#extraordinary you wallpaper

[btssoul7]

Kim Hyeyoon 💜

[bysmeraldo]

“Even if you were to end up in a different time, I would jump over time and space to see you.”

[dramalocks]

☇✈ extraordinary you ; simples ♡❞

☇ like or reblog ⋮ @art-nama

☇ don’t repost our edits

[hypnagogics]

SUPERBLOOD WOLFMOON → PROLOGUE

read this first! ▪︎ playlist ▪︎ series m.list ▪︎ next chapter

☆: honestly suuuper proud of how this came out ngl, please enjoy!! art in newspaper graphic drawn by the wonderful, amazing, multi-talented, freakin' incredible @sharkthrob ♡ ◇: sfw, both start out as young teens, ends with time skip to "present day", relatively mild (at least imo...idk) violence/gory descriptions, arachnophobia warning (lol), this is also a play on the "left behind" dlc!! ;) ♧: 2.2k wc

Summer, 2035

“60, 59, 58, 57….” The ambient droning of the abandoned mall’s timeworn neon lighting hung in the air as you stood against the old, mold-scented wall, the wallpaper peeling off in chunks, counting down the seconds as your best friend ran to find a hiding place. You could hear her gleeful giggles and pitter-patter of footfalls echo off the structure’s walls while she frantically searched for an effective crevice to stow herself away in, and break her losing streak once and for all.

Unbeknownst to you, Ellie had reached the complete opposite end of the building in no time at all, stumbling upon a crater in the floor, which opened up to the basement. “Fuck’s this?” She mumbles to herself, peering inside the inky darkness of the unexplored space, her sense of danger being overshadowed by the increasing curiosity, and your progressing countdown.

She idles for a moment debating whether to go inside because if she did, she’d definitely win, but there was also the possibility of getting hurt. She chooses to believe the former regardless. Glancing back in your direction one last time to make sure you weren't cheating and spying through your fingers, she hoists herself down, grunting as she falls harshly onto the damaged linoleum tiles.

Ellie winces as she gathers herself to stand, and takes in her surroundings. A long, eerie, brick-lined corridor extends further than she can see. If she is already here, might as well check it out, she reasons.

Stale air fills her lungs almost painfully, the heavy odor of mildew making her eyes water. Through the crack above she hears you finish the countdown and yell out, “I’m gonna get you!” She coughs, collects herself and begins running into the darkness, there was no way you’d find her down here.

“Shit, shit, shit gotta hide- what the…” She reaches the end of the unfamiliar hallway, ending up in a spacious but empty room, the walls covered in some sort of graffiti. She rubs at her eyes to clear them of any debris particles floating around, and so she could fully observe her surroundings once her eyes adjusted to the absence of light.

An abnormally large rat scurries over her feet, squeaking, making her jump and withhold a startled yelp. That was close, she almost gave away her location. Continuing to walk around the space, she observes the graffiti covering the brittle, withered walls. Splashes of vibrant color in an array of abstract forms stretching on, symbols and sigils of all kinds painted within. Jagged, angular glyphs, containing profanities scrawled in deranged strokes, vulgar phallic scribblings earning an immature chuckle from the girl as she continues to inspect the space, seemingly forgetting about the game of hide and seek entirely.

She’s left breathless when she reaches a peculiar piece of graffiti separate from the bulk of the rest, staring at it with wonder. Extraordinary, brilliant hues of color were painted on a mural spanning the whole side wall of the room, with what looked like a gargantuan spider painted in the center of it all. The illustration of the web seemed to sparkle, stand out and contrast the intimidating blackness of the room, the arachnid’s limbs painted with such precision where she couldn't spot a single mistake, as if it was created with machinery or similar.

Out of the corner of her eye she spots some movement, and from the shadows emerges an iridescent spider—the exact one painted—and it crawls along the mural until it stops right in front of her at eye level. She watches as its countless peepers bore into hers, utterly transfixed, unable to look away. Its body shines, reminding her of a scarab beetle. She wonders what kind it is, it’s completely unrecognizable and foreign to her, however big of an interest in bugs she has.

A sickly dread builds in the pit of her stomach, it’s only now dawned on her just how bad of an idea this was. She silently hopes you can hear her telepathic pleas, pick up on the panicked mantras she’s whispering under her breath and come save her from the mutant creature.

Budding panic rises in her chest, paralyzing her with fear, and she can't do anything apart from watch the eight-legged beast suddenly quadruple in size with a sharp crunch of its exoskeleton snapping, thin, twiggy legs turning muscular and strong, dagger-sharp spines ripping their way through the armor-like exterior, jutting out towards every direction. It has changed form entirely, resembling something that only exists in the confines of a comic book or science fiction film.

Ellie sucks in a harsh, shaky breath through her teeth and braces herself to quickly plan an exit, but before she has the chance to begin running, the arachnid’s jaws burst open, the sharp teeth gleaming as if they were made of a metal alloy. She didn't know spiders had teeth, or made any sounds, but she swore she heard it snarl, right before it leapt forward onto her with a speed faster than sound, tackling her onto the ground.

Adrenaline courses through her veins as she wrangles the spider, shrieking as it scratches and pierces her flesh wherever it can reach. It's feral, unlike anything she's ever seen or read about, its movements inharmonious, yet simultaneously neat and calculated. She’s miraculously dodging every strike, although growing weary rather quickly.

Finally, her instincts to fight kick in, and she frantically scans the room for a makeshift weapon. She’s holding the arachnid away from her, the sharp clashing of its jaws around the air echoing off the walls. Ellie squints, and in the dark she makes out some rusted pipes sticking out of the corner of the wall, and in a burst of strength shoves the creature off of her, bolting to grab the metal. It flies and crashes against the wall with a shrill squeal, its hideous form squirming to recover from the blow.

“Goddamnit, stupid SHIT."  She huffs breathlessly as she wrestles the metal, tugging with every morsel of her might to get it detach before the spider lunges again. The way she pushed it away left it stunned and bought her a mere smidgen of time to act, which she utilizes to strike the paralyzed creature. She hits it once, twice, and a third time, the lethal blow crushing it with a jarring smash.

The oversized spider’s limbs briefly twitch before stilling—oily, dark, navy blue blood pooling underneath its corpse. Ellie stands over it unsteadily, trying to catch her breath and process the fight she endured. All that against a spider. Where did that thing even come from? She didn't even wish to know at this point, and was just grateful she was alright.

She sways, before remembering why she ventured here in the first place—the game of hide and seek. You were still searching for her all around the upper floors of the mall, blissfully unaware of the chaos that just occurred below your feet. “Better get out of here.” Ellie mumbles into the dusty air, taking one last look at the ornamented walls of the room, and begins walking back to the main area where you were, emerging victorious in the game being the very last thing on her mind after all that. Even though she still achieved her goal.

With some difficulty she lifts herself out of the basement space into the main foyer of the mall, feeling fatigued, so she resorts to resting on the cool tiles momentarily to recuperate. 

Meanwhile, you were growing concerned about where she was, having searched every single nook and cranny you knew of to check, with no luck whatsoever. Having a bad feeling that something had happened to her, you return to the main area where the two of you agreed to meet at the end of the game if no one won, and were bewildered to find her laying on the ground.

“Ellie, where the hell were you?” You sprint to her side, almost tripping over a stray glass shard on the floor, and fall to your knees right next to her. She’s laying on her back, with a vague smile on her face. She opens her eyes and grins at you, chuckling at the fact she got her victory after all. “Heheh, you lost.”

You’re filled with relief that she’s fine, but beyond pissed at her for worrying you so much. Sighing, you stand up and nudge her side with your shoe, sputtering, “You idiot, I thought you died or something, what were you thinking?” Her expression falls the moment she sees how upset you got, so she sits up and points to the crack in the ground, trying to explain the situation.

“I was just in there, thought I'd go in there and see what's up, since we haven't been there before, but there’s nothing interesting, just an empty storage room. I promise.” She chews on her bottom lip, feeling rather guilty she’s decided to lie straight to your face like that, but wanted to minimize your worry as much as she could. She knows you’d freak if you heard what actually happened down there, and she wanted to just forget it.

Ellie sticks out her arm for you to pull her to her feet, only now taking notice of how many nicks, cuts and scratches she acquired in the ordeal, with some bizarre puncture wounds at the center of her forearm. Did it bite her? During the fight her focus wasn't anywhere apart from the creature attacking her, so she didn't feel it happen.

You notice her injuries at the same second she does, and open your mouth to say something about it, to lecture her for being reckless, but she beats you to it by stammering out a rapid clarification. “I’m fine, getting down there was a pain in the ass. The way in and out was a little sharp, that's all. We’ll just clean these, n’ I'll put some band-aids on, y’know.”

She avoids your suspicious glare and dusts herself off. “Let’s go back, I’m tired. Gotta enjoy my win. You gonna buy me some ice cream or somethin’? Think I deserve it. I'll even be generous enough to give you a bite!” She flashes you the signature toothy grin you’ve always loved so much, distracting from any residual suspicions you have about what she was up to. And so the two of you skipped out of the abandoned mall, never to return again.

Soon after your last time there, the mall was quickly scheduled for demolition due to “unpredictable and dangerous conditions.” You never ended up asking her if she ran into some trouble while hiding in the unexplored basement area, even though it remained a question in the back of your mind that surfaced whenever you caught a glimpse of the strange scar left on her forearm. Four round welts, perfect raised circles, placed as pairs opposite each other. One day you’d make her talk, but for now all you could do was be thankful that she was still with you, whatever may have happened during that game.

Winter, 2041

taggiesssss: @elliesexual @elliesbitchvenus @kawaiibreadbouquet-blog @williamellieslilho @flowrmoth @shestheheadlights @aouiaa @bready101 @shiimer @pascals-doll @boobdrug @starlight-savegery @vqxen @yk2enyx @seraphicsentences @k1ssesworld @lasting-lover @amberputh @syrenada @deliriousrn @corpsebridenightamare @seaseasalts

[snaccpopstudios]

New Initiative: Guest artist of the month!

Over here at SnaccPop Studios, we've always been very forward about how much we appreciate all of you. From the people who follow our social media, play our games and those who make content that is mesmerizing to see, what's the best way to recognize this work?

By giving a spotlight to some of our favorite artists in the community!

We are going to be collaborating with @cheesy_cryptid, an artist whose work is nothing short of absolutely extraordinary! They will be making 2 EXCLUSIVE wallpapers for us, which will be available on our Patreon! Read the full post for FREE now! https://www.patreon.com/posts/new-initiative-96751294

[srjlvr]

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍

⸝⸝ Your relationship with Enhypen members as a famous K-drama couple !! ⸝⸝ ✿

. . ҂ Genre: fluff !! OT7!Enhypen X gn!Reader . . ҂

✎ ᝰ . notes: hello beautiful souls! it’s been a while! i’ve had some spare time to write and i thought like, why not do this? the relationships are going to be all boy x girl couples but it’s important for me to say that the reference is to whoever is reading it. therefore its a gn!Reader. pls be nice!!

© srjlvr , pls don’t copy/translate any of my works without permission ! | reblogs and comments are very appreciated !

— HEESEUNG ;

Moon Kang-Tae & Ko Moon-Young — It’s Okay To Not Be Okay.

Everyone loves this couple!! Heeseung is the more calm and reserved one. He’s responsible and always makes sure you’re doing well.

Although being introvert, Heeseung makes sure he always stays with you, even if his social battery has ended. He loves staying around you no matter where and when.

Shows you his love to you in many different ways, but mostly it’ll be with lots and lots of kisses and cuddles that will make you two comfortable. He’ll also make sure you know how much he loves you.

“I love you” He said. You decided to tease him a bit today and just started walking with your back facing him while smiling. “I said I love you!” He raised his tone a bit, waiting for your response. At this point you started giggling quietly and waited for his next move. He didn’t care about the people around anymore and started walking towards you. “Won’t you say you love me back?” He pout. “I really veryyy veryyyy much love you!” He just kept walking after you until you gave up.

— JAY ;

Vincenzo & Cha-Young — Vincenzo.

Your relationship is *chefs kiss*. Jay is that kind of extrovert-hyper boyfriend who will not be ashamed of showing off by saying that you’re his.

Cares about you a little too much. Cooks you food whenever you want and makes sure you have everything you want. He’ll basically spoil you.

PDA is a MUST!! Although you do get shy sometimes, you’re just moving on and joking around. You’re basically just best friends who are being in a relationship, and you couldn’t be more thankful.

“It’s cold, give me a kiss” He begged. “My baby wants a kiss?” You were babying him and joking around. You cupped his cheeks and kissed him. After the kiss you were about to continue walking but he stopped you and kissed you again and again. You kicked him and giggled, “People are watching” You said. “They can keep watching I don’t care” He laughed and held your hand.

— JAKE ;

An Min-Hyuk & Do Bong-Soon — Strong Woman Do Bong Soon.

This boy is WHIPPED for you. Everything just has to be about you, thinks about you 24/7 and texts you 24/7. He loves you so much and never stops talking about you.

He likes to make you laugh and will probably make some jokes only to see you smile. He’ll also probably put you as his wallpaper and will surely fan-boy over every single thing you do, simply because he’s just so in love with you.

Will give you kisses, A LOT of kisses actually. He wouldn’t get shy since he’s with you so he doesn’t care about the others. He loves to hug you a lot as well and he’s basically just really deep in love.

“Hey! I love you” He yelled. You giggled and pecked his cheeks. Jake happily jumped and smiled, “That was just adorable, how did i get so lucky?” He cupped your cheeks and pecked your lips. “I love you” He pecked your lips again, “I love you” And again, “I love you” And again, without caring about the jealous people around.

— SUNGHOON ;

Ha-Ru & Eun Dan-Oh — Extraordinary You.

Sunghoon is probably that kind of boyfriend who observes you from afar. Although he doesn’t show it much, he adores everything you do. Looking at you smiling makes him smile as well, watching you from afar is definitely one of his favorite things.

He’s really quiet and introvert whenever you both are outside, and he’ll probably get shy whenever you do something clingy in public. But whenever you two are alone he’ll definitely wash you with kisses and hugs.

He’ll take care of you well, watch every step you do and will probably remember all the kind of things you like just to buy them for you later. He’ll think about every step in your relationship carefully and will basically just always be there for you.

“Sunghoon! Look at these beautiful flowers!!” You pointed at a path with loads and loads of beautiful flowers. “Those are my favorites kind of flowers” You smiled. Sunghoon, who was standing besides you, smiled happily while looking at you observing the view. The next day you got a deliver of those same kind of flowers to your house, with a letter ‘Whenever you look at them, think of me — Sunghoon <3’

— SUNOO ;

Jung Joon-Hyung & Kim Bok-Joo — Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-Joo.

Loves you a little too much, and honestly? Won’t even care if he’s showing off to everyone that you’re his partner. He’s super hyper which makes you smile whenever you’re around him.

Talks about you with literally anyone 24/7, won’t be scared to show affection in public as he’s being too proud to be with you. He’ll also probably always hold your hands whenever you’re walking outside.

Makes a lot of jokes and he’s a true sucker for your smile and happiness. Makes a list of things he’d want to do with you and will definitely do them whenever he has the opportunity.

“I have some bowling planned for today and right after that we’re going to watch a movie!” He held your hand and used it as a swing, going up and down together in a sync. You hummed in response, trying to hide your overly excitement. He then stared at you and quickly gave you a peck on your cheek. You immediately looked at him and smiled, giving him a peck on his cheeks too. He looked at you back and you started giggling together. “I love you” He gave you a quick peck on your lips this time, and kept walking while holding your hand.

— JUNGWON ;

Kang Tae-Moo & Shin Ha-Ri — Business Proposal.

Jungwon is that responsible partner. Whenever you’re being too hyper he’ll just smile it off and try to calm you down. But let’s admit that we all know he’s probably gonna join your hyper hours time.

It’s those little things about him that always makes your heart warm up, he remembers every little detail about you and knows a little too much about you. He always wants to show you new sides of him so it’ll be weird for you that he can be so calm but one minute later he’s dancing with you.

You’re mostly the one who gives the kisses first, but don’t get me wrong, he loves your kisses more than anything else. He’s not the type to share what he wants with other people, but he’s a completely different person around you, and he loves it.

You were going off to your work while he was sitting on the sofa, doing your usual routine, you went to him and cupped his cheeks and kissed him as a goodbye kiss. “I’ll see you later” You smiled, he smiled at you back warmly and as you were about to free him from your cupping hands, he quickly pecked your lips. “I love you, don’t forget to eat your meals in time” He smiled widely this time.

— NIKI ;

Choi Ung & Kook Yeon-Soo — Our Beloved Summer.

He’ll probably be very shy to show his love to you at first, but quickly enough will snuggle into you like 24/7. Loves you a lot and won’t be scared to show it off.

Will get jealous very easily. If he ever finds someone flirting with you he’ll quickly take you somewhere else away from that person and then will act like a baby since he’s that jealous.

Will take a lot of pictures of you just for him to look at them a few days after. Will also text you whenever he’s missing you and whenever he’s at your place or you’re at his, you’ll be sure to play some playstation and order some chicken.

“Oh come on! Let’s do another round!!” Niki was sulking, he obviously lost the game when you were his rival. You’re always winning him but he still has that hope that one day he’ll manage to bring you down. “No way! I’m always winning, it became boring!” You sulked. “Please baby!” He begged and you shook your head as a no. “I’ll order some chicken” He smirked. “You’re paying!” You smiled and pecked his cheek. “Oh come on” He pouted and looked at you. You rolled your eyes playfully and pecked his lips. “I love you” “I love you too Riki”

[biggukuma]

A fanfiction or a series (my god, a series about this) in which Eli explains (in the voiceover for the series?) just how weird his family is.

Starting with Eli's many aunts and uncles, 3/4 of whom share no blood ties with him. ( Yes, the puppy pack is part of the Hale pack. Yes, Alec was Eli's babysitter. )

( Erica and Boyd would have twins about the same age as Eli. Why would that be? I have no idea. )

( For those who love Scott/Isaac/Allison, they would have 4 children. Yes, exactly, so that 3 of them would come from duos and the last one would come into the world thanks to the magic and presence of 3 DNAs. )

(The whole pack would not live in the huge mansion that is the Stilinski-Hale mansion. Thiam and Morey would have their own place. Sheriff would have refused to move in. )

Then his cousins, of all ages, each more unusual and annoying than the last. With whom he shares the same grimaces when they learn that most of their parents have gone out with each other.

( - Sweet Home Alabama-

- Shut up! )

His dziadzia, who had never been angry with him for ruining his wallpaper (he had every reason to be. They were horrible drawings-) and who had taught him to lie to his tata while making him promise never to lie, understood, you little rascal, when they went to get the greasiest order in the whole fast-food restaurant. And his babcia and his abuela and his abuelo and his tias and his tios and his primos and his primas he knew only in grave form.

Finally, his dads, who look like they hate each other half the time or would kill someone if it made the other half smile. His two dads who have criminal records but brunch with the station cops once a month. His two dads who are both biologically men and who have biologically managed to have a child together.

(Eli politely asks anyone who jokes about him being his parents' little shit to fuck off. His dads told him his tata had a C-section, okay ?!)

A fanfic or series in which we discover the famous Hale Pack that has risen from the ashes and is so feared and respected. Where we discover how Eli feels so alienated from the pack he loves and cherishes, so alienated from his family. How Eli feels he's not cut out to be the next Alpha of the pack. How certain Eli is that he'll never be anything like his incredible, powerful, famous dads, no matter how many times he's told he's the spitting image of Stiles or has Derek's eyes and sourwolf face.

Eli sees himself as the boring kid in this extraordinary family, the boring offspring of a rich heir to a famous werewolf pack, a bad boy with a tragic past in his youth, a DILF today with his dad's super skills, a fair and fierce true Alpha (alive and not DEAD) and an FBI agent as sarcastic as he is intelligent, a supernatural detective in his spare time, a fearsome spark, emissary and Alpha mate. Like the good old cliché of the character with no friends but his cousins and an overpowering entourage, so beloved and popular and so much more remarkable and interesting script-wise than he is.

(Perhaps Eli never could and never will be able to shift? Perhaps being human is in part the source of his fear.)

And being the good old cliché that he is, he apparently becomes interesting when he gets superpowers. (Stiles is not at all happy that the Nemeton has chosen him to be its guardian. In fact, no one in his family seems happy. Great.)

[wynndigogh]

Bring me a dream...

You stand brushing your teeth in an outdated bathroom. 

The light over the vanity appears to be from the sixties and considering the way the bulb flashes and surges every few seconds with a zz-ut-zhut sound, it may be that old as well.

The light it gives off is yellow and dull; however, you aren’t very sure you’d like a bright view of that bathroom anyway.  The tub, sink, and toilet have more rings than the Olympics logo and the faucets are pockmarked with rust.

The tiny mosaic flooring tiles are missing in random spots and the bold floral designed wallpaper, which you are sure at one time contained bright yellows, oranges and greens, is now a faded façade that is barely clinging to the walls.

You roll your eyes and spit the last of the toothpaste foam from your mouth, “Not exactly the Hilton, but a bed is a bed.”

With a sigh you exit the small washroom, opting to leave on the flickering yellow light and close the door just enough to for it to act as a nightlight.  You are single, traveling alone, and unfamiliar dark rooms are intimidating. The sliver of light from the bathroom brings you some small amount of comfort, no matter the poor quality.

You walk stiffly through the small motel room.  After two straight days of driving, with little rest, your body feels like stone.  In your overly caffeinated, yet insanely exhausted, state you are trying to remember exactly why you thought driving from Georgia to your job interview in Oregon would be a good idea.

Ah, yes, Skinwalker Ranch. 

You started watching the spooky series on the History channel months ago and have become obsessed with the thought of other-worldly portals that connect our world to places unknown.  In a misguided a-ha moment you decided to drive, instead of fly, so that you could pass through Gusher, Utah just to be close to the supposed interdimensional portals. 

You know getting on the actual ranch will be a no-go, but you want to be in the town, as close as possible to the actual ranch, just to see if anyone has tales of their own to share of extraordinary happenings in the area.

So, that is how you ended up in this rundown motel pretty much in the middle of nowhere. 

With a sigh, you pull back the old comforter on the bed, noting the dingy sheets with a shutter.  You hesitate for just a moment, contemplating if you should put leggings under your oversized tee shirt, but your tired body encourages you to tough it out.  Reluctantly, you crawl into the bed. 

Since your last coffee was only an hour ago, a desperate attempt to make it to Gusher before your heavy eyelids forced you to stop, you are a little too wired to just drift off to sleep.  So, you pull out the latest creature-feature romance novel that you’ve been reading and turn to your ear-marked page.  You will read until the caffeine-kick wears off.

The small room is quiet except for the faint zz-ut-zhut from the blinking bathroom light. 

In fact, the whole motel is as quiet as a graveyard.  You doubt any of the other rooms have occupants in them.  The parking lot was empty, and the front desk clerk seemed genuinely surprised to be checking someone into the establishment.

You twist to your left side, trying to get the aged lamp beside your bed to illuminate your book’s page.  You need to see the details clearly; the story is just getting spicy. 

The story’s heroine has been fighting a growing attraction to her Centaur field-guide, whom she hired to lead her through a dangerous forest.  A recent Trogg attack has the suppressed protagonist clinging to the Centaur’s broad equine back as he races her to safety.  The author is detailing the baritone sound of his huffs of exertion, the heated moisture coating his muscles, and how the heroine is enjoying the bouncing rhythmic friction of the chaotic ride just a little too much.

You subconsciously swallow and rub your stacked legs together out of need.  You feel a slight ache in your nether region followed by the tell-tale sign of slick starting to gather at your entrance.  You shift your position, and the bedsprings protest with a squeak and a hiss.

You flip the page in your book, and you are halfway through the first sentence at the top of the page when the thought finally registers in your tired mind, did the bed just hiss?

You lower your paperback book to scan the bed and the dimly lit room.  The fossil-age lamp beside your bed and the sliver of yellow bathroom light illuminates the area around the bed decently enough but they do little to chase away the deep shadows in the far corners of the room. 

Oh, how you hate the dark.  Ever since you were a child, you always felt like the darkness itself was watching.  Watching and waiting. 

The longer you look at the shadows of the room, the more your skin wants to crawl with goosebumps.  You know it’s silly and that it is probably just your anxiety of being alone in an unknown space, but that same feeling of being watched surfaces in the back of your mind.

However, after a moment of observation, nothing seems amiss.  With a shiver and a shake, you turn your attention back to your book.

By the middle of the page, the heroine is reaching her peak bouncing up and down on the Centaur’s back.  You are fully invested in her ride, fantasizing about riding astride the strong creature yourself.  As your mind wanders, your body reacts to the imagery.  Your nipples harden under your nightshirt and your internal temperature peaks causing you to sweat.  You throw off your covers and start to fan yourself with your book, when you hear a muted in-take of breath, like a soft gasp.

In shock and fear, you bolt into a sitting position, “Who’s there?”, you call out in panic.

Your eyes and ears strain for clues.  The only movement and sound coming from the flickering bathroom light. 

Seconds tick by, counted off by the zz-ut-zhut of the old light bulb. 

The stillness growing into an uneasy stalemate.

You shift nervously on the bed.  Preparing, waiting.  Yet, nothing happens. 

Slowly, your racing heart begins to ease.  The muscles around your eyes begin to relax as your body adjusts to burning through the last of your caffeine-high just now. 

As your eyelids grow a bit heavy, a yawn surfaces.  Your face contorts in the yawn, your eyelids shielding most of your vision.  That’s when you see it, a flash of light deep in one of the room’s shadows. 

No, that isn’t right.  It wasn’t a light, there were two.  You saw two flashes of light, almost like the blink of dual fireflies, in the corner across from you.

You quickly stifle the yawn, blinking back the reflexive tears from your eyes, and stare hard at the space.  Only, the lights don’t reappear. 

Was it your imagination?  Is your fatigued brain experiencing hallucinations? 

You focus hard on the corner, and you see something…at least, you think you do.

Is that…a shadow? 

For a moment it’s there and then, with the next blink of your eyes, it’s gone again.  Was something there?

You strain to see.  Your eyes sting with dryness and feel gritty, even as tears from your yawn leak from the corners.  You squeeze your eyes shut repeatedly, trying to lubricate them.  Surely, you’ll be able to blink away the fog that seems to be forming on your pupils, obscuring your vision.  However, no matter how many times you try, your eyes refuse to focus.  You use the heel of your free hand to rub one orbital, in a pitiful attempt to literally wipe away the opaque quality of your vision.

Deep in the corner, the shadow flickers into existence and two glowing orbs reappear.  The orbs aren’t the luminous bottoms of bugs, they are two glowing eyes staring straight at you.

For just a moment, shorter than a gasp, your heart stops.  Pausing in stillness, preparing for the surge. 

Then, with the quickness of a lightning strike, the adrenaline jolts through your system.  Your heartrate spiking, sending blood to your muscles, preparing you for fight and flight.

You instinctually shriek and fling the book in your hand at the tall form in the darkness while simultaneously rolling off the far side of the bed with a resounding thud.

“Tsk, tsk, is that any way to treat a coveted possession?”

The voice that you hear from your hiding spot beside the bed is masculine.  It has an elegant cadence with an accent you can’t place.  It sounds otherworldly, almost ethereal, and yet hollow, like it’s muffled.  The sound of a male voice inside the room with you triggers the third fear response, freeze. 

You are utterly frozen in place on the grimy carpet, your mind racing.  Who is it?  How did he get in?  What does he want?  The sound of soft footsteps interrupts the chaos storming through your mind.  The footfalls are coming closer. 

Over the lip of the mattress, you see a dark hooded figure leisurely making his way around the bed.  You just stare with wide eyes as he comes to a stop at the foot of the bed, stares down at you, and tilts his head to the side inquisitively. 

Is it panic or shock that has your back glued to the floor, your body unable to move, or is it awe?  

The man, no – that isn’t right, it can’t be right. 

The being standing over you has swirling, glowing eyes.  You watch as the color of those luminous orbs shift and twirl in tones of blue, white, violet, and gold.  They are oddly mesmerizing and unnerving at the same time.  Just as your mind starts to get those in their depths, he breaks eye contact, and you watch those shimmering rings of light trace a line down your body, lingering with interest on the peaks of your nightshirt and the exposed swatch of your lacy underwear.

After a long pause at your lacy covered apex, those shining eyes blaze white and lift to make eye contact with you, “My lady, I do believe you are in need of my assistance”.  His eloquent, ethereal voice placing emphasis on the word ‘need’. 

The bedside lamp casts enough light to reveal his face beneath the hood. His eyes aren’t just floating orbs, they are pupils set in a pair of elongated eyes, framed high and tight by steep cheek bones.  His skin, a deep velvety blue with sparkling specks that catch and reflect the light, resembling a starry night sky.  You can only see a small portion of skin around his eyes, and you understand why his voice sounds muffled, he’s wearing a mask over the lower half of his face.

You hear screaming.  It takes you a moment to realize the sound is coming from yourself.  Your voice sounds so far away, like you are having an out-of-body type of experience.

The creature…being…man, whatever he is, raises his finger to his masked mouth and issues a command, “Shhhhhhhh”.  

A glimmering tendril of some type of floating substance, ribbons out from his hand, wafting over you, and stealing your panic.  Like a drug, your body starts to feel heavy and your voice stalls in your throat.

“Allow me to help you”, his foreign accent drawls out from behind his mask.  The shapes of his swirling eyes pinching thin, in what could be a cheeky grin, as he reaches down and takes your delicate hand in his indigo colored one, pulling you to your feet, your body just obeying.

Standing toe to toe it is apparent that this being is tall, at least 6’4” because your petite frame is only reaching the top of his chest. 

You are staring up into those hypnotic eyes when you feel him grip your chin.  His fingers are tipped with dark claws, and he is careful not to stab them into the tender flesh of your face.

“Are you hurt?”, he questions behind his barrier, “Maybe I should check, eh?”

His long eyes turning cheshire-shaped from another impish grin.  You are feeling too dazed to protest when his free hand glides over your shoulders, down one of your sides, and pauses on your hip, gripping into the amp flesh.

“Who-what are you”, your words come out slow and groggy.

“Hmmmm, I am called many things by your kind, faerie, demon, Sonnaya Tuchka, Ole Lukøje, Pesochnyy chelovek, we call ourselves Zeez; however, my favorite is your tongue, what you called me when you were youngling.”

The creature pauses staring at you; your transfixed dreamy stare telling him that you were not processing his words as quickly as he is speaking.  He watches patiently as the information clicks into place in your mind, your eyes widening ever so slightly with the realization that you two have met before.

“You, my desert flower, called me The Sandman.  But, if you wish, you may call me by given name Der.”

Der’s face loses its brash flirtatiousness and takes on a more somber look, his eyes phasing more blue, as he releases your chin to run his outside of forefinger down the side of your cheek.  The action doesn’t feel intrusive or offensive, it feels more familiar…sad.

Your gaze swipes lazily across his face as your mind tries to fight through the haze clouding it.  You take in the colors and reflecting light of his skin, those enthralling eyes, and then your sight slides down to his covering.

“Why do you wear a mask?”

You watch the tall being’s shoulders shake with a huffing laugh, “Always the curious one.  You asked me the same thing when you were much smaller.” 

He lifted a claw tapping the hard mask, the sound telling you it is made of some type of hardened leather or shell of some kind, “This is the burden of my kind, if we wish to remain culturally acceptable and welcomed in our world.”

Your forehead draws together in confusion. 

Der’s eyes twinkle with mischief as he continues, “My kind’s verbalizations can be very persuasive without a filter to cushion its affects.  The other species of my world grew tired of losing partners to my kind’s talented tongues.”, he finishes with a wink.

Ah, his words are as beguiling and seductive as his eyes and the mask acts as his muzzle.  Interesting.

Maybe it’s the fact that you were nose deep in a creature-feature smut book just prior to his arrival, or the fact that you haven’t been laid in longer than you’d like to admit, but your mind betrays you.  An intrusive thought pops up out of nowhere, and your inner voice wonders just how tantalizing a sexual experience with this Zeez would be.

You feel Der’s glowing eyes on your face and, almost as if he reads your mind, the swirling vortexes of his pupils surge from a golden hue to bright white.  You watch the glowing whirlpools circle into ever deeper depths, pulling you under with their currents.

One moment you are standing in a dingey motel room with this otherworldly creature, the next you are sinking in a sea of sand.  The particles rush up your body as you sink further into the abyss.  Your nightshirt is lifted from your body and pulled away by the grit’s undertow. 

Down you slide through the bottleneck of the sandy spiral, landing carefully on a bed of dark mist.  The hooded Zeez astride above you, smiling like a cat who ate the canary, behind his thick face mask, at the sight of your topless form on display for him.

“I have waited a long time for you to ask this of me”, Der purrs in his ethereal accent.  His indigo hand reaches up and detaches the muzzle from his lower face, revealing the remainder of his deep velvet skin and a wide fanged smile framed by a delectable set of dark blue lips.

Feeling self-conscience and exposed under his blazing glare, and his smile that is barely hiding some vicious looking teeth, your arms crisscross over your breasts in a protective manner.

“I-I thought you couldn’t remove the muzzle.”

Der opens his mouth, and a tongue of sand licks the tip of one fang, "Ah, but we are not in my world, my little desert flower, we are in your inner world.  Welcome to your dreamland.”

Without his face mask filtering his essence, the full force of the Zeez’s influence slides over you making you feel heady and drunk with euphoria.  The effect steals the air right out of your lungs, causing beads of sweat to pebble across your skin, your muscles to twitch for release, and your back to arch from the cool dark mist.  With just two short sentences, his words alone have you teetering on the precipice of an orgasm. 

An unguarded moan slips past your lips causing him to chuckle.  The sound of his chuckle, much like that of sand flowing through a wooden cylinder ‘rain-stick’, is its own form of a soothing aphrodisiac.

He leans close and whispers into your ear, as your eyes flutter in ecstasy, “Hold on, my flower, I’ve waited too long for this opportunity to pluck you.”

The inner walls of your pussy twitch in rhythm to his vocal cadence.  To keep from crying out you bite hard into your bottom lip, breaking and bruising the delicate skin.

“Tsk, tsk, is that any way to treat a coveted possession?”, he growls at you in his thick accent. 

You squirm as the slick between your legs becomes so abundant that it is pushing forward, up around your clit, “You-you, sa-said that about my-my book”, you stutter as your mind’s focus splits between talking and the throbbing of the delicate nub in your apex.

Der literally purrs.  His body vibrating above yours, tickling your exposed skin, he’s so close to your ear you can feel his lips brushing the shell with each word, “I was never talking about the book, Love.”

His purring, his lips caressing your ear, along with his declaration pushes you over the edge.  Your inner walls clinch in release.  Your hands forget their mission to guard your modesty and reach out fisting his hood cowl as your body shivers in release.

Der sighs in slight disappointment.  “Next time I will need to keep the mask on until we are further along, you are delightfully sensitive.”, he chides with a salacious grin.

Your release subsides and he slides your hands from his cowl.  As you lay cool in the swirl black mist of your own dreamland, the Zeez releases the clips of his hood cloak, shedding the heavy covering and exposing a torso that you were not expecting. 

Instead of a swath of blue, speckled skin, you are shocked to see short sleek indigo fur coating his neck, the backs of his muscled arms, across his stout shoulders, and down his strong back.  The inner portions of his torso, his chiseled chest, and washboard stomach, sport that starry skin that matches his face.  A face that, now you can see, has a pair of long pointed ears on each side of its head.

Farther behind him a new astonishment swishes through the air, catching you off guard and causing you to jerk in surprise.  A long thin tail with a furry tuft at the end whips back and forth in anticipation.

You are in a state of shock and awe, staring mesmerized at the unique being above you.

“What are you?”, is what slips out of your mouth without going through your internal filter.

That same raspy chuckle of his, slides over your skin like a caress, “I am a Zeez.”

Seeing the lack of recognition, or satisfaction, on your face from his answer, he pauses a moment to rethink his approach.

“I guess your kind would most closely associate my species with your mythical Sphinxes or Manicores. We are timeless creatures with no natural end.  We originate from a cold dark desert in my world”, you watch his eyes dim a deeper hue of blue than you have noticed previously, “but that area is no longer ours.  We now live among tribes and clans of many.”

His long tail gives a sharp whip, creating a snapping sound and breaking his reverie.  Der’s eyes shift back into their golden, white tones as he stares down at you.  His fanged grin grows wide, and his purr returns tenfold.

Suddenly, you feel like a cornered mouse.  Plump and ripe for the devouring.

“You smell delicious”, he rasps out above his vibrations.

TO BE CONTINUED if you want(because it is time for me to catch some Zeez 😘)….

@thelaundrybitch @leoandraphssoulmate @kokosworld95

Author Note: There are three points to know about this story.

1. You may be surprised to learn that Der (and his species) are a MINOR character in my main book series that I'm trying to finish. I wanted a way to expand and explain more about Zeez and this story was born.

2. The book that Der's human is reading in this story will be a vehicle that I will use to introduce other MINOR characters/species from my books as well. So, yes, you will get the read the Centaur's story too, which will feature many of my own creature creations.

3. There is SOOOO much more to Der and his human's story. I am happy to tell it if anyone is interested. The amount of detail and I have created for all the characters still amazing me. (I have no life LOL).

Eh, let's throw a 4th point in here. Der's species was born from an a scene in an actual dream I had. It may not come across as well here in this story, but in further expansions of the story, it explains that humans can only see Zeez when they are tired or sleepy.

Hence the phrase...."catching Z's".

[prplocks]

♡☆♡ extraordinary attorney woo wallpaper

reblog if you save ▪︎

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[lemoncrushh]

The Entertainer II - Track 10 - Light Up Inside

Summary: What if it wasn’t the end? What if Sky did actually see Harry at the Forum in the early 80s, and he saw her too? What if fate took hold of them both, and they realized their journey was not over? Set in 1981, Harry and Sky’s story continues with more music, more romance, and a few more twists and turns.

STORY PAGE

Track 10 Word Count: 3.8k+

Read The Entertainer

I wasn’t prepared for the sight before me. Up until then, the nicest hotel I’d ever stayed in was the one in Santa Barbara. But that one didn’t even compare to this room.

The bed, while still a King size, looked enormous to me. The entire wall behind it was covered in flocked burgundy wallpaper, the rose-colored comforter making it look like a massive flower in the center of the room. On top of the bed were two white, plush robes and matching slippers sat at the foot of the bed. And just ahead of me, to the right of the bed, stood an iced bucket with a bottle of champagne.

As I stepped inside, I watched Harry walk to the far wall where he opened the coordinating gold flocked curtains to reveal the most extraordinary view of Los Angeles. Then he removed his suit jacket and laid it on a nearby chair. It was then that I noticed the glorious Christmas tree in the corner, all decorated in colors that coordinated with the room.

“Wow,” I breathed as I walked forward and dropped my clutch on the chair.

“You like it?” he grinned. “Oh, wait! Look here!”

He opened the door to the bathroom and waved for me. I gasped when I saw it.

“A jacuzzi?”

“Yeah. I reckon that’s a bit sexier than the bathtub,” Harry smirked.

I covered my mouth, astonished at the entire gesture. Harry took my waist and pulled me to him, his hands sensually crawling up my back. My entire body suddenly felt both hot and cold at the same time. Fever chills erupted down my arms, and I felt light-headed.

“I had fun tonight,” Harry murmured, his face so close, his breath touched my lips. “But I’m so glad to finally have you to myself.”

His mouth covered mine in a passionate kiss. It was the kind that dropped the floor from underneath my feet and sent my heart soaring. If any kiss ever revealed what he was feeling, it was that one. 

“How about some champagne?” he grinned.

I nodded.

I watched Harry walk around the bed and grab the bottle. Tearing off the foil, he somehow managed to pop the cork with such precision, I knew he had to have done it many times before. Then he took two glasses and filled them, holding one out to me.

“What are we toasting this time?” I asked, taking the glass from him.

Harry shrugged. “Tonight? Christmas? Us.”

“All of that sounds good.”

I lifted my glass and brought it to my lips, the bubbly drink filling my senses. Harry’s gaze was locked on me, and I suddenly felt hot again. Turning away, I walked to the window.

“It’s really beautiful from up here, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Sky…” I heard him say behind me.

“Hmm?”

His arms enfolded me before I even knew he’d walked up behind me. I shut my eyes as I felt his chin on my shoulder.

“Baby…” he murmured in my ear.

“Yes?” I whispered.

“Why do you keep doing this?”

“What am I doing?”

“It’s like…every time I try to take a step forward, you retreat. I don’t understand.”

“I do?”

I heard him sigh before he took the glass of champagne from me, setting in on the nightstand.

“What is this?” he asked. “You walk away from a toast to look out the window? At the party, you just walked off the dance floor after the song I requested. What’s going on?”

I stared at him, unable to speak.

“Look, I know I fucked up. I made a promise to you, and I broke it. And I’m so fucking sorry, Sky. But I was still here. I showed up. I requested that song for us to dance to, but you thought I was ‘making up for something’ like I was buttering you up so you wouldn’t be mad at me. But that’s not what that was at all, and honestly, it hurt me that you thought so.”

I felt like I’d just been punched in the gut.

“Harry…”

“And it’s not just tonight,” he continued, running a hand through his hair. “It’s like…every time I try to be open with you, to let you know how I feel, you back away or change the subject. Or you treat it like it’s a joke.”

“Harry, I had no idea!”

“Didn’t you? What was that ‘Mr. Romantic’ comment for?”

“I didn’t mean that as an insult,” I argued. “I thought it was sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Yes. You were being sweet and romantic. It wasn’t a joke to me.”

Harry threw up his hands and sat on the bed.

“I just…don’t know how else to show you how I feel about you. But…it’s like I keep hitting a wall.”

Slowly, I walked towards him and stood before him.

“How…how do you feel about me?”

“Jesus, Sky, I thought by now you knew.”

I knelt before him and took his hands, rubbing the backs with my thumbs.

“Tell me,” I demanded.

“Tell you?” Harry scoffed. “I have told you loads of times.”

“No you haven’t.”

Harry chuckled in disbelief. “Singing ‘Endless Love’ to you while we danced wasn’t a giveaway? This room doesn’t convey any message? Jesus, I wrote a fucking song about you, Sky!”

“You did?”

Running a hand down his face, Harry let out an exasperated groan.

“Who the fuck else do you think ‘Drunk on Her’ is about?”

“It’s…about me?” I asked, remembering my conversation with Halo.

“I get lost in her misty blue eyes Just one more way to make me realize She’s all I want, I can’t get enough I’m drunk on her.”

As Harry sang the lyrics to me, I suddenly felt foolish. He had been telling me how he felt all along.

“I can feel myself starting to fall No way I could stop it at all Not sure I’d want to anyway.”

Though it was a fast-tempo rock song, Harry sang the bridge to me like a ballad as he rose from the bed and pulled me up with him.

He held me so close, our lips almost touched while he ran his fingers across my jaw. I licked my lips and bit my bottom one, wanting him so badly to kiss me I could taste it.

“Sky…” he said, tracing my top lip with his thumb. Then he nudged my bottom lip, popping it out from between my teeth.

“Baby…” he murmured as his thumb grazed my bottom lip. “I love you.”

The rush of excitement and relief flooded through my bones, and I nearly cried. A small sound escaped my throat as I looked him in the eyes.

“I love you, too.”

His mouth covered mine instantly, the hunger imminent on his tongue. I kissed him back with fervor as my fingers tangled in his hair.

“I’m so sorry,” he moaned against my lips.

“Don’t apologize,” I breathed.

“It’s just…,” he muttered. “I’m not…very good at saying it. Even though I wanted to say it so many times. I thought I was doing better at showing it.”

I looked at him, his pouty lips wet from my kiss, his eyes telling me how he felt.

“You did show it,” I admitted. “But sometimes…it helps to hear it.”

“Yeah…” he nodded. “Yeah, it does.”

“I love you, Harry.”

The dimples dipping in his cheeks, he beamed at me before kissing me again.

“I love you so much,” he declared in his sexy, breathy voice as he leaned his forehead against mine.

I desperately fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, eager to remove him of all clothing. Assisting me, he unfastened his cuffs and shrugged out of the shirt, tossing it on the floor. As he kicked off his shoes, I stepped out of mine, one stubborn buckle wanting to give me trouble. When Harry’s hands found my waist again, he quickly slid them down my hips and lifted my dress. Then grabbing my thighs, he hoisted me up, my legs swiftly wrapping around him. We laughed when he lost his balance and fell backwards onto the bed.

“Was trying to be sexy,” he smirked. “Reckon I’m outta shape.”

“No you’re not,” I said. “You’re perfect.”

Harry let out a sigh as I kissed his neck. His hands still on my thighs, he slid them up and down my bare skin, his fingers teasing my panty line.

“Fuck, you really do drive me crazy, babe.”

“What do you think you’re doing to me?” I asked.

A low growl rose from his chest as I pressed myself against him. Then he sat up, his eyes heavy with lust, and lifted up my dress. I raised my arms so he could pull it over my head, then he dropped the slinky fabric onto the floor as his eyes caressed my body.

“You’re the one who’s perfect,” he breathed.

His hands slid up my hips to my chest. I closed my eyes as he touched me, his thumbs delicately grazing my nipples. When I felt his mouth on me, I moaned, threading my fingers through his curls.

I threw my head back as he continued to devour my breasts, my insides quivering with desire. Suddenly, Harry surprised me by shifting on the bed.

“I wanna taste you,” he growled, laying me down on the pillow.

I watched in awe as he pushed the robes off the bed and settled himself between my legs. Then he looped his fingers through the sides of my panties and pulled them down, just enough to reveal what he wanted.

His warm breath on me was the first thing to ignite the fire, but when he swiped his tongue, I nearly lost it. My toes curled, and I wasn’t sure how long he planned to tease me like this, but he seemed to be enjoying it.

“Mmm,” I finally heard from him after a few more laps of his tongue.

Panting, I watched him remove my underwear the rest of the way. When he seemed satisfied, he grinned up at me before resuming his tongue exploration.

This time I lifted my legs, happy to be rid of my panties. I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensation. Before I knew it, my legs were trembling and I felt a tightness in my core.

“Oh my God!” I cried out. “Harry!”

I felt him hum against me, triggering the sensation to its peak. I called out his name again as he continued to pleasure me through the orgasm until I finally went still.

Breathing hard, I pushed the hair back from my face. Harry crawled up my body with a cheeky grin.

“Was that nice, my love?” he asked, wiping his chin.

“Nice…doesn’t describe it,” I exhaled. Then I slapped my arm over my eyes. “Holy shit.”

Harry chuckled that sexy low way that always turned me on. Then I felt him kiss my shoulder. I shivered at the contact, my body erupting in goosebumps.

“Fancy a dip in the jacuzzi?” Harry asked.

“Now?” I lowered my arm and looked at him.

“Why not?” he smirked. When I continued to stare at him, he rose from the bed, grabbing our champagne glasses. “We can take these with us, since we haven’t enjoyed them yet.”

I couldn’t resist. Everything he did was endearing. With a smile, I followed him into the bathroom. Just one press of a button brought the jacuzzi to life. Harry removed his pants while I cautiously stepped into the hot water, the sensation reviving the goosebumps on my skin.

“It’s warmer than my pool, I take it,” Harry quipped when I lowered my body into the water, letting it reach my neck.

“Tease me all you want,” I scoffed, my eyes shut. “This is heaven.”

“Hmm, we’ll see about that,” I heard him say before he stepped in beside me. But I grinned when I heard him sigh.

“Told you,” I said, opening my eyes.

“You were right,” he nodded. “Except it’s missing something.”

“What?”

He pulled me to him, his hands pushing the wet ends of my hair from my shoulders.

“This,” he said before kissing me softly.

“Mmm, agreed,” I smiled when our lips separated.

“How about a proper toast now?” asked Harry, reaching for our glasses. Handing me one, he looked me in the eyes. “To you and me. For finally saying what we feel.”

“I’ll drink to that,” I declared, raising my glass.

“I love you, Sky.”

“I love you, too, Harry,” I beamed.

He squeezed my free hand under the water while we took a long sip of our champagne. I was no expert, but I could tell it was the good stuff. The bubbles went to my head faster than the ones in the jacuzzi. Finding one of the jets, I turned and pressed my back against it, letting the pressure relieve some tension. Taking another sip of champagne, I shut my eyes again.

“Why’d you move away from me, babe?”

“It feels good on my back,” I grinned, my eyes still closed.

I heard the water slosh as Harry moved. I thought he was coming to sit beside me, but when I felt my legs move, I opened my eyes. He sat facing me, my legs crossed over his.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Now we both have one,” he replied, moving his torso. Then sitting back, he sighed. “Does feel good.”

“Told you,” I said again, raising my glass. “Heaven.”

“Look at you, enjoying the finer things,” Harry chuckled.

“Hey, I never said I didn’t like to be pampered,” I remarked. “I just wouldn’t let myself get used to it, you know?”

“I do know,” Harry nodded. “You’ve always been down to earth.”

“Thanks for noticing.”

“It’s one of the first things that appealed to me. Besides the music, of course.”

“Would you have still liked me if I wasn’t into music?” I inquired, intrigued.

“Hmm,” Harry tilted his head. “Interesting question. I reckon I would have. At least I would have thought you were cute and funny. And still down to earth.”

“Oh okay,” I acknowledge before taking the last gulp of my champagne.

“I can’t imagine I would have fallen in love with you, though,” Harry added.

“No?” Slowly lowering my glass, I looked at him.

“Probably not. I mean…there are certainly other things I like about you. But I’m not sure I would have even spent so much time around you if you weren’t a music fan. Hell, you probably wouldn’t have even come to see my band.”

“Good point,” I commented.

Harry shrugged. “And if you had, you would have just been a tag-along with Halo, and I would have thought of you as just another girl.”

“That’s kind of sad,” I pouted.

“Well, good thing that’s not what happened, then,” Harry jabbed with a smirk.

Setting his glass down on the bathroom floor, he began to run his hands up and down my legs.

“Your love for music has always been a turn-on for me,” he conveyed.

“It has?”

“Of course. Sometimes at those early shows I’d feel myself getting a boner just knowing you were in the audience.”

“Get out!” I squealed, splashing water on him.

Harry giggled. “I’m not exaggerating. I’m surprised you never noticed.”

“Well…” I stammered, feeling myself blushing, “if I had, I doubt I would have thought it was because of me.”

“You still don’t know the effect you had on me, do you?”

Harry continued to caress my legs as his green eyes stared at me. I quickly set my empty glass on the cold floor and cleared my throat.

“So…Harry…”

“Yeah, babe?”

“How were you able to request that song? At the party tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

I caught the way his lips threatened to grow into a smile, like revealing a devilish secret.

“It just magically started playing after you showed up and kissed me. You wouldn’t have had time to ask the deejay to play it.”

His mouth breaking into a grin, his dimples on full display, Harry looked down, then back at me.

“I had a hotel employee go ask him before I went in,” he confessed.

“You did?” I gasped.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “The timing wasn’t planned though. I had no idea when he’d play it. It just…worked out that way.”

Unable to come up with the right words to say, I just stared at him.

“I picked that song,” Harry continued as he traced circles on my knees, “because I wanted you to know it’s how I feel. I mean, yeah, I was trying to be romantic, but…ever since that first night you came over to my place…ah, what the fuck am I trying to say?”

I scooted closer to him then, my legs nearly wrapped around him. I reached out to him, running my hands from his shoulders and down his arms. Then I took his hands in mine.

“I knew I loved you then,” he confessed, his eyes sincere. “Like, I felt it. But I was afraid it was too soon. Then that night when I got on stage with Stargazer, and I saw you in the audience, sat at our little table…God, I wanted to tell you that night so bad.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I was afraid you’d think it was the adrenaline talking and not me. I was so turned on that night.”

“Yeah, you were,” I grinned.

“I can’t help it, babe,” he admitted, pulling me even closer. “When you’re around I light up inside.”

“That’s how I feel about you,” I said, playing with a curl on his shoulder that was still dry.

“Then last weekend…” Harry’s words trailed off before he laughed and slapped a hand over his forehead. “Oh shit, no wonder.”

“What?”

“I was trying to figure out why you didn’t say much about the new song. I reckoned you were just embarrassed or uncomfortable.”

“Harry, I swear! I didn’t know! I hadn’t been paying too much attention to the lyrics. I was more excited about watching you.”

Harry chuckled. “That explains it then. Kinda bruised my ego a bit, but it’s alright now.”

“I’m sorry. Wait…so…did you actually tell me…that night…after the song…”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I did. You hadn’t mentioned that either, so I sorta hoped maybe you hadn’t seen me.”

“I did. I just…” I traced a tattoo on his arm. “I thought it couldn’t have been just for me. Because you hadn’t told me yet, and I…oh, damn.”

“We’re a couple of idiots, huh?”

I laughed as I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Not anymore.”

I kissed him then, deeply. He moaned against my mouth as my tongue met his. I ran my fingers down his chest, feeling his core muscles tighten as I reached his stomach.

With a gasp, he released my mouth and ran his tongue down my neck. His fingers tangled in my hair and my nipples came to life when they grazed his chest. I felt his erection grow beneath me as I pressed against him, earning more moans.

“Baby…” he breathed, his eyelids heavy and his pouty lips open.

I kissed him softly then, unable to resist his wet lips.

“Let’s get out now, baby,” I whispered. “I’m feeling rather pruney.”

Harry’s mouth grew into a sexy grin just before his eyes opened.

“Are we continuing this on the bed?” he asked.

“I certainly hope so,” I quipped, rising from the hot water.

Harry slid his hand up my leg before pushing himself up. Then he stepped out of the tub and reached his hand out to me to help me out. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around me, then carried me to the bed like he had that night after our dip in his pool.

His lips covered mine with a kind of passion that spoke volumes. I felt his unspoken words down to my toes. When our lips separated, his eyes continued the conversation as he unwrapped me like a present. I opened my legs to him, inviting him with my own silent words. As his eyes burned like dark emeralds, I felt his warm, moist body press against mine.

“I love you,” he said, just before he entered me.

I couldn’t stop looking at him. He was the most beautiful, most wonderful man I’d ever known. And now he was all mine. He loved me, and I loved him.

We’d made love many times before. But this time, it was different. This time I didn’t have to wonder if he’d ever feel the way I did. This time I wasn’t hoping he would say those words. This time…I knew he wouldn’t leave.

As I laid in bliss afterwards, my head on Harry’s chest, I listened to his heart beating in time with mine. It made me smile, a perfect testimony of our love. I felt Harry’s touch on my back, his fingers gently caressing me up and down, easing their way to the curve of my hip.

“I love you so much, Harry,” I said aloud.

His hand stopped its caress while he lifted my chin to look at him. His eyes sparkled with the glow of the Christmas tree lights.

“I love you, too.”

“Thank you for everything tonight,” I told him. “You really are incredibly romantic and…I’m so lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one, Sky,” Harry protested. “To have found you again.”

“Harry…”

Turning onto his side, he pulled me into his arms. He tucked my hair behind my ear, a gentle gesture that always made me feel special.

“I’m so happy, baby,” he added. “So happy that we met again. That you weren’t taken, or that you didn’t scream and tell me to piss off.”

I chuckled as I lifted my hand to his face, my pointer finger running across his stubbled chin.

“I’d have never done that,” I said.

“Well, I didn’t know,” Harry shrugged. “You could have been married for all I knew. Shacked up with some rich bloke. I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

I thought of Alan for a second, quickly dismissing the thought with a groan. I felt Harry’s chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath and let it out.

“I’m so happy you’re in my life again.”

I smiled. “Me too.”

“You’re actually the biggest part of my life now.”

“I am?”

“Of course. I already told you I think about you all the time. You’re everything to me, baby.”

If he had more to say, I didn’t let him finish because I covered his mouth with another deep kiss. I’d never felt this way before. Yes, I had been in love with him long ago, but to know he loved me back was a completely different feeling. It was…intoxicating.

“Harry…” I cried against his lips.

“Yeah, babe?”

“I believe I’m drunk on you, too.”

He chuckled low as he rolled us over

“I’m so glad,” he smirked, his hands traveling down my sides before giving me a drunk kiss once again.

“Need your lovin' here beside me (Shine the light) Need it close enough to guide me (All my life) I've been hopin' you would find me You're the biggest part of me…”

Songs mentioned:

Ambrosia - The Biggest Part of Me

Taglist: @fkinavocado, @daphnesutton, @freedomfireflies

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[btssoul7]

Kim Hyeyoon 💜

[leeknowsintrusivethots]

Marked By Him

Part 1 | ?????

Pairings: Lee Know(SKZ)/OC, Secretssssss here

Summary: Vampyres dominate the entertainment world with their otherworldly beauty and talent. It's a world you must be born into, but a few lucky ones are Marked. Stripped from her home and everything she knows, Minji's Marking means that she has to rely on the Devil himself, Lee Minho, to be her mentor. He's cute and sweet to the public, but behind closed doors the monster comes out to play.

Content: Angst, slow burn romance, lotsa plot, eventual smut, vampires, darkish romance, original characters, first person perspective, general 18+ content, asshole Lee Know, alternate idol universe, love triangle (Surprise), pet names: kitten/mouse

WC: 2,208

Minors do NOT interact. Do NOT repost my work in anyway. This includes translations or sharing to sites such as Wattpad or Ao3.

Notes: I have risen from the dead through the power of Stray Kids. This one is intended to be a long form story, probably around 20 parts or so or until it reaches a natural end. Individual parts will be labeled as smut and smut warnings will be included for future parts. Ngl, it's mostly wish fulfillment and because not many people seem to write longer SKZ content. Enjoy, my dirty dirty friends.

"He will meet you in Conference Room Number Zero."

I waited for his arrival with anticipation creating a knot in the pit of my stomach. Not even meeting the CEO of JYP Entertainment had caused such nerves to take root. This was the person I would be spending most of my time with - the one who would integrate me into my new life. He would be my mentor and teacher. I could only guess at what kind of person he would be.

Would he be kind? Smart? As ethereal and graceful as they usually are?

They were known for their cold beauty - so chilling and unreal that it haunted people as well as it enamored them. I am sure, just like humans, they varied but every single one that graced the media was the image of physical perfection. They were Gods come to life amongst mortals. If even the average ones were half as good looking, they still had to be pretty damn exceptional compared to humans.

And so I waited.

The dusty, peculiarly ancient looking grandfather clock chimed in the corner of the room. It didn't fit the image JYP was associated with: a sleek and modern entertainment company that housed some of the brightest talents in Korea. As a matter of fact, the entire 'conference room' felt out of place compared to the rest of the building. The modernity of the outside was forgotten in the confines of the four walls that surrounded me.

The wallpaper was reminiscent of an ancient mansion: a dark royal blue with silver feligreses interspersed through the length. All of the windows in the building were tinted darkly to ward off paparazzi but also natural light, but the windows in this room were completely covered. The only light source came from elegant sconces that dotted the walls and an antique lamp that sat in on the corner of the desk I was seated at. The rest of the room was filled with shelves of books and peculiar looking items that my frazzled brain refused to make sense of.

All I could do was marvel at where life had taken me: at how I was going from ordinary to extraordinary.

The doorknob twisting had me sitting up straighter in my seat and my eyes widening in alert. I held my breath as the door disengaged and opened. It felt like life had gone into slow motion as he entered. As I took in my mentor, the world stopped as my heart sped up and heat rose in my cheeks.

He was beautiful. He had sharp facial features that only God himself could have chiseled: perfectly pouty lips that would put most human women to shame, large dark eyes that captured the soul at a glance, perfectly styled black hair that looked so thick and soft I wanted to run my hands through it just to see if it was real, and clear skin without a single blemish. He could have been a painting, a true work of art.

And even more insane: I knew who he was.

I watched music videos with him in them. I bought his group's albums at every release. I had posters of him on my bedroom walls back in Busan. I had spent countless hours of my youth being a dedicated fan.

"Minji?" Lee Minho questioned with a raised brow.

I was so enraptured I hadn't even noticed the door shut. I hadn't even noticed that he had crossed the room to stand behind the chair opposite of me. I had also completely forgotten my manners. I pushed back from my chair in a haste and stood up. I bowed deeply, partly out of how much respect I had for him but also as an apology for forgetting myself.

"Hello. I am Minji," I greeted formally.

He nodded with an air of boredom about him in return before taking the seat he was behind. Even the way he sat was gracefully beautiful. The man could burn whole cities and he would be forgiven based on his looks alone.

"Sit," he commanded simply. I did as I was told and resumed my seat immediately. I couldn't help but to study his features further, committing them to memory to paint later. His sharp jaw, his soft looking mouth, and his eyes. Eyes that were staring at me with something scarily remicent of disdain under a dark cocked brow.

Suddenly, I felt inferior. I felt unworthy to look at him so blatantly. Who was I to stare at someone like him? My eyes fell to the table before me in something akin to shame.

"I am assuming the Tracker gave you all the usual information pamphlets?" he asked in a bored tone. I got the impression he wanted to be anywhere other than in that room with me. It hurt that the man I idolized seemed to be so disinterested in me, but what did I expect? He had millions of fans all over the world.

"Yes," I answered as steadily as I could. I heard him rustling through papers and waited as patiently as I could for him to offer more information or even ask something else, but he didn't. I only willed myself to glance up at the loud thud of something being dropped onto the desk in front of me. It was a large book - a textbook. It was eerily new and modern compared to the rest of the contents in the room. The title was simply "Marked."

"This book has been approved by the Association to help guide you into your new life," he said with a small but beautiful chuckle at the end as if he found the book amusing more than anything. "You will finish a chapter every two days in-between normal idol training."

"I- I can do that," I stuttered when he paused as if waiting for a response.

"Good girl," he almost scoffed in mockery at my answer. My cheeks heated again and strangely a small tingle made itself known between my legs at the insincere praise. I did my best to ignore it. When he didn't continue, I chanced a glance up at him to find him smirking in amusement before he continued. "After each chapter, we will meet here for any questions and to review what you have learned."

He paused again, and I nodded to show I understood without daring another look at him. I was never a loud or overly confident person, I was simply quiet. That didn't mean I was a doormat, until Lee Minho walked through the door. I was fairly certain at that moment I was wearing a shirt inviting him to step on me.

"I was told to make myself available to you for further questions and help in between meetings," he continued. I heard a rustling as he stood from his chair. I refused to look up even as his shoes appeared in my peripheral. I could feel his presence next to me like a reaper come to take my life, but the normal feeling of body heat was absent. A cold hand pushed the long loose hair back from my shoulder, exposing the bare column of my neck to the chill of him and the room. I involuntarily shuddered.

"You won't have any questions or need any help, will you?" he asked with a faux saccharine in his voice that somehow chilled me to my core. The blood in my veins had turned to ice as my heart pumped harder to compensate. My words stuck in my throat as a strange panic set in.

I knew they were dangerous. I knew they could hurt me, but this was Lee Minho - Lee Know of Stray Kids. He was the weird but sweet one who showed his affection by spanking his fellow members. He was not the kind of person who discreetly threatened strangers, but I felt like that's exactly what he was doing.

"Answer me, Mouse," he all but demanded with the fake sweetness fading and the chill boredom returning to his voice.

Insanity comes in all forms and from all places. Sometimes it's as simple as someone making a noise that gets on your nerves that makes you snap. In my case: I had traveled to a whole new city on my own and uprooted my life in a move that was not of my choosing. I was alone. I was scared. I was changing into something I couldn't even begin to comprehend in a world I had only read about, and the man I had considered to be my ultimate kpop bias was threatening me and treating me like a burden. The actual audacity.

My head snapped up and my eyes found his. I stared at him with a newfound sense of annoyance. I didn't ask for this - I wasn't even sure if I wanted it. How could he treat me so badly when he was fully aware of the situation?

"My name is Minji," I snapped with as much force in my voice as I could muster. "If we are to be forced into this situation together, at least call me by my proper name."

I don't know what I was expecting, but I wasn't expecting him to give a dark chuckle and his eyes to fill with - amusement? I also wasn't expecting long elegant fingers to reach up and take hold of my chin in a firm grip. His touch was cold. Despite my efforts to keep it from affecting me, it shot sparks of heat through my entire body in contrast to his temperature.

"Maybe not a mouse, then. A kitten with little ineffective claws," he mused. He held my gaze as he taunted me, keeping his hold firm on my chin. His face came closer and my delusional heart pounded out an encore. His soft lips were right there, just mere inches from my own. I could feel his cool breath on my cheek as he moved to my ear. His next words tickled my skin and had me shivering again. "Careful, Kitten. I like the feisty ones."

Insanity gripped me again. It was madness, pure and simple. I was taunting not a God like I thought, but the devil himself. I was starting to see that, but I did it anyway. "I'm sure they don't feel the same way. Cats are very good judges of character."

A sharp inhale against the side of my face followed a light chuckle as he pulled back to hold my gaze captured yet again. The amusement was still present, boredom all but gone, but it was mixed with something else - something darker, scarier.

"Word of advice kitten," he started. His cool hand released its grip on my chin to trail up my jaw and to the center of my forehead. "This Mark doesn't mean shit. You will never really be one of us - just an imitation - and no one here will praise you for it. It's a target, and you will be surrounded by predators."

"Why?" His words chilled me, actually had me fighting the impulse to shake in my seat, but the confusion weighed out. I didn't understand this world - I didn't understand them.

"Don't ask questions, Kitten, and maybe I'll take care of you if I decide it's worth it." For just a brief moment, his eyes glanced down at my lips. My silly heart almost couldn't take it, but I persevered.

"But-"

"No," he stated firmly. His hand had fallen back to my chin, and his thumb brushed against my lower lip almost accidentally. My breath hitched. "Listen and behave, Kitten. That Mark already draws attention, don't make it worse by being a brat."

With that, his cool presence was gone. He moved away so fast that I blinked and he was across the room at the door with his sinful fingers wrapped around the door handle. He didn't turn back as he spoke again. "A car is waiting at the front of the building. It will take you to the dorms. Welcome to hell, Kitten."

His words, combined with the entirety of the events that had just transpired, were the icy wake up call I needed. I had been Marked. I was entering a new plane of existence I knew hardly anything about, but I was already learning. It was dangerous. It was not at all like the media and the Association wanted the world to believe. They had painted the things that go bump in the night to be beautiful but perfectly normal parts of society - but the painting was beginning to turn red for me and it was only day one.

An antique mirror wedged between two bookshelves caught my eye. I vacated my seat and went to stand before it. The girl in the mirror was familiar. Long, dark hair, a light complexion with a smattering of freckles across the nose bridge. It was me, yet it wasn't. The mark stood in stark contrast against my skin. It was a dark purple outline in the shape of a crescent moon. It was a sign that I was changing. It was a sign I was becoming one of them.

I was becoming a Vampyre.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

CELEBRITY | chapter 01

rúben dias x original female character [+18]

SYNOPSIS: The protagonist knows for a fact she'll be famous someday. The way it happens is not as she planned, though. WARNINGS: dark romance; revenge p*rn; minor injury; mentions of blood; mentions of cheating; minors dni.

|[previous chapter]| — |[masterlist]|

CHAPTER I — THE VIDEO

The worst day of her life starts in a cramped apartment, a tiny box in a decaying building, a place where dreams wither and die.

The peeling wallpaper has witnessed too many damp nights, and the floorboards groans in complaints with every reluctant step. The window panes are coated with city filth, and they can barely let in the slivers of a gray day; the light looks worn out before it even hits the furniture.

And then, there’s the protagonist. Radiant, untouched by the dumpster fire that is this place. She glides through the chaos like a ghost of grace. Her presence is a sunbeam slashing through the fog, a reminder that even in the darkest corners, there can be a glimmer of something extraordinary.

Beyond the protagonist’s bedroom it's chaos incarnate. Dirty dishes pile up in the sink, and the hum of low-budget appliances mixes with the muffled arguments and laughter from her roommates and neighboring apartments. In the bathroom, the mirror is cracked and stained, reflecting fractured images of each occupant's struggle for normalcy.

Our girl sneaks into the kitchen and with ease, she starts brewing coffee, a sort of morning ritual of calm amid the storm.

As the bitter aroma begins to fill the air, she mechanically grabs her phone and dives into the vortex of her social media, seeking a quick escape from the madness around her.

She hears it before she realizes what it is.

A scream, raw and unrestrained. It's her own scream – a guttural reaction to something horrific she's just seen on the screen. The coffee, momentarily forgotten, sends ripples in its mug. She clutches the phone, her eyes wide with shock.

Fury courses through her veins, and she can't recall stepping into a car; all that matters is where she’s headed. 

How dare he?

She doesn't know what’s worse – the damning video or the venomous audio that followed:

“You said you wanted to be famous! Bitch, I can make you famous.”

It's the video. The video is worse.

She searches her memory, but there's no recollection of consenting to being recorded. No agreement, just an invasion of privacy. Yet, it’s there – the video he felt entitled enough to send. 

A voice in her head insists he won't share it, that he's married, and the consequences would be dire for him. But logic loses its battle against the graphic images on the screen – his face absent, only a hand and an even more inappropriate part of his anatomy. 

It shouldn't matter. If he's unhinged enough to do this, she can't risk it. Panic sets in; she needs assurance that he deletes every trace he has of her. She's not Kim Kardashian; her feeble singing career would crumble at the exposure of a video with a married Premier League player. Recovery would be impossible.

When she arrives at his home, she feels like an intruder. It's a familiar place, one she's sneaked into countless times in the nighttime, when he had the house for himself. But being there for the first time in the light of day, she discovers the opulence of the house feels utterly alien.

The grandeur of the entrance foyer greets her like an unwelcome guest. An imposing staircase sweeps upwards, adorned with an ostentatious chandelier. The air carries the unmistakable scent of his expensive cologne and the lingering residue of privilege.

In the living room, she finds him surrounded by friends.

“What the fuck?” He's incredulous at her audacious decision, silently grateful that his wife is away with the kids. “You can’t just show up here. Are you crazy?”

“Oh, now I’m the crazy one? Delete that video. I won't let you ruin my life.”

At the corner of the room, the male lead sits down, observing the brewing storm. He quietly calculates his next move.

The protagonist holds her ground. "Delete the damn video."

And her demand hangs in the air.

“Fuck, no!” REDACTED answers.

The tension escalates and the confrontation reaches its boiling point. The protagonist feels a surge of frustration and helplessness, she clenches her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The pain is immediate, a sharp sting that momentarily dulls her emotional turmoil. Ignoring the throbbing ache in her hands, she turns away from REDACTED. 

She finds a small decorative object on a nearby table – a delicate crystal vase. In an impulsive act of frustration, she grabs the vase without a second thought. The cold surface presses into her hand, and with a swift, unthinking motion, she throws the vase against the wall.

The sound of shattering glass echoes through the room. A shard of glass grazes her hand in the process and a small trickle of blood emerges, running down her fingers.

The room falls into a stunned silence. 

With a timing reserved only for the most special characters in a story, the male lead speaks up.

“Come on, man. Do what she’s asking.” He directs his friend, breaking the tension with a straightforward command. It's the first time the protagonist takes a good look at him.

Rúben Dias. She knows him, of course, she knows everybody in the team, but she has never seen him up close before. He's beautiful, and in this moment, he exudes an imposing aura. Even though he's not speaking directly to her, she still recoils under the weight of his presence.

“Jesus, alright. I’ll delete it. Come on, I was just joking!” REDACTED raises his hand in a mock surrender, laughter dripping from his words. “I’ll delete it.” He repeats.

And he does, though not without silently cursing Rúben for being in the room and witnessing the scene. REDACTED knows if things went south, Rúben would open his big mouth and get him in trouble, leaving him no other choice. He shows his phone to the protagonist, revealing the file with her name on it, protected with a password. The contents are too much for her to bear, and she has to hold back a wave of nausea. Nevertheless, he deletes everything, and she leaves the house immediately afterwards.

The door closes behind her with a muffled thud. To her surprise, Rúben is right there, having followed her.

“Fuck off!” She says, her voice is a mixture of frustration and defiance.

“I’m not ‘fucking off’. Come on, let me take you to a hospital. You’re bleeding!” He insists with genuine concern on his face.

“I’ll just wash it, it’ll be fine.” The protagonist dismisses, attempting to downplay the situation.

“Seriously, my mother would kill me if I just left you here.”

She stops, hesitating for a moment, before finally saying, "Can you just drive me to a hospital and leave me there?" There's a brief pause, and then she adds, "I don’t want to be seen with you, no offense."

To her surprise, he doesn't look offended, and so she continues, "Also, help me text a friend so she can meet me there?”

He laughs, breaking the tension, and says, “That’s a good compromise. Now let’s go!”

|[masterlist]| — |[next chapter]|

[zhongrin]

🎈🧸📷💎🍿🍒 for the ask game!!! u can choose who :)

- sachie (if that's too many, just pick your favs i guess hahahsk)

[ selfship ask game -> ]

SACHIE SWEETIE YOU SPOIL ME HSDLFJSKDJFLKJDSLF <3 <3 <3

super long answer so utc it is shdfksdj

🎈— what is your most precious memory with them?

zhongrin ー when we got married for the first time, millenias ago 💍 meitham ー our reunion when he picked me up at the gate of sumeru city, the first day i decided to move back to sumeru!! wrin ー the night he finally bit the bullet and confessed 💞 jingmei ー the first time i woke up in his bed after spending a night with him renmei ー the first time he's lucid enough as blade to recognize me, after my rebirth and the revelation that we used to be lovers back in the days ;w;

🧸— favourite gifts from each other?

zhongrin ー our marriage ring ᰔᩚ meitham ー for al haitham, a bookmark made from the flowers i gave him on our first anniversary. for me, a custom-made matching guzheng nails & its holder made of clearwater jade wrin ー for wriothesley, it's rinsley; the 'pet' dog gardemek due to be scrapped, which i somehow managed to commission to repair + programmatically override its behaviour into a harmless(well okay maybe not really-) pet dog. for me, it's this promise ring which can be infused with his cryo elemental energy to form a very pretty diamond-like looking stone on its crown; it'll eventually melt away if not properly infused with cryo regularly…. hence it's his promise to always come back (home) to me every day hehe ᰔᩚ jingmei ー a specialized pair of jade abacus disguised as an accessory (for him, an ornate tassel for his guan dao, and for me, it's a jade bracelet) which is interconnected to each other and has a variety of functions ;3 renmei ー for blade, it's a locket with a scent paper of my soap (i don't wear perfumes so yeah). for me, it's the other pair of his earring which i use as a necklace!

📸 — do you have any photos of your f/o? do you use it as your wallpaper?

for my phone, i have custom themes saved for zhongli, jing yuan, and wriothesley (i'm a little picky when it comes to wallpapers haha). though i rarely use them; i mostly have my family as my lock/home screen. my ipad has zhongli as the lock screen, though!

💎 — if you and your f/o were in a fake relationship/marriage, who do you think would lose at falling in love first?

me. i would always fall first. cw. personal rambling-ish. i personally think it's hard to fall in love with me, unless someone really get to know me and gain that trust so i can feel comfortable enough to be vulnerable & open to them (and if i don't seem like this kind of person to your eyes, it's most probably because i don't have any inhibitions being open and honest online, especially due to the anonymity aspect of tumblr). because otherwise, i'm just very normal and boring, sometimes even coming off as cold. and i'm also timid in the way that if someone is too friendly to me, i would just close myself even more. i think i project these traits a lot to my s/i, hence you might notice how 'plain' and/or 'shy' they usually are compared to other people's s/i? but i think it's something i actively project and consciously do, because i don't want to be extraordinary; that's just not who i am, i feel. i just want to be normal and average and broken and still have my f/os love me anyway. i want them to see the smallest, simplest things, and find it endearing/worth loving. unrealistic? maybe. but it's not like they're actually real so who cares lol

🍿 — your perception of them and their perception of you?

i've been contemplating these days… and i have to admit that i have… a high standard when it comes to getting into a serious relationship with someone. especially when it comes to wisdom and maturity. so i'd like to think that all my f/os has a deep understanding of who i am as a person… some of them might even understand me more than i do (zhongli, al haitham, jing yuan). their perception of me is probably just me in my rawest form. i could go in depth about my perception of them but i don't think i can ever have the patience to collate them all into a single post so i'm not going to try hsdkljfksld just know that it wouldn't be 100% canon because obviously personal biases will affect my viewpoint about them.

🍒 — what would your contact names be for each other?

answered here ->

[meat-wentz]

Drop the Wes Anderson thoughts

cracking my knuckles cause i finally have time to sit down and write this after tumblr obliterated it from existence last time. note this may be a ramble more than an essay bc i have a lot of thoughts. so the thing about wes is that i have such a complicated relationship with him specifically because of the way his gaze affects literally everything around him. like his vision is something that is so singular that as a young person it was so influential to the way i thought about and gathered information about the world simply because i loved the way he looked at it and i wanted to somehow acquire that way of looking. it’s interesting because more than wes is a filmmaker he’s more of a curator and he always has been, and what’s hilarious about that is that in the “esteemed” sense of the word “curation,” he’s really bad at it. like he curated this exhibit in vienna and it was just an absolute mess, like he was pulling items and pieces from their archives in a way that felt like he was pulling for a curio shop opening more than he was an actual exhibit that had a theme and a running narrative or common ground to cover (era, region, subject matter, all that jazz). he was putting displays three inches off the ground in vertical displays, which, speaking in exhibition terms is a horrible idea because it completely halts the flow of the guests by forcing them onto their hands and knees in order to view a piece while also presenting it in a way that offers the least advantageous look at said piece (angles are everything), idk i have a whole thing about this bc one of my bffs has worked in museums in various different countries their whole adult life and another one of my bffs has a degree in art history and i myself was three credits shy of an art history minor before i said fuck it i just wanna graduate, like all in all there’s just a whole reason exhibits tend to have the layouts they have and the pieces that have been chosen for display. so when it comes to that “esteemed” sense of curation in a professional sense, wes isn’t very good at it. but what wes has excelled in has always been curation in the medium of film in a way that film tends not to think about curation. his interest in the world is so carefully crafted and he’s found a way that is so specific and unique to his vision that he can present it to his audience in a way that is so specifically him. he has an interest in the object, the mundane, the beauty of a world where binoculars can be elevated to art, to a realm of the fantastic, where binoculars can be used to evoke a sense of nostalgia and sweetness, can be important to the point of dictating the way a narrative is told. given the medium of film, wes does beautiful beautiful things to the world around him, every object in a frame is carefully selected and curated to have purpose in creating a sense of the world that very much can exist, we just don’t have the means to make it exist (does that make sense?), he will show you beautiful compositions of the ordinary and make them extraordinary: a fur coat, a tracksuit, pink wallpaper, a kid’s painting, a fan, a cigarette, a radio, a pastry, a bike, a wingback chair, everything in a frame is meant to say “have you seen this? now can i show you how i see it?” and he doesn’t stop with the visual, his soundtracks are handcrafted mixtapes, love letters to the things he’s showing us, even his dialogue tends to be minimalistic displays of distinct word choices and compacted one liners delivered very often in a monotonous manner in order to punch through to the audience that the words are what matter the most.

with wes, every bit of his films is displayed with a sense of objectivity. it is curation in a way that is purely wes anderson, it’s an interior museum of putting things on display and saying this means something to me please see it, but asking the audience not to touch, not to engage, only to look and contemplate and give meaning. it’s the same kind of desperate plea i see in myself, of constantly trying to show people the things that have meaning to me in *my way* to show people things and have them internalize it the same way i have, to experience the world in the same way *i* experience it, but to also lend the meaning they find *back to me* (idk if i’m articulating this correctly). it’s basically like saying hi yes here is my favorite shirt, it is my shirt and i love it and i want you to see it and i will tell you all the stories about wearing this shirt that have brought me immense joy in this life, have you thought about everything i told you about this shirt? have you placed yourself in this shirt while i was telling you about it and did you imagine what it was like to be wearing this shirt while you imagined yourself being me? okay good good, now you know it is a very special shirt and i want it to be your favorite shirt too, but also please realize it is in fact *my* shirt and *my* experience of the shirt, it is mine and it makes me special and now it is yours by proxy but it is not *yours*. i think it’s a very human endeavor he’s showing us, that speaks to him and about him, no matter how removed and distanced a lot of his audiences may see his films as (“style over substance,” “aesthetics only”).

given all of that too, there’s the problem of wes anderson. he makes objects of everything on screen, and that means making objects of cultures and people and then not realizing how harmful his vision of these things tends to be. the way he presents specifically people of color as objects meant for beauty or exotic flair has always been hella weird and hella upsetting. i carried a lot of wes anderson movies with me as a teenager and continue to still hold a select few in my stable as films i find immense pleasure in, but i have not watched a new wes anderson film since grand budapest because i just can’t find it in me to see idk a movie that takes place in japan and has english speaking main characters while all the japanese characters speak japanese without any subtitles or translation, effectively turning them into foreign objects for contemplation rather than idk actual characters. it’s the whole problem with wes at the end of the day. he’s soooo white that his view of the world immediately gets tainted once you realize what you’re looking at. it’s a complicated relationship to have as i’ve held a lot of his films close to my heart and they really did shape how i looked at the world in some very formative years in my life but also looking back it’s like oh…cool that’s what i am to you…i’m not real, i’m not a person, i’m an object, i’m a display case, i’m the exotic accent piece, while a pair of binoculars is the centerpiece.

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