#black tea rinse for Gray hair

[angelfoxx]

Coddling Keegan while giving him a handjob😖😖he’s cuddled up to you, head buried in your neck while your hand pumps his cock slow nd sloppy, whines a little when you pay attention to his tip, rubbing it with your thumb, “feels good, baby? Hm?” While ruffling his hair❤️❤️

“You wanna cum, sweet boy? Yeah?” You murmur, practically babying him🫶🫶

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ❝ SWEET BOY? ❞

…in which a very tired keegan gets special treatment.

FEATURING: keegan p russ (duh)

WARNINGS: obviously nsfw. mild overstim. mentions of crying. whoopsie

NOTE/S: hi anon hope u know i read this and my stomach clenched up. sorry just thought u should be aware

“Feel good?” Your voice is just a soft murmur, sickeningly sweet and practically dripping in endearment. “Is that good, Kee?”

The only response you get is a breathy half-groan.

Poor Keegan. Genuinely. He’d come back from what he dubbed a shit mission this past afternoon; nothing too risky. Just a job that the “regular” recruits hit a wall with. A job that he had to go finish, because apparently the general force couldn’t get the fucking thing done.

His next assignment? Tomorrow afternoon. Approximately twelve hours from now, he’d be out again.

The poor guy was fucking exhausted. Hell, he’d called you that morning from the bed of the truck, and…you know why he had to go, you know that it’s his job and all, but…Christ, he’d sounded so tired. Tired and strained and done. Every nerve in your body had been screaming at you to fawn over him the minute he got home; a warm bath, a hot mug of tea (black). Some soup, bowl steaming. Hell, you’d been wringing your hands together at the mere thought of washing his hair. It had become a regular practice at this point; whenever he came back from an assignment, you’d be there to give him a soft landing upon arriving home.

This time around, you didn’t have the time for that. Despite his arguments, you’d probably have a word with whatever shit-for-brains commander had been in charge of putting him on back-to-back assignments.

To focus on the task at hand. Or in hand, rather. Keegan had told you he didn’t want all of the fancy stuff; tea, sure. Soup, sure. The bath and everything? No, he’d just shower.

He wanted a hot mug of tea, a bowl of soup, and then he wanted you to make him feel better in the best way you knew how.

Hence; your current position.

You hadn’t even made it to the bed. Keegan hadn’t even finished his fucking soup. He’d been staring into it like a ghost; gaze vacant, face empty, eyeblack staining his skin charcoal-gray. Hell, the man had just thrown whatever clothes he could find on; just a plain white tee and sweats. For once, he hasn’t been careful with his gear; he’s got it slung haphazardly across the chair beside him. His fucking rifle is sitting on the thing like it’s also eating soup.

He didn’t have to say much. He just kind of shifted and looked you in the eye; sat back, opened his legs a little wider.

Upon swinging a leg over him and sitting in his lap, Keegan had all but deflated.

He’d smelled like soap. Kind of tasted like it, too. Either he had scrubbed off a layer of skin in the shower or he’d just neglected to fully rinse all of the shampoo out of his hair. Either way, you didn’t mind; the fact that he smelled vaguely of vanilla (because for some reason he continued to take your shampoo and not use his own) and he was just slumped back in the chair, weakly holding onto your head as you littered a trail of little marks along his throat…

…oh, sweet boy.

He thought the pet name was stupid. Usually. He’d laugh at you if you called him by it in most situations; the day he’d apparently decided it was safe enough to kiss you goodbye before he boarded the plane to head out on an assignment, you’d called him a sweet boy and Keegan, fully geared up in his vest and helmet with probably five different weapons strapped on around his waist, had just whistled and hummed in response.

Sweet boy, carrying a rifle and a knife and god-fucking-knows-what-else.

Now, though, he doesn’t complain. Either because he’s too tired to or because, right now, even he knows that it’s fitting. Big, beefy soldier, pretty blue eyes rolled back, pretty pink lips parted and pretty little mouth too tired to fight the quiet little noises that would normally remain buried under his tongue. His brow knits, and his nostrils flare, and — oh — his chest rises and his breath hisses in through his nose.

A fat pearl of pre swells up on his tip for a moment before you run your thumb over it and spread it across the blunt round of his cockhead.

It’s not fair to him. Maybe. You’re going so slow and you’re just lazily stroking him but he doesn’t seem to mind. Oh, not at all. His brow knits and his mouth opens a little further; he lets out a short, hoarse breath, chest puffing up before it shudders back down and the muscles along his neck flex.

“Deep breaths, Kee.” You lean forward, kissing the side of his cheek and biting back a grin when his entire body shudders. “Easy.”

“I’m ff…fffuckin’ trying.” Keegan’s voice is rough, strained breathlessly thin. “I’m ff…uhhhckin’ trying, princess, but…”

“Can’t?” You smile, body shuddering. “Aw. Sweet boy.”

Keegan tries to shoot you a glare. He tries. One squeeze of your hand closing over his cockhead has him tensing up again, head tipping back and jaw clenching up as he bites back another groan.

You don’t say anything. You could tease him more (hell, you’d be jumping at the chance any other time), but right now he’s almost pitiful. Sore, exhausted, run-down and on a tight deadline to head back out tomorrow.

The man deserves a break. He doesn’t deserve to be mocked. So you keep your mouth shut (at least, in regards to taunting him) and you tease your thumb over his slit in slow little circles.

Keegan’s body shudders. From somewhere deep in his chest, he groans, brow knitting and eyes squeezing shut. His hips buck up; his cock slides through your grasp, swollen and slick. He’s aching for release, aching for it; it’s like his self-control has been put out to float on a raft and is just drifting towards total euphoric collapse. His head lolls on his neck; he’s in a daze, exhaustion and pleasure mixing like a dreamy cocktail in his system.

“I’ll get a nice bath ready for you after this assignment. Sound good?” You grin as you swish your thumb over his tip and he stiffens, body wound tight and eyes rolling back in his head. He doesn’t give you a verbal response; he just groans, one of his hands pawing uselessly at your waist. His big hands, gloved hands, rough and callous…

The throaty auh Keegan lets out brings your head back into reality, just in time to see his jaw drop and his pretty lips form a pink O as his eyes squint and his lashes flutter. His cock jerks in your hands, and a dribble of thin pre runs down the joints of your fingers. His hips buck up; under that thin layer of cotton, you feel his abdomen flex tight.

Apparently embarrassed at his own sound, Keegan turns his face towards you. Messily, he thrusts his lips at yours; when your body ripples and your hand flexes, he groans, low and tired into your mouth. His skin is hot; he’s flustered, but he’s too tired to do much about it.

“You gonna fall asleep on me after this?” You manage a quiet laugh. “No real rounds?”

Keegan groans. His voice, when it does manage to come out, is throaty and hoarse. There’s a sort of grumble in his voice, a sort of sleepy drawl that has your knees weak. “Shit, if you want…”

You giggle, biting your tongue when you skim the tips of your fingers over the ridge of his head and he tenses, teeth sinking into his lip. “I don’t think you can, Kee. I really don’t.”

“Shut it.” Though his tone is gruff, a tease of your finger over his leaking slit has Keegan’s head lolling back and his eyes, pretty pools of sapphire blue, roll back as his lashes flutter. “I’ll just lay there. You…nngh…you can just get on top an’…”

Keegan’s body shudders. His shoulders lift off the back of the chair; there’s a tremor deep in his belly that you can feel under your hand as he slumps back again, stomach rolling forward and hips rolling up. His abdomen clenches and sucks in so hard you can see the outline of his abs through his shirt, despite the loose fit.

Close.

You’ve learned his bodily cues by now. He tenses, starts to breathe hard — you can hear air rasping in and out of his nose — and, yeah, he paws around until he can grab onto your wrist, fingers wrapping around the spot right under your hand. He’s funny like that; you wouldn’t catch him dead pitying himself, telling you he was nothing but your little play-thing — but god, the quiver in his hand and the tremor in his breath is so, so far away from dominant. It’s so far away from being in control. If anything, he’s feeling your control; he’s feeling your pulse pick up as you shift on his lap, he’s feeling your arm tense as you bite your lip and stroke quicker, faster, twist your hand, and — oh — he’s gripping tight as you swipe your hand at just the right angle, pull it flush against the base of his cock and pump up and —

The strangled cry that comes out of Keegan’s mouth is strained and loosely contained. His jaw snaps shut, his lips seal; his hips buck up, and there’s a soft scuffle as his feet shove against the ground and his socks give him no traction to hold on.

You see the corded muscle of his neck swell at the same time that you feel a ribbon of something hot and sticky squirt up your forearm.

Five times. Five times, Keegan’s hips jerk up; his head turns either way, and his eyes squeeze shut for the first two jolts. They start to open; they flutter, roll back. Close again for the third. The same goes for the fourth. The fifth, though, his eyes open when his hips twitch, and when you try to meet his gaze you look into bottomless blue hues lidded and vague with euphoria.

The blunt edges of his nails dig into your wrist right under a streak of cum. The stuff strings your arm and webs beneath it, threatening to drip onto his thighs. Not that he’d mind, probably. Not now, at least. He’s too weak and tired to really care. Too busy groaning, sound contained deep in his chest, body rippling as pleasure tides over him. Over…and over…and over.

“Feel better?” You prompt the question in a soft voice after a long moment of silence for him to recover. Not that he had any performance issues — just tired, like this, pushed flat-out for too long…he has this worn, beaten look on his face. Barely lifted after everything.

“Yeah.” Despite that, Keegan’s response comes quick; breathless, but quick. His eyes shift over to meet yours, and Christ, if he looked tired before…

“Kee.” The note of pity that leaks into your voice is entirely instinctual. When you lean forward, his breathing staggers; he sort of half-laughs when you run your thumb over his three-fourths lidded eyes, weakly turning away from the contact. “Don’t touch me right now.”

“Kee.” You repeat his name, more seriously this time. “Kee, you look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I’m not.” Keegan shakes his head; as if to prove his point, he shifts a little in his seat, pulling himself slightly more upright.

“You look like it. You look so tired.” You lean forward, this time; it’s an effort to push his hair back, and one that he leans away from. “Keegan. Let me take care of you.”

In response, he only laughs. It’s a tired laugh, one that rasps in his chest, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. When he replies, his tone isn’t serious. “You’ve got it on your hands.”

so sorry for my absence. my cod hyperfixation chilled the fuck out a little whoopsie anyways

[letosmauddib]

Difficult Arrangements pt. II

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x Reader

she/her pronouns

1.9k words! Here is Pt. 1 -

Finally posted after some technical issues! :)

please do not read if you are under 18 ! WARNINGS- SMUT :o - elements of dub-con as there is hesitance/ uncertainty- Feyd is a big cocky meanie & reader is needy :(

Please Like, Comment, Reblog ! pt. III soonish?

“Feeling tired dear na-baroness?” The handmaid asked as she worked through rinsing the fragrant shampoo from her hair. Y/n nodded “The big breakfast is weighing me down I feel quite sleepy..” The handmaid smiled at her before reaching for a towel. “Bath is almost over, you’ll have plenty of time to rest after I dry and brush through your hair.”

Y/n enjoyed most of the moments she got to spend under the care of the handmaids. Her favorite interactions being with her regular caretaker; Duo. The caretakers all shared similar features, petite figures, smooth pale skin and wore head dressings to cover their perfectly smoothed heads. Although they appeared differnt to the caretakers she was entrusted with most of her life. They were a small sliver of home at moments. She wasn’t as trusting with explaining her discomfort/ emotions with the handmaids. They were kind and helpful to her but she knew their loyalty lay with House Harkonnen and to the Na-Baron. She knew that any sign of disaligence from her husband and the Harkonnen could have a terrible outcome for her.

“Are you ready to dress my na-baroness?”

“Yes please, a soft loose dress please?”

She asked as she stood up, wrapping the soft overly-sized towel around her frame. Y/n felt like she was freezing as soon as she stood from the warm water.

“I found a dress to your specifications, let me know if it’s alright.”

Y/n felt the softness of the black fabric, a slip dress that falls right at her knee.

She patted herself dry before allowing Duo to help her slip the dress over her head.

“Let’s get your hair brushed, I’m sure the na-baron is soon to be back from training.” It felt like it had been days since she’d seen her husband, really it was just a few hours. Time moves differently when you don’t have meaningful tasks, at least that’s how she felt.

“My favorite part of my day, my favorite task to do na-baroness.” Duo’s statement pulled her from her thoughts, “Thank you for treating me so kindly Duo.” “My pleasure, always dear na-baroness.” The handmaid stated as she parted through her semi-dried hair.

She laid on her stomach pressing her cheek to the cool satin gray sheets that encompassed the bed she was sprawled on. She was falling into sleep and out, it was becoming torturous not being able to sleep. Just as she was comfortable, a noise beyond the doors to the bedroom seemingly awoke her. It was midday, she had refused to eat anything that was offered to her and Feyd was still not back from training. She wanted to call for Duo to update her somehow but felt it was just unnecessary. Not wanting her husband to mock her or mistake her anxiousness as eagerness to be near him. Duo had insisted that she drink a tea the na-baron had instructed be made for her. Y/n felt herself perk up just a little bit at the mention of Feyd.

She took a few sips, not enjoying the taste but there was an onset warmth that seemingly filled her body. It was nice as it was always so cold in their bedroom, she needed thick blankets to sleep at all. She stared at the remnants of leaves in the cup, realizing she had for the very first time referred to the bedroom as ‘their’ bedroom. She nodded in disapproval to herself.

“I’ll let you rest my dear.”

Duo had adjusted the curtains in the room so the light from the windows was dimmed. She took the cup from her hands and exited the room quietly, the heavy door thudding closed behind her.

Y/n crawled back up to rest in the middle of the bed pulling the thick blanket up to her shoulders. She was drowsier than ever, the warmth she felt comforting. She let her mind wander, how nice it would be for Feyd to hold her close as she slept.

He was the only person she knew in this life besides the handmaids, the only person who knew her at the moment. Her family was so far away, moving on with their lives as if she didn’t exist. At least that was how it felt to be married off like this, like a lamb to slaughter. She didn’t want to weep about it anymore, she had done enough of it the first month.

When she knew no one was watching she would allow herself to cry and to wallow alone. It was a small moment she could feel all that she held in, that was until Feyd had unexpectedly interrupted an emotional moment once before dinner. She remembers how scared she was of him seeing her in tears, she was worried he would punish her violently or force her to tell him what she was crying about either option scaring her shitless.

She acted on instinct, how do you get your husband to ignore a situation and not ask questions. She lifted her night dress up as an offering, whispering for him to take her please. He couldn’t resist her shaky request, he was aroused by her features when she cried: the disheveledness of messy hair, tears down her cheeks and that doey gaze.

It was also the first time she initiated- which drove him wild, a very boyish reaction. He had a hesitant thought as he pulled his cock out of his pants; he was able to read the situation too well. She was upset to the point of tears but was trying to distract him from the situation by offering herself up for sex.

He could be upset and dismiss her, force her to spit out whatever was bothering her… or he could get in a quick fuck before dinner. The whimpers that left her mouth that night made her cringe into the pillow she laid on in present day. She remembered the sound of their bodies as he rutted himself against her. His massive body pressed against her back, holding her against the bed. She felt every intake of breath he took, as she tried and failed to pace her breathing. She whimpered like a wounded animal, as his pace was brutal and the moments it slowed the ache between her legs grew more intense. It felt like he could fuck into her forever, he didn’t show a sign of nearing a climax. She felt a sensation of fullness and the arousal that dripped down her thighs. He let out pleasured groans against her hair, y/n pressed her hand onto his muscular thigh, just to catch her breath. Feyd reacted quickly, gripped both her wrists swiftly and placing them on the bed. “Keep these defiant little hands here.” He grunted, she nodded in agreement instinctively.

Feyd pressed his nose against her neck, taking in her scent. Sweet florals, he liked that she smelled exactly how he wanted her to.

She moved her cheek to try and catch a glimpse of him, her hands shifting but staying on the bed as commanded. Fingers trembling as they gripped the sheets. “Please, Feyd, please??” As his pace sped up, she seemingly slumped against him in exhaustion. Before she could slump down against the bed, he slipped his arms around her waist, holding her close against him. “Come on sweet mouse. Let me fill you up.” She whined in response her knees bucking together, His hand reaching down between her thighs. His slim fingers dipping against her sopping arousal. Her back arched against him, her hands reaching his wrist just as he found her spot. She squirmed and whimpered in pleasure. His fingers finding a contrasting pace to his hips. “Please Feyd, Please sir?! Please!” Feyd howled a taunting laugh at her reaction: “What are you pleading for mouse?”

She nodded her head in dazed confusion to his question she couldn’t see his taunting gaze but felt it against the back of her head.

He knew exactly what she was asking for, and that his sweet wife could not find the words to ask for it. Her hips stammered against his as he taunted her spot and his pace slowed.

He groaned, feeling his climax nearing. “Fucking shit.” He groaned, one hand petting her whilst the other gripped her waist to stillness. She squirmed and moaned against him trying to close her legs around his hand. Feyd pushed her thighs open, she was overstimulated and needy for his cum.

He grunted feeling her clench around him. Feyd sped his pace up, and pressed a kiss to her neck.

He spilled into her with a shaky groan, hands slipping up to hold her stomach. She shuddered and reached down, squirming against him again. “Still.” He commanded as he caught his breath. Her knees instinctively locking to keep his warmth inside her. Y/n’s shaky breath and his deep breath filled the silence in the room. Her hand reached down to her stomach finding his and before she could pull away, his hand gripped her wrist. She had grown the habit since their wedding night to hold her stomach post-sex. That was when her naivety led her to believe it would only need to happen once. “Don’t sit with your thoughts for too long, I don’t need my baroness to be stressing herself into insanity..” She nodded and felt him begin to shift away. She winced, visibly discomforted by him pulling out of her. She laid on the bed in front of her feeling a wave of sad emptiness overtake once more.

Just as she had settled in a deeper sleep, thoughts of that night repeating in her mind. She slowed her breathing, wishing to feel him close. It was an unfamiliar feeling that swept over her.

The doors to their bedroom opened once again. Feyd stepped into the room allowing the large heavy door to close behind him. He was fresh from a shower, a black tunic over his broad shoulders and a matching pair of cotton pants.

Y/n shifted as she was pulled from her sleep, she felt his presence in every room he entered. He glanced over her smaller form before quipping: “Mouse…spending all of your days sleeping, hmm?”

“You’re late from training husband..” She replied, as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Seemingly missed me enough to count the minutes down my dear wife…” He taunted as he walked over to his locked bedside chest.

“No! I-I just though you would be back sooner..” She stammered, feeling her face grown quite warm in embarrassment.

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I had important business to attend to..”

Y/n’s mind raced at the thought of him back in the lower cellars, she had stumbled on the idea that he previously used concubines to satisfy himself. She had hoped he wouldn’t once he was married. His jaw hardened seeing her frown:“My Uncle wanted a word, ended up being a very informative conversation.”

She nodded and pulled her knees up to her chest, still feeling drowsy from the medicine.

“Pouting isn’t very baroness-esque.” He remarked as he pulled his shirt over his head. Y/n felt exhausted from the conversation and irritated with the unfamiliar warmth in her stomach. She needed him, but didn’t want any of the taunting or the teasing he usually objected her to. “Feyd, I was really hope you didn’t come home late and in a taunting mood I really just want to-.” He cut her off, irritated with her tone.

“Y/n, my business as the na-baron is not a concern for you and I’m not going to keep reminding you. Understand your place or I will gladly take you over my knee and remind you of it.”

pt. III soon >:)

[narendra-9761]

Understanding the Causes of White Hair and Natural Prevention Methods

Introduction

White hair is a common sign of aging, but it can also appear prematurely due to various factors. Many people seek natural remedies to prevent or reverse this condition without resorting to chemical treatments. This article explores the causes of white hair and offers easy, natural ways to prevent it, as highlighted on Wellhealthorganic.com.

Causes of White Hair

Aging:

The most common cause of white hair is aging. As we age, the production of melanin, the pigment responsible for hair color, decreases, leading to gray or white hair.

Genetics:

Genetics play a significant role in determining when your hair will turn white. If your parents experienced early graying, chances are you might too.

Vitamin Deficiencies:

Deficiencies in essential vitamins such as B12, D3, and E can lead to premature white hair. These vitamins are crucial for maintaining healthy hair pigmentation.

Oxidative Stress:

Free radicals and oxidative stress can damage melanin-producing cells, leading to white hair. This can be caused by environmental factors, poor diet, and lifestyle choices.

Hormonal Changes:

Hormonal imbalances, especially thyroid issues, can result in premature white hair.

Stress:

Chronic stress is linked to the early onset of white hair. Stress affects the body's overall health and can impact melanin production.

Medical Conditions:

Certain medical conditions, such as vitiligo and alopecia areata, can cause white hair.

Natural Ways to Prevent White Hair

Balanced Diet:

Consuming a diet rich in vitamins and minerals is essential. Foods high in B vitamins, iron, copper, and zinc support healthy hair pigmentation. Include leafy greens, nuts, seeds, and dairy in your diet.

Herbal Remedies:

Certain herbs are known to promote hair health. For instance, Indian gooseberry (amla) is rich in antioxidants and vitamin C, which can help maintain hair color. Drinking amla juice or applying amla oil can be beneficial.

Regular Scalp Massage:

Massaging your scalp with natural oils like coconut oil, almond oil, or bhringraj oil can improve blood circulation and strengthen hair follicles, potentially delaying the onset of white hair.

Reduce Stress:

Managing stress through activities like yoga, meditation, and exercise can positively impact your overall health and help prevent premature graying.

Avoid Harsh Chemicals:

Using mild, natural shampoos and avoiding hair products with harsh chemicals can protect your hair from damage and premature aging.

Stay Hydrated:

Drinking plenty of water keeps your body and hair hydrated, promoting healthy hair growth and pigmentation.

Henna:

Henna is a natural dye that not only colors hair but also conditions it. Regular use of henna can help cover white hair naturally.

Onion Juice:

Onion juice is rich in catalase, an enzyme that can help darken hair naturally. Applying onion juice to your scalp can help in reducing white hair.

Black Tea Rinse:

Black tea contains tannins that can darken hair naturally. Using a black tea rinse can add a subtle, natural color to your hair.

Conclusion

White hair, whether due to aging or other factors, can be managed and potentially delayed through natural methods. By understanding the underlying causes and implementing these easy, natural remedies, you can maintain your hair’s natural color for longer. A balanced diet, stress management, and the use of herbal treatments are key components in this journey.

FAQs

Can white hair turn black again naturally?

In most cases, once hair turns white, it cannot turn black again naturally. However, you can prevent further graying with proper care and nutrition.

Is it safe to use onion juice on the scalp?

Yes, onion juice is generally safe and beneficial for the scalp. However, it is advisable to do a patch test first to ensure you do not have any allergic reactions.

How often should I use henna to cover white hair?

Using henna once a month can effectively cover white hair and condition your hair naturally.

Can stress really cause white hair?

Yes, chronic stress can lead to oxidative stress, which affects melanin production and can cause premature white hair.

Are there any side effects of using natural remedies for white hair?

Natural remedies are generally safe, but individual reactions can vary. It is best to do a patch test and consult with a healthcare provider if you have any concerns.

Does diet really impact hair color?

Yes, a balanced diet rich in essential vitamins and minerals can significantly impact hair health and color.

Is it possible to prevent white hair completely?

While you cannot entirely prevent white hair, adopting healthy lifestyle practices can delay its onset.

How long does it take to see results from natural treatments?

Results from natural treatments can vary. Consistent use over a few months is generally required to see noticeable changes.

By incorporating these natural methods into your routine, you can manage and potentially delay the appearance of white hair, promoting healthier and more vibrant hair.

Read more

[spread-d-love]

You need a black tea rinse in your hair regimen

You need a black tea rinse in your hair��regimen

Black tea is a staple in most homes around the world. Everybody knows you brew it and drink it but what if you did something different? This is where a black tea rinse for your hair comes up. In this post we will be breaking down black tea and all it’s benefits for natural hair. I will also share my experience trying out a black tea rinse. What is black tea Black tea is gotten from the plant…

[novawrights]

When Home Finds You

Plot- Reader remembers a darker time in her life before coming to Lady Dimitrescu's castle, Lady Dimitrescu shows her the home she's been searching for.

TRIGGER WARNING FOR PAST SELF HARM/DEPRESSION.

I sat in the library looking at the calendar on the wall. You would think a timeless vampire wouldn't need one but from what her daughters said, it was a recent thing when you had arrived a few months ago because they hadn't seen one before. So you took advantage of keeping track of each important date. Birthdays, special things they celebrated or treasured, even your birthday, all written in with flowing cursive writing. But one specific day was just a dot. They all shrugged when they saw it thinking it meant nothing but to you, it meant everything. My thumb subconsciously stroked my upper left thigh where thin scars crisscrossed across the fair skin. Most of my life I have felt alone, an apartment in the States that only held the essentials like clothes; basically a place to eat and sleep while I went to my job as a waitress and came home with no one to tell my day to, gossip with or have girls or friends nights. Early on I drifted apart from friends and the moment my so called accepting  family figured out I was were more into women they swiftly and cruelly disowned me. That's when I became best friends with a silver razor blade. Four years of cutting any piece of skin that could be hidden, becoming an expert in covering and tending to wounds, but three years ago, I forced myself to stop. I was then pulled from my thoughts when the big, oak doors opened and revealed Lady Dimitrescu. Or as I somehow got away with calling her, Alcina. Neither of you knew how it started or why she let's it be when the first moment a maid says it, her golden eyes flash with the fury of lightening in a thunderstorm.

"What are you doing in here all by your lonesome?" She asked, voice laced with concern that her eyes mirrored. I shrugged not taking my eyes off the calendar with today's date being the anniversary when you stopped cutting.

"Thinking about how I got here." I murmured. It wasn't a lie. Had I been left to my thoughts any longer I would have eventually made it to the day I showed up on her doorstep soaking wet and damn near hypothermic. She hummed as she sat in the chair next to me and placed a tray with two tea cups on it. Probably the one drink I had ever seen her drink without any blood in it.

"A strange day indeed. My daughter's usually devour any intruders immediately but for some reason they were definitely part of the argument to keep you alive." Her voice smooth with agreement with a hint of a smile and I chuckled in response.

"Oh yeah?" I teased as I looked over in her direction. While she was this tall, incredible and powerful woman, the soft spot she only had for her daughters, now extended to me. She met my gaze, golden irises meeting my steel gray with the softness only so few saw.

"I'm not one to believe in fate. I've lived far too long to really give it credit should anything good, or bad, come my way. But you took that belief and stomped all over it." She sighed as she turned her gaze into the fire I had long forgotten I lit. "Now I know I promised to give you privacy with your thoughts, but something is bothering you enough I can feel the storm cloud from my chambers across the castle." I sighed knowing she wasn't going to let this go. It was weird she had offered me who ended up agreeing to be a maid, privacy. Especially so soon.

"Several years ago things kind of fell apart. Family disowned me and friends drifted apart so I was literally coming home to an empty apartment every day after work." I started as I took the teacup from her hand and took a sip, letting the apple cinnamon flavor warm me. I could feel her eyes fall on me as she mirrored my action with her own tea. "When you get lonely, you don't always have the best coping mechanisms. Mine, was self destructive. Easy to conceal and no one would know since I never wore shorts or went out to the beach or wore dresses when I went to a club." I snorted before taking another sip. "Extremely glad I hadn't known you or the girls then." I added as a whisper as I turned my gaze to her. Her eyes darted across my face as if she was trying find the answer without me saying it. It was only until her eyes widened a moment later that I knew she figured it out. "You would have eaten me alive." She coughed. Not the best time to throw a suggestive joke like that but the line we danced across between attraction and a degree of softness reserved for lovers, was always front and center of my mind.

"We would have." She agreed softly. I looked at the calendar and gestured with my chin.

"That dot next to today's date, is the day I forced myself not to cut myself anymore. The day I threw out my razor blades."

"How long?"

"Three years self harm free." She didn't say anything and I heard the rustle of her white dress as she moved. I felt a twinge of fear squeeze my heart. Would she kick me out? Mock me? Strip me of my clothes and humiliate me that I wasn't strong enough? But to my surprise, a black glove and white sleeve entered my peripheral vision. I looked up and blinked away the tears that I hadn't realize were popping up.

"Come, my dear." She whispered. I wiped my eyes and took her hand as she led me from the library. It didn't take me long to realize she was leading me to her chambers.

"Al..." I murmured. She sent me a small smile as she opened the doors to her room, before leading me to the room where her bath was held. It always reminded me of a in ground pool for how big it was but also since it was indeed, in the ground surrounded by black tile.

"Get in." She gestured. I looked and saw it was already filled, the room smelled of lavender and the water still warm by the steam rising from it. I was thankful she turned away so I could have some modesty left since this was a boundary we hadn't come close to breaching. I stepped into the water and nearly moaned at the warm feel of it on my skin. When I got completely in I sat on the little ledge as she walked towards it.

"Tonight is about you. Because not only am I glad you had some impulse to travel, and travel here of all places and your car to break down in the middle of a storm, I'm also glad you've gotten over whatever life has thrown you. Even if there were a couple roadblocks in the way." I nearly teared up as she knelt on the tile and grabbed a purple bottle. She tapped my head as a non verbal cue to wet my hair, which I complied with, before resurfacing where my head my her hands with shampoo already lathered and ready to be coaxed into my brown hair. My eyes fluttered shut and a moan escaped me as I let myself relax and surrender to her fingers. Even when I felt like it was enough, she kept going.

"Times like this I wish I had my music. Even if you guy don't have electronics, most of my bands do vinyls still so a turntable would work." I sighed.

"I'll see what I can do, my sweet." The pet names were becoming more frequent these days, not that I was complaining. Another tap a few moments later for me to rinse out my hair of the sweet smelling shampoo and I couldn't help but enjoy the domestic intimacy between us. After rinsing my hair and feeling more relaxed than I had that day, I felt like my head was a little clearer and the storm cloud had gone away. She reached around and stroked my cheek.

"Dry off and meet me in my room." She whispered. I blinked as she practically glided out of the room before standing. I took one of the big fluffy towels she used and towel dried my hair as much as I could, and dried my body off. I noticed a pair of my old running shorts and a tank top waiting for me to change into. I ignored the blush creeping up my neck seeing a pair of underwear laying with it.

After changing I walked out of the room to see her in front of her fireplace with a silver goblet with her blood laced wine with another with plain red wine that I liked. I took a seat on the sinfully comfortable, crimson red couch next to her.

"I've felt this draw to you since you arrived. It's why the tasks I gave you kept you closer to me and report to me instead of anyone else. It's why I've done so much more for you as a maid compared to everyone else that has walked through these halls." She started. "If my instincts are correct, you feel the same or follow the same trail of thouught." Lady Alcina, the one who seems impossible to fluster or look unsure, cast this vulnerable air around her; and it surprised me. I swallowed knowing there was no way out of this conversation.

"I-I-I do." I stammered. I looked up at her and met teary eyes filled with love, adoration, compassion and genuine happiness.

"Fate does seem to come into play sometimes." She murmured before she leaned in where her wine red lips met mine. I'm not one to use cheesy movie clichés, but this kiss felt like I was home and complete in a way I thought was just a cruel joke for me. I felt her hand softly touch my thigh where the spandex had ridden up and a few scars where revealed. Pale lines that were almost invisible gleamed in the fire light. When she pulled away from the gentle kiss, her eyes flickered toward them, almost as if she knew my panicked trail of thought was going.

"You are so beautiful, my love. No scar, bruise, wound or anything will ever make me think otherwise." She assured me as her thumb caressed them much like mine had done just a while ago.

"But most of all," she continued, "You're home.

With me and my daughters. " I hadn't realized how much her words would mean to me until I felt tears falling in rapid succession that she brushed them away before pulling me towards her chest. There was one thing I had been hoping to find and I found it in the arms of Lady Alcina.

[pizza-portal]

Quarantine Photos

Pairing: Chris Evans x OC!Lana

Summary: Lana has to do an at home photoshoot wearing lingerie.

Warning: smut, hand job, lingerie, fluff

The sky was littered with clouds of gray and darkness. Little spots of water would drop onto the large windows of the apartment that looked over the city of New York. The light from the gloomy morning flooded the open rooms beautifully. It was a nice day. Lana enjoyed the gloomy tranquility. She sat on the airy couch reading a book and sipping on unsweetened tea. Her hair had been tied up in a messy bun and her face was free of makeup. She enjoyed quarentine. There was less time working and more time focusing on herself and, most of all, her and Chris’s relationship. Their relationship only seemed to grow due to the freedom in their home. Sex whenever they wanted, dinners together, actually getting to have conversations that aren’t over the phone. But, she still had to work. She would still post pictures on Instagram for modelling and different companies.

The front door opened with Chris. He had jeans and a sweater on and his mask was still attached to his face. His hood had small droplets on it. He had a paper bag of groceries in one hand and a rectangular box in the other. “Hi, baby,” Lana said mindlessly, not even bothering looking up. Chris set the stuff on the counters before peeling off his mask.

“Hey,” he greeted, pushing some hand sanitizer into his hands. “You have a package here by the way.” He calls out. Lana reads the last sentence in her book before setting it down and going into the kitchen area. Chris began putting the groceries away as Lana looked down at the box. The shipping adress company read Victoria’s Secret.

“It’s lingerie,” she tells him before grabbing a knife to open up the box.

“Ooh,” Chris smiled excitedly, earning an eye roll from Lana.

“I have to promote some stuff for Victoria’s Secret on my Instagram,” she explains and she pulls out opaque bags with different colors of sexy fabric inside. She hands Chris the box to throw away. As he does so, she opens one bag revealing a white bustier top with floral lace and matching panties. Chris leaned his elbows on the counter, watching her unbag the items. He could feel the excitement in his central by just imaging her in them. She continued with a beige lace top with criss cross over the chest that showed much cleavage and high wasted lace panties. Lastly there was a black top that she knew was gonna push up her boobs with lace trim and lace black panties with minimal coverage.

Chris looked up at Lana, a single index finger hanging over the wide grin on his face.

“Oh, you’re just having the time of your life aren’t you,” Lana joked.

“I know you’ll look great in them,” he stood up. Lana hummed in response as she stared up at her boyfriend. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, kissing the top of her head. Lana’s hands found their way under the sweater Chris was wearing, gently rubbing the warm skin.

“I need to get this done or else it never will,” Lana tells him. He looks down at her with a grin. “Oh come on. I’ve done lingerie shoots before!”

“And I’m not complaining,” he laughs. Lana’s hand drew back, quickly smacking his stomach while a smile played in her face. He laughs harder.

“This is work. This is professional shit,” Lana laughed with him.

“Oh god,” he kept laughing. “I love you.” Lana smiled to herself. She pressed her toes against the ground, giving her a few inches, before planting a kiss on his lips.

“I love you too,” she tells him. She grabbed the bags and headed to the bedroom to get ready. Chris was left with anticipation. She looked good in anything. She could literally wear nothing, and Chris would fall in love with her all over again. He was helplessly in love with her. He made his way over to the couch, seeing an empty cup of tea and a book on the coffee table. He leaned down, putting the book at the top of the pile of the rest of the books in the center. It was just a small collection of what they were reading. He grabbed the mug, bringing it over to the sink. He rinsed it out before flicking the water off of his hands and started walking down to the bedroom. He pulled off his sweater, leaving him in his jeans. He made his way towards the bathroom, where Lana was doing some light makeup whilst already in the black piece that was mailed to her. He leaned against the door frame, staring down at her perfect curves. The black complimented her skin nicely and it obviously looked nice on her.

“You look good,” Chris grinned, looking at her face as she spread light makeup onto her eyelids.

“Yeah?” She said mindlessly, setting the brush down. She brushed some hair out of her face. Chris pushed himself up, one hand finding her waist. He pressed her back against his chest, while planting small kisses on her shoulder.

“You know you look amazing,” he whispers in her ear. Lana bit her lips watching his hands smoothly move up her curves. She could feel his friend poking her, begging to be let out. The palm of his hands closed over her breasts, messaging gently through the thin fabric.

“Chris,” she whispered at him. He looked up at her through the mirror, still kissing her skin. “I need to do these photos.” His lips left her shoulder, leaving the skin hot and wanting more. She turned around, facing him.

“Then do the photos,” he tells her. Neither one of them moved. Lana slowly lifted her hands, touching his toned chest. He raised an eyebrows at her before she kissed his lips. She was slow, making her movements passionate and sensual. Chris’s arms wrap around her waist pulling her in. “Are you gonna do the photos?” He mumbles, still kissing her lips.

“Are you gonna do me?” She whispers back. Chris’s hands immediately grip tightly onto her waist pushing her against the edge of the counter. He pulled her up, making her sit on the counter before attaching his lips to her again. His hands roamed her thighs, rubbing softly and going over the lace on her hips over and over again. Lana’s hands roamed Chris’s chest, moving down to his abs and feeling each section of muscle. Her fingertips dipped into the his pants, past the denim and through the waist band of his boxers. His hands tightened around the lace on her hips.

“Don’t tear,” she reminded him as if he were a child, a small smile playing on her face. Her hand dipped lower, taking him into her hand. He groaned lowly, his eye closing with pleasure from her physical contact. She could tell he was already pretty hard. She moved her hand up and down the shaft, watching Chris struggle to keep his dominance. A small moan escaped his lips as he pressed his forehead against hers. His fingertips pressed into her thighs, his nails almost digging into the skin. Her thumb lightly smeared the bit of pre cum over the tip before continuing to knead. Before he could even feel the high, she pulled her hand out. “Off.” she demanded.

Chris immediately loosens his grip on her body before unbuckling his pants and pushing them down to his feet and pushing them aside. He pushed down his underwear next, letting his dick spring out. He grabbed Lana, pulling the panties down her backside. He set her back down. He stripped the lace off her legs, throwing them aside. He used his hands to open her legs. He looked down at her entrance, soaking and ready for him. He adjusted himself before grabbing himself and pressing the tip against her entrance. Yet, he didn’t let it go in. He would lightly press in before stopping and readjusting himself.

“Chris,” Lana whimpered. She was so needy at this point. He finally pushed himself in, slowly stretching her out. Lana bit her lip to keep in her moan. Chris’s hand rested on her inner thigh while the other sat on her lower stomach. He started off slow, pushing himself in and out. Lana’s moans through her lips only encouraged him to go faster and faster. He sped up, the roughness pouring out of his body. Lana’s hand gripped the back of his arm while the other held her up. She moaned his name as his thrust because faster and more rough. He kept hitting the same spot over and over, sending Lana into overdrive. She bit her lip hard to keep in her scream. Chris grunted, feeling himself hit his climax too. His thrusts were sloppy as he tried to get as much as he could.

“Chris,” Lana moaned again.

“Go, baby,” he told her. He pressed himself into her hard as she clenched around him and came. A wave of relief and ecstasy washed over her like water. Her heart beat was all she could hear as she took deep breaths. Chris started moving again, letting her ride out the climax. He was slow and sensual, pulling out when they were both ready. Lana finally put her lips onto his.

“I love you,” she whispered. He smiled.

“I love you too, Lana,” he whispered back. He pulled her off the counter, keeping his arm around her waist to keep her steady on weak knees. Chris never failed to make her sore. “So, those photos...”

“I swear to god if you do this with each one I put on,”

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 5 - 9

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Content warning: past torture, chronic pain, jealousy, bad self-esteem, past implied noncon of a minor, discussion of polyamory, discussion of sex, implied future spice 

~

As Sam carried their bowl into the kitchen after dinner, Edrissa met their eyes with a shy smile. They stacked their bowl by the sink as Vera rolled up her sleeves and turned on the hot water. Isaac and Gavin began to pile the cooking pans by the sink, Gavin’s eyes a little red-rimmed, and Isaac watching Gavin as they moved around the kitchen. Finn and Ellis had decided to eat dinner in Burmingham after they’d spent all day fixing up their house. Tori kissed Vera gently on the cheek and stood to the side of the sink, ready to dry dishes as Vera handed them to her. 

Zachariah hovered at Sam’s shoulder, an anxious, near-constant presence since he’d called Edrissa ‘sweetheart’ that afternoon. He wrung his hands, glancing every now and then at the sink where Vera was now scrubbing each dish, rinsing it, and passing it to Tori to dry.

Almost without thinking, Sam gently placed their hand on Zachariah’s arm.

Edrissa’s gaze flicked to Sam’s hand, and back to their face. Her clear blue eyes darkened, just a little. Faded. Her smile was still there, as gorgeous as ever, but the corners of her mouth fell slightly as Sam watched. They wet their lips to speak.

“Want to go for a walk?” Edrissa said first. Her gaze flicked to Zachariah. “Um… just… just you and me.” She smiled wider, but it seemed forced, that sadness still tightening in her eyes.

Sam’s mouth went dry, and they swallowed. “Yeah,” they rasped. They glanced at Zachariah and squeezed his arm.

Zachariah’s eyes went slightly wide, and he glanced around at the others.

“They won’t bite,” Sam said gently, and smiled at him. They stepped away and followed Edrissa to the back of the house, and out into the warm night.

The sun was still up, shining over the lake, not even behind the trees yet. Sam blinked and tilted their head back, breathing in deep the clean air, the smell of the grass and sand and trees. They felt the wind play through their hair, felt Edrissa’s warm fingers clasp through theirs as they walked through the overgrown yard and out the back gate to the beach. The grass was patchy, giving way to sand that shifted under Sam’s bare feet.

The moon hadn’t risen yet. It was almost the full moon – Edrissa kept track of things like that, the moon, the seasons, the time when the herbs in the garden sprouted and bloomed. She had a little journal Gray had given her where she drew plants and charts of the starts, patterns for clothes, sketches of Nata where he sat in the sunny windowsills. It occurred to Sam that the last time they saw Edrissa scribbling in her little book, she’d been close to the end of it. Sam had seen a shop in Crayton that sold pretty things like Edrissa seemed to like: notebooks, pens, tiny jars of colorful ink that they’d seen her staring at when they went into town. They were unbelievably expensive, all of it either taken off luxury syndicate shipments or purchased from black market dealers – who knew there was a black market for fountain pens? – but if Sam started volunteering with the refugees and saving the credits Daniel Schiester gave them…

Maybe I should get her a new notebook, they thought to themself. Maybe she’d like the one with the pink flowers on the cover. Or… she seemed to like the leather ones, too. Maybe I could get one for her birthday. When was that again? I think it was—

“We missed your birthday,” Sam whispered.

Edrissa blinked and looked at them. “What?” The sun shone on her hair, making it seem like liquid gold.

Sam reached out and tucked a lock behind her ear. “Y-your birthday,” they said softly. “It’s in May, isn’t it? We… we missed it.”

Edrissa shrugged and looked at the sand shifting under her feet as she walked. She turned slightly and they both began to walk along the shore of the lake. “It was May fifth. You were, um… s-south,” she murmured.

Sam stopped where they stood. “Oh.”

Edrissa stopped beside them and squeezed their hand. “It’s okay,” she said gently. “Gray celebrated with me. We went into town and went to that restaurant that makes the cheese they light on fire. Then we went to Ms. Clancy’s nursery and Gray let me pick out any herb I wanted.” Edrissa glanced back at the house. “I picked the lemon balm. It’s loving the cool weather. That’s what I made the tea from.”

Sam turned to fully face Edrissa. She had a proud little smile on her face, and a sparkle in her eyes that she always got when she talked about her beautiful things. The breeze made wisps of her hair float around her face, and her lips were curved up into a smile that made Sam want to lean forward and kiss her.

Without a word, they cradled her face and brushed their lips against hers.

Edrissa sighed and pulled Sam close, her fingers winding into their shirt. She trembled as Sam carefully pulled their right arm out of its sling and wound it around her waist, holding her close. Their right shoulder was sore, but there was no flash of pain, no bolt of agony through the wound. Edrissa ghosted her tongue over Sam’s lower lip and they whimpered softly. They didn’t meet her tongue with theirs, though, because Edrissa didn’t like that.

But Edrissa liked kissing Sam, and Sam loved that.

Edrissa pulled slightly away, breaking the kiss but keeping her forehead pressed against Sam’s. She shivered in the breeze and blew out a slow breath as she held Sam.

“Edrissa?” Sam said softly. They gently pulled their hands away and let them fall to their sides. Their right arm twinged, and chewed the inside of their cheek as they held back their groan of pain. Their gaze moved over her face. Her fingers tightened in Sam’s shirt and she bit her lip like she was holding back tears.

Sam’s eyebrows drew together. Their stomach dipped. “Edrissa?” They licked their lips. “What’s the matter?”

Edrissa finally released Sam and wiped her eyes. She sniffed. “Um… I was just thinking… um…” She shrugged jerkily. “I’ve been, um… w-watching, um, you. And Zachariah.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, and they pushed down the stir of warmth in their chest. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah,” Edrissa said. She cleared her throat. “And you, um… you seem to, um, do really well together. You look, um, good.”

Sam ventured a smile. “So do you, Edrissa,” they said gently.

Edrissa waved the comment away. “He’s… he’s big, and, um, and strong, and he’s really nice.”

“Yeah, he is.” Sam reached out and squeezed Edrissa’s hand. The sling hung empty around their neck.

“And… he seems to like, um, you.” Edrissa shrugged again. She wrapped her free arm around her waist and looked at the ground.

Sam’s heart skipped a beat. “You think so?” they croaked, and glanced back towards the house, shining white-yellow in the sun.

“He’d be really good for you, Sam,” Edrissa said, and Sam was confused to hear a hint of sadness – of dismay – in her voice. “He’s good, and kind, and he’ll protect you. And he’d probably be okay with… he’d… probably…” Edrissa released Sam’s hand and wrapped her other arm around her waist, squeezing herself tight. Tears glittered in her eyes.

Sam’s eyebrows pulled together, and they tilted their head as they looked at Edrissa – their beautiful girlfriend, their sweet Edrissa, gorgeous and talented and special. They chewed their lip. “Edrissa… I don’t…”

“What I mean to say is,” Edrissa said, tight-lipped, “Is that… I think you two should go together.”

Sam watched Edrissa carefully. “Okay…”

“Because… I would understand if…” Edrissa blinked and two tears ran down her cheeks. Edrissa swiped them away and stared at the ground again. “You deserve… everything, Sam,” she rasped. “You deserve someone who’s strong, and not broken, someone who can, um… h-have sex. I don’t know if I’ll… ever want to. I don’t know if I can.”

Sam reached out to her. “Edrissa, I—”

She pulled away from their grasp. “He’s good for you, Sam,” she whimpered, her voice trembling. “You’re good together. And I mean… he’s… he’s gorgeous… and so considerate, and he’d… he’d… treat you s-so well…”

Sam’s heart pounded in their chest. “Edrissa, are you… b-breaking up with me?” Their chest ached. Their skin felt too tight, their lungs not quite able to expand.

“N-no!” Edrissa cried, and grabbed Sam’s hand. “No, I… I want to be with you, I just… I want you to be… happy. And Zachariah can make you happy.”

“You make me happy, too,” Sam whimpered. Their mind reeled, grasping for an answer, a reason why Edrissa would do this. “And… you like him too, right?”

Edrissa blinked. “Well… yeah, I mean… he’s… he’s wonderful. I like his arms, and his voice, and his lips, and how he always wants to help me in the kitchen, and… and…” She blushed a furious crimson.

Sam drew in a deep breath, trying to calm their pounding heart, trying to soothe the ache in their chest. “So… if you like him… and I like him…”

“He’ll choose you,” Edrissa whispered. “I know he’ll choose you. You’re…” Edrissa’s gaze flicked up to Sam and back. “You’re… He’d have to be crazy not to choose you.”

Sam looked at Edrissa for a long moment, searching her face with their gaze, swallowing against the lump in their throat. “Um… Edrissa, we could just… be with him… together?”

Edrissa blinked and raised her gaze to Sam’s. “We could… what?”

Sam shrugged. “I mean… you don’t have to? But… if you like him, and I like him, and he seems to like both of us…”

“You think so?” Edrissa breathed. Her eyes shone with painful-looking hope.

Sam suddenly thought back to Edrissa clambering up onto Zachariah’s back, holding the baking sheet aloft like a shield – and of how Zachariah’s hands had gently curved around her legs, how he’d been so careful as he dodged Sam’s handful of whipped cream, how he’d kept her safe, even from that innocent attack.

“Yeah,” Sam said with a nod. “I think so.”

Edrissa swallowed hard. “Is that… something people do… a lot?” she murmured. “I thought… I don’t know, I’ve never seen that before. My parents were married only to each other, and my boyfriend and I were only with each other, and my o-owner only ever had—” She cut herself off with a gasp and looked back down at her feet, sinking into the soft sand.

“I just know it’s something people do,” Sam said gently. “And we don’t have to if you don’t want to. But… Edrissa…” They stepped forward and cupped Edrissa’s face, tilting her head back so they could see her eyes. “I would, um… really, really like that. If we could all… be together. And… please know that…” They leaned forward and gently kissed Edrissa’s cheek. She drew in a short, quick breath. “I like you. A lot. And just because you’ve been through… what you’ve been through…” They kissed her other cheek, and she whimpered softly. “…doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. I told you.” They gently pressed their lips to hers. “I don’t need to have sex, if you don’t want to have it. You’re my… my girlfriend.” They smiled at the shiver of her breath against their lips as they said it. “And you told me what you wanted when we started this, and I told you that’s what I wanted, too.”

“Oh,” Edrissa murmured. She pulled Sam close and laid her head on their shoulder. “So… did you want to talk to him… tonight?”

Sam’s stomach flipped at the idea of pulling Zachariah close, kissing him, as Edrissa touched him, too, as he touched them both, together. Their mouth went dry. “Um, yeah,” they croaked. They laughed softly. “Yeah. Tonight. Sounds good.”

They turned back towards the house. Sam slung their left arm over Edrissa’s shoulders. She laced her fingers through theirs, and wound her arm around their waist. They laughed as they bumped hips, stumbling over the sand, as they made their way back to the house.

Continued here

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[freegentlewildflower]

BRE’S HAIR WASHING ROUTINE + 10 HAIRCARE/GROWTH TIPS!

Hey y’all! 🌞 I’m starting with these three chunky braids. (👆🏾) My hair is dry, crusty from gel and knotted————-> all signs that it needs some love and care a.k.a washing and styling. 🧖🏾‍♀️🔄👩🏾‍🦱

For now, I wash and detangle my hair using Pantene’s Moisture Boost Shampoo and Suave’s Moisturizing Curl Conditioner. I’m not afraid to combine different brands because it works for my hair. These (👆🏾) are pictures of my hair after rinsing both products out. The gray teeshirt draped over my shoulder is used to dry my hair.

For extra moisture, I deep conditioned using Aunt Jackie’s Coco Repair Coconut Créme Deep Conditioner. I let the deep conditioner do its thing for 25 minutes before rinsing it out. There’s (👆🏾) a picture of my hair with the deep conditioner in it.

👆🏾 Here’s my hair after rinsing the deep conditioner out! (I’m not apologizing for being drenched ‘cause this is wash day reality baby. (😂)

After thoroughly rinsing the deep conditioner out, I did two strand twists using Aunt Jackie’s Curl La La Defining Curl Custard. Imperfect parts don’t bother me, so I just grab a medium patch of hair, apply a generous amount of curl custard and start twisting. The twists shrink a few inches as my hair dries. I wear them until I’m ready to restyle or wash my hair again. __________________________________________

10 HAIR CARE TIPS THAT CONTRIBUTE TO HAIR GROWTH!!

This post began with my hair washing routine, so my first tip is don’t wash your hair too often because it can cause dryness and breakage. I wash my hair every three weeks to a month. (Of course, some of us have to wash our hair sooner because of scalp conditions like seborrheic dermatitis, product buildup, et cetera. Still you shouldn’t be washing your hair EVERYDAY unless you’re tryna see it go missing.)

Detangle your hair WHILE WET with your fingers or a wide toothed Afro comb. Start from the ends and gently make your way towards the roots because it minimizes hair loss/pulling.

Keep your hair moisturized. Water is the number 1 moisturizer of Afro hair. There are multiple options to lock in moisture like butters, creams, grease, et cetera. I oil my hair with Jamaican black castor oil or tea tree oil or peppermint oil, et cetera. Sometimes I combine different oils. I do use grease, it’s always been good to my hair since I was a child when my mama or other family members would have me drowning in grease from my forehead to my lower neck. 😂

A vital part of retaining length is little manipulation meaning keeping hands (even your own) out of your hair. My go to hairstyles for length retention are twists and braids. I typically wear twists or braids for three weeks, wash it, then I rock my Afro, bun, puff or any other hairstyle for about three days, and return to twists or braids. The dope thing about twists and braids is that you can be VERY creative with them. The patterns/designs are infinite and you can always add some flava with accessories like beads, shells, hair clips, et cetera.

Always avoid heat for as long as possible! I blow dry my hair every coupl’a months. (I’m slowly resorting to air drying being my only drying method). If you are going to use a blow dryer, flat iron or any other heat source, be sure to use heat protectant after prepping your hair with a good wash before.

Trim your split/knotted ends when needed! I trim once, no more than twice a year.

Make sure to tie/cover your hair with a satin scarf or bonnet every night or whenever you’re sleeping/napping. I sleep/nap with a satin hair scarf, bonnet and pillow. (Yes, ALL THREE FOR EXTRA SECURITY, lol.) 🤣

NEVER, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever use those hair bands that have the metal clasp on them because (if your hair is anything like mine or thicker/more coily) they will snatch some strands.

PLEASE EMBRACE SHRINKAGE. YES, we all wanna show off our length sometimes, but shrinkage is a sign of health. STAWP treating shrinkage like a burdening disease before I have to go “SKURRRR” and pull up on you! 🏎 (j/k about pulling up! 😂)

Our inner health influences our outer health! Drink water. Eat those delicious vegetables and fruits! Take needed vitamins! Be well rested, too! (I’m slacking on the well-rested part, but I’m gonna do better. We’re all doing better y’all because that’s just the right thing to do. 🙌🏾 )

Remember our hair is beautiful, versatile and suitable for ALL environments/careers/workplaces! (That’s regardless of the fact that media/racists white people/anti-black people try to tell us otherwise.)

Our hair, like our skin, is not a crime nor anything to hate or be ashamed of! Embrace, love and appreciate the beautiful hair and precious brown skin that you were born and blessed with! I do and you can, too!

@irrelevant-b @kouhaiofcolor @s0ulful-girl @s-affira @celestialcelaeno because y’all have asked for tips or complimented my hair! To the person who anonymously asked about my hair, I hope this post finds you, too!

Thank you! ✌🏾& 🤎

[bluebird722]

Eggs, Swimming, and Towels

Pairing: Damian Wayne/Robin + Raven

Rating: T+

Once again, for @tigerdude94, @rachelalghul, @chromium7sky, @lunastar92, @damnshipper, @dcgzilla, @quothxthexravenx, @dcdweeb, @grassfour, @xxitzmikoxx, @andthendk, @unk-vi, @ravenfan1242, @raventrigonsdaughter, and everyone else who cares for these two. 

Damian didn’t realize until he woke up that he was alone in bed. Well, after his brain fully woke, he realized that it was not his bed. The sheets were a plum silk, contrasting his black silk. He must have fallen asleep in her bed again. 

It didn’t surprise him, though. Ever since they rebuilt the tower, they have slept together, usually on the couch or in his room. It pained him to be away from her after convincing himself that all the other Titans had died. After Superman took her to Damian and she fell in his arms, he was unwilling to let go of her or be away from her. He felt that he could have saved Nightwing from death had he not been at a farther distance, and he didn’t want anything to happen to the one teammate he had left.

He closed his eyes but let his arm stay wrapped around where she had slept beside him until the door opened. She walked in, a robe over her negligee, with two teacups. 

“Morning,” she greeted him softly. Ever since their victorious battle, her face had regained its fullness and was no longer gaunt or dark. She offered him a cup, which he initially refused; he sat up, leaned forward, and kissed her. She responded back for about ten seconds and then pulled away to drink from her cup. He took the other and sipped in silence. She finished hers, put the cup on the nightstand, and leaned against his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her abdomen and he finished his tea, and she took the empty cup from him and placed it beside hers. 

“Did you sleep well?” she whispered. 

“As always, when you’re in my arms,” he replied. He looked down at her face, returned her smile, and lowered his head with puckered lips. She kissed him back and snaked her arm around his neck to pull him closer. When he pushed her toward him, she pulled her leg over his lap and sat on his crotch. As they kissed, he smoothed down her back, rear, thighs, and calves to touch her bare ankles, and moved his hand back up to her waist. 

She felt a bulge in his crotch and kissed down his jaw to hide her smirk. He nearly cried out, and he seized the back of her nightgown with an urge to rip it off of her. She rubbed his cheek against his shoulder. “Your back is so smooth,” she whispered into his skin. 

Damian didn’t respond but instead pushed her hair from her neck and kissed down the back of her neck. She took pleasure in it and arched her back and neck for more until his stomach growled. His lips moving to her shoulder made her giggle. “Let’s stop and eat first,” she insisted. “We’ll come back to this.”

“All right.” He stood up and supported her under her thighs until her legs crossed behind his back. They kissed out of her room to the kitchen, where he leaned her against the wall for better access and then opened the refrigerator. 

As the world was still rebuilding and resources such as food were scarce, Damian and Raven agreed to be careful and use strict rations, so breakfast was usually one egg each unless they created some omelet to split. 

Cooking made Damian reminisce when Nightwing and Starfire tried to teach the Titans basic cooking skills, such as eggs for themselves. Those lessons always ended in disaster: Garfield always burned his, and Jaime’s scarab would react for no reason. Donna had eggshell bits in hers every time and struggled to get them out. Damian wasn’t used to making his own food, and Raven didn’t have any culinary skills when it came to the stove. It was Superman who taught them; while the tower was under construction and they stayed with him and Lois, the former farmboy taught them how to fry eggs until they perfected it. 

Raven watched Damian with a heavy heart. She knew that the fall of the Titans hit him as hard as it hit her, but she wasn’t used to seeing him so clingy to her. He only parted ways with her for bathroom breaks, and every time he or she was done, he had his arm around her or held her wrist. It seemed like the cold-blooded assassin that he was destined to become, that his mother and grandfather tried to wire into him, had faded into a young man allowed to feel.

They fed each other from the pan in silence. Damian put the pan back on the stove and pushed his nose into the crook of her neck. “Remember when we went to that carnival, and you called me ‘insufferable’?”

 She gave him an amused smile. “I what?”

He kissed both her ears. “You said that I was insufferable but had a kind and generous soul.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “This was, what, how many years ago–?”

“When I first joined the team,” he said, “but I’ve been going over it in my mind almost every day since.”

He swayed her around while she kept her feet on either side of his. “I can’t believe it–I don’t remember saying it,” she chuckled. 

“You did,” he said with a kiss to her neck. “I’ve been thinking about it every day.”

She shook her head but stroked his bare arms. They let ten minutes pass by and decided to go outside for combat training, which they hadn’t done in a long time. It was a beautiful day to go outside and practice everything that Kori and Dick taught them, and for Damian to teach her everything the League of Assassins had ingrained into him and themselves. 

In a way, training made her sad. Every time she looked at the grass, she remembered the playful banter between Dick and Kori, how they defeated each other and made silly jokes. She thought about Donna mastering almost everything but flight at first, and even when she did fly better, she lost ground in combat. Jaime and Garfield pairing off usually resulted in weird games of tag in the air. Raven tried not to think about that but instead on Damian positioning her fists and feet into a proper fighting stance. 

Ever since their reunion, whenever they did spar together, their sparring lessons have become more intense, much harder. When they didn’t use weapons, he was much fiercer, and when she didn’t learn something quickly enough and fell, he panicked and rushed to make sure that she was all right. In the few instances where she did beat him, he actually smiled, but she couldn’t tell if he was just considering himself a good teacher or was overprotective of her and was glad that she knew another method to stay safe. 

They stopped after two hours but were high on adrenaline. Raven stared at the sun’s reflection in the tiny waves, took a deep breath, and dove into the ocean to cool off. Damian studied the white foam and hesitated before diving in as well. They emerged out together and pushed back each other’s hair. He wiped the saltwater from her lips to kiss her. 

The deeper his hand smoothed up her back, the deeper she arched her back and pressed her body against his. Her breasts ached against his chest, but it only made their kissing more fervent. His fingertips pressed into her lower back. Neither cared if they would be caught or if it started raining. 

Raven didn’t know how long they kissed in the water until he pulled away and whispered that they should go inside. She opened a portal that took them to the bathroom, where she stepped away but held his hands. Damian didn’t understand the look in her eyes until magic ran down her arms and left her nude. 

He felt dizzy. He had never seen a naked woman before except in movies and pornographic magazines, and to see one in person was much different, particularly when it was someone with whom he had lived with for over two years. Her face should have been the focus, but his eyes couldn’t look away from her breasts, as pale and ashy as her face and arms. He had never seen female nipples in person, and they appeared different from what media depicted them to look. Her curves were sharper than how her uniform made them look. Without her boots and gray stockings, her legs looked longer. She didn’t have a nest of hair between her legs, which he figured was due to her demonic bloodline. 

Damian didn’t know how long he stared, but it came to him that staring was rude. First, he peeled off his mask and took his time removing his uniform while maintaining eye contact with her. For a moment, he began to regret exposing himself to her. His mother and grandfather had not taught him about intimacy (his father had educated him on that subject), but they told him that nudity was sometimes necessary to seduce or dominate power over a female. Even more, he was uneasy showing her the scars that he had collected over the years from his training. He didn’t want to explain their stories or the weapons or his age. 

Once he was completely unclothed, nervous but bold, she took his hands. “Come take a shower with me,” she whispered. She walked him into the bathtub without breaking away from his eyes and used her magic to turn on warm water. He closed his eyes when water poured over his head but reopened them back to her sweet smile. 

In that space of a second, he wished that Nightwing were alive for advice on how showering together was supposed to work. 

The two came back together and kissed under the water. They kissed for two minutes and took their time washing each other’s hair. Seeing him with foam in his hair made him look youthful. He kissed down her neck at the same time that his fingers rinsed the suds from her hair. She felt him rise against her leg but didn’t comment on it. 

For the time being, they washed themselves. He admitted that while he wanted to, he didn’t feel ready yet. She didn’t have a problem with that. In fact, she didn’t feel ready yet, either; this was just to test if this was what they really wanted before they decided to progress. 

Still, as they dried themselves, he touched her face and gently kissed her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and felt for any wetness on his back. She kissed all over his neck and shoulders, and didn’t notice that her towel fell from her chest. Damian noticed by accident and hurried to cover her, but she grabbed his hand to stop him. 

Taking a deep breath, she guided his hand to her breast. His fingertips were gentle against the smooth skin. He took his time rubbing the gland, rolling it around her chest. His thumb fondled her nipple and gently batted at her breast, smiling when it jiggled. He wondered what it would feel like to have her breast in his mouth, but she pulled on his hair and turned his head to meet her eyes. They went back to kissing. He hooked her breasts between his thumbs and fingers to lift against his chest. One hand left her breast for the back of her neck, rubbing it as she rubbed his. 

“I could do this all day,” she admitted. 

Damian purred; it stirred in the pit of her abdomen. “Me too,” he whispered against her lips. He smacked kisses down her throat but stopped at her chest. “Is it all right if I…go lower?” he asked. 

Raven swallowed. “Not yet,” she whispered. 

He kissed back up her chest and the side of her neck to her earlobe, which he gently nibbled at. Her hips rolled against his and she fidgeted until his towel fell from his hips. 

She moved her head and chuckled. He had really nicely shaped buttocks and thighs–pure muscle and tone to caress all day. Eventually, he pulled away and rolled his head. “May we relocate?” he asked. “My neck hurts.”

Again, Raven didn’t expect the grandson of the demon’s head to complain about body aches, but it may have been because it was her. She agreed; her feet were feeling numb. Her set her onto her feet and picked up his towel, taking his time so he could watch her stretch. It made her look taller and leaner, and her breasts pointier. 

Once they were both back in their towels, she walked with him to his room and watched him dress himself into a turtleneck and slacks. She went back to her skirt, jacket, and bustier. He picked up the towels and kissed her once more, his fingers raking through her hair. “What’s for lunch?” he smirked. 

Raven giggled. “Can’t give it to you, but you can help me make it.”

Seeing his face light up was pure gold. She took his hand and led him into the kitchen. 

Author’s Note: As mentioned before in my previous fic “Bath, Earl Grey, and Sensuality”, I’m not entirely shipping Damirae yet, in part because I don’t want to get my hopes up in case something happens to one or both of them in Justice League Dark: Apokolips War, which has happened quite a few times to me, but I really like the idea of Raven exploring romance and sexuality, which I think she is usually deprived of in the comics; if she’s not, it’s usually in a negative way, so I think this is my way of giving her a healthy sexual relationship, even in progress, that she deserves.

[cesabutterflywrites]

Violet; the Only Thing I See

Word Count: 2565

Notes: Soulmate AU, no warnings I can think of, but ask me to add if I didn’t catch any 

Summary: Patton only catches a glimpse of his first color in the city. 

Patton Harte was eighteen years, five months, and three days old when he saw color for the first time. 

He was walking down a busy avenue in San Francisco. He had taken BART to the city on his day off to be under the gaze of the skyscrapers. He strode over sparkling pavement, and as he looked up the sun glittered off the top windows of the massive buildings above him. It was a windy day in the city, so he made sure to wear a jacket with deep pockets to protect his hands from the chill. There were people everywhere, cars at a standstill beside him in the rush hour, and he felt buzzed. 

Being in the city was his favorite state of being. He grew up in the Oakland Hills looking out to the small section of the tallest buildings, surrounded by two bridges. Watching the sun rise in the mornings over the Bay was his favorite pastime. He was so excited to see the colors his parents described to him. If something so wonderful could be even more beautiful outside of the shades of gray, he would probably die soon after just from the sheer bliss. 

He knew San Francisco was full of color. They had the Castro District, historically a town where a lot of people from the LGBTQ+ community built roots. There were the piers, and the exploratorium was busy all the time with people. The Westfield Mall had so many different shades of gray, and the shops made him excited to shop for clothes when he had a better idea of what they looked like. 

He wondered if the reason he ventured into the city was because of all the potential of color he anticipated. He longed to see the blues of the bay water as he stared out on the end of Pier 39. He wanted to know the color of the soft grass he laid on when watching fireworks below Ghirardelli Square. Oh, the fireworks, what an even more iridescent display they would be when he was holding the hands of the person who introduced the world to him in a new way. 

He was walking towards Pier One from the shadows of the buildings, and came upon tents belonging to people selling their goods. He smiled as he took his time browsing the products. He admired the way jewelry glimmered in the sunlight.  The handmade beanies were exquisite. He had a few extra dollars in his pocket, so he purchased the one that seemed to compliment his head well. The vendor had told him it was, “Sky blue,” with a pitying smile on their face. Most people met their soulmates in high school. 

He had just graduated high school the month prior, and had felt some disappointment that he couldn’t enjoy the school colors with his peers. He didn’t let that dampen his mood completely. He had his parents take a ton of pictures for him to look at when he had someone to show them to. 

As he made his way to the MUNI stop, the crowd thickened in the evening foot traffic. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. He accidentally bumped into someone, he wasn’t paying attention to who, and next thing he knew he caught a few snippets of...color… here and there. There were mostly the grays, whites, and blacks he was used to but all of the sudden there was something...new. 

He looked behind him to see if the person he had bumped into was looking for him as well. He stood on his tip-toes, angering others passing by. He craned his neck, but to no avail. The person who introduced him to this taste of color was gone. In just the briefest of meetings, Patton’s life was changed with no warning or explanation.

He slumped his shoulders in disappointment. He made his way home slowly, his head dropped low, not even bothering to marvel in the new discovery in his sight. What was the point of the vibrant hints if they were only painful reminders of a missed opportunity lost in a crowd. 

He got onto BART, holding onto the wrist straps attached to the rails of the train car. He pulled out his phone, noticing the case was the new color. That sparked his curiosity. He opened up Google, searching for the colors of the Rainbow. Rainbows were what everyone said was the combination of all colors. He smiled to himself, knowing now that the colors teasing his vision were shades of violet.

----

“Hey, Pat, how was your day out?” his mom asked when he entered the doorway of his home in the hills. 

His smile was bittersweet as he answered, “Enlightening.”

Mrs. Harte raised her eyebrow, and Patton noticed light shades of violet were smudged onto her eyelids. He couldn’t find himself to answer the unasked question, it was too much, and his mother sitting in front of him made him feel uneasy. 

“I’m wiped, I’m going to go ahead and rest in bed until dinner’s ready. I love you,” he kissed his mom on the cheek and bolted to his room. 

He immediately wished that he had stayed in the living room when he saw his room had dashes and splotches of violet everywhere. Had his mind known this would be his only vision? It wasn’t all purple, but it was enough to split his chest open and let the tears drop from his eyes. He sniffled, and removed his glasses so he could lay on his bed and hug his childhood puppy, who happened to have a light purple bow tie. 

He must’ve cried himself to sleep, because when he woke up it was dark. He groaned, feeling for his glasses so he could see slightly better. When he found them, he looked at his clock and gasped in shock. His parents had let him sleep, so it was five in the morning. 

He decided that being up early wasn’t too bad, and frankly he had developed a bad habit of staying up too late once he graduated. He put on a shirt, it was dark purple, he noticed. He woke up with the ability to view the color without hurt. Less than a day, and he was immune. The color would become as familiar as his normal grays. 

Patton fixed himself a mug of tea and made his way to the porch that overlooked the bay. He anticipated the sunrise. Would it be purple as well? What if that was the color of the sky in the morning? He sipped his hot tea in anticipation, and was excited to see the barest hints of what he assumed to be lavender on the edges of the sky where the sun blended with the night. He bounced excitedly, happy to finally enjoy the sunrise with new  eyes.. He looked to the other seat, and drooped in disappointment to find it empty. 

Being brought back to reality hurt, and suddenly it was the same pain as the day before filling his head. He closed his eyes, not wanting to smudge his glasses with tears. 

He only opened them when he heard the sliding glass doors open and close. His dad sat on the previously empty seat with a cup of coffee. He smiled, the silver streaks in his hair more prominent with age. He gazed in wonderment at the view. Of course he did, he had been able to see color since he was sixteen years old. 

“I don’t understand why you look so amazed, you’ve seen it before.” Patton remarked bitterly, surprisingly out of character. 

“It’s different every morning,” his dad answered before looking at him curiously, “Why so sour, son?”

Patton deflated with a sigh. Perhaps some help from his dad would make him feel better. So he told him. 

He recalled his afternoon prior in perfect clarity. He made sure to use as many details as possible, hoping there was a piece he wasn’t able to see that his dad could. He relayed the scene of each moment leading up to the brief encounter. The sun had finally risen by the time he had finished, and his tears had finally fallen more. His dad handed him a handkerchief from his shirt pocket. 

Patton wiped his face while his dad pondered everything he had just been told. Patton went to sip his tea, but found it to be cold. He curled his lip in disappointment. He would have to make a new cup, but he didn’t want to get up in case his dad had more to say. 

After some silence, and without a word, his dad stood up to go inside. Patton got up to follow, curious as to why his dad was acting so mysterious. 

They stopped in the kitchen. His dad started rinsing his mug. “Did you see anything about this person? Any detail?” the older man finally asked. 

Patton shrugged. “I wasn’t really paying attention. I can only remember black, but it could have been a silhouette to fill in the empty space.” 

His dad nodded solemnly. “Okay, here’s the plan. You’re going to go back to the city, and retrace your steps. Don’t worry about cash, I’ll give you some. Go on, get  your things, I’ll even drive you to a BART station on my way to work. 

Patton nodded, excited for the adventure once more. 

----

Patton walked beneath the sky scrapers, seeing the barest depth to the shadows they cast. It looked nearly the same, yet more...pronounced. He marveled at the sights from the previous day, now so new. It was as if it were his first time in the city. He had to keep himself from skipping around. Hope was like sprouted lavender blooming forth from his chest. He saw every little bit of purple, and wondered to himself why he let the connotations disrupt the beauty of it. 

Maybe it was good to have a color of his own, just for a bit. He decided to go to the Westfield mall, and stared in wonder at the shops. Each window had a streak or two of lilac, the lingerie store had plum colored undergarments, the tables in the dining areas were lined in a weird, dark shade of purple that Patton tilted his head in confusion at. 

It was a bit off of his route from the previous day, but he wanted to enjoy the new sight for once. Take some time to experience the color on his own. Maybe that was what he was supposed to do, anyways.

He sat down at the table near the poke bowl counter, his own customized bowl in front of him as he gazed around his surroundings. 

There were people everywhere, and not so many of them were wearing the color. Most everyone seemed like they had before, silhouettes of swirling grays surrounding him, alone. That is, until he caught sight of a boy with purple hair sitting down at the table next to him. 

He stared in wonderment. He knew people who saw color changed their hair, but he never imagined it to be so...vibrant. The boy was dressed in all dark clothing. He seemed to be elsewhere, and it must have not been pleasant, seeing as his expression was in a grimace. 

Patton stirred his chopsticks in his bowl, starting to daydream about the purple haired boy. He wondered why he was so drawn, perhaps it was because he could see a detail about his person that he wouldn’t have before. 

“Hey, Specs, got a problem?” the boy asked, voice like gravel that made Patton’s heart skip a beat. 

“No, no! I was just staring at your hair,” Patton blushed, he didn’t want to be rude, and frankly had hoped the other wouldn’t notice. 

“Hm,” edged lips turned into a deep frown. “Whatever.” 

“Sorry…” Patton mumbled.

The boy’s head jerked up quickly, and Patton glanced curiously. What had he said?

“What-what did you say?” he asked, some soul in his voice, but Patton wasn’t sure if it was good. 

Patton gulped, “Sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I just...just thought  your hair was pretty, and I only just started seeing color yesterday. Well, only one color, and that’s your head,” Patton stretched his arms out in defense as he watched the person move in front of him, “Sorry! I just-”

“Shut up,” the guy commanded, but softly. It wasn’t rude, it was tinged with nerves.

Patton gulped. He didn’t understand what was going on. Was this kid dangerous? No, he didn’t seem like it. 

The guy squatted next to Patton’s frozen figure. “I might never get another chance to say this,” the deep voice grumbled, “but hold my hand real quick.” 

Patton’s heart beat erratically in his chest. It couldn’t be. It can’t. It couldn’t. How?

His fingers trembled in fear of the unknown, and grabbed the stranger’s warm hand, and the world changed in the blink of an eye, literally. 

The world was full of color when there was contact. The person holding his hand gripped tight, which made Patton grateful because it was overwhelming. The mall they were in was more lively than he could have imagined. 

He looked at the face of his savior. He had dark black marks beneath his eyes. His skin was light, compared to Patton’s, but still so colorful. His eyes were something else. Light, vibrant, and Patton didn’t know how to describe it. He could tell that there were tears welling up in them. 

“I- I didn’t think I’d have a soulmate,” the boy confessed as the tears silently dropped. “I’ve always seen color. But you- something about your voice was familiar, and I needed to see- I was curious.” 

Patton was crying, too, but much less graceful. He had snot coming out of his nose, and his shoulders shook with sobs. He felt emotions as foreign as the world around him, and perhaps even more pleasant. 

“I’m Patton, can I hug you?” he asked shyly. 

“I’m Virgil. I’m not usually a hugger, but sure.” His voice was scratchy, nervous. He let go of Patton’s hand to open his arms wide. He was on his knees, still beside Patton. 

Patton dove into the dark arms of his new center. The one who brought him the colors of the rainbow surrounding him. If rainbows were made of light, it didn’t matter how dark Virgil’s clothes were, he was the brightest in the room. Patton nuzzled into the chest of his...soulmate. 

“Thank you,” he choked out, “Thank you so much!” 

“ You’re welcome, Pat,” Virgil responded as he patted the smaller boy’s back. 

Patton giggled, “Giving Pat a pat on the back?”

Virgil groaned, “Of course, I’m stuck with a punner forever.” 

Patton pulled his head up to see that Virgil was smirking, the remark was in jest. His smile was crooked, and probably the most beautiful thing Patton ever saw. 

“You’re pretty,” Virgil complimented. 

“Pretty Patton?” Patton asked, a sly smile on his face. 

“Sure,” Virgil rolled his eyes, “Pretty Patton.”

They both stood up, knees aching from the floor. They hugged properly, and they both fit perfectly. The world buzzed around them. Patton; glad to see the world in it’s complete beauty, and Virgil; happy to be able to share his vision with someone instead of alone. 

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Let me know if you wanna be on the taglist for any of the ships!

[harrybabystyles]

Oh, Angel! (harry styles)

chapter five - m a s t e r l i s t -

warnings: language

My head feels fuzzy as I open my eyes, the warm sun filling his bedroom to the brim with golden rays.

I sit up, noticing his missing presence, my eyes settling on his bathroom door where the sound of a shower running fills my ears.

I smile, and stretch, memories from last night floating in and out of my head.

The garden, the rooftop, us dancing, the song, his lips, his warmth, and his words, all making my heart feel light and full.

I think back to last night, when we were laying together in his bed, my head on his chest, our legs tangled, and his heart beating steadily as I listened.

“I’m scared too...” he had whispered, his voice barely audible, and I hear his heart beat start to pick up.

“You are?” I said back, keeping my voice as soft as I could.

“Yeah...scared you’ll leave when it comes down to it...when it all becomes too much” he mumbled, and by then his heart was stammering in his chest, he was nervous...vulnerable.

“What do you mean by ‘it’?”

“Don’t worry about it...just go to sleep, it’s late” he brushes it off, and I cozy up next to him.

“You first” I mumble, and he gives off the softest laugh I had ever heard, his heart beat returning to normal.

“And Harry, whatever ‘it’ is...I’ll be able to handle it” I reassure him, “I don’t plan on leaving either” I whisper, and I feel his heart leap inside his chest, making me smile.

I continue to look out Harry’s windows as my mind circles back from the memory, a smile on my face.

He feels so real, so genuine.

I still have that fear, that anxiety, deep in my chest, he seems too good to be true, and after my past relationship, I couldn’t help but fret over him, and put up walls, even if I didn’t want to...

“You’re awake” I hear him call, and turn around to find him walking out of his bathroom, just a towel on his waist, his skin dewy from the steam, and his hair falling around his eyes in wet curls, causing my heart to skip.

“Morning” I smile at him, and he smiles back. 

“The shower is free if you want to use it, I was just going to go make some breakfast...any preferences?” 

I think, my face scrunching up as I do, and I hear him give off a small chuckle, “Can you do pancakes?”

“Yes ma’am” he replies through a laugh, and I smile, getting out of his bed to head to his bathroom. 

“Thank you” I smile at him as I give him a quick kiss on the cheek, and I can feel his dimple under my lips. 

“Mhm” he hums, and I walk into his bathroom, closing the door behind me as I start to get ready to shower. 

I let the warm water soothe me, like how I let Harry’s warmth soothe me last night, I let it soak into me and fill my soul. 

When I got out, I put on exactly what I had slept in, Harry’s shirt smelling less like him and more like me, and I walked out to find him in the kitchen, towel still around his waist, his hair damp, and a kitchen rag flung over his shoulder. 

I practically drooled at the smell coming from where he was working, and from the sight of him in so little clothing, my stomach rumbling as I approach the kitchen. 

He was humming, some sort of upbeat tune as he shuffled around in the kitchen, and if my heart wasn’t already filled to the brim, it was now. 

“Smells amazing” I speak up, taking a seat at the counter on a bar stool. 

He looks over to me with bright eyes, his humming stopping as he gives me a warm smile. 

“Thanks...how was your shower?” he asks, returning his attention back to the stove. 

“Also amazing” I reply, and I hear him chuckle.

“Good” he smiles at me over his shoulder, “Coffee? Tea?” he asks, and I shake my head. 

“Actually...” I change my mind, and he starts to laugh, “...coffee would be really nice” 

He pauses to pour me a mug of coffee from an already made pot, turning to me.

“How do you like it? I have creamer and milk in the fridge” he asks, gesturing towards the silver fridge to his left. 

“Creamer is fine, thank you” I reply, giving him a smile as he opens the fridge. He hands me the mug, and returns towards the stove where he flips several pancakes onto a charcoal gray plate. 

He brings over the hot pancakes, and I quirk my eyebrows when he reaches in the fridge pulling out a bowl of whipped cream mixed with fruit. 

“Did you make all this yourself?” I ask, as he sets a plate in front of me, handing me a fork. 

“Yeah..” he smiles, “...not all this morning though, I made the topping a few days ago after I came home from the garden” he shrugs. 

“So this is all homemade...” I clarify, and he nods. 

“Don’t forget with fresh fruit” he points to the bowl of whipped cream and fruit in front of me. 

I raise my eyebrows, “Damn Harry, you sure know how to impress a lady” 

He laughs, and I notice the light blush that spreads along his cheeks as he looks down. 

“Mind if I-”

“Dig in” he smiles, and I don’t hesitate to start making a plate. As soon as my mouth wraps around the first bite I close my eyes.

“Mm” I hum, taking in the flavor of the fresh fruit with the sweet whipped cream and the pancake. 

“You like it?” he questions and I open my eyes to find him taking his first bite. 

“This is the best breakfast I’ve had in months” I mumble, shoving another bite in my mouth. 

He laughs, and as I go in for another bite he reaches his hand out to stop the fork rising towards my mouth. 

“Chew what’s in your mouth first, love” he chuckles and I blush, setting down my fork and putting a hand over my lips. 

“Sorry” I mumble as I swallow, “It’s a bad habit” 

“S’okay” he tells me, “Glad my cooking is decent” 

“It’s delicious” I respond, and he smiles. 

We carry on with our meals, and I make sure to not shove my mouth full every chance I got. I fill my plate up two more times until I feel satisfied, and on the last bite I realize that Harry only had one serving and I feel embarrassed again.

I just really love food.

I stand up stacking our plates together and placing the forks on top, to which Harry gives me a confused expression as I head over to his sink. 

“Anna, you don’t have to do that” he says, realizing once I turn on the water what I’m doing. 

“I don’t mind” I shrug and I begin to rinse off the plates. 

He stops my hands by wrapping his own around mine, and I look up at him as he smiles.

“Allow me” he says softly, and I shake my head, “I really don’t mind-” 

“Anna” he warns, his voice low, and I sigh, letting my hands slip out of his and I step away. I watch as he picks up where I left off, and I smile, not really knowing why.

“What are your plans for today?” he asks, and I am a little taken back, shocked and curious to why he would want to know. 

“Not sure” I reply, and I bring over some of the dirty dishes he used for cooking. 

He frowns as I drop them in the sink, “Anna”

“What? I’m not going to let you clean up both of our messes” I fight, bringing him more dishes. 

“Fine” he sighs, and I smile. 

“Does that mean you are free today?” he continues, and I debate in my head. 

“Yeah...I guess so” I shrug as I bring over the last of the dishes. 

“Would you wanna spend the day with me?” he asks, but this time there is something tugging in his voice, a thread of fear or anxiety, and my heart swells at it. 

He is nervous, even if he tries to sound confident, I can hear the insecurities inside of him. 

It scares me though, the thought of spending more time with him, getting closer to him. I didn’t want to repeat what happened last time I let someone in, I don’t think I could go through that again...but then again, Harry is so different.

And after last night...I just can’t see him doing what I fear he would, I just can’t.

“Yeah...” I begin, biting my lower lip as I smile, “...I would like that” 

He smiles at me, one of his full face ones that sinks his dimple deep into his cheeks and makes little lines form around his eyes. 

“Good, I have something to show you” 

My eyebrows raise, “Another surprise” I say flatly and he just shrugs, drying his hands off on the kitchen towel still flung over his shoulder, and he places it on the counter. 

“Can you tell me what it is this time?” I groan playfully, I wasn’t much for surprises, but I do have to say they were now growing on me. 

“Anna, we have been over this...” he smiles, placing a hand on the counter, and leaning against it. 

“Just give me a hint” I plead, pushing my lower lip out, to which he laughs.

He pulls his other hand up to pull at his lower lip, looking deep in thought, “It has to do with music...” he says eventually, and he looks down to his t-shirt on my body, “...and you’ll need a change of clothes” 

“I need a change of clothes...” I say sarcastically, “...you’re only wearing a towel!”

He laughs, looking down over his body, and I notice just how low the towel was on his hips, his fern tattoo on full display, and my stomach sinks. 

“I didn’t mean you needed to cover up, I just thought you would be more comfortable in your own clothes” he explains. 

“I guess you’re right” I shrug, “I would be more comfortable” 

He puts a hand over his chest like he had just been shot, “Are you saying my clothes aren’t comfortable?”

“You know that is not what I meant” I roll my eyes, pushing his chest playfully. 

“I know” he says softly, “I’ll go get dressed, and then we can swing by your apartment, sound good?” he asks, already starting to walk away. 

“Sounds good” I reply, and he disappears behind his bedroom walls, I go into his guest bathroom finding my clothes right where I left them and changing back into them, gathering my stuff up. I manage to send my friends a text telling them we were going to stop by before he reappears. 

He wears a simple white t-shirt, a hawaiian button up over it, with black skinny jeans, and a pair of white vans, and I admire how good he looks in such a simple outfit. 

“Ready?” he asks, grabbing his keys and wallet from the counter.

“Yup” I reply, and we walk out his front door. 

“Alright...” he begins as we step into the elevator, “...tell my everything about you, as much as you can fit in until we get to your apartment” he smiles.

My lips part as I try to figure out where to begin, and he waits patiently with a smirk.

“Okay...well...I was born here in New York, grew up in the foster system with my sister, Claire...y’know the one you hung up on last night” I raise my eyebrows at him, and he smirks.

“Sorry about that, can’t help myself sometime” he shrugs, and I scoff, but his face falls and his eyes shift.

“You grew up in the system?” he says quietly, like if he spoke too harshly I would shatter.

“Yeah...our mother was a druggy, we got pulled from her home when we were little” I can feel his stare on me, and the atmosphere goes quiet as I swallow, fidgeting with my hands again.

I feel his hand slide down my back, and I shake my head, “We were never separated, so we got really lucky, and when she turned 18 we bought a shitty little place of our own...we both worked days and nights to pay for it” I smile, remembering how hard we worked for that crappy little one bedroom apartment, and how much joy it brought us.

“She ended up going to a community college at night, and eventually getting a job as a social worker down town” I explain, and we exit the elevator.

“What about you?” he asks, waving to hotel staff as we walked towards the parking garage entrance.

“Well, when she got married, I moved in with a few of my friends I met at the diner I work at” I pause, sighing, “...worked at” I correct.

“Got fired last week, which you already knew...and to top it all off, my sister and her husband are moving to England at the end of the month” I sigh, my heart heavy in my chest.

“England?” his eyebrows raise, and I nod.

“Her husband’s company is cutting their ties to the US, only going to be available to Europe” I explain, and he nods.

“I’m sorry Anna, wish I could do something to help”

I look back up to him, and give him a smile, “Don’t worry about it, shit happens...” I shrug, “...I’ll get through it”

He gives me a soft smile, and he unlocks his car, the same one he took me home in last Friday, opening my door for me.

“Sounds like you and your sister are close” he comments as we get in, starting the car up.

“Yeah...” I smile, “...inseparable, we are the only family we’ve got, she has always had my back, no matter what”

He smiles at me as we begin to pull out of the parking garage.

“She sounds lovely” he remarks, and I smile even deeper.

“She is...” I look over to him driving the car, “Well, that’s it” I shrug.

“No it’s not” he smiles, and I quirk my eyebrows.

“Yes it is!” I argue and he shakes his head.

“That may be your story, but it’s not you” he smiles at me, and my heart tugs on his words.

“What’s your favorite color?” he presses, looking out the window.

“Green” I answer, and I can see the curiosity brewing inside him.

“Why?”

“There is not much green in the city, only small pockets of it...like the garden you showed me yesterday...it makes me feel refreshed, like a breath of fresh air, like the world isn’t as dirty as it seems”

I look over to him, and he is smiling ear to ear, and I notice his eyes are the exact shade that I was describing, catching me off guard and making my heart flutter.

“What about you?”

“No...” he shakes his head, “...the spotlights on you right now, Anna, we’ll get to me soon enough”

I frown, “Fine”

“It’s this one right?” he points, and my apartment building comes into view.

“Yeah...looks like my spotlight is over” I smile at him and he chuckles, finding a parking spot and pulling over.

I send my friends a text, telling them to behave them selves before we get out of the car. I unlock the doors and we walk straight to the elevators.

“I apologize in advance for my friends” I mumble to him, getting anxious as we reach my floor.

He laughs, “You don’t think I can handle them?”

“No” I blurt out, laughing as I do, and he furrows his brows.

“It’s just...they are very over the top” I explain, and he shrugs as the elevator doors open.

We walk down the hallway till we reach the old brown door with the number 412 on it, and I take breath in before unlocking it.

“Are these the friends from the other day at the music festival?” He leans in, and I nod, “Yeah...”

“They were quite lovely then” he informs me, and I shrug.

“Well that was in public, and they were all worked up over me passing out”

He nods his head, “Touché”

“Hey guys” I call out, opening the door for Harry and closing it behind him.

He has his hands in his pockets while he follows me into the living room.

“Anna, tell us-“ Evelyn rounds the corner, but stops dead in her tracks when she spots Harry.

“Hello” she waves, smoothing her hair down.

“Hi...Evelyn right?” he greets her, extending his hand.

“That’s right” she takes his hand, a small smile forming on her lips as she heads to sit on the couch.

“We are just stopping by so I can change clothes” I inform her just as Harper’s and Paige’s door slam shut from down the hallway.

“Is he here?!” I hear Harper exclaim, and I face palm.

She skids in her tracks when she sees him, a smirk tugging on the side of her lips.

“Yes he is” Harry chuckles from beside me, and I feel my cheeks heat up.

“Well I’ll be damned” she says, and I mentally scream.

“Hi Harry” Paige peeps from behind Harper, giving him a small wave.

“Harper and Paige, right?” he points to them and they nod.

“Well, like I said, we are just swinging by so I can change, we will be leaving very quickly” I grab Harry’s hand and start to lead him away from them, praying they just shut their mouths for once.

“She’s embarrassed of us” I hear Harper point out and I slump over.

“Harper-“

“We embarrass her, but lucky for her she hasn’t brought a guy home in over a year”

I groan, “That’s irrelevant” I say through gritted teeth, and she laughs.

“See...” she points to me, “...embarrassed”

I pull Harry along, wishing I could just die on the spot. I drag him into my room and close the door, taking a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry about them, they just...” and I pretend like I’m choking Harper, and he laughs.

“S’okay...I’m flattered really”

I walk to my closet and start to pick out an outfit.

“Flattered?” I echo, “Why?”

“Cause I’m the first guy you have brought home in a year” he smirks, a smug tone to his voice.

I fume, throwing a random shirt at him, to which he catches, laughing cheekily at me.

“I should have had you wait in the car” I mumble, and I begin to undress, and his eyebrows raise.

“You’re pretty confident huh?”

I shrug, “Nothing you haven’t seen before”

“Touché” he smirks, eyes shamelessly floating down my body.

“Like what you see?” I smirk as his tongue wets his lips and his eyes flick back up to mine.

“Very much” his voice is low, and butterflies bloom in my belly.

I finish changing, and I notice him start to walk around my tiny room, looking at pictures on my wall. I pick up my brush, and comb through my hair while he scans my walls, hands folded behind his back.

“Ready?” I ask, setting down the brush.

“Mhm” he mumbles, hesitantly turning around, eyes glued to the pictures.

I open my door, and I hear footsteps stampede down the hallway.

“You guys aren’t very subtle!” I yell after them and I hear giggling from the living room.

Harry follows close behind me, and when I reach the living room my friends act like they were there the whole time.

“I’m headed out, don’t know when I’ll be home...” I look at Harry to see if he will give me an answer, but he just shrugs, “...but I’ll keep in touch”

“Okay, have fun you two” Evelyn smiles from the couch, and we start to head out the door.

“We will” I reply, beginning to shut the door.

“Use protection!” Harper yells, and I slam the door, hoping Harry didn’t hear her, but by the look on his face I’m guessing he did.

“Your friends are-“

“Immature” I say flatly, cutting him off.

He shakes his head, “Funny”

I scoff and roll my eyes, “Most of the time they are just annoying”

He chuckles, and we step into the elevator, “What are friends for?”

We climb back into his car, and I turn to him.

“What?” he says, raising his eyebrows.

“Your turn” I say briefly, “Your turn for the spotlight”

He sighs, “Oh, alright”

He starts the car, and pulls out, and I wait patiently for him to start.

“I grew up in Holmes Chapel, it’s this town in Cheshire...my parents divorced when I was young, and it was just me, my mum, and my sister for awhile...until my mum met my stepdad...” He smiles, and I look at him fondly.

“He was a great guy, and he was good to my family, wouldn’t trade him for anything...” he pauses, getting lost in a memory, and I stay quiet.

“He died not too long ago...” I can see the pain that was still very much present in his features as his smile drops as his eyes dull.

“Oh Harry, I’m so sorry” I say, placing a hand on his knee, and he gives me a soft smile.

“Thanks, but s’okay...like you said shit happens”

“Dosent mean it doesn’t hurt” I tell him and he nods as he seems to get lost in his head for a moment.

“How long have you been a musician?” I ask, and his smile returns.

“Since 2010, I was in a band called White Eskimo” He smiles, and I bust out laughing

“That’s awful!”I point out, and he chuckles.

“Hey, I came up with that!” he says sarcastically, and I hold back more laughter, trying not to embarrass him.

“Sorry...” I giggle, “...continue”

“We won battle of the bands, and I then decided to try out for the X-Factor...made it through boot camp...and the judges decided to put me in a group with four other boys...” I can see him relive memories in his head as he pauses, his smile growing deeper, “...we placed third, but that didn’t stop us from continuing on with the band”

“Please tell me you picked a better name for the band than White Eskimo” I giggle, and he laughs. 

“Yeah...we called ourselves One Direction” he tenses up, and he almost looks nervous, sort of how he looked when our taxi driver recognized him last night. 

He was on edge, and I could practically see the walls he was throwing up. 

The name sounded familiar, like I’ve heard it before, but I didn’t give it much thought. 

“That’s way better” I comment, giving him a smile, and I see him let go of a breath he was obviously holding in. “...sounds familiar, have you been on the radio?” I question, and he shifts in his seat.

“A few times, yeah” he responds, eyes on the road. 

“Anyway...” he continues, “...we toured together for around five years, usually writing our next album while we were touring the previous...got pretty close to the rest of the lads” 

“But...” he shrugs, “...we went on hiatus a little over a year ago, sort of grew apart...and now I’m producing my own music” 

“Seems like it’s treating you pretty well, being in the music industry” referencing his gorgeous apartment and his vintage car that we were currently driving in. 

“Money wise...yeah” he smiles, one of those cocky ones that tells me he probably carries around hundred dollar bills and has multiple vacation houses.

“So, how famous are you? Do you need like bodyguards and do you have to sneak around from the paparazzi?” I joke, but his demeanor changes, he gets stiff and he stares at the road.

My jaw drops, “Wait...actually?”

[neonsentient]

Haikyuu! Rise Above

A ragtag group of students from a school for troubled teenagers forms an unconventional co-ed volleyball team in hopes of proving to themselves that they're more than what people make them to be. With the help of a few loopholes in the rulebook, they'll have the chance to win the gold for what might possibly be the last time in their lives.

Think of it as a spin-off, the Karasuno's first years are now second years, but I will focus on this paticular team.

Warnings: Mentions of drug abuse, underage drinking, self harm, eating disorders, depression, suicide, racial and homophobic slurs. Not all at the same time though.  

Chapter 1: Promising Young People

Amara leaned closer to the toilet as she gagged, throwing up her measly breakfast of tea and apple slices, the only things she could stomach that morning. In an unusual lucky strike, the bathroom she was currently in puking her guts out was empty.  It probably had something to do with the fact that she decided to arrive at the school building an hour earlier, otherwise she would’ve had an audience.

She rose from the floor, wobbling like a newborn fawn, and went to check herself in the bathroom mirror. Her russet skin had an unhealthy pallor to it, her waist-length crow black braids were loose and poorly made and the bags under her eyes could’ve been easily mistaken for bruises. That morning she didn’t even bother to look for her makeup bag in her suitcase.

“First impressions matter, you know?” Her parents would’ve told her. “It’s not every day you get to make them.”

“But I already made mine.” Amara thought bitterly.

She splashed cold water on her face and rinsed her mouth as best as she could.  Now she was regretting not bringing at least some concealer or even chapstick.

“As if that were to make things any better.” A voice hissed from the back of her head. “As if that would…..”

Amara shook her head, bringing herself back as she checked her wrist watch. She was supposed to meet her guide at the entrance. In a normal scenario, she would’ve already known by now where everything in the school was, her classes, the gym, the best spots for a smoke break……

But despite being her second year of high school, it was her first year at Ōkamiyama Alternative Academy. In fact, since most of her education consisted of homeschooling, it was her first time back at school since she was in elementary, period. And unlike many other students who had arrived at least a week earlier, Amara’s messy flight schedule made her arrive only a day before the school started.

One look at the main building and it was clear that the school had a thing for a certain color scheme, or lack thereof, rather, since Amara noticed that all the buildings were either black, white or gray. That and the uniforms, a dreadful combination of a prison concrete gray blazer and pants or skirt with a white shirt and black tie. Luckily, the school didn’t seem to be too strict on the dress code, since she saw several students with all sorts of accessories, shoes and even altered pieces of the uniform.

She decided to play it safe by wearing it plain with a pair of rather sad looking black loafers that had seen better days - an emergency purchase at Target after her suede Jimmy Choo boots fell victim to an unexpected downpour-, and a gray Casio. It's not like she was expecting the sailor tops and blue skirts she saw on TV, but the overall look did leave Amara incredibly disappointed.  

Her guide was a girl called Emine Narisawa, also a second year and in the same class as her. Other than that she didn’t knew anything else. It was still a bit early, so she sat at a bench near the entrance, and to no surprise, it didn’t took long for the stares and whispers to start.

“That’s her, right?”

“Oh, so it was for real?”

“Is it just me, or did she looked taller on TV?

Amara’s vision turned blurry, her eyes curdling with tears. She quickly dug into her bag, pulled out her IPod nano (one of the few devices that the school allowed) and headphones and pressed shuffle, not even paying attention to the song that was playing as she took several deep breaths.

She tried her best to distract herself with anything, yet not even a second later, Amara felt a light tapping on her shoulder. She jolted on her seat, took off her headphones and turned to face the person behind her.

“Ups! Sorry!” A cheery voice apologized. “You’re Amara Murakami, right?

The girl was tall, not as much as Amara, but still taller than the average second year girl, and model-thin, with long hair the dark red of rose petals tied in a high ponytail. A ridiculously big, silvery gray bow sat atop her head. Amara immediately noticed her uniform, or “uniform”; the blazer had been turned into a button vest, the gray skirt was embezzled with black and white rhinestones and she sported a pair of white Adidas sneakers. Amara had bought the same ones just two months ago. A thin, white gold anklet with pea-sized bubblegum-pink sapphires was clasped at her slim ankle.

“My name’s Emine Narisawa, but everyone calls me Emi! Wow, you’re taller than I imagined.” The girl chirped. Her voice had a slight hoarse edge to it, which combined with her super girly perfume, an overly sweet combination of flowers and strawberry, made Amara suspect that she was a smoker and that she probably had a cigarette before the tour. “Welcome to The Den!”

Amara could only raise her eyebrows.

“Get it? Cuss we’re wolves!” The girl pointed at the welcoming banner hanging in the entrance, where a menacing looking gray wolf was painted.

“Right.” Amara nodded, not knowing what else to say. "Umm, thanks?"

The redhead caught her hand in an overly enthusiastic handshake. She had a pretty face, although her cheeks looked a tad bit gaunt, and she wore silver eyeshadow with glitter all over her face and hair. Her tanned skin, a shade lighter than Amara’s, was completely covered with freckles, and her lips were painted a shimmering soft pink.

“Wow, your eyes look super cool!” She said, inspecting Amara’s face. “You’re from America, right? Is one of your parents Japanese?”

“So she hasn’t heard of me.” Amara thought with relief. She then noticed that Emine was waiting for an answer.

“Y-yeah I’m from Massachusetts.” She answered. “Umm, my dad’s Japanese and m-my mom’s Nipmuc.”

The redhead cocked her head in confusion.

“Native American.” Amara explained.

Emine’s licorice black eyes lit up.  

“Cool! So you guys are the ones that make, like, dreamcatchers and stuff?” She asked. There wasn’t a single hint of malice in her voice, just genuine curiosity, but still, it made Amara feel annoyed.  

“Ummm…”

“My Nine was from Turkey,” Emine said. “And they have these Nazar amulets to ward off the evil eye or something. Is it the same thing?”

“I don’t…”

“Anyways, you’ll love it here. It never gets boring!” Emine explained as she leaned uncomfortably close, linking her arm with Amara’s. “Follow me, I’ll take you to our classroom.”

The girls made their way inside the building and all the way through Emine "discreetly" pointed out rooms and people, giving Amara a crash course on the school, the students and teachers.

By the time they reached their classroom, Amara had learned that the captain of the baseball team had just began dating the president of the Student Council, crop tops were back in style, the back of the football field was the best place to smoke and that the guys from the Shōgi club sold the best ketamine during midterms.

"Don't they do drug tests all the time?" Amara asked. She herself had an appointment in the nurse’s office later that night for one.

Emine nodded.

"Yup, but it's a six panel."

It was Amara's turn to be confused once again. She had drug tests done before but she only...provided the sample, she never bothered to ask about the details.

"Weed, coke, speed, benzos, angel dust and opiates. All the mainstream stuff," Emine explained. "Ketamine doesn't show."

“Oh.” Amara said. “I thought there weren’t a lot of drug users in Japan.”

“Oh there are,” Emine said, occasionally waving to the people in the hallway. “And here are some of the ones that got caught.”  

“Good to know?”

Amara thought that drugs were a rare commodity in Japan, but then she remembered where she was….

“So…” The redhead began, pulling Amara out of her thoughts. “How are you liking the dorms so far?”

“They’re cool.” Amara replied in a monotone voice. “My roommate hasn’t showed up yet, though.”

“Oh yeah, I heard she’s busy with some family stuff.” Emine pointed out.

“So you know her?” Amara inquired. “What’s she like? I mean, personality wise.”

Emine scrunched up her face, trying to find the right words.

“Well, she’s a bit of a…..

“Bitch!” A voice yelled from the other side of the hallway.

A girl walked towards them with a rhythmic and intense stride that made Amara think she was going to do a handspring or cartwheel at any second. She was gorgeous, what people would call a “Bombshell”, with sun tanned skin as if she had spent an entire summer at the beach, and a long mane of sandy blonde waves styled in the same way as Emine; a high ponytail with a bow on top, though hers was black. Her dark teal eyes had a gleam that Amara could only describe as “keen”.

The girl faced directly at the redhead with a quasi indignant look. Amara noticed that her look was very similar to Emine's; the embezzled skirt and altered blazer, shimmery eyeshadow and glitter sprinkled all over her face and hair.

"I can take a couple missed calls but ignoring me the whole summer was just mean!" She said, giving the redhead an angry look.

Emine looked saddened.

"I'm sor…..”

Before the redhead could finish the blonde interrupted her with a big hug.

"I've been worried sick! Even a "Don't text me" would've been enough!" She cried, clinging to Emine's neck. "Never do that again, got it?"

Emine's expression eased as she returned the hug.

"Never again."

If there was something worse than being a third wheel Amara sure was being just that at the moment.

The girls broke their hug and a pair of teal eyes immediately fell on Amara. They weren't menacing, just, observing her. The blonde was significantly shorter than Amara and Emine, but her presence felt more….. imposing. Even with the uniform, Amara could see the outline of muscle on her legs and arms.

"Oh!" Emine exclaimed, as if she had just remembered that Amara was there, and gestured towards the blonde. "Amara, this is Erika Sawai, captain of the cheer squad.

“Now it makes sense,” Amara connected the dots as she looked at both Emine and the blonde. The perky attitude, the lithe build, and even the bows. “They’re cheerleaders.”

“And Erika, this is….."

"Amara Murakami," Erika said, capturing Amara's hand in a firm handshake. "Rumour mill went that you were gonna end up here. But for future reference, I wouldn't trust anything they say around here. It tends to be a little….unreliable."

"Umm, sure" Amara said. She wasn't sure how to react to that. "I-I'll keep that in mind."

“My, my,” Erika leaned a bit closer. Amara caught the scent of the blonde's peach blossom perfume.  “What pretty eyes you have.”

“Uh, thanks.” Amara muttered.

"Oh, I know!" Emine perked up with an “Eureka!” type of expression. “Since I can’t join you guys for lunch why don’t you go with Amara to the cafeteria, Erika?”

Amara felt incredibly awkward. Day one and she was already being ditched by the one person that was supposed to be with her.

“Sure.” Erika shrugged, a smirk appearing on her face. “I love fresh meat.”

Amara gulped. Why did spending a couple hours with a cheerleader, a really pretty one to boot, made her more nervous than stepping into a court filled with professional players?

Then the bell pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Come on, Amara!” Urged Emine. The redhead turned quickly and gave Erika one last hug before entering the classroom. “And see you later Erika!”

Erika waved them goodbye before making her way to her classroom.

Their first classes; English, Math, Japanese literature and Science seeped through Amara’s brain like water on a strainer. Luckily none of her teachers made her introduce herself to the class so far.

But on the other hand, she couldn’t help but notice the “subtle” whispers and looks from her classmates.

A few minutes after the bell rang they found Erika already outside. Emine apologized to Amara, promising to be back as soon as lunch was over and making quick plans with Erika to catch up later in the day before she made her way into an unknown destination. Amara was tempted to ask, but at the same time she told herself that she knew better than prying on someone else’s business.

She exited the classroom and was immediately greeted by Erika’s sly smile.

“Long time no see, Sugar.”

Amara gave her a tight smile as they walked towards their destination.

_________________________________________________________________________

The principal was a firm believer that a healthy diet was key to a healthy mind, therefore, the school’s vending machines only offered water, organic soy milk, sugar-free drinks, fruit and protein bars.

There were two cafeterias, but Amara was told upon arrival that she only had access to one of them. There, most of the menu items were either boiled, steamed or baked and it also had an all-you-can-eat salad bar and a drink station where one could get teas, coffees, smoothies or juices. Amara thought it was a sharp, yet nice, contrast with her old elementary school’s cafeteria choices of cardboardy pizza, dry meatloaf and congealed mac 'n' cheese.  

Amara silently wondered what was the deal with the other cafeteria as she took a spoonful of miso soup.

“Liking the food so far?” Erika asked, placing her tray opposite to Amara's. She had a bowl brimming with a colorful salad of greens, pecans, apples and fennels, a plate of spiced tofu and two cups; one filled with a pale orange drink and the other with a beige colored liquid. She handed the beige one to Amara. " Here, try this."

She had told Erika that her stomach was feeling a little odd (yet not the reason as to why), so Amara trusted that anything she had given her wouldn't kill her on the spot. She took a sip and despite the unappetizing color the flavour was delicious; sweet, creamy yet not too heavy, and with the aftertaste of almonds. It felt nice on her tender stomach.

"Wow," Amara said, pleasantly surprised. "What's this?"

Erika winked and smiled. For a second, it reminded Amaran of someone else's smile.

"My Mama calls it the Jitter Killer." She explained, her voice emitting a hint of nostalgia. "She's been making them for me ever since I started competing. But once I got here I had to start making them myself."

"It's really good!" Amara complimented, taking another sip. She then thanked her, wholeheartedly. Gestures like those literally made her day a thousand times less shitty.

"Any time, Sugarcube." She chuckled, and then leaned towards her with a curious expression. "But do tell. How is a first day of school more intimidating than stepping into a court filled with three meter sized Amazonians?"

Amara lowered her face and blushed. She only told her that she wasn’t feeling good, she never told her the reason.

"Is it really that obvious?"

"You look exactly how I did on the day of my first competition." Erika recalled. "I believe I was around six?"

"What?" Amara said. "Do cheerleaders really start that young?"

"Yup." Erika nodded. "Especially in the States. They love their cheers there, let me tell ya."

"You're from there too?"

"Mama's from Texas" The blonde said. "So it’s always been half and half until now. We still go for the holidays though, they’re much more fun there."

"Sounds cool. I'm from Massachusetts, and I've only been in Japan like twice….until now."

The atmosphere suddenly became grim, and Amara felt her breath hitch. Erika's hand reached for hers.

"Hey." Emiki said, her voice serious. "I know you probably heard this enough but...I'm really sorry for your loss."

Amara's eyes began to curdle with tears.

"You're actually one of the only ones to tell me that."

Then she broke into sobs.

"S-sorry." Amara tried to apologize. Last night she had cried herself to sleep in her dorm, clutching a pair of worn out volleyball shoes, not even bothering to unpack, she just wasn’t in the mood for anything but crying. And there she thought that she had cried everything last night…...

Erika bolted from her seat and to her side, placing her hands on Amara's shoulder in a comforting manner.

"Oh, Honey Bee." She said. "Don't you dare apologize for your feelings ever again. You better promise me that"

Amara sniffed and nodded.

"You wanna talk about it?" Erika asked, the way a mother would when trying to comfort her child.

"I….

"There you are!" A voice interrupted. "We've been looking for you everywhere, morra!"  

Amara and Erika both turned and looked. There were three girls, each one different from the other. They were around the same height but that was where the similarities ended. One had brown skin, long glossy black hair in a single thick braid tied with a gray bow and umber brown eyes traced with glittery makeup. A gold stud glinted in her nose. The other had bronze skin, waist-length chocolate colored hair with a gray bow atop and eyes like two yellow tourmalines. On her face was a red lipped, wicked dimpled smile, like a kid who’d just finished pulling up a prank. The third one was a bit meek looking, with rosy white skin, a cloud of short strawberry blonde hair with a white bow on top and soft green eyes. She fidgeted with her hands and seemed ready to throw up at any second. Amara immediately felt a bout of compassion towards her.

“It’s lunch time, where else would I be?” Erika asked with a confused expression.

“Good point.” The brown haired girl said. She took a sip from the giant coffee cup in her hand. “Can we join you?”

Erika gestured at the empty seats.

The black haired girl looked at Amara up and down, from her messy braids and puffy red eyes to the plain black loafers.

“First time here?” She asked her as she sat.

Amara nodded and noticed their outfits; skirts embroidered with flowers and crystals, Miu Miu sneakers and Birkin bags. How she wished she had her new Air Jordans with her….

“Aww! I remember my first day as if it was yesterday.” The brown haired girl sighed.

The black haired girl furrowed her brow.

“Didn’t you threw up from withdrawal?”

“It was from a hangover, not withdrawal! They’re like two different things!” The brown haired girl corrected, indignant.

Erika cleared her throat, making the three girls turn their heads at her.

“Amara, these are my friends and members of the cheer squad.” Erika explained.

She pointed at the black haired girl.

“This is Kumari Hanan, our best flyer.”

Kumari gave Amara a small nod.

“This is Ximena Otakara, our dance expert and choreographer.”

“And future celebrity, don’t forget that.” The brown haired girl added with a wink.

Erika rolled her eyes and then pointed at the strawberry blonde girl.

“And this is our newest addition to the team, Kara Tamada”

Kara gave Amara a timid smile and wave.  

“Kumari is a third year like me, Ximena’s a second year like you, and Kara is a freshman.” Erika explained and then gestured at Amara. “Girls, this is Amara Murakami, please don’t torture her.”  

“A la madre! ” Ximena looked at her, surprised. “Wicked eyes, girl!”

Amara lowered her gaze and mumbled an empty thanks. If there was something she was used to at that point in her life, was of people making comments about her eyes.

"Sectoral heterochromia." Were the doctor's oficial words.

"Stained glass eyes." Her friends often called them.

"Woodland eyes." Her grandfather had called them. "Brown for the soil, black for the stone and green for the life."

"You carry your land within your eyes, Amara." He told her once. "You will never be lost."

“If only that were true.” Amara couldn’t help but think.

But then she saw Ximena’s eyes squinting in concentration.

“No mames, I’ve seen you before!” She said, proud of her discovery. “You’re that volleyball chick!”

“Holy shit, you’re right.” Kumari joined.

Amara’s stomach plummeted and her face paled, which Erika noticed.

“Damn it you two, what did I just say!?” The blonde scolded. Her tone was the same one Amara’s mom used when reprimanding her. “Hope you’re in the mood for running suicides today!”

"What? Why?" Ximena and Kumari cried.

"That's okay, Erika." Amara reassured her. "It's not like it's a secret, anyway."

“See? We have the Ok.” Ximena said, earning a murderous gaze from Erika.

Then an awkward silence filled the table.

“So…” Kumari began, taking a sip of her purple smoothie. “You’re joining the volleyball team?”

In Ōkamiyama, all students were required to join a school club or association, and from looking at the list that came with the welcoming pamflet, there seemed to be quite a lot, from embroidery and cooking to horse riding and rock climbing. There were even some odd ones like “The Cheese Connoisseurs Association” and “Apocalypse Survival Prepping Club”. And there were also the typical sports clubs like baseball, basketball, football* and of course, volleyball.

She didn’t wanted to give up volleyball, but the wound was still so fresh it still bled…...

“I-I don’t know.” She mumbled. “I’m still not sure. I have a week, don’t I?

“Yeah, of course.” Erika reassured her. “And if you need more time, you can ask the therapist for an extension.”

Amara had completely forgot about the therapist.

In a normal school, a counselor was usually available for students if they wished so, but here it was mandatory to have individual one hour weekly therapy sessions,and once she joined a club, group therapy would also become obligatory. Amara’s first session was scheduled for Sunday.

“Yeah, don't sweat it!” Ximena said.

“Isn't Emi also joining the volleyball team?” Kumari inquired.

Amara raised an eyebrow.

“I thought she was a cheerleader.” She asked, looking at Erika.

“Emphasis on was.” Ximena sighed.

“And not just that, she was...is...the best tumbler in the prefecture.” Kara explained in a soft voice.

“Really?” Amara asked, she knew from somewhere that tumbler meant acrobat, basically a gymnast with a mini skirt instead of a leotard. “Then why did she quit?”

Ximena, Kumari and Erika looked at each other.

“She didn’t told you?” Kumari asked.

“Tell me what?” Amara looked at Erika for guidance.

“Okay that’s enough.” The blonde’s face had a not so subtle hint of worry. “That’s not for us to talk about, I’m sure that in time Emi will tell you all about it.”

Amara certainly felt a bit pained for being left out, but it was someone whom she literally just met, so she concluded that she had no right to be upset either.  

Kara must’ve sensed the tense atmosphere and quickly asked some questions about the cheer squad. There were many terms that Amara did not understood, but she soon became fascinated. The cheerleaders at the games Amara played in danced around and cheered (duh!) but the way Erika and the others talked about the work plan for their squad it was clear that they did more than that.

“Hey, why don’t you join the squad?” Erika suggested.

“We do need more tumblers.” Kumari pointed out.

“Yeah.” Ximena agreed. “How are your back handsprings?”

“Ummm...nonexistent?”  Amara admitted, although the idea did sound nice. “I do have a mean cartwheel, though.”

The girls chuckled.

“Okay, maybe we can help you find another club if volleyball and cheerleading won’t do it for ya.” Erika smiled and stood, walking towards a notice board and taking a poster version of the clubs and associations list.

“Let’s see then.”

They tried to summarize each club as best as they could, counting the pros and cons and telling her about the people in them.

“What’s the Wolf Kingdom Club?” Amara asked, slightly amused by the odd names.

Everyone grunted, which Amara took as a bad sign.

“That’s the historical reenactment club.” Erika said. “They do everything medieval, and I mean everything.”

“Except dying from the plague.” Kumari muttered.

“So that’s a no?” Amara inquired.

“Depends.” Ximena said. “Do you like dancing with seven layers of clothing on and churning your own butter?”

“Pass.” Amara said.  

And so they spent the rest of the lunch break going over the list in hopes of finding something for Amara, but nothing seemed to catch her attention. Kara spoke on occasions whenever she felt in danger of being forgotten.

By the time the bell rung, they’ve managed to narrow it down to the basketball team and the basket weaving club. She had the height and the jump for the first one and the skills for the last one.

“If you change your mind, you should go with Emi to the tryouts after school.” Erika reminded her as they walked towards Amara’s classroom.

She nodded weakly, lost in thought.

Erika sighed and tapped her shoulder, making their eyes meet.

“Look, I don’t know a lot about volleyball, but I do know that it shares something in common with cheerleading.”

Amara arched an eyebrow. Then, Erika grabbed her hands, the blonde's lightly tanned skin clashing with Amara's russet complexion. Their eyes met, and Erika’s had one of the most serious expressions Amara had ever seen.

“Jumps are the most thrilling part, as well as the hardest.” She said. “When we jump, we don’t take steps back, not even to gain momentum. It’s always forwards, full force.”

Amara had so many questions about those words, yet she didn’t ask. Was it fear or confusion that stopped her? She didn’t knew. But for a moment she was sure the girl was saying that there was only one way to go.

Forward.

[darkjanet2]

Drusilla's Soul Chapter 10

Back in San Francisco, Ca

Drusilla’s house-

Drusilla was training in her home. She was doing kickboxing, punching a bag, she was doing bench press and weightlifting. And of course she was doing Meditation to calm her mind, it treated anxiety, depression, pain, and gained her sanity. After she finished training, she took a hot shower washing her hair with Herbal Essences with the fragrance of rose hips. She moaned with bliss as she massaged her scalp and then rinsed the suds from her head. She then picked out Olay Total effects 7 Body Wash and poured into the loofah and washing her ivory, naked body to make her skin smooth and soft. Now she turned off the shower and blindly picked out a white towel around her body and got out of the shower.

Drusilla put on a silk lilac camisole and short, and she blow-dried her brunette hair. She sprayed deodorant in her armpits. She went to the living room and watched TV. In a few seconds later, she turned on her iPhone X to logged in her social media. She wondered what Brittney and David were talking about, this app was called Tinder, right? Yes, she remembered that night talking about the app to start on a date. She wasn’t quiet sure how to use it, but she would give it a try. She already created an account a night ago, she logged in, to her curiosity, she clicked the tutorial to learn how to do setting, locations, maximum distance, gender, and age. Now she finally understood. She began to create her profile to picture herself, her name, her age, her age, and her location. She was a woman who seeking men.

She read “About you” profile description.

‘About me? Hmm…’ Drusilla thought.

She wrote it about herself that she liked reading books, playing video game, cooking, playing with her cat. She then wrote her current job that she was a private investigator. And when she was done, she began to seek handsome men. Of course, she had sexual experience with Angelus and Spike, but they were long dead in Boxer Rebellion in China. They no longer terrorized them. Now that Drusilla was a heroine, and she saved people from horrendous vampires.

Now she began to seek handsome men in profiles, she tapped likes, crosses, and super likes.

A screen suddenly popped up a notification on her phone, she tapped it. It revealed a redhead drew cut hairstyle, fair skin, green eyes, muscular, wearing a gray sweatshirt and red jeans. He was handsome, and his name was Nicholas. He was 26, and he was from Trenton, NJ.

Nicholas: Hi, how are you?

Drusilla replied.

Drusilla: Hi. I’m fine. And you?

Nicholas: I’m doing fine.

Drusilla: That’s good to hear. :)

Nicholas: What are you doing?

Drusilla: Nothing, just watching TV.

Nicholas: Are you bored?

Drusilla: Not really. I think it’s my first time to use Tinder. A friend of mine told me that night she wanted me to chat any people. You know, like dating.

Nicholas: Ah, I see. You’re here for a date.

Drusilla: Hahaha, I don’t know. I’m quite kinda nervous.

Nicholas: Oh, don’t be. Maybe I can help you to overcome your nervousness and socially awkward.

Drusilla: Really? You’ll help me?

Nicholas: Of course. Here, let me send you a link.

Nicholas sent her a link and Drusilla click the link. She watched the video of how to overcome your socially awkward and make those conversations smoothly. And when she finished, she thanked Nicholas for the advice.

20 Minutes Later

Drusilla had chatted so many guys, thanks to Nicholas’ help. Everything went smoothly. It was really fun to chat many people on the internet. She went to the kitchen to get pig blood. She poured into the mug and warmed it up in the microwave. She took out the mug from the microwave and sat on a couch to relax. She heard ding notification from her phone. She looked at notification from Tinder app that said you got matched. Curiously, she opened her Tinder app to reveal a handsome man in his mid-20s. He had midnight black hair, grey eyes, muscular, white T-shirt with black leather. His name was Leon. He was from San Francisco that Drusilla lived in the same city.

Leon: Hi, how are you doing?

Drusilla: I’m fine. How about yourself?

Leon: I’m okay. What are you doing?

Drusilla: I’m drinking my tea. And what about you?

Leon: I’m working on my music production. I’m a DJ producer.

Drusilla: Oh, that sounds neat.

Leon: Yeah, do you like music?

Drusilla: Of course, I’m a music lover.

Leon: Lol, well, you’ve got a lot of fun, huh?

Leon: What’s your favorite genre?

Drusilla: I like techno, dance, pop, country, and rock.

Leon: Cool. I like hip-hop, dance, trance, techno, and electronic.

Drusilla: That’s awesome.

Leon: Lol, well, I’ve never seen a girl who has such beauty.

Drusilla: Lol, you’re making me blush, Leon.

Leon: Oh, am I? I’ve never seen you around here before. Can you show me a photo of you?

Drusilla: My photo?

Leon: Yeah. I wanna see what you look like.

Drusilla: Show me first.

Leon sent himself a photo to her, revealing a handsome guy putting hands in his pockets wearing a black leather jacket, white shirt, blue jeans, and white sneakers.

Drusilla: You’re so handsome.

Leon: Thanks. And yours?

Drusilla: Okay.

Drusilla sent herself a photo to him wearing a silk lilac camisole and shorts in a sexy pose, revealing her cleavage a bit from her camisole.

Leon: You’re so gorgeous.

Drusilla: Thank you.

Leon: Hey, I was wondering if you want to go out with me.

Drusilla: Yeah, sure. Wanna start a tomorrow night?

Leon: Yeah, tomorrow will be perfect. How about we go to dining place?

Drusilla: I think I know the place. It’s one of my favorite dining restaurant called The Big 4. How about this?

Leon: Perfect. I will see you tomorrow night. Meet me 6 PM, okay? ;)

Drusilla: Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow, Leon.

End of conversation.

‘Yes! Yes! He asked me out!’ Drusilla thought, jumping excitedly. ‘Better mark my calendar.’ She marked the calendar it was her first date tomorrow at six o’clock in the night. She couldn’t wait.

The Next Night

Drusilla caught an Uber to ride down to the dining restaurant. She glanced at her watch it was 5:45 PM. It was 15 minutes before her arrival at 6:00 PM. She had to be there for her first date. The Uber driver had arrived to his destination, she thanked the driver and got out of his car. She scanned around the area looking for Leon. With a sound of car honking caught her attention. It was a black Mercedes-Benz. A man got out of his car and walked toward Drusilla.

“Hi, are you Drusilla?” he asked.

“Yes, I am. And you are Leon?” She asked.

“That’s me. How are you tonight?” Leon asked.

“I’m doing great. I got here early.” said Drusilla.

“That’s great. So, shall we have a bite to eat?” asked Leon.

Drusilla nodded, “Yeah. Let’s go.”

They entered the dining restaurant, the host welcomed them and guided them to the dining table and gave them a menu. The waiter asked them what they want to order. Leon ordered Cioppino and Drusilla ordered salmon. He offered them a red wine. Their orders would be here in 30 minutes.

“I love how this restaurant is so huge. You can hear the piano playing. It’s marvelous.” said Leon.

“I know, I’m just glad I chose the right place. And I’m glad I meet you for the first time.” said Drusilla, smiling.

Leon laughed, “I know, right? This place is gorgeous that I’ve never been in there before.”

“So I say this is your first time to being in here in the restaurant, indeed.” said Drusilla.

“Hm, you’re very sharp-witted.” said Leon.

“So, uh, how’s your family doing?” She asked.

“Oh, they’re alright. My family and I are very close,” Leon said. “ We talked through things. My parents are so amazing, they’re brilliant.”

“That’s nice. I had a family, well… I lost my family when I was very young. They died in a sort of accident.” said Drusilla, sadly.

Of course, she had to lie. Her family was killed by Angelus in right front of her. He mentally tortured her mind that melt away her sanity before she sired by Angelus. She shed a tear a bit, and when Leon felt sympathetic toward her and held her hand. Drusilla looked at Leon in the eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Dru. I didn’t realize.” said Leon.

“Uh, no. It’s fine. I’m just get over with.” said Drusilla, wiped her tears.

The waiter finally had their order, and they started to eat.

After they finished eating their food and desserts and paid the food bill. They bid farewell to the host and walked to Leon’s car. Leon drove Drusilla home. They had so much fun tonight. Leon had arrived to Drusilla’s house. Drusilla gave him a kiss.

“Thanks for riding me home.” smiled Drusilla.

“Oh, it’s no problem. Here, take my card. Call me when you need me.” said Leon, gave Drusilla a business card.

“I will. Good night.” said Drusilla.

“Good night.” said Leon, began to depart at Drusilla’s house.

Drusilla entered her housed and closed the door behind her. She sighed. She was so exhausted tonight. She took off her heeled sandals and walked to the bathroom upstairs. She unzipped her red dress and put on a robe. She turned on hot water for a bath. She turned on a water jet, she had a jacuzzi tub. She poured bubble bath and Epsom salt into the tub. She tore the rose petal and sprinkled into the tub. She turned off the water. She went downstairs to the kitchen to get a bucket of ice with champagne, and picked out the wine glass from the cabinet, and she went back upstairs to the bathroom. Next, she found some white candles from the closet. She poured herself a champagne, lighted those candles, and turned off the light with the beautiful alight candles. She took off her robe and turned on a radio with jazz music. She picked a glass of champagne and got into the tub and relax.

After she bathed, she dried herself and put on a lilac nightgown, and she brushed her teeth. And now she blew all the candles and went to sleep.

[pain-in-the-asguardian]

Pillar

On Ao3 here.

Clouds gathered overhead as the two of them trudged down the street.  There was something heavy and strange in the air.  Not the sense of a storm, exactly.  He couldn't put his finger on it, and he was too damn tired to even try.  The two of them had been through more than enough in the past 24 hours. “Some weird shit's goin' down, yanno?”

Rude grunted a reply, eyes hidden behind his shades even in the darkness, though Reno knew the things had night vision.  “Even if it is, not our problem right now.  You heard the boss.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Two entire days of R&R, just for destroying part of the city.  Fan-fuckin'-tastic.”

“You sure you can make it?  We can catch a ride.”

“I can make it a damn block, yo.”  Rude had insisted that Reno stay at his place, at least for tonight.  It was walking distance to HQ, and his partner had made it clear he wasn't about to let him out of his sight until he was certain Reno wasn't going to fall apart.  In truth, Reno felt the same.  Rude didn't show his pain, but that didn't mean it wasn't there.  He wasn't about to leave his partner alone tonight. Not after what he'd been forced to do.  Because of Reno...

The effects of the healing materia were wearing off, and he was feeling it.  The magic had worked well enough to allow them to complete their mission of escorting the new President to his castle, and taking out an AVALANCHE copter or two, but it could only last so long.  Reno could sense the burns resurfacing, myriad little cuts and bruises making themselves known once more.  They wouldn't be as bad, thank Ramuh, but the materia wasn't a true cure-all.  Only rest and time could do that.

They continued in silence, both lost in their own thoughts of the tragedy they'd unleashed.  The heavy clouds overhead opened just as they reached the apartment complex, rain beginning with a vengeance as they ducked into the lobby.  Perks of a Turk salary meant actually getting to live topside and in a fair amount of comfort.  Rude unlocked the door of his unit, and the two of them stumbled in, only slightly damp.  Reno blinked in the sudden brightness as his partner flipped on the lights.  He'd been here on a few occasions throughout the years, but just for an evening of private drinking and the occasional action flick marathon.

“I need a fuckin' drink. Or twelve.”

The apartment was a decent size, with an open kitchen and living room.  A hallway lead off one side into the bedroom and bathroom.  Rude strode to the hall cabinet, pulling out a towel and tossing it over.  “Here. Shower first, while you're still on your feet.  Then we can drink.  Otherwise you'll drown yourself.”  He removed his sunglasses, wiping them down.  Reno glared at him, and he returned the look evenly.  “I'll find something for you to wear.  Oh, and shampoo in the cabinet.  Figured I should keep some around.”

“Yeah... Thanks.”  He rolled his eyes, but didn't have the energy to really protest.  Clutching the towel, he trudged toward the bathroom, retrieving the shampoo as he did.  Once inside, he peeled off the burnt and blackened suit.  The material was meant to offer some protection from all elements, up to a point.  Guess the explosions were a bit too much.  He huffed a humorless laugh as the once-fine material dropped to the floor in an unceremonious pile.  No salvaging that.  His wounds were visible again, purple bruises blooming across his cheeks and chest.  Well, he'd worry about it after he'd washed off.

Stepping into the shower, he let the hot water fall over him.  It stung, and he winced.  Hot, too damn hot.  Steam rose around him like smoke, and he could imagine himself once again surrounded by fire. It was hard to breathe...  Shit.  Gritting his teeth, he turned down the temperature.  The cold water was just as biting, but it jolted him out of his reverie, and at least it didn't carry memories of flames.  He braced a hand against the wall, droplets falling from the crimson strands that fell limply over his eyes.

It was done.  It was past, and there was nothing he... they... could do about it.  Goddamn it.  An entire sector... All of those people... And for what? What the hell had Shinra been thinking?  And he hadn't even seen it happen. The true extent... because he'd fucking fainted. Reno shuddered.  He didn't know if he was crying, or if it was just the steady, cold rain.  It's over, it's done. Thinking about it ain't gonna help.  Don't. You're a Turk.  You don't get the luxury of a conscience.  He sucked in a breath, a tremor running through his slender, bruised frame.  C'mon asshole, clean yourself up.

The body wash smelled like Rude.  Something citrusy, refined.  It felt strange, and just a little bit pleasing, to surround himself with that scent.  Reno focused on it, allowing himself a few moments to bask in the idea of it before remembering that he wasn't the only one in need of a shower. He gave his hair a cursory wash, much quicker than the time he'd normally spend.  Tea tree.  Rude knew him well. Rinsing off, he stepped out, drying his hair as best he could with the towel before wrapping it around his waist.  Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, he sighed.  He looked like shit.  Tired, slightly cleaner shit.  The burn on his cheek had returned, as had the one across his chest.  He didn't want to know what his back looked like.

“Alright, partner.  Your turn, yo,” he called as he stepped out.  After a moment, Rude appeared in the doorway, a rather large first aid kit in his hands.  

“First this.”  He held it up.

“Tch. I'm fine.”  He knew it wasn't convincing, given that his full, artful collection of wounds was now on full display.  Rude gave a grunt of disapproval, nodding toward the bed.  Reno sank down with a soft curse, glaring at the wall.  The injuries might not be as bad as they had been, but they still needed care.  He'd been allowed to leave the sick bay only because Rude had insisted he'd look after him.  He hissed as the other began applying salve to the resurfacing burns.  

“Stuff stinks, yo.  I just washed all that shit off!”  He got a noncommittal sound in return.  Rude was trying to be gentle, but the man didn't have the softest fingers.  What wasn't burned was bruised, and what wasn't bruised still felt tender.  Still, he'd rather have his partner's hands on him then the damn Shinra medics.  He trusted Rude, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't like the sensation of those fingers against his flesh.  Not that he would... or could... admit it.  He felt Rude press something to his back.  Gauze. Yeah, he figured that sore spot was probably bad... But he wasn't as bandaged up as he'd expected.  That was something, at least.   A sputter of protest escaped him when Rude suddenly gripped his chin, albeit loosely, turning his head so he could apply some salve to his right cheek.  Pale blue eyes met warm brown, and Reno's breath hitched in his throat.

“Quit squirming.”

“Mmmph,” he responded, his stomach making some odd sort of maneuver at being caught in that gaze, body stilling as new gauze was set over the injury.

“That's the worst of them.  Not great, but not too horrible.  Definitely better than before.”  Rude set the kit aside and rose to his feet. He nodded his head toward a black shirt by Reno's side.  “You can wear that.  Should be loose enough to be comfortable.  Booze in the kitchen.”

“Damn. Star treatment here, yo.  Bandages and booze.  You're the best, partner.”

There was a flash of something that might have been a grin before Rude turned toward the bathrrom and closed the door.  Reno picked up the indicated shirt, slipping it over his head.  It was a pajama top, and so it was meant to be loose even on Rude.  That meant Reno was nearly swimming in it.  The shoulders were too wide, hanging off his own awkwardly and lengthening the already overlong sleeves.  It hung low enough to easily cover him once he slipped out of the bath towel.

“Damn Behemoth,” he mumbled with a grin, rolling the sleeves up as best he could.  The fabric was silky enough that it didn't hurt against his skin, and … it too held Rude's scent.  How fuckin' domestic. He glanced toward the door, the sound of falling water emanating from beyond.  Outside of that, the room was silent.  Wthout Rude's solid, immediate presence to occupy them, his thoughts slowly started to drift again, back toward the ruins of Sector 7.  The soft smile faded from his lips.

He'd screwed up, overestimated those damn rebels.  He'd gotten his ass handed to him – him, the Turks' 2nd in Command, and because he hadn't been strong enough... And he'd almost lost his partner.  His stomach churned.  He'd almost lost Rude, and then he'd forced him to... To do the unthinkable.  His fingers curled into the supple material of the shirt's hem.  Rude... How could he act so casual about it?  Even for him, it was...  Too much, too damn much.  He hadn't escaped unscathed either, and Reno knew it. They'd both taken their share of hits today.  Dammit, the least he could do was look after his partner the same way he'd been looked after.  He'd love nothing more than to drink himself into oblivion, but he'd survive another few minutes of sobriety. He could do that fucking much.

His mind kept trying to turn itself toward Sector , and he forced himself to look around the room, to find something – anything else to focus on. It was a simply furnished room, all clean lines and uncluttered space.  A dark gray comforter with plum sheets. Sleek black drawers and nightstand, everything in its proper place.  The only things that didn't match, clashing noticeably with the rest of the room, were an odd collection of items from Wall Market that they'd picked up over the years.  Materia pop figures and colorful baubles from the various vending machines, and even a garishly colored fake flower lei from Costa del Sol.  Just a little quirky.  Like the man himself, once you got to know him.  Reno found himself grinning again despite his mood.

The bathroom door opened, startling him out of his memories.  He raised his head, and Rude quirked a brow in question, clad in nothing but a towel.

“What? Thought you were gonna get out of treatment?  Nuh-uh.  Not gonna get shitfaced before I see you bandaged up too, yanno?” Rude's injuries were nowhere near as bad as his own, but just as he'd suspected, the other hadn't gotten away unharmed.  His toned frame bore its fair share of scrapes and bruises, though he hadn't burned as much.

“Hmph. Fair enough.”  Rude dropped to the mattress next to Reno, causing it to dip precariously.  

“Goddamn tank, yo.”  That got an affirmative, and slightly smug-sounding noise.  The most severe injury was a cut along his left arm, though it was nearly hidden by the lines of the tattoo that wound its way around the limb.  Reno carefully smoothed the salve over it, followed by some gauze.  “Dunno how you ya do it... ya got hide like a dragon, yanno?”

“You got speed.  I got defense.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Rub it in, yo.”  He finished up by taping some gauze over the few burns Rude managed to get, mostly along his back.  After carefully pressing the tape along the curve of his muscle, he sat back.  “There.  Now we get to be uncomfortable and itchy all damn night. And now... We need liquor.  Lots of it.”

“Agreed.”

He padded out to the main room.  Rude followed a few moments later, having abandoned the towel for the matching bottoms to the shirt Reno wore.  There was an impressive collection of alcohol already set on the table. That must have been what Rude was up to while he'd been in the shower “Truly, you're prepared for any situation.”  He smirked as Rude poured them shots.  

“Be a shit Turk if I wasn't.”

For a time, silence hung between them.  What was there to say?  Both of them were thinking the same thoughts, but neither could put them into words.  So they took shots.  A bit of everything from a fancy Costa del Sol rum to some cheap flavored vodka.  Even on the best days, he was a lightweight, and it only took a few burning gulps for the heat to start spreading through his veins.  His thoughts grew fuzzy, but no less dark.  Across from him, Rude was as stoic as always, though his cheeks had a darker flush to them. Eventually they took to just passing bottles between them. How did he do it?  How could he be so goddamn calm.  Like it was just any other day, like these injuries were from any other fucking job? He turned to glare out the kitchen window.

The lights of Sector 8 shone beyond, the rain throwing distorted reflections on every surface.  Nothing looked amiss from this side. No smoke, no fires.  A car would slosh by every so often, and the occasional unlucky traveler braving the elements.  It was hard to imagine that the neighboring plate was simply... gone.  No, not gone.  In smoldering pieces on the ground below, scattered across the ruins of the slums.  Because of Shinra.  Because of them. He snarled wordlessly.

“Reno.” He jumped at the sound, head whipping around so fast he made himself dizzy.

“What?” The other held up a bottle, head inclining in silent question.

“How can ya be ssso goddamn calm?”  He clenched his fists, short nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms.  “I... We... Th' whole fucking plate.  Jusst like that.  Like it was just a nest of wererats, and not a whole fuckin' sssection of th' city!”

Rude's eyes narrowed, and he made a show of staring into the bottle, though a sharp hiss of breath escaped him.  “Like Tseng said,” he slurred after a beat.  “We hadn't done it, someone else would've.” He swirled alcohol around a moment before taking an impressive swig. “We did it our way.  Did what we could.”  He winced at the burn.

“I know that, yo!”  Reno rose, slamming his hand on the table and rattling the bottles.  “Ya think I don' fuckin' know that?”  His breathing came in ragged gasps, bruised ribs aching.  “Doesn't make it better!  This ain't what the Turks do!  We ain't th' best people in th' world but somethin' like that...”  His face was hot, and he could feel the teltale pinprick of tears at the corners of his eyes. Dammit.  When did he get to be this weak?  “What about Zirconiade?  Everyone... They're GONE because of what they did! Midgar.. the world.. It's ssstill here, Shinra's still here makin' shit decisions because they stopped that thing!  Because of the Turks!”  He ran a hand through his still-damp hair.  “They saved everyone.  And what did we do?  We...”  He shook his head.  “No... Fuck that.”

“We didn't even do shit.  You... Because I failed, you had to...” He tried to fight the tears, but it was useless.  He was the second in command.  He'd started the damn thing, he should have finished it.  Instead, he'd allowed himself to get beaten into unconsciousness, and left his partner to do the deed alone.  And that after nearly getting himself blown to hell.  Reno took a step back, swaying uncertainly.  The world was spinning, and he lost his balance.  And suddenly Rude was there, supporting him, strong hands gripping his shoulders.  When did he even..

“Reno. Enough.”

He managed to stand on his own two feet, though still with the other bracing him, as he waited for the room to stop spinning, for his ears to stop ringing.

“Yeah...” His voice sounded strange to him.  Shaky. “Yeah.” Gripping Rude's arm, Reno turned to face him. Or rather, his shoulder.  Goddamn skyscraper of a human.  He sighed, resting his forehead against one tattooed pec.  “'M'sorry...  It was my fault, yanno....”

“Reno.” His name rumbled in Rude's chest like distant thunder.  “It's not. You were down there longer.  And held your own.  Pretty damn impressive from where I was sitting.”

He shook his head.  He hadn't done a good enough job on his own to keep them from taking down the helicopter.  Shit, some superior he'd been.

“Thought... Thought I'd lost ya there for a hot second, yanno?  On top of every other shit thing... I thought...”

“Gonna take more than that.  Gotta be flashier, too.”

“Flashier than a fuckin' flaming helicopter crash?”  He felt Rude shrug in response, and actually gave a small, huffed laugh at that. This close, he could feel Rude's heartbeat.  A strong, steady pulse. His own was fluttering like a caged bird in comparison.  Reno closed his eyes, trying to focus on that rhythm. The only thing keeping him standing, keeping him grounded, was Rude.  That's always how it went.  Ever since they'd first teamed up, so many years ago.  The man was like a pillar, and the irony of that thought didn't escape him.  He didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry at it. Rude rumbled something at him, and he blinked, raising his head.  

“Huh?”

“Said I'm still here.”  He squeezed Reno's uninjured shoulder.  “And I'm gonna keep bein' here.  And.  You need to get some rest. Now.  It's late.  C”mon, you can have the bed, I'm feeling generous.”

“Wow, lucky me.  Your generosity is astoundin', yanno?”  He kept his tone light, even though he wanted to protest.  It was futile, and his partner was right.  This day had been a week.  But if Rude left him, and if he closed his eyes... what would he see?  What would he be left with?The thought scared him.  He felt Rude start to move... and suddenly he didn't want that.  Not yet...    

“Wait...” Shit, when did his voice sound that small?  “Just... stay like this a little longer, will ya?” I don't want you to leave. I don't wanna be alone.  Damn it, he was being stupid.  He was drunk, his body hot and sore.  He'd been all those things before, but not like this.  Not combined with the storm of anger, fear, and sorrow in his mind.  And Rude... God he was so close.  Shit, they'd never been like this before.  Close.  Just them.  

Stop thinking stupid shit.  You've fucked up enough.  

Reno raised his head, pale beryl meeting deep chocolate as Rude stared down at him, unreadable.

I almost lost him...  

And then, before he could think, he raised up on his toes, crushing his lips against Rude's.  For a few fluttering heartbeats, it was amazing.  And then his whisky-soaked brain caught up with his body and he jerked back, panic buzzing through his entire frame.  Rude blinked down at him, dark eyes wide and lips parted just so.

“I'm... sorry, yo.  I didn't...”  Of all the fucking times.  You're fucking drunk and the world is falling down around you, and you're gonna destroy the one goddamn pillar you got left. Some goddamn professional you are.

Shit, shit shit shit shit-

And then Rude's lips were on his again and all of his frenzied worries collapsed in on themselves.  He closed his eyes, taught muscles relaxing, melting slowly into the other's arms.  When Rude finally pulled away, he left Reno blinking, thoughts swirling fuzzily and bumping into one another.  He opened and closed his mouth a few times without any sound, let alone words.  “Whhh?” he finally managed.

“Wanted to do that for a while now, actually.”

“Y-you did?  But I thought...”  He struggled to nudge his thoughts back in line.  It was like herding cats.  “Thought ya... Shit, I thought ya didn't swing this way...”

“Swing both ways.”

“Then why... Why the fuck didn't ya say something, asshole?”

“Didn't think I was your type.  Why didn't you?  Idiot.”

“I was tryin'a respect you!” “By eavesdropping on my dates?”

“That was one time, yo!”

“So you say.”  But he was grinning.

Reno blinked at him, mouth agape, trying to take it all in.  He gave up, letting his head droop forward to rest against Rude's chest once more.  “Fuckin' bastard,” he muttered into the warmth of his skin.

Rude's frame jerked with what might have been a laugh, if he was prone to such a thing.  “You wanna argue about it more, save it for morning.”  He made to usher Reno toward the bedroom again.  “Now, sleep.  You're practically delirious.  Don't want that.”

This time, Reno allowed himself to be led, dropping to the mattress with a groan.  As soon as he stopped being vertical, his body was more than happy to remind him just how exhausted he was.  Oh, he was going to be in pain in the morning. And have one hell of a hangover.  And... the darkness, the horror, was still there, on the edge of his mind. It would always be there, a part of him now, and he knew it.  But for a little while, at least, he had something to keep it at bay.  Even if whatever happened was just for tonight.

“Hey. You still plannin' on sleepin' on the couch, yo?”

“Hmmm.” Rude made a show of pretending to consider.  “Only if you don't move your scrawny drunk ass over.”

He let Rude slide past him with a sigh of exasperation that was only a little forced.  Once the taller man had settled, Reno lay down again. He felt Rude's back against his, a firm unwavering presence.  He took a deep breath, letting his eyes drift closed.  For now, in this moment, he could breathe again.  Their world had changed. Irreparably.  Soon, they'd have to pick themselves up and step back through the door of Shinra HQ.  They'd have to face the consequences of their actions, and so would all of Shinra.  

They couldn't change the past, they couldn't stop the destruction of Sector 7.  That blood was always going to be on their hands.  He could only hope that the new President would never ask anything so terrible of the Turks again.  Rufus had done his share of scheming, but he seemed to have a cooler head on his shoulders than the old man.  And they still had each other.  He'd screwed up tonight, yet his partner was still here.  Rude was his pillar, the one who kept him from collapsing completely.  He only hoped he could be the same for Rude.

[thetrendingfashions]

Naturally blacken hair with a chemical-free color

New delhi date. 29 January 2021, Friday

Nowadays it is common for hair to turn white at an early age. Then some people apply it in their hair because of the color fashion. Which causes the real color of the hair to disappear. As a result the hair turns white and you always have to color the hair to hide it. But dyes with constant chemicals have a bad effect on the hair. Causing hair to fall out and weaken. If you are also bothered by graying of hair but want to avoid chemical dyes, color your hair this way at home. Then see how you can get rid of white hair without chemical dyes.

Hina, yogurt and tea leaves

This is the best way to give your hair a radish brown color. Mix yoghurt, lemon juice and boiled tea leaves in water and strain it and apply it all over the hair. Rinse with water after two hours. After the hair dries, apply oil and shampoo the next day.

You can try natural hair dye made from henna at home which will also color the hair and keep the hair healthy.

Henna, sweet neem and sesame oil

This is a very effective way to dye hair black. Boil sweet neem in sesame oil and keep this mixture for one or two days. Before mixing henna in the hair, mix this mixture in henna and heat it and apply it on the hair and leave it for two hours. Then wash your hair with Shikakai or shampoo.

Hina with coffee powder

This is an excellent way to dye hair gray. When steeping henna for hair, first add half a teaspoon of coffee powder. This will make the hair color coffee brown.

Hina with camphor oil

Heat the camphor oil in an iron pan. Mix the henna well and leave it for a day or two. When applying it, first mix warm water in it and then apply. This will not only darken the hair color but also strengthen the hair roots.

For more information please go to https://ift.tt/3bbz2Ph

[beyondedenton]

A CUTE SURVEY (repost, please don’t reblog)

Character: Mason Atlas

1 ) what does your muse smell like? A blend of his menthol cigarettes and a woody-leather cologne. Being a crossroads demon, there is also the unfortunate subtle scent of sulfur, hence the use of a strong cologne on travel days.

2 ) how often does your muse bathe/shower? any habits? Depends on his schedule. Usually before bed to relax, and usually showers unless with Charles. Collection nights and other messy activities call for both a quick rinse and a long soak to relax.

3 ) does your muse have any tattoos or piercings? Only two scars. A bullet entry wound on his abdomen (from when he killed the body he now possesses) and an X over his heart (a gift from his husband).

4 ) any body movement quirks ( ex: leg shaking )? Flexing of his fingers to fists when irritated. Usually some kind of foot tapping when impatient with his brother. Rarely does he make an effort to conceal his emotions. Whether furious or proud of someone, it shows.

5 ) what do they sleep in? Usually naked if alone or with his husband. Tank shirt and sweatpants when at Charles’ school.

6 ) what’s their favorite piece of clothing? His brown leather jacket and fingerless gloves he’s had for years. He enjoys simple black suits with his well cared for snakeskin oxford shoes. Black tank shirts and sweatpants in the privacy of friends and family.

7 ) what do they do when they wake up? He usually washes his face first, studied his features, trims/maintains his facial hair and brushes his teeth. He then sees to Charles and the children. When alone, he will usually make a cup of tea and pour over newspapers or history books, usually war related.

8 ) how do they sleep?  position? He used to sleep on his stomach, but recently (past few decades recently) he more often sleeps on his back, chest exposed. Especially now with Charles.

9 ) what do their hands feel like? Strong hands with short trimmed nails. The pads of his fingers usually feel rough despite his ability to heal. Borderline hot to the touch.

10 ) if you kissed them, what would they usually taste like?  Menthol cigarettes if not cough drops. Maybe earl gray tea other days. Sometimes gin.

TAGGED BY: Kind of sort of @askprofessorx​ TAGGING: If you’re reading this, you’re tagged! Choose your favorite muse!