She looked up from the casefile, and back at her partner once more. “Well, what do you make of this?” Mulder stared ahead at the grey stretch, wordless. “Mulder…”

“In short? I think this casefile is promising for extraterrestrial meat.” Mulder said, popping a sunflower seed into his mouth with his left hand. “The police officer that filed the report also said he was at the scene and saw a bizarre object in the sky, hovering just approximately 50 feet off the ground. This is the stuff of Project Blue Book.”

Scully smiled into her own reflection in the passenger side window. “Please don’t ever utter the words ‘extraterrestrial meat’ in my presence ever again.”

Mulder looked at her again, turning the car into a side street. “What do you think of the man dying of fright, then coming back to life, though? Pretty uncommon, almost supernatural. Like the rising of Jesus. That must interest you from a medical stand-point.”

Buildings and dwellings began to crop up like weeds. The generic desert backdrop began to fade, and in its place, a town began to take form. It was a nice respite from the drab desert scenery, that was for sure.

“Uncommon, yes, supernatural, no.” She side-eyed him, raising an eyebrow. “The massive rush of adrenaline that Dan Lemmings experienced in his fright temporarily stunned his cardiac heart muscle into inaction. Lemmings is also of age 57, and overweight, thus putting him even moreso at risk for this sort of unfortunate occurance. Any highly emotional event whether positive or negative can set this kind of thing off. The human body is amazingly resilient, sometimes it can bounce back even aft--”

“But we don’t know what ‘highly emotional event’ did this to this man,” Mulder interrupted, easing the car into a big, bright neighborhood.

“And you think it’s aliens.”

The tall agent simply offered a shrug. With their trek over, he yanked the keys out of the ignition, threw his long limbs out of the car with a loud sigh of relief, and shot straight up. It felt good to be out of that hot box. He looked back at his partner. The poor-red head drenched in sweat. Her normally tidy, copper locks were now frizzy and damp, and he looked down at the hot pavement, guilty.

She flung open the car door in defeat.

“Well, we should question them now, shouldn’t we?”