#i spent like an hour and a half working on the texture for her top bcus i didn't want to use some generic googled galaxy picture

[screampied]

❛ PHEREMOANED ?! ❜ t. fushiguro

☆ sum. after three long years in the slammer, toji returns home to you—his pretty sweet fiancé. to surprise him, you decided to spray on your new expensive pheromone perfume. was it the best idea? probably not. you wanted to tease him, not make him feral.

warnings. fem! reader, ex-convict toji, pwp, feral toji, scent kink, unprotected, manhandling, size kink, cúnnilingus (he eats it from the back), toji has a tongue piercing, brēeding, marathon séx, choking, spít, impact play, hair pulling, overstim, tummy bulges, overstim.

wc. 6.2k

toji fushiguro never knew how to stay out of trouble—he had a temper and that wasn’t really a surprise.

he’s lucky he got released early on good behavior. three years, one thousand and ninety-five days, twenty six thousand hours and thirty six months spent apart from him. regardless though, you were patient—making sure to visit him during visiting hours and all. but the day he gets released, you get an idea. scrolling online, you read an article about pheromone perfume and skimmed across some pretty eye-catching stories. you ordered it about two weeks prior, waiting for his release to actually try it. spritzing a few good sprays on yourself, you wait by the front door where one of his friends, presumably shiu was dropping him off at.

creaaaak, the wooden door opens and there stands toji. he’s still in his orange jumpsuit, tresses of shaggy sable bangs brushing down his eyes, briefly occluding his vision. “hey, girl,” he gruffs, catching you in his arms once you tackle him into a hug. his big big arms cage you in before he kisses the top of your head. “missed y-”

toji pauses, and you let off a gasp once he abruptly digs his face inside the crook of your neck. “hn. . new perfume, baby?” good, so it really does work. his scarred hands rest toward your hips before he starts to sniff all down your neck, groaning against your skin.

“y- yeah,” you stammer, feeling his hands grip against your blouse. “you like? it was on sale.”

“i love it but it’s damn strong,” he murmurs, and out of nowhere—he lifts you up, tossing you over his shoulder. a giggle nearly leaves from your lips as he starts to trod toward the bedroom, loud boots clanking against the marble-made floor. “did you spray it between your legs too? fuck, you’re just asking to be ruined tonight, baby.”

well shit.

everything happens so fast,

one second you’re hugging your fiancé who just got released from prison and the next, he’s tossing you on the bed, making you spread your legs.

you’ve seen a lot of different faces of toji but this, this was entirely new. he’s got the type of look in his eyes where he wants something and he won’t hesitate to take it . . even if that something is you.

seeing you like this, sprawled all out on the bed with that cute perplexed expression of yours, fuck.

three years. three years without any kinds of physical contact he had to endure, and with the addition of your new pheromone perfume. perhaps you had some kind of death wish.

“spread ‘em,” he huffs, clicking his tongue. toji’s eyes were already hooded and half-lidded. he’s panting already and he’s not even looking at you.

just from staring between your legs, he could almost taste you on his tongue - his tastebuds were already salivating at the carnal thought. toji’s verdant dim eyes stare straight between your legs, right near the very crevices. “wait, no,” and you gasp again once he flips you over, making you flop down on your chest. “ass up baby. i don’t wanna look at you right now. wanna look at her.”

his hands were so hot, quite literally.

his bare palms had all kinds of scars painted near the centers with such rough texture as he feels against your ass. you try to suppress an incoming moan as your back willingly arches forward. your cheek’s being smushed against the silky red cover of your own pillow before he leans in.

toji’s wetly kisses against your ass cheek, nearly ripping your skirt in two. “mhm,” he groans, and even now, he’s still smelling you. your legs start to shake and quiver once he’s smelling every part of your thighs. toji drags his nose up and down, he’s making sure he can take in all of your perfume, he even licks down your legs. you’ve seen him feral before but never like this. his palm continues to rub against your skin before the button tip of his nose reaches toward your panties. “fuck, don’t know how much i missed you, princess.”

“t- toji,” you whine through gritted teeth, and he’s flicking his tongue against the lace pad of your panties. your smell, it was so good - he just couldn’t get enough.

it scratched a obscene itch in his brain, making him so aroused—so much so that you weren’t helping the strain in his jumpsuit sweats at all. toji’s boner was almost painful, it prods against the thin fabric of his jumpsuit and your scent only made his throbbing so much worse.

his hair tickles against the corners of your thighs as you feel his warm breath ghost against your sopping entrance. oh, right. you were kind of sort of a bit drenched—you had played with yourself out of pure boredom. you failed to make yourself finish but he didn’t have to know that.

toji noticed right away and he raises a brow, two pinching fingers pulling your panties to the side. “she’s soaked,” he utters in a low voice—he sounds almost offended. “wonder why that is.”

you let off a broken moan once he peels your panties to the side with just his teeth, dragging a fat swollen thumb right down your drooling slit. “fuckk, smell so good baby but i bet you taste even better.”

and within seconds, his tongue delves right between your legs. once he starts—there’s no prying him off. whenever it was pussy involved, toji was an animal.

he could eat you out for hours, no breaks, not caring at all if his jaw locks and tightens. he ate you out as if it wants some sort of competition, and he’d always get a gold medal. every single time. .

you’re facing the opposite way while he’s eating you from behind, two open palms squeezing against both soft cheeks of your ass. the tiny ball of his piercing gradually flicks against your clit and you nearly let off a shriek. the stimulation has you gasping for air and it felt so good—you’ve never felt more sensitive.

toji spreads your ass wider, dipping his lengthy wet tongue in and out before spitting down your entrance. “ptf,” and it’s a glossy slimy trail that dribbles straight down the cracked slope of your ass before oozing near your puffy pussy. it’s so sloppy, he laps it right up before spitting on it again and again.

toji hasn’t tasted you in forever, three years felt like forever and he wanted to make sure he’d make up for lost time - with his tongue.

“mhm, keep squirmin’ doll, see where it gets ya,” he’d gruff in a husky tone, feeling your entire body starting to writhe and shudder all from his mouth.

despite his jaw already locking—his face was flushed and tears of sweat sprayed against his forehead. even still, the dark haired man showed no signs of fatigue. you just tasted so sweet, and your loud pheromonal smell made things worse.

you slouch back against the cushioned mattress, peering behind you to see him sloppily give your pulsating cunt three second slurps. fuck, his tongue. it was so long.

you felt every extending inch of it trace and curl all throughout the swollen walls of your pussy. he had to make sure your pretty pussy remembered who it belonged to. his rosy pink tip swirls around and around, side to side, up and down—he makes it toy in every witch direction. toji then starts to merrily spell out the thirteen notorious letters of his name over and over.

t - o - j - i - f - u - s - h - i - g - u - r - o.

once his tongue curls in such a slick spiraling manner, your tummy heaves once he spells out the letter ‘s’ with his tongue. it twirls from up to down, and he even grumbles out the letters under his breath in that low, raspy voice.

two big hands cling onto your rickety thighs before he spanks your ass once he sees you trying to reach down between your thighs to touch yourself. “watch it, little girl,” he snarls, the sudden pitchy tone in his rough voice making you throb right on his tongue. he’s practically making out with your cunt now, french kissing your slobbering entrance. toji’s just casually nose deep, taking every few seconds to smell against your clit. “she’s mine.”

“tojiiii—” you moan, continuing to rock your unsteady hips back into his face. toji’s patchy stubble rubs all over against your skin until it’s just profusely dripping from your slick juices.

the scar that runs down the right side of his lip smears against you also. it feels so rough as it scraps against your folds. your pussy twitches as he starts to drag his face back and forth against your slick and you gasp once his tongue slides further up.

up, up, up until it reaches there.

“ah, now what do we got ourselves here,” he whispers, and you moan once he plugs a fat thumb against your puckering hole.

your teeth dig into the cottony fluff of the pillow that’s sat right in front of you. toji’s thumb, he circles it around before lolling out his tongue. even though you’re not directly facing him, you can just hear how wet it is—how wet you are.

you’re squelching so loud that it bounces off the walls, ricocheting against every peeling corner.

the syrupy saliva that departs and smacks from his lips once he open his mouth. “god, ‘yer fuckin’ wet, baby. just for me,” he murmurs, and he creates a long slippery slicking trail from the starting point of your throbbing clitoral hood all the way until he reaches your hole. he pauses as sheeny drool following his mouth. saliva continues to slip away from his wry crooked lips as his lips open and close. he’s fucking sloppy.

it was no secret—toji fushiguro was feral, happily smearing his face against your cunt whilst his tongue multitasks, licking near your ass.

it’s a sensation that almost tickles but oh, you weren’t laughing. your toes curl up in pure ecstasy and your face scrunches as he’s just devouring you whole like the starved man he was.

“ngh, tojiiii,” you whine, feeling the luscious twirl of his fat long tongue run over against every part of your pussy. your estatic nerves felt it all, he was very precise and never missed a spot.

toji’s lip scar that swoops down the right curve of his mouth faintly brushes up near your clit as his head continues to move. he hears you ‘ooh’ at the ticklish feeling and he chortles darkly. he likes to loll out his tongue even further, repeatedly thwacking the center of his tongue against your clit just so you can grow dumb from his piercing.

with your chest continuously dipping and heaving, you’re shivering against the as he’s got a face full of your ass—he feels you reaching from behind, grabbing near his overgrown unkempt strands to give it a nice mean tug. you’re dragging his head against your pussy now, even if your grip was a bit weak. “ohmygod, ‘s gonna make me cum too quick, toji.”

“taste so sweet, he grumbles, your viscous slick gluing all against his reddened scarlet lips. toji continues to dip and delve his lengthy flat tongue in and out of your sweet puckering hole before trailing it back up towards your cunt.

you let off a pretty mewl that lasts for multiple seconds, feeling dewy saturated strings of his spit run away from his own two lips and slabber all over your wet flaps. if it’s one thing toji does, he makes sure that you’re always wet for him.

you’re biting your fist until your knuckles split, occasionally hearing him spit against your cunt again, using a clammy palm to smother it everywhere.

“my wet girl,” his lips purse, soft pants of breath fanning right against your slick. you’re frantically quavering—shaking, and those warm ghostly breaths that waft by your rear doesn’t make things any better. various tingles roam through your body as he’s eating you out from behind, savoring your taste entirely. “mhm, don’t get lazy on me now. shake y’er ass against my face, baby. fuck me back.”

you moan once he gives your right bare ass cheek a firm squeeze. cupping it into his palm, he spanks it before you obey his command. jolting soft skin recoils and jiggles against his face and toji snickers, lying his wide tongue even flatter against your exposed wet pussy.

“uh huh, atta girl, lemme taste all of you,” and as he’s slurping, it doesn’t take long before you’re shooting utter blanks yet again.

interrupting static deafens your ears as a roaring wave crashes through your veins. your knees abruptly buckle until you’re collapsing forward in the mattress and its silky sheets. only then do you now finish on his tongue, letting off a shrilling whine.

“mhm, there it is, there’s my sloppy baby,” and a lustrous stream of your sweetened juices spew down his chin. his chin’s now shiny, and your glistening slick even decorates his stubble.

“fuck,” he takes a moment to breathe, flicking his tongue against his lips. so sweet, toji’s dark eyes rove down at your cute elated state as you slumped into the pillows. you’re trying to crawl away but with two hands, he’s reeling you right back into him. “oh, no ya don’t. get back here, pretty girl,” and your lips part into an ‘o’ as you gasp, feeling his teeth playfully nibble against your pussy.

and toji doesn’t let you escape his grasp. not yet anyway, he was starving. he missed you, and his tongue showed that.

you hadn’t realized how much time’s passed whilst he’s between your legs—you’d guess it’s been a few hours since it was almost dusk now.

toji was a eater, he’s got you lied flat on your back now as he’s slurping you clean. his tongue flicks underneath his bottom lip, tasting the mess you caused that’s pouring down his slick chin. it’s probably been your fifth orgasm and your legs can barely hold themselves up.

“mhm,” and he’s just munching your pretty pussy, glossy strands of his own saliva mixing with your sap continues to dribble down his chin. he’s made such a mess, all because of you. “you sprayed between your legs, didn’t you baby?”

“n- no,” you lie, dragging his head back and forth against your cunt. you did, but to be fair you didn’t think it’d work. you thought it was just another scam. but it wasn’t — toji was here, eating you out as if your pussy was the last edible thing in world.

make no mistake, he was a filthy man. his entire chin’s cascading with a stream of your syrupy mess and he barely bats an eye. you didn’t know how much more you could take before he chuckles, finally departing his lips.

“you’re a bad liar,” and his voice grows deep again. you meet his eyes and that’s when toji makes you get on all fours again. “ass up. y’know the drill. atta girllll,” and you almost shiver from his touch. toji stares at your perked ass, bringing a palm towards your left templed cheek. smack, you moan from the abrupt sting before he later caresses it. “god, i missed you. those idiots wouldn’t even let me touch myself, baby. thought about you the entire time i was rottin’.”

and as he speaks, your cheek presses further against the pillow. toji tugs on his the sweats of his orange jumpsuit—the fabric writhes against his slim waist before falling down, now exposing his boxers. he watches as your ass writhes and he hums, springing out his thick cock. “shit, you don’t even realize how good you smell, do ya?”

“no,” you breathe, feeling a lump circle near the inside of your throat once he brings his tip towards your entrance.

it’s sopping wet, weeping with honeyed tears of slick before he smacks it against your puffy hood.

“fuuuck,” you whine out, the feeling of his bulbous mushroom tip bringing you so many memories. he brushes it down your sensitive slit and you feel the slimy remnants of precum that oozes off his frenulum. a hand of his wraps around his veiny length, giving it a few striking pumps before toji groans. “fuck me toji, f- fuckin’ hurry up.”

“now girl,” he brings another smack towards your rear. this time it’s harder, the recoil rings through your ears and makes you chew the inside of your cheek. “don’t rush me,” and as the bass in his voice pitches lowers and lower, you feel yourself pulsate right between your sprawled out thighs.

toji’s aligning himself, hearing your sloshing weeps sloppily exit out of your pussy. a wry smile compresses against his lips before he wraps a few fingers over the back of your throat with his free hand. “ ‘m gonna take my time with you. so, do me a favor baby. arch that pretty back ‘n shut the fuck up.”

it was such authority in his voice—despite his tip barely even being in, he felt your cunt twitching almost right away.

it makes him snicker to himself, caressing your stinging back side with a scarred bare hand.

“good girl,” and he leans further in, taking yet another whiff of your salaciously rich scent. “here it comes,” he lowly purrs, and you bite your lip once he’s finally entering inside of you.

toji’s slow, purposely. he loves more than anything to see your patience wearing thin, squirming and just aching for a crumb of dick. as he’s perfectly aligned, his swollen angered cockhead gradually starts to disappear inside of your pussy.

“biiiiig stretch, there we go babygirl. take it.” and you’re moaning at each ridiculous inch burying its way inside of you. with little to no ease at all, he’s mending your squashy walls and shaping them all due to the size of his thick cock.

he’s so big, so big that his dick makes your tummy cave in a bit and your thighs start to rattle.

toji’s got a fat delicious hook that always curves inside of you as he’s going in. it’s so good - so good to where you’re feeling butterflies brew up inside of your stomach . . unless that was just his bulge.

“toji, ohmygodohmygoddd,” you babble out, gasping with slick parted lips at the gaping barrage he makes with his dick. he’s only halfway in and yet you feel so full. you almost forgot what it was like for him to fuck you, and oh did you miss it. “you’re not—ngh, not gonna fit.”

“silly girl,” he huffs, already starting to feel himself break a sweat. his forehead’s starting to get clammy the more he’s easing his way in. the raven haired man towers over your jittery body before you feel his hungry gaze rove down your back. “we’ll make it work, princess. just like we always do, i trained this pussy well.”

squiiiissssh!

right after he speaks, you’re already gushing from his cock being so deep inside. his tip gets covered with your slick and he hums in amusement.

“even she agrees with me,” he hoarsely utters, preparing his sharp keen hips. you’re just so wet, you nibble down on your tongue as he’s losing himself further inside. it feels like forever until toji’s finally fully in. you hear a ringing ‘pop’ and that’s when you knew he was fitted nice and snug. “there we go, told ya. i always make it fit just for you—oh fuuucckk.”

your scent’s filling up the room now and it’s just driving him crazy. it gives him a headache, the kind of headache where he actually likes the pounding.

he can’t get enough of you, whether it’s your perfume, your body, or just you in general. all he knew was that he missed you and he was gonna show you how, with his deep pivotal thrusts.

“hngh, toji fuck,” you whimper out, and it doesn’t take long before he’s starting up a fast pitiless pace. the bed immediately dips from the harsh amounts of weight and pressure. toji’s got both hands glued to your hips.

his fat tip rudely thrashed at your sweet pulsing cunt time and time again. he’s simply relentless.

as he’s moving with such speed, you feel his full swollen base tap against your ass over and over.

you almost drooled, imagining how much he’d cum inside of you this time. his fingerstips dug so far into your skin that he left brief marks - it wasn’t too bad, but he’d definitely look back at it later just to tease you. “mmph, fuck toji. right there, that spot, baby.”

“i love you sweetheart but you talk too much,” he grouses, and you’re caught off guard once he pauses mid thrust just lean up close against you.

with your back still turned the opposite way, he pulls down your panties all the way, stuffing them in your empty mouth. “there, keep those pretty things in. only sounds i wanna hear is from y’er pussy, she’s the star tonight.”

toji’s cock was just merciless.

if you thought he was mean in bed, his hips were even meaner. ruthless, you’re being fucked against the springy mattress that’s creaking and the same babbles come out of your lips every time.

those same pathetic cries of his name. . it was like music to his ears. you couldn’t see yourself but you just knew you looked a mess.

you were drooling all against the satin pillow case as your eyes were just bulging out of their sockets. toji always knew how to stretch you good and stretch you right.

he was thick, driving his hips into you at such barbarous force that you were almost sure he was gonna break you. he wasn’t lying when he said he missed you. being away from you for so long was practically torture, and yes it was entirely his fault for getting locked up in the first place but still.

“ugh, mmph!” you whine, your noises becoming muffled from the bawled up panties that were stuffed inside of your puffed cheeks.

he was unapologetically drilling into your cunt as if he was a construction worker. if it wasn’t thanks to toji’s grip with hands, you’d probably fall of the bed and land flat on your ass.

“squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight—shit,” he growls, his dark brows curling up together in frustration.

your walls were so clingy, they always were. his dick knew just the right spots to make you scream. after a few sloppy hits, his sweltering hot crown starts to break through your walls, pounding in and out until you’re just dumb full of cock.

you were stupid, entirely dumbfounded—and not a single thought crossed your mind as he’s hitting against that same sweet spot. you feel your toes curl up all the way until they feel numb and you let off a inaudible squeal. “pussy’s such a crybaby, look at how much y’er sobbin’ on me, princess.” he points out, purposely slowing his thrusts down just to ogle at the glimmering cobwebs of your own slick streaming down his cock.

it’s so pretty, you’re drenching his length each second and he feels himself twitch - you feel him twitch inside of you.

as he’s still vigorously delving his fat cock in and out of you, you feel toji’s grip around your neck softly tighten. silvery fingers stroke against your tender skin and you moan, a cock drunk smile spreading across your lips whilst your mouth’s full of your own damn panties.

you even taste yourself and it leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth. toji then suddenly raises your ass up just a bit more.

“hey,” he grumbles, swatting a hand against your ass. you’re snapped out of your own lewd thoughts once the sting meets against your rear.

dark sly eyes flicker toward your body that’s twitching underneath him and he hums. “fuck back against me. don’t be a lazy girl,” and your cunt’s so close, you’re on the very verge and almost every nerve that’s buried between your thighs prepares itself for its elated finish. “fuck. me. back.” he repeats, his words an almost growl.

you whimper, quickening your hips again and he stares at your ass that’s gluing against his sharp pelvis, smack smack smacking away. the recoil was always his favorite part, he groans at how good you stick against him, luxuriating in your sweet filth.

you’re clinging onto the creamy white sheets for dear life while you’re also just casually getting the life fucked out of you.

toji always fucked like he hated you—of course, he didn’t. he loved you, he even put a pretty rock on your finger and couldn’t wait to take your last name. or vice versa.

alas, whenever the conversation went towards the bedroom, that was an entirely different story.

he was mean, sharp angered hips would plowed into you like he hated your guts. his tip’s a crimson red, kissing up against your sweetest spot that’s buried so far deep inside of you that it leaves a mark. your stomach continues to seize as he’s driving himself in and out of you, leaving a little bulge that prods near the lower part of your tummy.

“aw,” he glances at you trying to feel near the exact spot with your hand.

toji grunts lowly at the sharp twinge near his thigh, he’s almost out of fuel but he hasn’t had enough of you.

not yet.

“feel me there, yeah? ‘m really that deep, princess,” he whispers in a raspy tone, and you can hear just how out of breath he is. every few words were broken up and he’s panting right with you, pinching the bridge of his nose to suppress his own moans. “our future baby’s gonna be riiiight in here someday, princess. gonna make you the prettiest fuckin’ mommy.”

“mmph—mmph!”

“oh, right,” he cackles darkly, leaning in to pull your panties out of your mouth. once he does, you’re matching the drilling speed of his pants.

toji keeps jackhammering into your sopping wet cunt and you’re just hysterical. a raw squeal dies out from the back of your throat before you abruptly end up cumming.

it’s quick, you cream all down his cock and your eyelids fatally flap shut. “the fuck,” he pauses, and you feel yourself throbbing all around him. you’re shook, your eyebrows twist together in pleasure and you’re just trying to gasp for any breaths you could get. you pout once he stops his hips all of a sudden, still shoved numerous inches inside before he releases his hand from your throat. “i know you didn’t just cum on me baby.”

you gulp, still heavily sensitive. your body’s practically on fire and you hated that he suddenly stopped.

toji didn’t like whenever you came—without asking first at least. “ ‘m sorry,” you moan, hearing his heavy pants directly from behind you. there was a sweet bratty lie underneath your two words and he knew that. toji fushiguro was no idiot. “sorry toji, didn’t mean—”

“oh, babygirl i’m sorry too,” and you’re confused for a moment before he makes your face squish even further against the pillows. a hand of his lightly pushes your head back into the mattress. you whine once you feel him starting up again.

your pussy resumes to freely constrict around his length before he’s starting up his insane pace again. toji feels you trying to crawl away again, weakly trying to paw your hands at the edge of the bed but he’s pulling you right back.

your ass slams against him and you moan, feeling him thrash against your beloved g-spot yet again.

“nah, we aren’t running today. get back here ‘n take this,” and he talks over your sweet babbles and mewls, speaking in a faux tone to match yours. “you’re a big girl aren’t ya, yeahhh? so whatcha runnin’ for?”

as toji reels you back to his raunchy rude hips, they snap into you at full force and you’re just choking on your own mewling whimpers by this point.

hours past, many many hours of you being fucked in any and every position.

toji’s got you screaming at the top of your lungs from each delirious orgasm that he coaxed out of you. he tells you to give him one more, just one more—but that ‘one more’ ends up being at least six more.

you’ve never felt more dumb out of your mind, and every few seconds he’d run his nose down your back just to get another whiff of your sweet enticing scent. by now, he’s lost count of how many times he smelled you. whatever perfume you were wearing, it was now his favorite.

he had you creaming down his cock again and again, your legs shook in defeat and you moan once he prepares to start up again.

but that’s when you lie him back.

“ugh,” he falls back, and his arms rest over the headboard of the bed. there you’re met with the eyes of a very feral man. toji’s jumpsuit was half on, barely even on at this rate. you take a chance to look at him and he’s just so swole. your eyes roam down his beefy body. he’s definitely got more toned since the last time you saw him. his body, it’s as if he was a sculpture. his and were similar to a greek god, droplets of sweat race down near his sharp v-line and you were mentally drooling. you peer down at a few of his tats that ink into his skin, a few veins running down his forearms. “now, that’s pretty damn rude, baby. pushin’ me over like that. oughta—”

“shut up, toji,” you murmur, still trying to get over your most recent orgasm. your ears rang, so loud that it’s putting bells to shame. with hooded eyes and that same sleazy grin, he holds onto your waist as you make your way on his lap.

toji snickers, a palm of his hand squeezing your ass tight. “oh, so y’er gonna ride me. ‘s that what this is, princess?” and you could hear the smug in his tone.

he didn’t think you had the guts. .

the dimples that poke against either side of his lips confirmed his haughty expression. “cute, but fine. go ahead then, girl,” and he spanks your ass, burying his face into your neck, licking against your sweet skin. “ride me.”

you barely even last a few minutes—toji’s just too fucking big.

you’re babbling yet again at how he’s not gonna fit and he just wryly grins at you. seeing you struggle to take him for the umpteenth time continues to feed his annoying ego.

but like the gentleman he was, toji helps you.

big firm hands attach to your waist and he helps you align yourself once more. your cunt’s profusely drooling, aching for more despite the overstimulation that’s continuing to dumb you down.

“such a baby. gotta help ya with everything,” he whispers, hiding his face inside the crook of your neck.

your scent was still so loud, the smell of you alone made him throb and you felt it from the inside of your gripping pussy.

your clingy walls clamp and squeeze around him tightly before you start up your frantic hips again. twisting your brows together in lewd rapture, you whine—tossing your arms over his broad shoulders. after a few seconds, then do you start to move your hips. “fuck, that’s it baby. ride me good, yeah. move those hips, shiiit.”

he groans, feeling his pumping cock drag its way through every part of your slick walls. he never misses a spot, and he sticks his tongue out, dragging it down your collarbone.

“mhm, fuck me. ride it like you want it, princess.” he spanks your ass, hearing the bed wail and creak out frail groans of its own. your hips threw itself in a circle as you’re on his lap, taking in every inch of his thick heavy cock. toji closes his eyes, inhaling your scent for the nth time, and it’s almost as if the second you started riding him, your smell got even stronger.

your slick glosses down his cock entirely, and it’s so pretty. every chance you get, you stare down between your legs just to see the sloshing mess that’s slapping right directly right underneath you. strands of glistening juices blissfully mix with his and just it’s filthy.

it even tangles into a mere cobweb the quicker you bounce up and down his dick. “f- fuck, fuck,” you stammer, and you’re so full—full of nothing but long girthy inches.

again, his maddened plump tip was just rude.

it’s smacking against your spongy sensitive spot constantly, dragging out those cute whimpers from your throat. your fingertips claw down his back whilst your hips becoming incredibly sloppy. “toji, ‘m gonna cum again. fuck, gonna cum again. hngh, please lemme c-cum.”

“let me think about it,” he sighs, and your face cutely drops at his teasing. toji nips small minuscule bites near your neck as his cock stills inside of you. “hmmmmm,” and he even hums over your pleading whines. burly arms wrap around your waist before he squeezes near your ass. he waits for a good seven seconds before darkly chuckling, lapping his tongue directly underneath your chin. “fine. go ahe—fuck.”

toji groans because right as he speaks, he ends up cumming right with you. his teeth bites into your skin as he’s dumping in a fat load inside, creamy globs filling you up almost right away.

his body violently erupts, feeling a ripple of vibrations jolt through his body and you feel the exact same.

you felt a spark surge through your veins and your brain just turned into complete mush. as your dead hips feebly writhe against him your jaw is just hanging open. “hngh, ‘s full,” you wheeze, feeling him continue to overflow your pussy with such thick amounts.

it’s a lot, so much to where it’s drooling all down your thighs, matching color against the ivory colored sheets.

it was so warm - hot even.

you hear the sloshing spurts that it makes and you’re panting just as much as he was.

toji saved so much for you.

his jaw tightens as he leans back, one hand still glued to the right cheek of your ass. “god, i fuckin’ missed you,” he groans, feeling a tingly sensation at the way you swallow every drop with your drooling cunt. your hips waver over him, and once toji brings his face up to stare at you again, he cups your face. “you alright, princess?”

“y- yeah i—” but before you could even finish your sentence, he pulls you in a deep passionate kiss.

it’s sloppy more than anything, and you feel his hands creep down toward your tits, squeezing against your plump swollen mounds. you whine in his mouth as both tangled tongues move in tavern. shaggy bangs brush against your forehead as you wrap your arms around him. as he’s hungrily shoving his tongue down your throat, that’s when he feels your hips slowly starting to grind again.

after a few long seconds, toji pulls away, watching the lustrous trial of saliva leave from both lips. he’s still so sensitive and so were you.

“baby,” he says, raspy and out of breath. he leans in, giving you one more sniff before groaning in your neck. the insides of your thighs were sticky, glued to the very crevices with his hot gluey cum and you definitely milked him. “i need more—fuck, i need more.” and you gasp once you’re suddenly flipped over on your back.

leafy green eyes bore into your ass and you moan once toji drags a big thumb down your cunt that’s slobbering with milky globs of his seed.

“shit, look at this mess,” and he slides his tongue across his lip - specifically, across the scar that runs down his sly crooked lips. “hah, y’er tummy’s not full enough yet, princess,” and you can almost hear the pout in his voice as he’s stood behind you.

toji vertically smears his thumb against your cunt that’s weeping with such thick velvety amounts of cum. he inches his face toward your rear before bringing a kiss towards your wet entrance.

“before i give you more though, ‘m gonna have ‘ta clean this mess,” and you let off a surprised gasp once he dips his tongue back into your pussy again, the cold pierced ball that lies on his tongue making you whimper. “so be a good girl ‘n bend over again for me,” and he starts to nibble against your clit, feeling you ardently pulse against his tongue.

“heh, but i gotta say, this food right here’s so much fuckin’ better than the shit they serve us in prison, princess,” and toji spits right on your folds one last time, giving it a playful smack. “so much better. . ”

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Six)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: Some more Charlotte POV for you.

First Date <3

Placebo - Lady Of The Flowers

Excuse me, I apologize

He likes your attitude, he tries it on for size

He spends the afternoon, between your thighs

How's that for gratitude, I apologize

It seemed to last for hours

It seemed to last for days

This lady of the flowers

And her hypnotic gaze

Excuse me, I apologize

She's got vacuum-cleaner eyes

Suck you in

She's got magazines, filled with pear pies

Excuse me, I apologize

It seemed to last for hours

It seemed to last for days

This lady of the flowers

And her hypnotic gaze

She wears her tears on her blouse

Confused and racked with self-doubt

She stole the keys to my house

And then she locked herself out

Excuse me, I apologize

He likes your attitude, he tries it on for size

He spends the afternoon, between your thighs

How's that for gratitude, I apologize

It seemed to last for hours

It seemed to last for days

This lady of the flowers

And her electronic haze

She stole the keys to my house

And then she locked herself out

She stole the keys to my house

And then she locked herself out

She stole the keys to my house

And then she locked herself out

She lays me down

She lays me

Charlotte was anxious as she glanced at herself in the mirror for the fiftieth time. She’d changed into what felt like every outfit she owned before settling on this one. They were only going to the cinema so she felt a bit overdone in her pretty dresses, yet she still wanted to look nice for him. She decided on some dark grey high waisted skinny jeans and paired it with a black off the shoulder crop top with long sleeves. It was the middle of February and while the weather was slowly warming up, it was still dreary and cold. 

She had her trusty boots on and decided she’d wear her leather jacket too when it was time. She spent a little time on her make up although she once again forwent the foundation. Not only did she hate the texture it gave her skin, she had yet to find one pale enough. She used some dark brown eyeshadow around her eyes, making it slightly smoky and messy for a grungy look before framing her eyes with eyeliner and mascara. She put on some brown lipstick too, always loving the colour and made sure it was a matte lipstick. It was supposed to stay put for hours even when eating and drinking and she hoped she’d really get to put it to the test tonight. 

The thought made a smirk curl her lips as excitement made butterflies swarm her belly. God, he was handsome. More than handsome. Drop dead gorgeous. The idea of getting her hands on him again made her breathless. She wondered if he was obsessing over clothes like she had been. Probably not, he seemed as cool as a cucumber no matter what. Always seemed put together. Did he even know this was a date? She fucking hoped he did or it would be awkward. He had to, right? Hell, he’d allowed her to steal a kiss in public and hadn’t minded at all. 

She hadn't really known what had come over her when she’d done that, she knew it was risky business, but he’d turned up at her work without prompting and it had really made her hot and bothered. She’d really enjoyed getting to know him this past week and she felt like they’d slowly been building a bond that maybe went beyond just sex. Although the sex was absolutely fantastic. 

He’d told her he was a Sergeant in the army, his favourite colour was blue, like the ocean, and he loved steak and pizza. Bourbon was his drink of choice but he also enjoyed a nice cold Guinness. She felt like she’d gotten to know little snippets about him over their time talking and it was nice getting to know him.

She glanced at the clock, seeing it was almost half five. The movie started at six and Simon was going to be here soon so they could get the bus into town together. She slipped on a choker that was a dainty little silver necklace with a crescent moon dangling from it and opted to keep her silver studs in and not wear some dangly ones. Maybe that would be too much. For her hair, she’d left it in its naturally wavy state and put half of it up in a ponytail. She felt like she looked nice. She hoped she did. Would Simon think so? 

As if her thoughts had summoned him, the door knocked and she felt her stomach clench anxiously. With one last look in the mirror, she blew out a breath before moving to open the door. There he was in all his glory, tall and imposing and stupidly handsome. He was wearing dark wash jeans and boots, a pretty burgundy jumper on that fit him in all the right places. It was unfair how effortlessly pretty this man was. Her cheeks flushed when she saw his dark eyes sweep over her body, dragging back up to her face slowly with a predatory look glinting in his eyes. Maybe they didn't need to go to a movie and to get food. Maybe they could just stay here. 

“You look beautiful, love,” he murmured sweetly and it brought a smile to her face. 

When she first looked at Simon, she’d never have thought he was such a softy, that he could be so sweet. She wanted to scoff, tell him she hardly looked pretty when she was just in casual clothes, but she remembered how he didn’t like it when she talked bad about herself. She decided she’d take the compliment. Maybe he just had bad taste in women. 

“You look amazing, it's sickening,” she settled on, huffing playfully as a startled laugh left his lips.

“Sickenin’?” he asked, a smirk tugging on his lips that only served to make her more attracted to him. 

“Yep. It's really unfair that you probably roll out of bed looking like you're a model or some shit. Takes me ages just to look alive,” she snorted and he smiled fondly, grabbing her hand and tugging him to her. He’d done it before and it always caught her off guard, always made her stumble into his firm and broad chest as she blinked up at him. 

“I have it on good authority that you look like an angel even first thing in the mornin’,” he drawled and she bit her lip to stifle the stupid smile that wanted to break free. 

“You're a smooth bastard,” she muttered wryly and he chuckled, leaning in to kiss her cheek. It was so sweet and affectionate that her brain almost stopped working. But it wasn't enough, she wanted more. 

She grabbed the front of his nice jumper, the soft material bunching in her hands as she tugged him back towards her. He went willingly and she pressed her lips to his. His hand slipped around to the back of her neck as he tilted his head, teasing her lower lip with his tongue. It made her heart beat all fast and weird, her stomach feeling like it was falling out of her arse. She opened her mouth and let him in, causing him to moan softly. 

She greedily devoured the noise, pressing herself closer to him as she kissed him back feverishly. He pulled away and the pair were breathless. She felt disappointed but he rubbed his nose against hers and she melted all over again.

“If I don’t stop, we’ll miss the movie,” he murmured before he took a step away from her like he couldn't trust himself.

“So?” she asked, pouting at him and his lips tugged up in a lopsided grin as he shook his head. 

“Need to take you out proper, love. Wanna do this right,” he admitted and her pout slipped from her face, replaced by a shy smile. She wanted to ask just what ‘this’ was exactly but she didn't want to ruin the nice mood they had going, didn't want to scare him off by forcing labels before they'd even been on one date. 

Flashing him a warm smile, she moved back inside to grab her leather jacket, slipping it on before she came back outside. The pair walked down the stairs and meandered down the street to the bus stop. As they were approaching the little shelter, Simon’s hand brushed hers before he grasped it, lacing his fingers with hers. It was such a simple gesture but she felt giddy almost, looking away so he didn't see her smiling like a psycho. 

He kept hold of her hand as they sat at the bus stop and even when they were on the bus. She already felt comfortable around him to the point where she didn’t think small talk was necessary. She liked that about Simon, that she didn't have the need to fill silence with meaningless chatter. Silence with them wasn't uncomfortable. They made it to the Printworks relatively easily and she was more excited to spend time with him than to see the actual movie. 

“Sweet or salty?” He asked her as they stood in line to get snacks. She pursed her lips, wishing that they did sweet and salty. She'd only discovered sweet and salty popcorn the year before and it was the tastiest thing she'd ever had. 

“Sweet,” she settled on, looking up at him with a smile. His hand was still laced with hers, having not let go for a moment the entire time and she enjoyed it. 

“I might get a slush too… the blue one,” she mused to herself. She loved the blue slushies and never really got the chance to get one anywhere else. Simon hummed as he looked over the menu above the counter before it was their turn. He ordered the popcorn, a large tub for the pair to share, the slush and a coke. She gave him a death stare when he got the money from his wallet faster than she could get hers from her pocket. 

“Simon,” she whined exasperatedly, causing him to look at her with an amused smile. 

“Yeah, love?” He asked, a teasing, patronising tone to his voice that made her eyes squint even more. 

“You know damn well what! You already paid for the tickets and this whole thing was my idea,” she huffed. She felt bad. She'd invited him out and he was the one spending all his money. He plonked the slush in her hand and it was cold, making her shudder a little. The coldness only got worse when he finally released the hand he'd been holding so he could grab the popcorn and his drink. 

“We're not gettin’ into this again, Lottie. I told you, I wanna pay,” he murmured, giving her a firm look and she rolled her eyes. 

“Fine… then I'm paying for dinner,” she muttered petulantly and she noticed his lips quirk up ever so slightly, the pair making their way to their screen. 

“Nah, don't think so,” he replied easily. She stopped dead in the hallway with a frustrated groan and he turned to look at her with a raised brow. 

“You don't need to pay for all of it. I didn't invite you out just so you'd pay,” she frowned, guilt curling around her like a snake. His face softened then and he tucked the tub of popcorn under this arm, freeing one of his hands. He took her hand, bringing it to his lips as he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. 

“I was plannin’ on askin' you out anyway, you just beat me to it. I wanna take care of you, yeah? Let me just treat you,” he murmured sweetly and she felt her cheeks flush. She struggled internally though at the idea of someone wanting to treat her and it seemed like it was written all over her face when he spoke up again. 

“Look… if you're really feelin’ that put out about it then you can always make up for it later,” he suggested, voice lowering to sinful levels as he smirked at her. She blushed furiously and she knew she had because her face became ungodly hot. It did make her feel better though. She wasn't used to the prospect of someone wanting to do things for her for the sake of it and maybe this way it gave her rotten brain something to cling to. A way of earning the things he wanted to give her. She was far more used to an exchange, I'll do this for you if you do that for me. It felt more normal to her. Familiar and safe. 

“I'll hold you to that then,” she replied, shooting him a wry smile. He looked satisfied at disarming the self conscious bomb that was also known as Charlotte. She had a stray thought about how long it would take until he got sick of her and her neediness. Her issues. Issues that were ingrained so deeply inside of her that she didn't think any amount of therapy would help her. 

He led her into their screen and she followed obediently as he picked out seats at the back. She liked the back better, her eyes would hurt if she sat too close to the screen. The seats were fancy ones, large and plush, and as she sat down and set her drink in the holder to her right, she noticed the arms were the kind that could be pulled up and out of the way. She glanced to her left then where Simon was settling in next to her. He set his drink in the holder away from her and a cheeky smile curled her lips as she pushed the armrest between them upwards. 

He looked at her, brows raised as if he hadn't noticed the chairs were possible of such things, but his surprise melted into a warm smile when she scooched closer to him. He had the popcorn on his lap and she reached in, grabbing a handful and stuffing it in her mouth as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She'd never felt so at ease with someone before. The closeness and affectionate touches they shared seemed second nature and even though this was all new, it was like her body was acting on instinct. Gravitating towards him. 

The weight of his arm around her was comforting to her and she looked up at him as he glanced around the dark room. He was so tall and broad and imposing and she could imagine he was terrifying to anyone who was on his bad side. But she wasn't on his bad side and she found a deep sense of comfort and safety next to his large frame. His dark eyes swept the place before settling back on her, his lips twitching into a smile to see her already watching him. His large hand came to cup her cheek and her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss. 

He was an incredible kisser, the kind that poured everything into the kiss and left her toes curling. She kissed him back, fist curling into his jumper as she tried to pull him even closer. A noise rumbled in the back of his throat and she felt her whole body tingle but it was interrupted when the movie started. He pulled away from her and his eyes were dark and smouldering pits of amber, burning her skin. 

“Best watch the movie, love,” he rasped and all she could do was blink up at him in a daze. She felt like he'd put some kind of spell on her or something with the way her body reacted to him, the way her mind would go blissfully blank at a mere kiss. 

“Found something better to watch,” she replied mischievously when she finally found her voice. He looked amused, smiling fondly at her before he used the grip on her face to make her turn to the screen. She pouted and he chuckled at her, the arm still around her shoulders pulling her to his side even more. She melted into him, angling her body so it was turning into him a bit as they started to watch the movie. 

It was good but not better than the first one, although Charlotte thought that about most sequels. Rarely did they ever come up with something better than the original. They'd spent the movie attached at the hip, sharing the popcorn between them with her hand on his thigh. She'd been tempted more than a few times to let her hand wander, to dig her nails into the meaty flesh under her hand, to wander upwards to something very impressive she knew was hiding under his jeans. She behaved herself though despite her naughty thoughts, not quite sure how to handle them. 

She’d had a bit of a raunchy side for a while but she’d never been able to act on it. Once, she’d asked Ethan to talk dirty to her in bed and he made her feel like some Harlot from the Victorian era with his reaction, made her feel so stupid she daren’t ask again. She wound up fulfilling her desires through porn, especially when her relationship started getting worse and he’d ‘work late’, code for fucking her best friend apparently. She’d touch herself while watching porn, living vicariously through the videos on her screen which was rather depressing. 

But then along came Simon and he hadn't judged her in the least. The very first night they met he was curious enough to ask, made no judgement about her fantasies and then proceeded to allow her to live them out. “You wanna be my good girl, love?” She’d been powerless against him the second he’d uttered those words, already sussing her out for what she wanted, what she needed and fuck, did he give it to her. 

There was a sense of freedom with Simon she’d never felt before. A sense of being able to fully explore who she was and what she liked. She didn't feel like he’d judge her for any of it, she felt like she could give him a list of all the things she wanted to try and he’d be happy to indulge her. But while knowing this allowed her to feel somewhat bold when the mood struck her, she still hadn't been able to bring herself to fondle him in the back of the cinema. She wasn't quite that bold yet.

When the ending credits started rolling and people started filing out of the cinema, Charlotte leaned off Simon after being practically draped over him the entire time and stretched her arms over her head, enjoying the feeling of her spine stretching. 

“What did you think?” she asked him, flashing him a smile as she grabbed her now empty slush cup. She wasn't about to leave all the litter here like everyone else did, she wasn't rude. 

“It was… good,” he answered, watching as people were less and less in the screening room before he stood to his feet. Her eyes narrowed a little as she stood with him.

“You didn't like it, did you?” she asked knowingly. He hadn't made any indication while watching the film but she felt a little bad if he’d been miserable the entire time. 

“I did. Wasn’t my usual speed but it was still a good watch,” he reassured as he grabbed her empty cup and plonked it into the empty popcorn tub, where his cup also lay. Tub in hand, he took her hand in his and gave it a soft squeeze.

“Mhm, I bet you would’ve liked it more if we’d gone to see hostel,” she snorted and he glanced at her through his lashes, brows raised a little as a smirk tugged at his lips. She knew instantly she was right.

“You're a menace,” she huffed, making him chuckle as they walked into the hallway. He got rid of the rubbish before they both left the cinema. 

“Where d’you wanna go for food, love?” he asked as the pair loitered in the Printworks outside of the Cinema. There was no need for them to go trekking through town to find a place to eat when the Printworks had so many good places right here. She looked around, trying to gauge what she fancied, but then her eyes lit up when she saw an Italian place. Simon, ever watchful, followed her line of sight. She didn't even need to tell him as he started tugging her along. 

They got a table for two and she had to admit, it was far more romantic than she’d anticipated. Slow Italian music played in the background and the place was dimly lit by what seemed like a million candles. She was pretty sure it was a fire hazard but it was cosy so she didn't mind it. They both ordered the bolognese, his with a beer and hers with a glass of wine she couldn't pronounce. Simon, being the gentleman he was, had ordered for them and she’d taken great enjoyment in watching him try to pronounce the word with his thick accent until he just pointed to it on the menu. She’d earned a glare for that but when she’d smiled brightly at him, it melted off into a smile that had the tips of ears turning pink. 

She’d really enjoyed herself tonight, more than she even thought possible and she was still antsy from her thoughts back in the cinema. Knowing they’d be spending the night together had her impatient to hurry with her food, she really couldn't help it. His touch was addicting and she was longing for it. 

“Are we going back to my place or yours?” she asked when she realised they hadn't spoken about it. She hadn't packed anything to stay over at his. 

“Eager, are we?” he smirked, making her cheeks flush red as she rolled her eyes. She couldn't help the embarrassment at being so easy to read, at how obviously desperate she was being. But despite the urge to mutter something along the lines of how she was just asking, she decided she just needed to be direct. She knew he’d appreciate it. He seemed like a no nonsense man after all, no need to beat around the bush.

“What if I am?” she asked, raising a brow as she took a long pull of her wine. His eyes darkened, fork pausing midway to his mouth as he stared her down like a wolf watching a rabbit. He didn't say anything, his dark eyes pinning her in place like the helpless little prey she was as he took the bite of food on his fork. 

“Where do you wanna go?” he asked her and she should have seen it coming, he did that a lot when they spoke, always turning things around on her, making sure she was being firm in what she wanted and not just going along with other people. She twirled her spaghetti around on her fork as she blinked at him through her long lashes.

“My place,” she started, “Just ‘cause I don’t have anything to wear at yours. I washed the outfit you lent me, you could wear that tomorrow,” she suggested with a shrug before she ate her spaghetti. It was amazing and she knew she wanted to come here again. It was a bit pricey though and she’d winced internally when seeing the prices, knowing Simon was adamant on paying. It only made her more resolved to pay him back when they got back to her place.

“Sounds good to me,” he replied and while it was mostly hidden, she heard how his voice was a little deeper than before, saw the flare in his eyes as he watched her eat her food. She hoped he was as excited to get back to hers as she was. His heated gaze made heat prickle at her skin as they both are their food. He kept the conversation light but she could feel the tension between them. She didn't think she was as good as him with keeping it cool. By the time they were done with food, she was desperate to feel his body against hers. She watched him pay, knowing there was no use in protesting even though she wanted to. 

The air was cool when they stepped out of the Printworks and he grasped her hand instantly as they walked together. She bit her lip with a smile, leaning into his arm a little more. When the bus stop was in sight, her eyes widened when she saw the bus already there.

“Quick!” She called out, tugging him as she took off after it before it left. She really didn't want to be stuck at a bus stop for ten minutes or more. Her feet suddenly didn't touch the ground and she squealed, realising he'd grabbed her around the middle and was running with her. 

“Simon!” She giggled, her body being jostled with his movements. His answering laugh was deep and rich, making her heart beat about three times faster. She was sure he'd make her go into cardiac arrest. He got them to the bus in time and the bus driver gave them both an amused glance as Simon set her back on her feet and paid their fare. Her cheeks were flushed as he led her to some empty seats and pulled her to sit with him. When she looked over at him, he was already looking at her, his brown eyes warm and soft in a way that made her insides feel like jelly. 

“You're lucky I didn't throw up on you,” she snorted and enjoyed how his lips tugged up into a smile. He was so handsome when he smiled. 

“It'll take more than that to put me off, love,” he replied wryly and she rolled her eyes playfully at him. When they got back to her place, she unlocked the door before letting him inside. She kicked her boots off and noticed he did the same, putting them neatly by her door. 

“Do you want a drink?” She asked as she shrugged off her jacket and hung it up. 

“Nah… just want you,” he murmured and her lips quirked up at him echoing her own words from their first night together. She turned around to throw a witty retort at him only to find him already shirtless. His jumper was over the back of her couch and her eyes roamed his chest greedily. She wasn't sure just what the army fed their soldiers but it was hardly fair for him to look so good after eating a big meal. 

“Who's eager now?” She asked, forcing her eyes back to his face where he was watching her smugly. 

“Still you I reckon,” he smirked and she felt her face flush.

“I could always take care of myself if you're gonna be mean,” she shrugged, looking at him through her lashes before slowly walking to the bed. He was on her instantly, hands gripping her hips roughly as he tugged her back against his bare chest. 

“You really think you'd make yourself feel better than I would?” He drawled in her ear and she shivered. No, she knew she couldn't but she wasn't about to admit that. 

“Maybe,” she shrugged cheekily and she felt as well as heard the growl that rumbled in his chest. 

Suddenly, his hand was around her throat and he manhandled her so she was facing him. There was something so hormone inducing about how tall and imposing he was as he loomed over her like this. His large hand applying light pressure to the sides of her neck as his amber eyes burned into her. 

“What happened to bein' my good girl?” He asked darkly. She fluttered her lashes up at him, a coy smirk toying on her lips. 

“Maybe I should be punished…” she grinned. She wasn't quite sure what was coming over her. He just had something about him that allowed her freedom to just let go of her inhibitions and be herself. To try things she'd always wanted to. His eyes seemed to light up at her words, a devilish smirk sprawling on his handsome face. 

“Clothes off,” he ordered and his tone made her knickers damp instantly. 

“Yes, sir,” she answered with a sweet smile and she didn't miss how his breathing hitched. 

She made quick work of getting her clothes off, not shy in front of him knowing how much he seemed to like her body. He licked his lower lip as he stared at her with rapt attention, eyes hungrily watching her as she slid her knickers off, leaving her bare for him. He stepped towards her and she craned her neck up to look at him. His hand came up to her stomach, fingers sliding up the skin there. 

“You're so beautiful, love,” he murmured as his fingers delicately danced across her skin. She flushed profusely, biting her lip to stifle the stupid smile that was threatening to break free. He leaned down as if to kiss her and she felt her heart flutter as she waited, but his lips didn't connect with hers. As she prepared for the kiss, he moved away and caused her to whine. He chuckled at her, sauntering over to the bed and sitting on the edge of it. 

“Over the knee, sweetheart,” he demanded, raising a brow as if asking her to act up. She didn't though. 

She was a good girl for him now as she padded over to him. She’d never done this before and she felt her heart skyrocket as she lay over his knees, presenting her arse to him. There was a sense of embarrassment at the position she found herself in and she let her head hang as she felt the blush sweep up her body. 

“You're gonna count for me. You'll get three,” he told her and she nodded obediently. A sharp sting bloomed on her right arse cheek and she yelped, her body pressing into his legs further. It was a strange pain that gave her a rush that went right between her legs. 

“One,” she murmured shakily as she prepared for the next one. The sting bit into her a little more this time and she was sure she'd have a nice mark to remember this by. The thought only made her more wet. 

“Two,” she called out, squirming a little. She was getting uncomfortable now, between her thighs was so slick. She was desperate for some friction. The last slap hurt the most and she let out a pained moan, rocking her hips against his legs. 

“Three,” she whispered, her whole body feeling like it was on fire. His hand smoothed over the sore patch, soothing the burn as he rubbed it softly. 

“Such a good girl, Charlotte,” he purred as his hand slid from her arse cheek to between her thighs. She parted them for him eagerly and he chuckled, sinking two fingers into her with a moan that mixed with hers. The instant relief she felt was immense and she pressed back against his fingers. 

“Needy girl,” he chided smugly as he started to fuck her hard with his fingers. She gasped, her hips moving on their own accord as she felt an orgasm fast approaching. She felt the tingles starting, her stomach tightening. Her moans got higher as her body shook but then his fingers slid out of her and she almost sobbed. 

“Simon, please,” she whined pitifully but it only served to make him laugh darkly. He picked her up, manoeuvring her on her hands and knees on the bed. 

“Stay there,” he said roughly and she turned her head to watch as he tugged the rest of his clothes off. He helped himself to the condoms in the drawer, putting one on himself. A small voice in the back of her head was telling her to ask him not to use one but she ignored it for now. She was leaning on her forearms, arse up and waiting for him. They hadn't done it like this yet and her stomach was going nuts as she waited. 

He let out a soft hum as he climbed on the bed behind her, his hands smoothing up her arse cheeks to her back before going back down. Her arse wiggled impatiently and she whined when she felt him rubbing his cock through her soaked folds. He pushed into her slowly with a groan and she moaned softly, pressing her head into the bed as she revelled in the delightful stretch. He filled her up so good, hit spots of her she didn't know were there. 

“Remember the safe word?” He asked, his thumbs rubbing circles into her skin where he held her hips. 

“Donuts,” she answered and it clearly pleased him because that was the only warning she got. He set a punishing rhythm with his thrusts and her moans were loud and needy. He was pounding into her like an animal, her bed slapping against the wall hard. She'd never been taken so roughly before and her body was delighting in it as she just held on for dear life. 

“Fuck… feel so fuckin' good,” he growled before he grabbed a fistful of her hair. She let out a mix of a yell and a moan when he used his grip to pull her up, sitting with her back against his chest. Her scalp burned but in the best way and the new angle felt like he was going even deeper. His hand left her hair, her body bouncing as he fucked up into her like a man possessed. 

One hand found her clit and her body bucked wildly at the stimulation, the other hand gripped her throat and he applied more pressure than he'd done before. Her body was spasming like crazy as her brain started to get fuzzy and warm, but then he let go of his grip and she got a head rush that only intensified the pleasure she was feeling. She felt high almost and could do little else but allow him to do what he wanted with her. He kept applying pressure to her neck before releasing, keeping her brain in a blissful state. 

Her orgasm hit her quickly as she let out a desperate moan as her hand clutched the wrist that was near her throat. She was chanting incoherently, not even knowing what she was babbling as her fuzzy brain prolonged her orgasm. She just about registered him moaning wantonly down her ear as his hips stuttered, giving her a few more rough thrusts before he stilled. She slumped against him and his thumb stroked her throat softly. 

She stayed seated on him as she caught her breath and melted into him when his spare hand splayed on her stomach. She enjoyed the closeness after all the rough and she slowly felt herself come down from her high. She felt exhausted now, suddenly completely drained. She allowed him to move her to lay down on her back. He didn't join her right away, she presumed he was getting rid of the condom. When he slid into bed next to her, he scooped her into his arms so she was pressed against his side as he wound his arms around her. 

“Alright, love?” He asked carefully. She smiled to herself at him checking in with her as she snuggled even closer to him.

“More than alright. That was amazing,” she murmured shyly. She felt him press a kiss to her head, his arm tightening around her. When she moved her head to look at him, he gave her a soft little smile that he seemed to save just for her. 

“Glad you liked it,” he replied, stroking her cheek sweetly before he leaned in. His lips caressed hers slowly and she once again found herself melting into him. She couldn't help the smile when she broke away. She was always smiling around him it seemed. She lay her head on his chest and he adjusted his arms around her as her eyes started to flutter closed, tiredness taking her in its grasp. 

“I'm happy I get to try things with you,” she murmured tiredly into his chest. She felt his fingers toying with her hair and she hummed softly. It felt so nice.  

“Me too, love. Get some good rest, yeah?” He said quietly. She nodded, too tired to talk as she nuzzled his chest and settled into him more. 

“Night, Simon,” she mumbled sleepily. 

“Night, Lottie,” he replied. That was the last thing she heard before she slipped off into a deep sleep. 

[sibyl-of-space]

what inspired the character designs in amadeus?

What a fun question! With the caveat that specific things can't be discussed without spoilers (and therefore won't be discussed), I'll try to talk about them to the best of my ability.

Amadeus:

I made the first sketches of his design so long ago I barely remember what the initial vibes were. I do remember that his long straight hair and rich boy vibes were kind of meant to be Lucius Malfoy-ish (Prisoner of Azkaban was a huge reason I initially became obsessed with werewolves, so that's where this inspiration came from. I don't want Amadeus to have anything to do with HP beyond this, for obvious reasons; but I should admit this influence).

As far as his actual clothing, Amadeus's weird shirt-coat thing is actually largely drawn from the cape I made for a DGS Sherlock Holmes cosplay. Hound of the Baskervilles is another huge inspiration for the game, and I find it way easier to draw clothes that I have made or worked with in some way, so I drew from that.

(this is the only photo I have easily on hand, lmao)

The pants for his full design are based off of pants I made for a Lloyd Irving cosplay, and the boots kind of are as well. So well, pretty much, cosplay gave me a ton of experience interpreting weird clothes into IRL fashion and making them, so now I get to do the opposite thing where I have a ton of weird clothes I've made that I can pull from when thinking about what characters might wear.

The most iconic part of his design, the arms, well... to put this in vague terms because of spoiler reasons: that was an example of the design actually being revised to fit plot details. It has resulted in a way cooler and more interesting design, but it wasn't originally there. I had to realize some plot things before I could reflect them in the design, and now the design would be unrecognizable without it.

Solea:

Solea went under drastic revision since my first version of her, because her character also underwent drastic revision and the OG design no longer felt like her. I wrote about this a little bit in a devlog, but in order to draw a hairstyle for her that I liked, I spent about 3 hours watching Black haircare videos on YouTube to get a feel for different typical styles for her hair texture and variations on those styles, and bookmarking the ones that felt like they had the right vibes. After that, I drew a mockup and sent it to a friend who has similar hair texture to Solea, and asked "does this hairstyle make sense?" and she said "yep!" so it was a go.

In terms of the rest of her design: I'm being intentionally vague here, but there are reasons she looks the way she does, and it took a lot of tweaking to get it to feel right. My favorite part is the ugly ass gardening gloves she's got on. Without those it still felt too Disney's Hercules-esque (especially the top half - her bottom half design fixes this somewhat, but you can't see it in the talksprite). But the big ugly functional gardening glove contrasting with her pretty flowing fabrics I think results in the right aesthetic for her.

The Witch:

It came to me in a dream.

OK, not really, what actually happened was I was thinking about Amadeus while lying in bed about to go to sleep, and for some reason imagined the witch who lives in his home now descending from the second floor banister looking like some abstract weird ass orange-red creature. It was one of those things where I was just like "that's weird as fuck. Kind of creepy. ...Let's do it." I remembered the head was circular with square "petals" protruding, and the bottom was kind of triangular, but since it was all made up in my head it wasn't that concrete. So when it came time to actually draw her, I drew from the stylized and very Shaped designs in Super Paper Mario, and tried to get it to feel close to the image in my head.

...It was only after coloring it that I realized it looks very, very Homestuck. This was probably a huge subconscious influence, but not for a second did I consciously consider it. If anything I think my initial daydream was inspired by an enemy from Final Fantasy VIII.

Anyway, hope this was somewhat interesting! Thanks for the ask!

[pbandjesse]

I hate how often my slow days make me feel guilty. I didn't do anything wrong! I was generally productive! I even made time to read today! This is why I have so many projects at any given time. Because without moving all the time I feel so much guilt. It sucks. I did have a nice day. But man. That guilt in the pit of my stomach is not fun.

I slept better last night but I woke up feeling all dried out. I sort of remember James leaving but I woke up to texts from them arriving at their conference. I would get little updates throughout the day. And would be pleased when they didn't stay for dinner and I got to spend the evening with them.

But for most of the day I just enjoyed my own company.

I got dressed and made the bed. I felt cute but I have three under the skin pimples all next to each other on my jaw and it hurts very much but I also couldn't stop touching the area all day which of course just made it feel worse. Two of them seems have calmed down now but the one is very sore still and sucks.

I tried not to focus on that though. I made the bed. And had cereal for breakfast. Which was fine. It's the mini stuff again but cinnamon toast crunch and honestly I think it would work as maybe a topping or a Krispy treat situation. But on its own I didn't love the texture.

I would spend the next hour or so working on my lesson plans for this summer. Because I'm the only one who looks at them for teaching purposes I just collected images and made supply lists. I am excited for the projects. And I think I have a good balance of ones that are going to take a lot of prep on my part and ones that will be fairly simple.

I felt good about my progress. And decided I would do a little cleaning. Vacuuming mostly. I went to get ice tea from the fridge and got frustrated by how messy it was and something had spilled in the door and was just. Grossed out but I also didn't know what everything in the jars and such were so I asked James to go through the fridge when they got home. We would do it together and wipe everything down and then I would feel better.

I decided I would go for a walk. It was pretty beautiful out. And so I packed up the new Patagonia mini crossbody Jess got me and put on my wool trench coat. And headed out.

I walked around the block. Enjoying my podcast. Taking pictures of flowers that shouldn't be blooming yet but I was still enjoying a nice day.

I went over to Walgreens to look around. Was proud of myself for not buying things. I almost got new eyeliner. It's the same one I wear every day but it was on sale but I also don't need a new one right now. Progress! Doing good! No shopping randomly! But then I started getting cramps in my stomach and legs. Like nauseous cramps. I tried to just power through but after a few minutes I decided I should go home.

I got back and would drink some water and it helped me feel a little better. I had a snack. And someone rang the door bell. They are collecting signatures to not build the new bike lane on eutaw. But I am for the bike lane so I wished her a good day and headed back upstairs.

Where I noticed that the sky was very dark. I checked my phone and it was saying no rain today. But the sky was getting darker by the moment. Then all of a sudden I get a thunderstorm warning on my screen. I opened the backdoor and watched the sky get dark and eventually just opened up. And it would rain for about a half hour. It was nice to see.

While this was all happening I was cleaning the sink and organizing the cabinets under the sink. Moving our shelf stable foods that we done eat a lot of have lot of extras of. Just to make some space in the upper cabinets.

I also finally made the jello I wanted when I was sick but never got. I don't remember the last time I made jello but it was great. I didn't have the exact egg molds I wanted Soni made it in silicon cupcake molds. And they smelled great. Love blue jello.

Once the rain stopped I was a little tired. I got into bed and spent the next couple hours reading my new book. It's for sure an ADHD read because it's literally all over the place with different inserts and codes and you are jumping around in time. It's great so far but even a short chapter takes a while to get through. But I am having fun. I hope it continues to be a good read.

It was around 5 by this time. I checked my phone that had been charging in the other side of the room. James left me know at 4 they were heading home. And so I had about an hour until they would be back.

So I waited. Sweetp came and cuddled with me on the couch. So needy. And then James was back!!

When James got back they told me all about their day. I had warmed up to pizza to share with them. And then we attacked the fridge.

We took everything out. I wiped everything down. I would hand things to James who would then decide if they were expired or good enough to eat. And we did a great job. I changed how the shelves were in the fridge and I'm really pleased. We have entirely to many sauces. But it's fine. I am happy with the work we did.

Next James would take down some of the puhtok boxes I had stored. It was very appreciated because they are heavy!!

We spent a lot of time cuddling on the couch. Watching dumb videos. Talking. Laughing. It has been a lovely night.

And now we are watching creepy videos and doing eye masks. Love my James so much.

Tomorrow I am going to puhtok for most of the day. And possibly going to do a background check but I may do that Thursday. We will see how my schedule works out.

I hope you all sleep well tonight. Take care of yourself. I love you! Goodnight!

[anonsally]

Ineptitude in the kitchen: Muffins

A friend gave me some Hachiya persimmons from her tree. That’s the kind that has to get super soft to be ripe and edible (you shouldn’t eat one until it feels sort of like a water balloon). Now, I don’t really like persimmons anyway--I prefer fruits to have a little bit of tartness to them--and there’s no way this kind of persimmon is going to be compatible with my texture issues, so I decided to make them into muffins.

As you can tell from the title of this post, it didn’t go very well.

I’ve never made persimmon muffins before. Also, I mostly haven’t baked things that require flour since Wife moved in with me, because she can’t have gluten. My cousin (who also doesn’t eat gluten) had mentioned that she just substitutes gluten-free flour in recipes and it works fine. So I bought some all-purpose 1:1 gluten-free flour that claimed to be usable that way. 

And maybe it would’ve normally worked fine. However, the baking soda had expired in early 2020. So I should have used more of it (or, better still, bought a new package of it). (Wife also mentioned afterwards that because of the lack of protein in gluten-free flour, maybe I needed to increase the number of eggs.) 

I scooped the goopy flesh out of the persimmons and pureed it, and mixed the dry ingredients (which included cinnamon and ginger), and Wife melted the butter and broke the eggs for me and we mixed everything together as instructed. We also added fresh cranberries, figuring that their tartness would help balance the sweetness, and also this would conveniently make a dent in the oversupply of cranberries from Thanksgiving. 

We filled the muffin tin and put it in the oven. The recipe said “bake for 15 mins until golden and risen and a skewer or toothpick inserted comes out clean”.

After 15 minutes, they had risen a little, but they completely failed the toothpick test, so I put them back in the oven for, I think, another 7 minutes.

At that point, they still didn’t really pass the toothpick test, so I left them in at least another 5 minutes, but probably closer to 10. So they’d definitely been in the oven about twice as long as the recipe said.

At that point, they were sort of golden, and toothpick came out with a few crumbs on it and I decided that was probably close enough.

Spoiler: it wasn’t.

After they’d cooled for about 30-40 minutes, we tasted them. The tops were delicious, but they were really completely uncooked on the inside. They likely hadn’t risen as much as they should’ve due to the old baking powder, which meant there wasn’t enough air inside to cook the batter.

Wife covered them in foil and we put them back in the oven at a lower temperature, for fully a half hour. 

(While they were in the oven, I took the uncooked bits of the ones we’d tasted, and fried them in a pan, flattening them to try to get them to cook all the way through. This took longer than you might expect, and they tasted okay but not fantastic.)

Then I took the foil off the ones in the oven and let them bake for another 20 minutes. 

At this point we are up to at least 1.5 hours of baking for a thing that should have been ready in 15 minutes. 

I took them out. The toothpick came out clean.

I let them cool. 

Wife tried another one. It was still uncooked on the inside. She ate the top of that one, and the tops of two others.

Meanwhile I put the rest back in the oven with some foil resting on top for some amount of time (forgot to turn on a timer).

And then another 10 minutes after that, without the foil. I suspect they have spent at least 2 hours in the oven, though not uninterruptedly.

The insides are still not cooked.

I give up.

The tops taste good, but this was a lot of effort put in for not very much edible output. 

Tomorrow this might feel more like a funny story, but right now I just feel like a failure.

[alln64games]

Doraemon 2: Nobita and the Temple of Light

JP release: 10th December 1998

PAL release: N/A

NA release: N/A

Developer: Epoch

Publisher: Epoch

Original Name: Doraemon 2: Nobita to Hikari no Shinden

N64 Magazine Score: 52%

While the first N64 Doraemon game was a 3D platformer, this is more like Goemon: a game with an overworld and dungeons, but the dungeons being more focused on platforming when compared to Zelda.

It starts off when Doraemon, the blue robot cat, and his friend when one of them (Nobita) messes with a strange crystal, breaks it and starts the process of the end of the world for a fantasy land, so they need to restore the crystal to fix their mess.

You can no longer change characters on the fly, instead you can only swap characters at certain points in the story. Due to this, the different abilities of each character are now completely removed, only having a very minor damage increase when using one weapon.

Jumping is extremely stiff. Once you jump, you have very little leeway over your movement, and the game’s camera often tries to “help” and makes you jump off in a completely different direction than our intention.

The overworld is also extremely bland, made up of empty spaces. The more top down camera view means you can never see much, either, so a lot of the time is spent looking at mostly a ground texture. Most of the overworld is a straightforward path, with only two instances where you need to jump over platforms, one near the start of the game, one near the end. There are also no enemies on the overworld.

This wouldn’t be to bad it it was just a simple hub world, but there’s an immense amount of padding on the overworld, and you’ll spend hours and hours walking back and forth. I’ll use the path to the second dungeon as an example.

You walk from the first village down past a few empty areas and find a broken ladder. If you’re not here on the right day, you’ll need to return to the village and sleep until a “tree day” and go back, some mushrooms are slightly bigger and you can jump up. You get to the entrance to the second village and your path is blocked, you have to get an item from right next to him to proceed.

In the village, you speak to the elder and he’ll tell you the path is blocked, you have to go down this path to see it for yourself (it won’t trigger the right dialogue later on if you don’t) and you’ll see tornadoes blocking your path (and likely guess that “wind day” is the answer, but it won’t work…yet). Return to the village and speak to three people in the right order. The last one is ill and her friend has gone looking for the herb.

Backtrack half way to the first village. He forgot the key to the maze containing the herb, you’ll be warped back to the village. Speak to the elder and backtrack back to the maze, get the herb and return to the village. She’ll tell you that a kite will show the correct day. Find the kite and it’s broken. You’ll take control of a specific character and walk all the way back to just before the first village, you’ll find an item (that wasn’t there before).

As you walk back to the second village, a cutscene will happen and you’ll be stuck. You need to take control of another character and backtrack again to fix something, and then walk back to the village and fix the kite. Now some shoes will spawn in a house that make you run faster (I double checked with speedruns, nobody gets them until this point) and you can wait for “wind day” and get past.

You then get to do another very basic maze before you get to the second dungeon. The dungeons let you use weapons and have some more platforming sections. They’re also very short and linear, with a couple of side corridors for keys. None of the three dungeons have interesting layouts or styles.

And, yes, three dungeons. While the overworld is lots of walking back and forth for hours and hours, the dungeons don’t add up to an hour combined. It’s a very short game, with almost all of it padding. To add extra insult, you get a fast travel item inside the final dungeon.

If you really want to, you can aimlessly walk around the overworld some more to get extra items that don’t help you in any way. Very few of these are hidden, most are in water that are visible and just inaccessible until you get the swim item (also inside the final dungeon). But at that point, you’re right by the final boss.

There are parts of a fourth dungeon in the game’s files, but it was not finished in time, so it’s straight from the third dungeon to the final boss, a large obelisk. This is a dull, tedious game where almost all of it consists of walking back and forth across empty maps with nothing to do along the way.

And, although you can rotate the camera, and move to a limited first-person view, the default view never quite lets you see enough of your surroundings, meaning that it’s frustratingly hard to know where to go, relying on objects you’ve already passed as landmarks. Which is less than great.

- Jes Bickham, N64 Magazine #26

Remake or Remaster?

There isn’t much reason to play this game.

Official ways to get the game.

There is no official way to get Doraemon 2

[rogesims]

Family Business

After homework, Kyara indulged in a couple hours of Party Frenzy before going to bed!

And since Justin has already reached the top of the Culinary Career, he decided to move on and buy his own restaurant! Luckily, the sushi bar down the Garzas street was up for sale. The inauguration was an instant success!

Everyone who came was mesmerized by the flavors, the textures, the presentation! The whole menu was a splendorous tribute to Komorebese cuisine.

At the end of the shift plumbing OCTAVIA MOON went through the door. Justin tended to the songwriter himself to ensure she'd have the best service! She wasn't accompanied by her husband Thorne Bailey, though...

Justin's fame as a Master Chef paid off and Sakura Scent reached three and a half stars in a single day open! Justin was also able to hire a second waiter, but there's some stuff to work on if he wants it to become a 5-star venue...

During dinner, Justin shared his new idea. "I think we need a personal touch to make our restaurant really sensational. Would you like to be our manager?" "Jay! Nothing would make me happier. Let's make it the best place to eat all around SimNation!"

Justin was really excited to share his dream with Jade! He found out he was a lot more ambitious than he thought he could. Jade sent her resignation letter by e-mail after dinner. She was gonna start managing and hosting Sakura Scent the next day!

Upstairs, Kyara put her tooth under the pillow for the Tooth Beary. She found 65 simoleons in its place in the morning!

On Saturday, Kyara went to the Akiyamas to spend the day with her friend Miki, while the senior Garzas got to work in the newly rebuilt Sakura Scent! The basement idea was cute but waiters spent too much time going up and down, so I opted to remake it as a single-floor thing.

TBH, it was 100% Carl who revived my fun with Dine Out. His mod that permits the household to work in the business is what I thought the Game Pack should be! The 'family owned' vibes are simply amazing.

[yundk]

(Click on the date to read full story). My trip to El Salvador started with our bus breaking down an hour after leaving the bus terminal in San Pedro Sula, Honduras, where I had just spent the past three weeks reuniting with my Honduran family. Like old times, we trained intensely together, giving each other our all to pin, choke, and submit one another, and ending our grueling sessions with a well deserved, so bad it’s so good, hefty Honduran late night meal. After a year and a half away, it was heartening to rekindle old friendships and spark new ones. Their assurances that I will be part of their family forever and that I will always be welcomed to Honduras with open arms and homes was no exaggeration. I can’t thank them enough.

Returning back to our broken down bus; the passengers onboard with me were surprisingly nonchalant about the whole situation. The mood was light, as we held a collective breath of anticipation and hope for each time the driver came back to his seat from the back of the bus with his tools and again attempted to send power to the engine. Again and again, the engine roared for a few seconds, sputtered to a whimper, then gave out. We looked at each other, releasing the tension with a big sigh and chuckling and joking with each other. We may have been stuck in the middle of the road, with 7 hours of driving still ahead of us, but our mood was lighthearted.

Finally, another bus from the same company, this time a small van as opposed to an actual bus we initially boarded, picked us up, and we all crammed into its 12 or 15 passenger seat. I’ve been in so many buses that were packed like this, so it was just another day in the office. Many hours later, we arrived in San Salvador, but not at the terminal that I was expecting. The driver told me that because of the breakdown, they were way behind schedule and this is now where the destination is. No use arguing. I was quite away from the hostel I was planning to stay at, and a taxi would cost $5, an extravagance I wasn’t willing to make. Besides, I never take the taxi; I always take the bus and try to experience to city like the locals. Except, I like to do my research first and be well acquainted with how the city’s transit system works so that I can fake it till I make it as a local commuter. Guess that’s not happening; let’s go run with the wolves. I asked around for which bus leads to a park where my hostel was nearby, and I eventually found it. I boarded, was asked to pay the fare of $.25, and not having any smaller bills, I gave the driver a $10. I learned quickly that nobody pays the bus fare with $10. He was not going to make change, and he waved me away to sit down. I sat down next to a young woman who had witnessed the entire event, and she handed a quarter, along with a gentle advice, be careful with your money. Before getting off her stop, she asked me if I knew where I was going. Letting my guard down, which is something I rarely do when traveling, I replied that truthfully, not really. She turned to an old lady who she had been conversing with and told me that this lady would let me know when I should get off. Before leaving, she handed me another quarter just in case. Surely, the old lady, who in a few weeks would be going on her yearly trip to Dallas to visit family, made sure that I got off on the correct stop and wished me safe travels. I wish I can tell them both now that I’m okay and that I’m actually much better at taking public transportation.

Later that night, I again took the bus to a spot that Larra and Guato, friends from Honduras, told me about. This restaurant put a spin on the traditional, ubiquitous, yet still never gets old, pupusas. Their speciality was the pupusas ahogadas, which was essentially pupusas smothered in tomato or cream sauce with an additional layer of melted cheese on top. It definitely was flavorful, but I felt that it took away the essence of the texture and flavor that come together in the simple package of a traditional pupusa. Nevertheless, among my biggest driving factors for traveling is trying new food, so my trip was off to a great start. I ended my night walking around this neighborhood of Antigua Cuscatlan, enjoying the festive lights that lined the streets, trees, and church of the central park with a warm cup of atole, before taking the bus back to my hostel.

The next morning, I took a free walking tour of San Salvador. Josue, my tour guide, was a young student with an ambition to learn five languages and marry the gringa of his dreams in a few years, a currently underage girl from Dallas who he met while volunteering as an interpreter. We walked around the city as he pointed out various landmarks and explained to me the history that lie underneath each building and monument. He had high remarks for his country’s current president, Nayib Bukele, and admired his savvy use of Twitter and his determined effort to strengthen El Salvador’s economy by capitalizing foreign investment. I asked him from which country he sees most of the tourists, and I found it interesting that he said Germany, because in Honduras I’ve come across several places that proudly emblazoned their flag alongside Germany’s. It’s time I do my research into Germany’s involvement in the history of Central America.

I arrived in Santa Ana midway, checked into my hostel, and proceeded to do my routine wandering about. Although Santa Ana is the second biggest city after San Salvador, the difference between the two cities was vast. The latter felt hyper-industrial, very gritty, I imagine how some of the big American cities like New York and Chicago were a century ago, while the former retained many of the colonial layout and ambience with its small, narrow streets and cobblestone walkways. Although the streets were remarkably dark for a lack of street lights, I did not feel as unsafe as I probably should have, as I’ve come to associate colonial towns with small town tranquility.

The next morning, I climbed the popular Volcan Ilamatepec, or the Santa Ana Volcano, and witnessed its picturesque, turquoise blue crater lake with its slight whiff of sulfur. I took my mandatory Instagram-worthy shots and descended down the rocky trail, for me the worst part of hiking due to my recurrence for twisting my ankle, which did happen a few times, and got lost along the way. I had to back-track up the mountain for a good ten minutes until thankfully I was able to spot another group of people making their way down. A part of me relished in the adventure of it all, while another, growing by the minute, was like, “Wait, I’m actually lost.” It was livening for sure. When I got back to town, I took a bus to the MetroCenter, where I was hoping to find a mounting accessory for my GoPro. I didn’t find anything, so I returned to the place where I got dropped off and got on the return bus, or so I thought. I had actually taken a bus to a whole different neighborhood, and as we traversed the unlit roads, I stayed on the bus passing each stop, while fellow passengers left one by one. I assumed that the bus must return to the stop where I got on, however long that takes, but I felt that it was a guarantee that I could return home. It was another adventure, to see a part of the city that I would never have seen, and to see the final bus station terminal, which was amusingly located smack in the middle of a residential neighborhood, running out of what any other way would look like a regular house. At this terminal, the bus driver directed me to a bus that would take me close to my hostel. I got off at my stop, correctly this time, and finally arrived at my hostel after many unforeseen detours.

On a bus that exemplified the saying of ‘packed like sardines,’ somehow fitting in a few more people at a time when I thought it would be impossible, I set off for Juayua, a starting point for many who want to traverse the Ruta de Las Flores, a scenic route through several small towns along a highway that is adorned with blossoming flowers during the blooming season. I was thrilled to visit Juayua, mostly for its gastronomic festival that it holds every weekend. There, apparently I would be able to find a slew of traditional fare along with exotic meats, including rabbit, iguana, snake, and armadillo, and I wanted to try them all. Turns out that years ago, the sale of iguana and snake was banned due to their endangered status, but I was able to find rabbit on the menu. With my plate of grilled rabbit and accompanying sides, I relished the simple happiness of sitting in the park on a beautiful Saturday, listening to live opera and being surrounded by the chatter and laughter of families.

After my hearty meal, I made my way over to the neighboring town of Concepción de Ataco. This community that is part of the Ruta de Las Flores is known for its colorful murals that line its walls all throughout the streets. Residences, stores, hospitals, municipal buildings, churches, any surface wall, is proudly used as a canvas to illuminate the town with scenic portraits of history, culture, and the daily living of rustic El Salvador. I even came across a mural of two couples in traditional garb, one of El Salvador and the other of Korea. I was overjoyed to see that in this remote town of a country that most Koreans do not know of, or if they do, that they fear, there has been some significant cultural exchange to merit a lasting emblem on the landscape of the city. Coincidentally, I also met a pair of Korean police officers who were on an assignment in El Salvador to train the Salvadoran police force on the Korean police force’s systems and protocols, and ultimately build a collaborative relationship with the Central American armed and civil forces. They were wearing dark sunglasses, and I didn’t know that they were Korean until I asked a Salvadoran police escort if I was on the right path to a lookout point trail and he asked me where I was from. We continued to roam the town together for some time, elated from this unexpected chance meeting of fellow country-people, until we parted ways. In the central town square, I stumbled upon their yearly celebration to commence the holidays and lingered there for the next couple of hours, enthralled by the festivities of glamorous dancing and eccentric costumes, middled in with the blaring horns of corporate sponsors. At the food fair, I discovered a stall of exotic food and the iguana which ever since I came to Honduras was curious to try. The last bus was supposed to leave within the hour, so I asked for my plate to-go, and caught the bus soon before it departed from this town that continued to celebrate well into the night.

Back in Juayua, I woke up early in the morning to do the seven waterfalls hike with Elmer. The tour is offered by the hostel but only if at least two people signed up. I was the only one, but the friendly Nicaraguan staff was able to hook me up under the table. Elmer and I, accompanied by the hostel dog and her neighborhood friends who one-by-one tagged along the way, embarked on an exhilarating hike through majestic waterfalls, ultimately rappelling down one mountainside with a rope tied to a tree. Even after seeing one after another, each waterfall remarkably continued to impress me, all of them with a distinctive contour that would scatter the crystalline water across town from a single source. The hike took us two and a half hours, a significant cut from the usual four to six hour trip that Elmer is accustomed to with other groups. While taking into account that it was just us two, we noted the excellent physical condition that we were both in, and we bonded over our pursuit of proper exercise and nutrition as well as our distaste of white people who would not recognize the history of colonization and the lasting terror that it has left on communities around the world.

Upon our return to Juayua, I decided to walk to Saltoatitán the next town over on the Ruta de Las Flores, a semi-hike uphill on the highway for roughly forty minutes. Honestly, I didn’t find it as scenic as it is pictured to be, with a bouquet of flowers here and there sprinkling the large hedge bushes lining the highway. I arrived at the hostel I found online, which was actually like an AirBnb, an upstairs room in someone’s house that also becomes a restaurant at night, and settled in after assuring the owner that the room was fine just the way it is; the owner hadn’t been expecting a guest and was using the room as a storage for a few household items. After washing up from the wet, grimy hike of earlier morning and the drier, balmy hike soon after, I walked over to the market center to try the famed yuca con chicharrón that the town was known for. Being Sunday, the square was bustling with energy, with live music taking over the town space and families gathered together around the food stalls with heaps of yuca and chicharrón on huge plantain leaves in front of them. It certainly was appetizing, and I spent the rest of the day enjoying the regional delicacies of home cooked pastry candies and yuca doughnuts and chilate, the indigenous dish of gallo de chicha at a higher-end restaurant, and ending the night with a pizza sized yuca pupusa from the kitchen downstairs my room.

After a morning coffee with the host’s husband, I visited the town of Nahizalco, a pueblo with deep indigenous roots that continue to be one of the strongholds of indigenous culture and identity in the country. Their pride and history of hard-fought, bloody, and painful resistance against the colonizers was on full display throughout the town, on their murals, in their museums, exhibited by their handcrafts, and paraded by their traditional garbs. I did my shopping of fruits and vegetables and food stuff at their principal market, and more than once received an amused glance along with a greeting smile that welcomed my sharing in their daily lives. I took my groceries back to Salcoatitón on the back of a pickup truck converted into a passenger transport, fully equipped with a tent and handrails, and savored in the breeze of speeding down the highway. I sat in the shades at the park, enjoying the treats that I had just bought, marveling at how tranquil the town has become after yesterday’s buzz of activity. I took in this moment of peace before heading off to El Tunco. The bus that would take me to this party, backpacker central beach town was trying to warm me up for this change of atmosphere; all throughout the journey, it blasted pop and reggae music, together with bumping bass lights, so loud that it was hard to hear my own thoughts. I checked into a shabby hostel, where it was evident that the motto surf is life took priority. After striking up a conversation with a Salvadoran working there, who I actually thought was a gringo from his wholly surfer boy appearance, I agreed to take surfing lessons from him for a reduced price. The next morning, we set out to ride the waves, or at least I tried to. Truthfully, the lesson part was minimal, and it was more like keep trying until you eventually get it. I did keep trying, and over the hour-and-half, I managed to stand up a big zero times. It was infinitely harder than I had first imagined. We took a break, and I went to La Libertad, the nearby port city, where I walked through the pier along rows of freshly caught marine life of all shapes and sizes and smells. Fishing here was the livelihood of this town, and the fishermen in their hustle and bustle paid me no mind as I stared in wonder at their dexterity in cleaving and gutting one fish, eel, or stingray after another. Later in the afternoon, I returned to the beach with my surf instructor, this time finding ourselves in stronger waves, but we gave it a go, and finally, I was able to stand up, although just once, before falling off mere seconds later. I know that everything takes practice, so the next morning, I rented a surfboard, a longboard this time, which is more beginner friendly, and set off to practice on my own. After more than three hours of toppling over, swallowing and inhaling ocean water, with just one barely successful attempt at standing up for a couple of seconds, I decided to call it a day and packed my bags to shuttle over to Leon. Leon would be a much more forgiving destination.

I was much better at sandboarding down a volcano. I did fall a few times, but I was able to stay on my feet long enough to gather enough speed to instill in me enough fear to make me want to fall on purpose to slow down. I was the only one in my group who decided to hop on a board rather than the customary sled, and I am so glad that I did so. Not only did it look more impressive for the photo op, albeit speeding down the volcanic gravel in an oversized yellow jumpsuit but at least it was standing on a board, it also required a level of finesse and technique to maneuver the board and along with that came a sense of accomplishment. For me, it did live up to the hype, but I don’t think I would have enjoyed it as much if I had elected to do the standard sledding down the volcano. Upon returning to Leon and washing off the ash and soot streaking my face and body from my tumble down a volcano, I went on a dark history tour of the city led by Said, a native who uses the proceeds from the tour to buy seeds and fledgling trees to plant with students in nearby communities. Coupled with an open bar of rum in an old, abandoned fortress, he took us on a journey down the history of Nicaragua, from the early childhood of the now legendary Sandino to the present day and situation that Nicaragua and its people now live in. On the grounds of the fortress where we stood, two hundred men, incriminated by the paranoid US imperialist controlled state, were beheaded and pushed off the cliff. There was never a proper burial. Over this somber history, we took in the sunset, the unrestrained dark, and a lot of rum, one of us too much. She definitely was not the drinking type and became heavily uninhibited, cutting our stay short to return back to the city as fast as possible through the bumpy, dirt road, all throughout hoping that she won’t vomit. Fortunately, she didn’t, and we were able to successfully make it back to her hostel and end the night without anyone getting hurt.

I quickly fell in love with the city of Leon. Its history as a base of revolutionary, freedom fighters, its people living their daily lives without catering to the growing presence of tourists, its lively streets that spill activity into the night. Also, a girl of Leon captured my heart, which happens rarely. We met on top of the Cathedral of Leon, she, volunteering there, making sure that visitors don’t break any rules and that they take off their shoes at the indicated zone, me, asking her a question about the water ducts. We started talking, and she kind of became my personal tour guide, taking me around the cathedral and telling me so many histories that I now don’t even remember. I found out that she was studying tourism in university and eventually wants to become an actual tour guide but always gets super nervous talking to people. We hit it off, chatting until the visiting hours came to a close and on that day, her mom and little sister had come to pick her up. I would’ve loved to prolong this barely hour-long chapter of my life, but this is where the story ends.

On the morning before I was leaving for Estelí, I walked across town to Sutiaba, the neighborhood of Leon that supposedly had a strong indigenous community presence. Honestly, I didn’t see much, and there was not much going on, so I walked back, stopped at a barbershop along the way, and had my first bad haircut in Central America. It wasn’t a terrible cut, the barber had just missed a spot that later I had to go back for, but I’ve learned to have high standards for barbershops in these countries, because they are talented with their fades. At only two to three dollars a cut, I would get myself a touch-up every couple of weeks, and while I’m here, that’s what I’ll do.

I arrived in Estelí a couple of hours after sunset. The 45-minute walk to my hostel led me to an ice cream shop, where the employee notified me that the hostel had closed months ago and didn’t know if and where they moved to. Fortunately, there was another hostel a few blocks away, and this one was in business. I met again a Dutch couple with whom I had just ridden the bus to here and several other backpackers at this base for international travelers in this otherwise traditional, country town. Estelí, located in the northern province of Nicaragua among the mountains, is known for its cooler climate, coffee, tobacco, leather, and cowboys. I would experience that later, as the city was celebrating their anniversary that weekend, and they brought out their best cowboys, hats, belts, boots, and steeds, and those horses showcased their best trots and steps to the beat of the rancho music. They delivered quite a spectacle and scared me more than once when they spun, loped backwards, and I was facing their hind legs. Fortunately, the horses never kicked, and I’m sure the riders had them under control.

Farther up north from Estelí, near the border of Honduras, lies Somoto Canyon, where Río Comali from Honduras meets Río Tapacalí of Nicaragua and converges to form Río Coco, the largest river that runs through Central America. I took an early morning bus to the town of Somoto, where I met my guide, Orvin, who grew up in these canyons and makes a living in agriculture and with these tours. Our trek took us through scenes of an adventure movie, through an expedition of swimming across the canyons of Somoto, surrounded by cliffs of 150 meters high on both sides and the mountains of Northern Nicaragua. We passed by bat caves, cows and bulls foraging the terrain and cooling off in the river, and we took exhilarating and refreshing jumps into the deep emerald pools from 12 meters high. Over the past two weeks, my trip had taken me to spectacular sights and stunning encounters with nature, and so far, this canyoning experience has impressed me the most.

After this incredible trip, I bussed down to Granada, spent a quick night there, and ferried over to Isla de Ometepe, an island made up of two volcanoes connected by a strip of land in the middle. This apparently makes the island take the shape of the number eight, or the infinity symbol. I’m not much of an island person, but seeing how Ometepe is consistently on the must-do list of all Nicaraguan travel guides and I wanted to climb Volcano Concepción, I decided to spend a few days there. The first night, I stayed at the port city, Moyogalpa, the launching point for the Concepción hike. Our hike started at six o’clock in the morning and would be a 2,300 meter climb up to the crater of the active volcano. The crater is perpetually covered in a pack of clouds, and as we approached within several hundred meters of the peak, we were literally walking through clouds and could only see 10 to 20 meters in front of us. Although there was not much of a view towards down below, neither much uphill, the immediate view surrounding us, silhouettes in the distance shrouded by the misty fog, nonetheless made a dramatic scene. We finished the hike in around 7 hours, and I didn’t think it was difficult at all. We actually did it a lot quicker than the usual 9 to 11 hours that it takes most people, most likely because our group consisted of a couple from Germany who was biking from Mexico to Costa Rica, another from China who started in Los Angeles and is biking downwards the Americas, the tour guides, and me. The tour guide, who used to be a sergeant in the military and competed in a few boxing bouts himself, realized why I was not getting tired upon finding out about my background as a boxer. We talked boxing training and regimen, history of Nicaraguan and Korean fighters, the ladies of course, and how the Nicaraguan government is supposedly investing in opening a state-of-the-art boxing gym facility on the island. He wants his son to learn boxing and suggested that I work at the island as a coach and stay at his home for accommodation. I’ve met many families throughout my travels offering to host me whenever I come through their town, and I never know how serious they are, but thinking about it, I’m positive that they were all being genuine. I would also happily host a friend that I make in another part of the world if they ever come to Los Angeles. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live in Ometepe for a long duration of time, because as I said, I’m not an island person, but if I ever see Enoc again, I’d love to invite him to my home and coach his son.

I was dropped back off at my hostel, where I cleaned up and washed my clothes. Around half-an-hour after hanging my clothes to dry, it started to drizzle. Hours ago, we were sitting at the peak of the volcano, enveloped by clouds, its specs of mist clinging to our skin hairs, and the wind howling loud enough that at times it was hard to hear. I wondered what it would be like to be up there right now. In the midst of a storm? Or maybe it’s like a tornado, where it can be quite calm in the center as the outside rages on. Almost as quickly as it started, the rain came to a close. I walked to the bank to retrieve the Moneygram payment I had sent to myself after discovering that my ATM card could not be used overseas. I walked into the most empty bank I had ever been in Central America. There were no other clients except me and even the lighting was dim. I was in and out of the bank in 10 minutes, which was really nice after always spending more than an hour for a bank activity. Today would turn out to be a long day of walking, 42,000 steps according to my phone, as I walked another two hours to watch the sunset at Punta Jesus María, a thin strip of land stretching out like an arrow into Lago Nicaragua. Fortunately, on the way back, a group of tourists who had rented motorbikes offered to give me a ride back to the city. I can now say that I hitchhiked on a motorbike.

The next morning, I caught the bus to Balgüe, the other side of the island. I rented a pedal bike and began exploring in what is probably my favorite way to discover a new area, biking around. I passed by a kayak tour sign and decided on the spot to take a tour of Río Istián, an estuary that snakes through the swamp marshes of Ometepe. I also wanted to watch the sunset, so I agreed with the tour guide to head out a little later at 3pm. When I came back at our agreed upon time, his son brought out the oar, laid it down on my kayak, and walked off, while his dad lay on the bench underneath the shack of the kayak house. I stood around for a minute, waiting for his dad, but when his dad stayed lying down and resting, I went up to him. Picking up his head and turning toward me, he asked if there was a problem. I guess there was some misunderstanding but it appeared like he thought I would be heading out on my own, while I thought he would be accompanying me. I actually preferred what he was thinking, so I replied - no, am I good to head out now? - and paddled offshore. Minutes into the outing, I realized that he had not provided me with a lifejacket, but it didn’t bother me. I felt free, not just from the vest, but more importantly, for being able to carve my own route and journey. As I wanted, I watched the sunset on my kayak, after navigating to a middle point of the lake to place myself at a great vantage point. The sun had set when I started kayaking back to shore, and it dawned on me just how far I had wandered away from the island as the final glows of the sun melted into the darkness. For a good half an hour, I was rowing in the ominous dark, fighting forceful currents that once in a while felt like would capsize my kayak. Despite this, I didn’t feel anxiety or fear, just the will to reach home and get warm. Just as I was approaching the shore, I saw that the tour guide had ridden out on his kayak and was about to search for me, thinking that I was lost in the open waters. He scolded me for coming back so late and for venturing out so far away from shore; I was supposed to stick along the coast and follow the riverbanks, not roam away to the middle of the lake where the sharks are. Until then, I didn’t even know that there were sharks in the lake and when I later did research to check if it he was telling the truth or BSing me to scare me, I found out that it was indeed true. There were bull sharks in the lake, the kind of the sharks that are most common in shark attack incidents. I’m glad that I didn’t know that fact before, because I had kayaked back with confidence and determination, paddling my oars in the dark waters without a worry in the world.

Somewhere along the way back to my hostel, I lost the bike lock key. I woke up extra early in the morning to backtrack my ride to the best of my ability, but I was more or less guessing which side of the lane I was on during different sections of the irregularly paved and unpaved, rocky roads. For more than an hour, I searched intently over the surface, among the rubble, and within the crevices, but I wasn’t successful in finding the key, so I chalked it up as a loss and returned to the hippy, chocolate paradise hostel and joined their morning yoga session. The physical concentration and mental relaxation proved valuable for my down spirits, because I had been stressing hard about the lost key. It had even taken the center stage in my dreams throughout the night. Fortunately, everything was resolved with an extremely simple solution: pay for a new lock that costs less than $3. After all the stressing and trouble I went through.

I only had a few more days left in Nicaragua before heading back home to the States, and I planned out my itinerary to spend those days in Granada, the colonial town that tourists especially love for its vibrant, colorful buildings, cobblestone streets, and old Spanish architecture, like pretty much all other colonial towns. In total, I spent five days there, the longest I’ve stayed at one place, and it was too long. In hindsight, I wish I spent another night or two in the other places I had visited, but I had felt that my time was limited and had moved on faster. It was not because I didn’t like the city. I did, although I admit that I liked the other cities better. I found them more unpretentious, while Granada felt to me like it was catering to tourists, which completely makes sense to do seeing how it is the most popular tourist destination in the country. But that, I feel, comes with it a cost to the soul of the city and its people, who must accommodate themselves to gratify those who do not have long-term roots in that community.

It’s not the case that I didn’t have a good experience in Granada. I totally did. It was just different from the rest of my traveling experiences; it was more comfortable, and considering that I was about to return home soon, where it is the king of comfort, I thought it was too soon. In Granada, I settled in Hostal Azul, where I bonded with a fun group of travelers. We ate breakfast together in the morning, dinner at night, had hour long conversations in the common area while lazily swaying in the hammocks, celebrated birthdays and went out dancing in the open, lively streets of the city, made tamales from scratch for Christmas. We found community in a place and time in our lives when we are called to a nomadic way of living. These connections make it hard to move on, and I know that this is something priceless that should be held onto and treasured. But, I think my haven is escape from commitment, and that’s what travel affords me. When I’m in travel mode, I don’t want to unwind for long; I want to be on the move, on my toes, stepping on new ground. There are moments when I wish I had a traveling companion, and the solitude can feel lonely at times, but that comes with the pains of solo travel. My heart is constantly at odds, one beat longing for the luxuries of home, the other yearning to break off and fly away.

[driftward]

Title: How Do You Do It Characters: Zoissette Vauban, Y'shtola Rhul Summary: A soft moment Notes: This drove me to ask for a commission from @eemamminy-art! And then the commission in turn influenced the work. Thank you again. :)

Zoissette was asleep on her stomach in bed, the night’s activities having spent her, and Y’shtola was now wiling away the late hours of the night. She was sitting on top of the Elezen, her legs straddled on either side of her torso, her hands following the shapes of her back. Fingertips dug in gently to the top of the shoulder while palms pressed against shoulder blades, and she pulled her hands slowly down, exploring the texture and shape of Zoissette’s muscle.

Y’shtola smiled softly at the back of Zoissette’s head. She loved the little moments like these, when Zoissette was fully asleep, and she was free to explore as she wanted. She loved the little moments like these, when Zoissette was soft to the touch, fully relaxed. She loved the little moments like these, when they could have them.

“How do you do it, Warrior of Light and Shadow?” whispered Y’shtola. Zoissette stirred at the sound, but did not wake. “Always at dusk’s start, my hands find you hard and unyielding. I touch you, and feel naught but a bundle of cable. Steel wire wrapped around iron core, tight enough to be fit for an harpists’ cord. And only after it is late can I find you like this. A pleasant softness, that only I get to enjoy.”

Y’shtola sat back a bit, and she felt something in her heart sink a bit, as it often did. “That you always carry such weight… I do not know that I could suffer it.”

Zoissette stirred more, now, and one of her eyes opened just a little, lazy and half-lidded, unfocused in the night. “….Shtola?” she murmured.

“I am here.”

“Efferythin okay?”

“Everything is as it should be.”

Zoissette made a ‘murf’ sound before speaking further. “Sorry… miss almos’ everythin’ you said…”

“Do not worry over much. I am merely musing to the night, nothing more.”

A moment passed, and Zoissette began to try to move. Y’shtola shifted to be out of the way, and Zoissette rolled onto her side.

Zoissette looked over at Y’shtola, coming a little more awake. Y’shtola stretched out next to her, resting her head on her hand, and just watched as her eyes became aware, watching, looking Y’shtola over.

Y’shtola smiled warmly over at her, even as Zoissette resettled on her side, a dreamy half-smile on her face, looking over at Y’shtola.

“Something on your mind?” asked Y’shtola.

“No. I just like looking at you.”

Y’shtola gave a small laugh. “It is well, then, that I enjoy your attentions.”

Zoissette sighed, happily. “I hope it is okay if I am too sleepy for more than that.”

“Quite alright.”

Zoissette slowly nodded, her eyelids already beginning to droop again. She held her arms open, inviting Y’shtola in, and Y’shtola gracefully accepted the invitation, tucking herself into the other woman, bringing herself close.

It was not long until arms and legs were intertwined, Y’shtola curled up close, feeling Zoissette’s warmth and finding it delightfully welcoming. Zoissette hugged her arms loosely around Y’shtola, holding her gently.

“Good night, Shtola.”

“Sleep well, Sette.”

Zoissette’s head drifted down to the pillow, and in minutes she was unconscious again, a soft smile on her face. And then came the soft buzzing noise she often made when she was deep in her sleep.

Y’shtola watched her face for a time, before curling her head down, and burying herself further into the other woman, her face in her chest and nuzzling her head up under her chin.

“Rest,” she whispered softly, before relaxing and closing her eyes.

(( A commission from the talented @eemamminy-art!, featuring my OC, Zoissette Vauban, and Y'shtola Rhul. Thank you!))

[beautiful-songbird]

Pretty Girl

Pairing: Idol!Taehyung x Model!OC

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: body insecurities...like a lot of them, and probably slightly suggestive? They directly mention sex at one point idk

Summary: Zelda's stuggling with liking herself again, and Tae makes it his personal mission to make her feel better. Cue twenty minutes of him just loving on her.

Some days, time seemed to tick by slowly when Zelda sat at home.  She was used to the crammed and busy hours of the modeling workday, so the single task of taking care of a household – or condo, in this case – was simply hard for her to get used to.  Dinner didn’t take all day to make, so what was she supposed to do with her time?  Most of the rest of the girls worked or were otherwise busy taking care of their own places, and in the case of Astrid, she still lived on the other side of the world.  So, what was Zelda to do with her time?

On top of all of this, she had two burdens hanging over her head.  She’d gained weight, which despite what Tae told her, she was still mightily insecure about because of how she’d been chastised for it before.  Despite this, she still wanted to model.  She missed modeling.  It fed some innate hunger in her for positive attention, and in the years she’d spent in the industry, she’d concluded that the only way to do that was through her looks.

It was silly, really.  She had lots of friends who adored her, but every time she made a new friend, she feared they’d leave her.  Even Tae.  She knew deep down that she’d found some real friends, but it had been a long time running that she’d been told she was too ‘odd’ to be friends with.  She’d tried to dial down her personality for a while, but she’d realized that felt worse than people telling her she was weird.  So, she was back to square one.  The fear of losing friends while simultaneously being unwilling to sacrifice herself.

On the bright side, clothes could always mend an aching heart.  For her, at least.  That didn’t really mean buying clothes, though.  It meant going to all the high-end stores and trying things on just because she could.  Of course, she could’ve bought them, but she’d always been a bit of a nitpick when it came to clothes she’d actually wear.  Sure, she’d model clothes of all sorts, but when it came to everyday life, there was a very small selection of things she felt comfortable in.

This only meant one thing – Tae’s phone was always pinging with new photos she’d taken in the dressing room.

“Hate the texture, but it’s pretty at least.

“I wouldn’t wear this out of the house, but maybe for you?” paired with a winking emoji.

“I might buy this one.  Pretty flowers, right?

“I think this one would look better on you, honestly.

“Date night?

“This one says I’m stealing your jacket by the end of the night.

“I hate sequins.  Hate.

“I think this one would look better over a swimsuit than as an actual dress?

“Again, stealing your jacket.

“What do you think of this one?”

Tae smiled after picking up his phone and scrolling through all the messages.

“You look pretty in all of them, sweetheart.  Are you going to buy any of them?”

“I bought four of them.  The price tag on the last one made me want to cry, but it was too pretty.”

“You shopping for that photoshoot we talked about doing?”

“Haha…no.  I got bored this afternoon.  I’m running out of time-consuming dishes to make.”

“I see.  We need to have a baby soon so you have less time on your hands.”

“Tae!”

“I’m kidding.  Unless…?

“I’m coming home in half an hour.  We have a date with my camera, ok?”

Zelda grinned at her phone.  He was so persistent.

“Ok.  See you then.”

◇◆◇◆◇

There was something different about being styled when your husband was the one pinching at your sides and setting his hands on your shoulders to turn you towards the mirror, but Zelda wasn’t sure what was so different about it.

“All right, what do you think?  Pretty enough to walk the runway?”

Zelda grinned at her reflection in the mirror. “Definitely.  I don’t recognize this dress, though?  Where did you get it?”

He shrugged, pulling his tie off as he walked towards their closet. “I bought it on my way home.  I thought I should pick something out for you to wear if we’re going to do an actual photoshoot.”

“Oh,” Zelda breathed before looking at herself in the mirror again.  The man had great taste.  It was a mostly white dress, and it was flowy in all the right places while still keeping her shape. “It covers my belly well.”

Tae popped his head out of the closet and looked over her frame. “You’re right.  It does.  I erred when picking that out, then.”

She laughed, a bit embarrassed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I think your stomach is cute.  I shouldn’t have bought something that hid it so well.”

He stated it as if it were something obvious, and then he went back to digging through their closet for his own outfit.

“Tae, I told you before that you don’t need to lie to me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s ok….”

“Of course, I don’t.  I’m not going to lie to you and say that I don’t like how soft your belly is.  I’m not going to say that you don’t make the best pillow and that I don’t enjoy just patting your stomach.  Didn’t you tell me once that you liked it better when I didn’t have abs?  So why should it be any different for me?”

She hummed. “I don’t know.  I just don’t particularly like the way I look, so I don’t see how you do either.”

He emerged from the closet a moment later, pulling his shirt on as he did so. “I find you very attractive.” He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head against hers. “Look at that pretty girl in the mirror.  Those pretty eyes.  This pretty nose,” he tapped her nose. “And these pretty lips.” He kissed her cheek, being in such a position that he couldn’t kiss her on the lips.  He poked her sides next. “And look at this pretty body.  I know girls who would love to have your body.  There’s something here for me to hold onto, too.” He squeezed her waist then. “What’s not to love?”

She smiled shyly at him. “I….”

“Sweetheart, I don’t understand what you don’t like here.”

She shrugged. “I dunno.  Everything?  My chest is too big, my hips are too wide.  You already know I don’t like my stomach.”

He leaned closer to her, this time nibbling on the shell of her ear. “And I’m sure you know how much I like that you’ve gained weight.  You weren’t eating enough before, sweetheart.  That’s why you were so tiny.  And that’s not good.  You know that, right?”

She nodded hesitantly, tears biting her eyes.

“Don’t you remember how bad you felt then?” He nuzzled his nose in her hair, doing his best to not sound like he was chastising her. “You were always crying.  You didn’t feel good, I know you didn’t.  Was that really worth it to have that body?”

“No,” she admitted quietly.  She was staring at the floor now as she played with her fingers. “I like how much better I feel now.”

“Mhm.  I bet you do.  Anything else you’ve noticed has changed?”

She shrugged. “I’m happier now.”

“Are you?”

She nodded. “Part of it is because I don’t feel so lonely anymore, but most of it is because I’m not starving all the time.”

“Do you enjoy that?”

“Yeah.”

“Another thing?”

She cleared her throat, still avoiding eye contact with him. “It hurts less to sit down.”

He chuckled quietly. “It hurt before?”

“Yeah.  I didn’t have enough cushioning….”

“Anything else?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“That’s ok.  Can I ask another thing?”

She glanced up at him in the mirror. “Yeah.”

“How do you feel about your looks now?”

She settled her eyes on her own figure this time, and she had to admit how warm inside it made her feel to have Tae cradling her against his chest, no matter how embarrassed she was that he had to have this conversation with her.

“I…can you talk about what you like again?”

“You name something you like first.”

“Um…I have pretty arms?”

He nodded, reaching up to squeeze one of said arms. “You do.”

“You say something now,” she requested quietly.

“Hmm…” his fingers ghosted over her body as they traveled up and down for a few moments.  Finally, he settled his fingers against her stomach and wiggled them ever so softly, making her squirm. “I still think your belly is so pretty.” He smiled. “Ok.  Your turn again.”

She settled her hands over his to keep him from tickling her again as she considered herself.

“My hair is nice.”

“Oh, it definitely is.” He buried his nose in her hair again. “Such pretty curls you have here.”

She giggled.

“I know you said you don’t like your chest…but I like it.” He lowered his voice. “A lot.”

She poked at his hands that were still settled around her waist. “You just like squishing me, don’t you?  I see your goal here.”

He grinned. “You caught me.  I like having a soft and squishy wife.” This prompted more waist squeezing from those fingers of his. “Ok.  You’ve gotta say something else you like now.”

She sighed. “Do I have to?”

“Zel….”

“Ok, ok, ok.  Fine.  Um.” She stared at herself for a long spell of time, this time taking notice of the things that Tae had pointed out.  She had to admit that while she didn’t like them, she did like how much he did.  It felt so right for him to enjoy those parts of her that she wasn’t even upset that they were there anymore.

She finally cleared her throat. “I like my eyes.”

He nodded, as if her observation had been the most obvious one in the world. “Another one now.”

She pouted. “You’re not going to say one?”

“Nope.  I need you to say another one first.”

She seemed slightly agitated by this, furrowing her eyebrows as she stared at herself again.  A few moments passed before she shook her head. “I don’t know, Tae.”

“Ok.  Just look at yourself as a whole.  You’re pretty, right?”

“I…am.” She reasoned finally. “Just…not as pretty as I feel like I should be.”

“What can we do to fix that?”

“Makeup…would help.”

“Would it?”

She nodded, feeling less insecure about her body now and more about her face.

“And after we fix that, will we need to fix something else?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know.  I…I don’t think I’m going to be 100% happy with myself by the end of the day no matter what we do, Tae.”

He hummed, resting his lips against the crown of her head. “How about we stop looking in the mirror for now, then?  We can head out and take some pictures, and I can do all the looking at you.”

She smiled softly. “Ok.  I think I’d like that.”

◇◆◇◆◇

She loved it even more than she’d expected to.  Tae, ever her hype man, was convinced that she looked absolutely stunning from every angle, and despite the fact that she knew she’d disagree with him once she saw the photos, she let his words make her feel good anyways.

Before they left, she’d insisted on taking a few of him, too.  He was always gorgeous, especially today with all the kind words he’d fed her heart.  Maybe she needed a little something to remind her someday of everything he’d said today.

“See, look at that one,” he grinned, showing her one of the photos he’d taken as they walked back to their car. “Stunning.  It’s a wonder how I got to marry someone so beautiful.”

And she had to admit…she absolutely glowed in the photo.  He’d been saying something to her when he’d taken the photo, she knew that much.  Whatever it had been, it had made her light up like the noonday sun.  She had the biggest grin on her face, and the lighting was doing her all sorts of favors.

Tae grabbed her hand and swung it as they walked along. “This is fun.  We should do this more often.” He glanced down at her. “I especially love having you as my muse.”

She smiled, her face flushing.  She didn’t even know what to say to everything he was saying today.  He was just full of sweet things to say today, and it was making her bones melt.  She knew how amazed he was that he’d gotten to marry her, but she felt even more privileged than he.

The compliments didn’t stop once they got home that evening.  They’d run out of time to make dinner, so the two of them sat on the couch eating takeout.  He’d insisted that she sit on his lap while they ate despite how this complicated things, and then the two of them had headed to their bedroom just to lounge around for the night.  The two of them had ended up in barely any clothes as they prepared for bed, and this led to even more compliments spilling from Tae’s lips.

“Look at this pretty tummy.” He buried his face against said tummy.

She giggled, rubbing her fingers over his scalp. “I love you, Tae.”

He grinned, turning to look up at her. “I love you too.” He patted her hip.

“You’re very touchy today.”

“Well, my wife is feeling insecure about her body, and I need to let her know that I think it is a very pretty body.”

“You think so?”

He gave an “mhm” that sounded more like a purr, making her giggle again. “What do you think about making a baby tonight?”

“I dunno, Tae…do we really need one of those right now?”

“I think so.  I’m looking forward to a miniature you running around our place.  We’ve gotta have someone to fill these bedrooms.”

She laughed. “I think the likelihood of any of our babies looking like me is very low.”

“Nah.  If we have enough of them, surely at least one of them will look like you.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“We won’t know until we try.”

This earned another laugh from her. “Do you actually want to make a baby, or do you just want to have sex?”

He clearly had already thought about this, because his answer was immediate. “Both.”

“I see how it is.”

The two of them were silent for a few moments before Zelda spoke again. “Thank you for today.  You made me feel a lot better.”

“Did I?”

“Mhm.  You made me feel very pretty today.  I haven’t felt that way in a long while.”

“Really?” he asked, frowning. “I need to compliment you more often, then.”

She shook her head. “It’s ok.  Today you just…it was so nice, Tae.  Thank you.”

He lifted his head off her stomach before climbing to the top of the bed so that he could lean over her.

“You know I always think you’re beautiful, right?”

She stared up at him. “I know.  You’ve made that very apparent, even if not with words.”

“Good.  I always want to make sure you know.  I married such a pretty girl; I can’t just let her forget how pretty she is.”

She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs over his cheekbones. “And I married the most darling man.” She was close to tears now. “You make me feel so adored, Tae.  Thank you.”

He grinned and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “You don’t need to thank me.  You’re so easy to adore.”

That was all it took to get the tears flowing. “Am I?”

“Definitely.  You’re the most adore-able person in the world.”

She grinned widely, trying to ignore the tears streaming down her temples.  He reached up and brushed one of those tears away before tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You’re so, so pretty.  I don’t know how someone didn’t snatch you up before me.”

“None of them were you,” she replied simply. “No one wanted me, but you did.  You wanted the grumpy girl who would barely talk to you.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “You were the one girl who didn’t put on a show for me.  You were just you, no matter who I was.”

She smiled, pulling him in for another kiss. “You wanna make that baby now?”

This is part of the Dad!BTS series that can be found here

A/N: and hence…Zoro was born. Ahahaha I spent like 98% of this fic melting into the carpet so excuse me while I go attempt to reform myself or however you treat melted candle wax.

It would be greatly appreciated if you reblogged the story if you liked it!

Taglist: @jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger @jinnie-forthe-winnie @thornedswan @kookstempo @fly-you-dam-fools @aianloveseven @armys-dna

[littlemissnoname13]

Leap Years & Forgotten Promises (S.B)

Summary: She leaves, He stays. Their last day spent together falls on the twenty-ninth of the second month and they make a promise to meet every four years, as the leap years come and go. Only, life has other plans.

Warnings: angst, some swearing. Please Note that they are still in school for the first half of the story so the story is majorly sfw. There is one mention of sex in the later half, when they are old enough. As always, read at your own discretion. (Not proofread!)

**the smaller fonts are their letters going back and forth**

Words: Almost 2000

A/n: I mostly only write for Draco but I’d been thinking about Sirius a lot in the last few days 😭 so I made an exception. I wrote this story in under an hour as a writing sprint exercise while working on two other fics. I wasn’t gonna post it Ah, what the hell.

Masterlist

February 29, 1976 Hogsmeade Village

He orders a simple cup of tea and she sips on her Butterbeer with a stripy straw, nodding at his every word.

He is saying something about a practical joke on Severus, and a map. Also, something about his cousin, Bellatrix. She can see his lips moving but the words seem unclear to her. Everything is a ringing white noise.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, setting aside his cup. He leans forward from across the table to observe her—worry creasing his perfectly arched brows.

“Nothing.” She lies, feigning a tight lipped smile.

Obviously, He doesn’t buy it. He just goes quiet for a second, continuously observing her nervous ticks. She is twirling her wand, fidgeting with the end of her tie. There is a poor serviette ripped to tiny shreds next to her.

“You just seem a bit disturbed today.” He says, placing his palm face down on top of hers.

She bites her tongue to keep it all inside but it comes out in an anxious sigh. “I don’t want to go back.”

“Come on. It can’t be that bad.” He shakes his head and gives her a reassuring smile. Dark strands of unkempt hair free falling on his face. “You probably miss your Aunt, and your normal life.”

“But I’m happy here.” She protests, removing her hand from underneath his. He too retreats and leans back against his chair, suddenly awkward.

“I don’t know, Sirius. I just—there is just something inside of me, telling me to stay put.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There is just this gut feeling. It’s like a chill in my bones, I keep waking up in cold sweat, I don’t know—but I wonder if something bad is going to happen. Am I going insane?” She lets out a semi hysterical laugh. “Please tell me I’m not going insane.”

He too goes stiff for a second and looks at her—the brightness in his eyes fading a little. He exhales deeply and gives her a pained look.

“You’re not going insane, believe me.” He goes on. “I know you’ll be back soon, but my mind is coaxing me to blurt out fucking parting remarks.”

She swallows hard.

They’d grown increasingly close over the last year. Bonding over their messy families and what not.

Just like her, he’d never truly belonged. Just like her, he was the black sheep, the prodigal offspring, the family disappointment.

The only difference?

If her muggle parents thought she was to be burnt to the stake for practicing witchcraft, his pure blood fanatic parents had erased every mark of him from their family tree.

Apparently like calls to like.

They are drawn to each other as if they are kindred spirits, twin souls, two halves of the same battered and broken whole.

One day, she gets condemned to detention with a trouble-making Gryfifndor, and the next moment they are sitting down by the lake, exchanging anecdotes of their shared trauma, juxtaposing the respective damage caused by said trauma.

They are screaming at the wind, laughing at the absurdity of it all, reaching for eachother till they are at arm's length.

She doesn’t remember who made the first move nor can she recall how it happened.

All she knows is the texture of his long dark hair that turns a shade lighter under the sun and how it feels fisted in her hands when he kisses her.

He kisses her often.

In between classes, tucked away behind alcoves blanketed in shadows. He curls up next to her in his animagus form and they sometimes fall asleep to vinyls playing Fleetwood Mac songs on repeat. He claims the best song from the record is you make loving fun and she agrees to disagree.

He never goes so far as to explain what is going on and she doesn’t bother to ask him.

Sometimes, he writes to her in the middle of the night and the letters appear on the pages of a special diary disguised as a copy of Ariel by Sylvia Plath. Sirius owns an identical diary, disguised as a dusty old transfiguration book and together they form a passageway for communication.

Their own little secret.

“It’s almost three.” The nervous bobbling of his leg, brings her back to the present day and she quickly gulps the last of her Butterbeer.

She knows James is waiting for Sirius at the Library. She knows this is the last time she’ll see him before she leaves and it is better to rip the bandaid off now.

“Let’s get going then.” She shrugs, getting up and quickly pushing her chair back towards the table. He does the same and follows her outside.

They walk in silence. Him, with his hands stuffed in pockets, his kicking rocks while she rubs her arms to fight the February chill.

“Do you want my jacket? Here have my jacket.” He murmurs, draping it on her shoulder despite her many protests. If that wasn’t enough, Sirius rests an arm on her shoulder so they can huddle close to fight the crisp air.

“You didn’t have to do that, Sirius.”

He proceeds to ignore her and he begins to hum the lyrics to You Make Loving Fun. Only, the lyrics are all jumbled up. She doesn’t care however. It’s the best rendition of the song, despite all the added swears and profanity.

For a second, she forgets that she’s leaving and begins to laugh at him, laugh with him. He in return, tickles her sides.Everything is the way it should be. Snow melting off tree tops, sunlight streaming in through fluffy little clouds, and his glorious smirk giving her life. She wants to make a snowglobe out of this moment. She wants to take a piece of him with her.

“Are you going to leave without kissing me goodbye?” He crosses his arm, like a little boy throwing a tantrum. She begins to chuckle but stops midway, realising they have reached the crossroads.

This is the hard part.

He is going back to the castle. And she is going to her Portkey.

Without thinking, she lunges at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and pressing her face on his face till they collide in a kiss goodbye.

Then she moves away and takes two steps backwards. Handing him his jacket.

“Keep it.” He insists but she refuses.

“Stay in touch, Sirius Black.” She says her parting remarks and turns away.

“Wait.” He reaches for her hand and she stops without much effort. If he tells her to stay with him now, she knows deep down she’ll find a way to stay.

But the words never come. Instead, he hands her a small compass. The three point arrow pointing due north. It’s made of pure gold.

“What’s this?” She asks.

“It’s a compass Andromeda got for me and I want you to have it.” He smiles a little.

“I couldn’t possibly—” she begins to protest but he shakes his head, clasping her fingers shut around the compass.

“Find your way back to me.” He says, taking a step back. “It’s a leap year. Promise to bring this back to me during the next leap year.”

“Only if you promise to meet me every leap year.”

“I promise.”

“I promise.” She echoes, fighting the dampness in her eyes as she reluctantly turns away.

1977

I don’t write as often as I’d like but I think of you. Often. All the time.

Sirius

I think of you too

1978

End of an Era Mr.Black ! Here’s to being done with the N.E.W.T.S. Here’s to you!

Sometimes I just wish I could be down by the lake next to you again. I just want to lay there and tell you about the things you’ve missed, talk about life. Other times, I just want to push you to the nearest wall and fuck you.

Both. I want both.

Fuck, I miss you.

I miss you too.

1979

Prongs is getting married later today. I have never seen him act like this. He’s got this little grin on his face that never goes away. He stares into the distance and sighs in quiet contentment over and over again. As the best man, should I be worried? Are these symptoms of some bizarre sickness? He wrote in his vows that he’d be there for her in sickness and in health but this is another level. Help me out here.

Yours,

Sirius

It’s love. He’s in love. You idiot

I say this way too often but I do miss you so. I also miss my compass and I’m hoping to be reunited with it soon. -S.B. (P.s. You make loving fun.)

29th February 1980, Hogsmeade Village

For the first time in what feels like forever, she feels a sudden rush of happiness running through her veins.

She is so ecstatic to the point where she is paranoid. It's because she’s always afraid of happiness. In her own mind, she thinks it’s best if she remains neutral and alert. That way she can't get blindsided by life’s uncertainties.

These four years have been terribly long. She wishes she’d kept his jacket. Maybe that would have gotten her through her bad days.

She looks at the compass in her hand and the top of the three point star points north—points at him.

Sirius Black, standing ahead of her, with his hands stuffed into his pockets. A typical posture for him but a stance that takes her to memories from another place. Another time.

His back is facing her so he doesn’t see her yet. She takes this as a good thing. That way, she’ll get to tackle him straight to the ground and bury her face into the crook of his neck.

The anticipation of what he said, the thing about the wall still making her stomach flutter. She wanted it to be him. Her first.

She almost does it, almost jumps him. Halfway there, someone else beats her to it.

The girl wraps her hands around his waist, and leans forward to kiss his cheeks. Before she can witness anything more, she apparates away.

The compass lands with a loud thud on her filigreed wallpaper when she get back home and the glass covering the three point stars breaks into smithereens. Springs fall out of the back and the star no longer points north. It doesn’t point anywhere.

She may not know it yet, but she’s lost her way back to him. Maybe even forever.

***

She doesn’t come. He waits all day but she doesn’t come.

The only person he sees that say is the hostess from the nearby inn. She is about his age and shamelessly flirts with him everytime he stops for a Firewhisky.

The next day, still determined, Sirius goes to the same spot and stands out there in the cold till he can’t feel his fingers. Lily tells him he is going to get hypothermia but he is stubborn. He will wait for her even if he has to stand right in the middle of a spring blizzard.

Hours fly by like mere minutes and his feet are now, knee deep in snow. Moony grips his left arm while James takes his right as they drag him home and hand him a cup of hot cocoa.

The stupid record player is playing Fleetwood Mac’s greatest hits, and as if to taunt him, You Make Loving Fun starts to blast in full volume.

Loving? Fun? Ha.

“What about the pain, McVie?” He yells at the spinning record. “Is that fun for for you? The searing pain?”

1981

“Sirius Black, Arrested by DMLE on 13 counts of Murder”

She fiddles with the broken compass in her hand and lets out a shard hiss when the broken glass pricks her finger.

She’s tried to fix it. A hundred times already.

But it’s one in the morning and sleep with a mixture of mead and wine is getting to her. She’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe the compass will help her find her way back to him.

“Find your way back to me.” She hears his voice reverberate from a leap year ago.

“I promise.” She sobs into her pillow. “I promise.”

FIN.

~~~

[bestruction]

Getting high with them for the first time

N/A: If you do drugs do it safely

My masterlist

- Eren Jaeger

He's not the type of guy who pressured you to use, let alone say you're immature or coward for it. When you decide to try it, it's genuinely your idea, and who better than your boyfriend to teach?

That's how you end up in his room, with the door and windows lock to make sure the smell doesn't catch his parent's attention. You sat on the carpet while he carefully rolls the joint so that the cigarette holder doesn't fall.

“Tighten your lips like this and take a deep breath through your mouth” He took a short drag before releasing the smoke “But not too long since this is your first time your throat is not used to the smoke”

You nod and accept the cigarette doing as he said. You feel the smoke warm your mouth, watch it hoover before your eyes after blowing and wait for...Nothing. No different sensation, no tingling, literally nothing.

"I don't think it worked"

“It is not like a switch. Wait a minute, babe ”

You talk a little about the day-to-day of the two and then go to play something new that he had bought. After a few games and a few more huffs, you still don't feel any difference or anything. You even try to hold the smoke in your mouth for a longer time, which results in you coughing incessantly and Eren laughing in your face. Hearing him laugh has always been one of your favorite things. The way he bends his body and laughs out loud without shame until he blushes always makes you laugh together with him, like now.

You laugh, laugh until your body asks for air and needs to alternate between laughter and breathing. You feel calm, relax as if you had lifted a weight off your shoulders. You lay on the carpet feeling the softness of the fabric against your skin ... Was it always that soft? So silky? So comfortable? You close your eyes and rub your hand over the texture, and then the smell of Eren's citric perfume invades your nose. When you opened your eyes, jade eyes were watching you closely.

"I think it has taken effect now, huh?" He says stroking your hair. "Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?" He asks, getting on top of you.

"A few times"

“Then I’m going to tell you again: you’re beautiful” he kisses your lips “So damn beautiful” He kisses your chin “Every single part of you” And now your jaw.

You two spent the afternoon making out on the floor and praising each other. Not because you were high, I mean, not only, but because being so sensitive brought it even more evident how much you wanted each other.

- Levi Ackerman

You had a horrible week. It seemed that everything that could go wrong over the course of seven days had made a point of happening even worse than you imagined. When you got home even after taking a long hot shower and lying in bed, you're unable to relax.

"If you keep turning from side to side, I won't sleep either" Murmured Levi.

"I know. Sorry"

"I'm not complaining. Come here" He pulls you to lie on his chest "Better?"

"A little bit"

"Just a little bit?" He smiles softly "You can try what I do when I get like this"

"Do you mean the mushrooms?"

"If you want to"

You two get out of bed and go to the kitchen. He takes a clear plastic bag from the fridge and places it in front of you. Levi is not the type of guy who gets high all the time. It's more like an escape for when his stress is too high, like yours. He already used it when you met him, and even if you didn't, you never saw a problem with it.

"Just it?"

"I can make tea if you prefer"

"Why don't you use weed like everyone else?"

"Too much work. To roll, check for purity. With mushrooms, I just need to buy and chew them ”

"Well, bon appetit"

You two eat the frozen mushrooms. The taste is not so bad, but it is not a good thing and the smell reminds you of something that had been removed from the forest, which makes sense. Levi suggests that you lie down on the sofa in the living room to watch a movie. There was no need to worry about tomorrow as it would be a day off for both of you.

Lying on Levi's lap and watching the TV, the colors start to shine before your eyes. You didn't remember the white wall looking so vivid, or the pixels on the TV seeming to slow down when you focused on a specific point. It was your house, but it didn't look real. You felt inside a peaceful dream, and inside that dream, you fell asleep forgetting about your nightmare week.

- Armin Arlert

It's your idea. It's Mikasa's birthday party, and Connie had taken some ecstasy pills from whoever wants to use them. So you take two, drag your boyfriend to the bathroom and lock the door.

"You don't have to do it with me if you don't want to, Armin"

"I'm curious too," He says, staring at the little pink pills on your hand.

Armin swallows one, and you do the same after him.

Armin swallows one, and you do the same after him. You want the experience to be as safe as possible. Then both sit in the bathtub and wait for the effect while talking. About half an hour later, you notice how dilated are the pupils of the blond in front of you. Your hearing is a little muffled, and you feel happy and light for no apparent reason. A slight tingle comes and goes through your body, like a wave spreading that sensation across your skin.

You go over to Armin and sit on his lap. He smiles at you, and more than ever, you want to kiss him until you're out of breath, and he's not different from you.

Armin takes your hand between his and brings it to his mouth. He spreads small, short kisses on your hand. You focus on the feeling of his lips running over your skin. You are so damn sensitive even his breathing makes you shiver.

As if a magnetic force pulls you both, you two kiss, letting that soft cloud of pleasure envelop you both. When Armin presses you against his body, deepening the kiss and tasting your mouth, you want to break the laws of physics and be able to occupy the same place as him. You want to become one with him.

And the two of you may not be able to do it, but you certainly tried A LOT in that bathroom.

- Jean Kirstein

Jean is handsome, tall, friendly, and intelligent. So when he starts to be invited to every possible party in college, you’re not surprised. You two have been dating since high school, and you don't feel jealous if he goes to parties alone but he always finds a way to convince you to accompany him with some excuse. Like,  that it would be a lot more fun if you're next to him.

Today, this is one of those times when he convinces you. It's not that you don't like parties kind of, but a party full of strangers doesn't seem like the most attractive thing to you. Then after dancing and talking to people for a long time, he drags you to one of the rooms in the house to give you a well-deserved break.

"Thank you for coming with me," He said, hugging you from behind after closing the door.

"I'm going to want some compensation for that, Kirstein," You said, sitting down in an armchair that was there.

"How about ... That" Jean takes a bag with two white pills out of his pocket and tosses it towards you.

"What is it?"

"LSD"

"What kind of people have you been involved with?" You joke “If your mom knew what you've been up to, Jeanboo”

"Shut up" He sat next to her "If you want to try, I try"

It wouldn't be his first time getting high, he used to smoke weed with Eren in the basement since high school, but it would be yours. As I said, Jean is smart. You knew he had been wanting to try acid for some time. So of course, he had researched on.

Honestly? You are curious but afraid after so many speeches “don’t do drugs, kids”. Jean would never propose anything that could endanger the two of you, which is exactly why he only suggested it when you were alone, and if you said "no" it would be like it never happened.

"Is it just swallowing?"

"Put it under your tongue and let it dissolve"

You lie down on the floor and take it at the same time. It tastes bitter, but unlike any medicine, you've taken in your life.

It takes some time for it to start taking effect, but when it finally did you know. The sound of loud music, muffled by the walls of the room seems to be inside your head now. The colors tremble in front of you, mixing, moving, becoming more intense. You raise your hand towards the ceiling, and you don't feel like that's your hand. Everything seems surreal. You feel calm but active. It's like being very drunk, but the other way around.

Jean pulls you into his chest, and you can hear his heart pumping blood at full speed, like yours. You feel your throat dry, your body sweat, and your hands get cold.

If I could define that feeling with a word, it would definitely be intense.

You spent the night like that. Watching the furniture move and change shape, lying on the floor and without detaching from each other. At some point, you ended up sleeping, and after having the weirdest dream of your life, you woke up with Jean calling you carefully. The sun had already risen, and the house was silent, indicating that the party was over a long time ago.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, helping you to stand.

“Hungry and hungover”

He mumbles something about also being, and you go out to eat at the nearest cafeteria.

[yukina-otome]

Tricking a Kitsune

Summary : MC teasing Mitsuhide for a change.

Warning : None

Pls tell me what you think of it. I really enjoyed writing this and i hope you'll enjoy reading it !

Her plan was perfect ! She was gonna get revenge for all the teasing he made her go through. Or so she thought.

MC was in the present, along with her boyfriend Mitsuhide, her best friend sasuke and shingen. They had one mission : Treat shingen's illness. It was sasuke's idea and MC decided to accompany them to say her last farewell to her old life. Naturally Mitsuhide decided to follow along. The slight possibility of her not coming back made him anxious. He had to follow her.

MC was ecstatic. She wanted to share everything that she liked with him. They went on numerous dates to the amusement park, to the mall, on a drive, to the beach...Mitsuhide was amazed by how japan evolved in 500 years. But he did not show it. He was calm and would almost look like he lived there all his life, if it was not for his many questions on almost everything surrounding him.

Regardless, MC was disappointed. This is not what she had in mind. She thought that now that they were in her time, she would have the upper hand. She wanted to tease him, to see him look around in amazement like a kid in a toy store. But instead he was as calm as ever .

One night, Mitsuhide was resting at home, while MC was grocery shopping. All her plans to surprise Mitsuhide failed. She let out a sight as she picked some juice on the aisle. Honestly, she had fun regardless. She enjoyed going on dates with him and creating new memories. The only thing she was not able to enjoy with him is food. After all her kitsune boyfriend could not taste. He could feel the temperature and texture of aliments but not the taste.

Just as she was thinking that, she passed by the carbonated drink aisle. Yes ! That was it ! She was gonna surprise him by making him drink Cola. She quickly picked 2 bottles, finished the rest of her grocery shopping and almost ran home.

This time for sure she would succeed. Mitsuhide never paid attention to what he was putting in his mouth. Sometime he did not even look at the food before eating it. It did not matter to him after all. As long as it was nutritious.

When MC arrived home, Mitsuhide was sitting on the sofa watching BBC Sherlock (jp subs) on Netflix. It seems he found a new hobby : Police and detective genre. Was it books, TV shows or even anime he spent his free time marathoning it. Truly MC rarely saw Mitsuhide that relaxed when they were in sengoku era. Soon they would go back along with sasuke and shingen who was almost done with his treatment. But for now, Mitsuhide was on a vacation. A real one this time. MC smiled and gave him a kiss. "I'll make dinner" she said. "I shall help you little mouse" he was about to pause his episode but she stopped him. "No need. Tonight dinner is easy to make. You can wash the dishes if you want." He nodded.

MC took the ingredient and her secret weapon (the cola) to the kitchen. She put the bottles in the fridge. After all Cola was better when chilled. She smiled evilly and started preparing dinner.

Half an hour later, the table was set. Two plates of pasta along with 2 mugs of Cola sat on the dinner table. MC did not want to risk Mitsuhide noticing the weird drink because of the gas escaping sound when he opened the bottle. She also thought that the dark color of the drink could make him suspicious so she poured it in a mug.

As expected Mitsuhide thanked her and quickly sat down and started eating. As always he did not waste time admiring the food. He just ate.

This was perfect. She started eating too but kept her eyes on him. Mitsuhide did not find that weird. He was used to his little one admiring him when he was eating, or watching TV or working or sleeping.

Without much though, he finally picked the mug and took a rather big sip. The second he did so, he felt fizzing in his mouth, followed by a tingling sensation that reached his nose and throat. His eyes squeezed shut, his lips closed almost in a pout, his nose wiggled in a cute way. It was a face you never saw or thought Mitsuhide could make. It was absolutely adorable.

After finally swallowing the drink, he started coughing and looked down on the weird black liquid. Now that he looked at it, it had bubbles on top and he could hear the drink fizzing. He was about to ask MC what that weird drink was when he heard her laughing. That's when he understood : he was tricked. He felt his ears blush but tried to keep his kitsune mask on.

"Oho! Little mouse what did you put in my drink ? Is that what I get for trusting you ?" he was joking of course. He knew his little one would never do anything that could harm him. "This is one of the most popular drinks in the world. Cola. " MC managed to say between giggles.

This weird thing ? A popular drink ? He could not taste it but he hated the feeling it gave him. How could anyone enjoy this?

He saw MC take a sip of her cup. He waited for her to show any kind of reaction but she drank it like it was water. She was looking at him as she drank, a teasing smile on her face. At that moment he felt they had switched positions. For once he was the one who got teased, he was the one who got embarrassed and he was the one who was blushing.

Quickly, he frowned, stood up, pouted and halted off toward living room, his face and ears bright red. He would let her have this victory and would take his revenge later that night, in bed.

[nat-20s]

Wonderful! Au Part 7! (also on ao3 here) another episode only installment, and obnoxiously fluffy! Have fun!

~*~

Martin, tired: Hello everybody! Welcome, or welcome back, to a very low energy episode. We have had, as the kids say, A Week Tm.

Jon, equally tired, but fond: Is that as the kids say?

Martin: I don't know, and perhaps worse, I don't really care. I guess I could ask Jeremiah next time he's over, but I'm not sure if that would actually help.

Jon: Shockingly, I don't think two year olds have their finger on the beating pulse of youth culture.

Martin: Hmm, maybe not. Speaking of Jeremiah, he's part of why the format of this episode is gonna be a bit different than our regular. On top of me dealing with a frankly obscene amount of inventory management, and Jon being swamped with grant writing-

Jon: I never want to look at proposal guidelines again-

Martin: we were on babysitting duty for our favourite neighborhood hellion-

Jon: Hey, Jeremiah is a very sweet kid! I know he's a toddler, but we shouldn't be slandering him anyway.

Martin: One, we're not even using his real name, I don't think that counts as slander, and two, exactly, he's a toddler, he's by default a hellion.

Jon, teasing: This coming from the person that actually wants one?

Martin: I..look, if anything, the last few days have shown we should not be permanent parents.

Jon: But?

Martin:...There's no but.

Jon: I don't believe you! Are you lying for my benefit or the audience's? Because someone spent the last five days wearing one of the largest grins I've ever seen, exhausted as it may have been.

Martin: Okay! Fine, I admit, I liked having a kid around. I still think it would be a bad idea to do it full time, but I dunno. I wish we weren't both only children or something. We would make such good uncles.

Jon: Should I should have taken that teaching job after all?

Martin: Perhaps. After all,

Martin, singsong: An English teacher, is really someone!

Jon and Martin, singing together: If only you, had be-come one!

Jon: Honestly, though, I was considerably underqualified. I'm much more suited to my current job, even if it doesn't have quite the same impact on the "shaping of the next generation" or whatnot.

Martin: Wait, you actually care about qualifications now? When did that change?

Jon: This coming from Mister "master's degree in parapsychology"? And it was probably around the time that the world ended from taking on a workload I was ill-suited for.

Jon:...

Jon: Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Martin: Oh, of course. Definitely nothing literally apocalyptic in our pasts, no siree, nothing to see or speculate about or make weirdly involved forums for here. Uh, anyway, long introduction not so short: Both of us have been averaging about 4 hours of sleep, so any sort of actual research was not on the table.

Jon: If any of you are wondering why we didn't just say that we're both very much worn out and thus we'll be taking a week off, it's because we're both deeply, deeply stubborn.

Martin: It's one of our best shared qualities that has never caused any conflict between us, ever.

Jon: In fairness, sheer stubbornness does account for, what, 75% of the reason that either of us are still alive? And it hasn't caused a major conflict between us in a good three years.

Martin: That's true. We've become a deeply boring, relatively conflict free couple. Which fucking rules, by the way. To all the couples out there: I highly recommend being boring. It is so nice. We've gotten to go to the farmer's market so many times.

Jon: You do love the farmer's market. I would say that it's the access to fresh produce, but I think you just like the attention that one yarn seller gives you. Can't believe you would take advantage of a crush to get discounts on wool. How did I marry such an opportunist?

Martin: Ollie does not have a crush on me. They're just friendly to everyone.

Jon: Bullshit. I certainly never get an extra skein or stitch markers or delicate fabric cleaner tossed in my bag. Actually, I think I've been charged more for committing the crime of having married you before they could.

Martin: I'm..70% sure that's not true, but every sentence we speak, we stray further from even pretending to be on topic. So, to everybody listening, this is the itty bitty episode! Basically, we're only doing small wonders and user submissions. If you want details or backstory for things we like, too bad, come back next week. Jon, I believe you're first this week?

Jon: Oh, right. My first small wonder is cat names.

Martin: Delightful, but unsurprising. Though, I would've expected either more or less specificity. Why cat names as opposed to pet's names in general, or, like, military title names?

Jon: Well that's simple enough. I've simply never met a misnamed cat, even if the name itself wasn't to my personal tastes, and I think that speaks to the wonderful universality of cats.

Martin: This, of course, implies that you have met animals that were misnamed.

Jon: Oh, I have. I once met a papillion dog named Meatball.

Martin: Now I know you don't like food names in general for pets, but are you sure that Meatball didn't suit the dogs personality? I've known some "Meatballs" in my lifetime.

Jon, only half-mock offended: Of course it didn't fit, Martin. She was a lady. A nervous, jittery lady, but a lady nonetheless.

Martin, laughing: And what, you've never met a dignified cat with an undignified name, or vice versa? Would you be okay with our cat being named Meatball?

Jon: I would be upset if our cat was named Meatball, because we named her and we're above that sort of thing, but, technically speaking, she could have been Meatball in another lifetime and it wouldn't have been wrong. You see, all cats are a mix of both extremely austere and little baby idiot.

Martin: Oh, is that the scientific terminology?

Jon: It is. Now, while there's probably some amount of, er, normative determinism or confirmation bias or something that results in a cat with a more dignified name seeming to possess more of that austerity, as all cats have both, any name can, potentially, fit. Hence why it's wonderful.

Martin: I..accept your proposal for now, but I think more research needs to be done. Maybe we should visit the shelter this weekend and test your hypothesis.

Jon: Hmm. I think we may need to visit multiple shelters, actually. A large sample size is necessary for any sort of veracity, obviously.

Martin, imitating Jon tone: Obviously.

Jon: Glad you agree. What's your first small wonder?

Martin: Tofu!

Jon: I..didn't realize you liked that much?

Martin: Well, I don't get it very often since I know you can't stand the texture, even though it is not like 'worse scrambled eggs', and you're a horrible food thief-

Jon: Lies and slander. We readily share. If I'm a horrible food thief, you have committed the exact same, if not worse, crime as myself.

Martin: Well, we are thick as thieves.

Jon, groaning: You're thick as something alright

Martin: Rude! My beloved husband-

Jon: -uh huh-

Martin: whom I love and trust with my most tender of hearts-

Jon: -an oddly cannibalistic turn of phrase-

Martin, badly suppressing laughter: Oh, my god. I want a divorce, then I can put tofu in as many dishes as I like. I'll triple my protein intake.

Jon: It'd never go through. I'll burn the papers. No, wait, I'll burn down the legal offices where the papers are kept.

Martin: Hmm. While my experiences with it have been, uh, varied to say the least, I do have to admit that arson is one of the more attractive crimes of passion. I suppose I'll take you back.

Jon, flat: I'm so very grateful.

Jon, genuine: You do have yet to actually tell me why you think tofu is wonderful, love.

Martin: It's just a good food! It's neutral enough that you can toss it in pretty much anything with a sauce, you can bake it, you can fry it, whatever. Plus it's what? two? Three quid? I spent many years of my life living off the cheapest, saltiest approximation of noodles you could imagine, and half a pack of tofu, a little bit of sesame oil, and some green onions went a long way to both making it more filling and less sad. 

Martin: Plus, I feel like it often gets decried for being something it's not? It's so often viewed as a meat substitute or the vegan alternative option, and so when people try it, they often go in with a false preconceived notion of what it's going to be like, and then end up disappointed. They're all like, 'ugh, this doesn't taste like turkey!' and yeah, of course it doesn't. It's the oatmeal raisin cookie of the protein world, a perfectly good and tasty treat on its own, but if you want chocolate chip, it's not gonna work.

Jon: Martin you don't even like oatmeal raisin. I'm the only one that ever eats them out of the multipacks.

Martin: Well, yeah, but I don't like oatmeal raisin because of its flavor, not because I think it should be chocolate chip and fails. It illustrates my point. Also, just for balance, is your next small wonder oatmeal raisin cookies?

Jon: No, though, maybe one of these weeks. They are good. But no, um, my next small wonder is being married.

Martin, let out a high bark of a laugh: Being married is a small wonder?!

Jon: Small wonders doesn't mean a lack of importance! Or even significance in our lives. Half the time we even end up spending just as much time chattering on about them as the things we actually research. But, yes, I didn't feel like researching the concept of being married. For one, a lot of the history of it is depressing and patriarchal, and for two, it's not something I really feel any need to elaborate on. Being married. I very much enjoy it. I recommend it for anybody that's found someone that they want to marry, and who wants to marry them. I really recommend being married to Martin Blackwood, I think I would enjoy it significantly less if it was to anybody else, but one: we typically try to make the wonderful things in this show  applicable to more than just ourselves, and two: I got there first, so I believe the appropriate thing to say here would be; neener neener and/or everyone else can go suck it, Ollie.

Martin: Well...

Jon: Well, what?

Martin: Saying you got there first is technically not true-

Jon: What?!

Martin, laughing like a bastard: Sorry, sorry! Couldn't resist! Jon, you already know that you're my first real realationship, how would be married before fit that?

Jon: Hence my surprise at the notion! I cannot believe you! I give you my trust, my earnestness, and belief-

Martin [only laughs harder]

Jon: and you throw it in my face for a bit. I take back everything, being married is a nightmare, because sometimes your partner thinks he a fucking comedian and you just have to put up with him because you love him and want to live the rest of your life with him or some such nonsense. Not worth it, if you ask me. My turn to ask for the divorce.

Martin: Babe, hate to break it to you, but both of us are guilty of doing bits that the other doesn't like, it's an integral part of  a healthy marriage, and secondly, you knew who I was long before I proposed. You should've said no when you had the chance.

Jon: Hang on, you proposed?

Martin: Yeah? This isn't part of a bit, of course I proposed. I'm even pretty sure you were there. The whole visit back to Scotland trip? I finally made you a sweater and said it was because we would now be immune to the boyfriend curse?

Jon: No, no, I remember all that, but it wasn't the proposal. It was a reaffirmation of the proposal. We had already decided to get married.

Martin: Well, yeah,, I wasn't just gonna spring that on you, we had had conversations beforehand-

Jon:  No, I mean, I had already proposed. I asked you to marry me a good three years earlier, and you said yes, which is a proposal by any definition that I know.

Martin: Jon, love, darling, apple of my eye, fire of my soul, I mean this in the nicest way possible, what the everloving fuck are you talking about?

Jon: In the ambulance ride when we, uh, moved here. It was the thing I said to you the second I saw your eyes were open.

[An audible pause is left in the recording.]

Martin: That does not count.

Jon: How does it not count?! I asked you to marry me, you very emphatically said yes, that's the de facto definition of an accepted marriage proposal!

Martin: It doesn't count because you were half-delirious with blood-loss, and I had a traumatic brain injury that the hospital was very surprised I made a full recovery from. No court in the world would consider anything we said then more than pain driven ramblings, let alone, I dunno, contractually binding.

Jon: Well, I knew what I was saying well and clear. Just because it was desperate doesn't mean it wasn't sincere. I didn't realize that you weren't as cognizant when you accepted.

Martin, snorting: Yeah, didn't really need to be cognizant to say yes. I've wanted to marry you since the train ride to Scotland.

Jon: Wait, really? Martin, we hadn't even been on a date.

Martin: And yet we were on the lamb together, which I honestly think is more romantic than sitting in some restaurant somewhere trying to get through icebreakers. Also, back up, from your perspective we've been engaged since 2019? What did you think we were doing in the interim?

Jon: Uhh..

Martin: Yes?

Jon: There are people that have long engagement periods, and it's not exactly like we were in any sort of position to get married for awhile. Especially not that first year.

Martin: Okay? And?

Jon: And..I sort of thought you had changed your mind. For awhile. Was rather surprised that you kept living with me, considering that, on the worst nights, I was convinced you were going to storm off and leave me forever any minute now. Hence why your proposal was rather relieving.

Martin: Oh, Jon, love. That is so very ridiculous, and so very you, and so very close to many of my own fears and doubts. Do you have any idea how terrified I was to float the idea of marriage to you? Half the time I was convinced I was just meant to keep you company until you found someone better. And, Christ, we'd, from your perspective, been engaged the whole damn time. Fuck.

[Jon, after a beat, starts laughing. It has a slightly hysterical edge to it. Martin joins in. It takes a minute for the laughter to subside enough for them to speak again.]

Jon: I'm rapidly realizing that our entire romantic relationship would've been, if not more successful, a hell of a lot faster if we weren't both complete fools.

Martin: You're realizing that now? I think I've known that since the CV incident. I've definitely known it since the Lonely.

Jon, with a slightly tired chuckle:Yes, yes, something probably should've tipped me off earlier. Shockingly, observation of our own personal romantic trends is not always a strong suit of mine.

Jon: Anyway, please tell me you have another small wonder, this has gotten wildly of track.

Martin: Since we're talking about marriage anyway, I think my next small wonder is having a shared reference in your wedding vows. Our friends had "I have been, and always shall be, your friend" in theirs, and I made Jon cry with a slightly altered Lord of the Rings quote in ours.

Jon: First off, we were both openly weeping long before that point, secondly, I defy anybody to have been through half of what we have and then have the love of their life look them in the eyes and tell them "Leave you? I never intend to. I am going with you, if you climb to the moon" without at least tearing up.

Martin: There wasn't a dry eye in the audience, either. Granted, the audience was only 20 people, but that was also literally the only time I've seen Eloise show a strong emotion, so I'm pretty smug about it.

Martin, soft: I still feel exactly the same, you know. If you're climbing to the moon, I'll make sure the rope is strong enough for two.

Jon, soft: I know, love.

Jon: Though, to be fair, the moon is also significantly more pleasant than many places we've been.

Martin: God, I hate how much that's true. Look at this barren, oxygenless rock, at least it's not actively trying to kill us. Practically a honeymoon location.

[Martin sighs]

Martin: I am so tired. Let's do the user submissions then take a very long nap.

Jon: Please.

Martin: So, first submission is from Josie; They find it wonderful getting cards from their friends. They say they're lucky to have so much love in their life and have friends that care enough to send them things. That is wonderful Josie! We have a drawer in our house dedicated to every loving card we've ever received since the move, and they're always such a nice reminder of the people in our lives.

Jon: We should really organize that drawer, but, yes, agree with the sentiment. Even the cards from people that are no longer in our lives are lovely, I think. Those connections are very much meaningful for both of us, whether they're active or not.

Martin: That's very true.  Next submission is from Lys, who submits the sound of leaves crunching under your feet in the fall. Ah, that's a classic.

Jon: I just felt myself relax imagining it. I wish it was autumn.

Martin: Don't we all? Alright, for the last submissions, I'm grouping them together as they follow a similar theme. Jadwiga submits the feeling of waking up well into the morning with the sun shining through the window and your cat laying next to you, and Oran submits when a dog falls asleep with its head in your lap.

Jon: I can heartily recommend at least one of those, considering that's how we try to wake up most mornings. The Duchess is a dutiful darling girl who spends every night with us, and she's usually still there when us humans rise.

Martin: I bet you'll agree with the other when I finally convince you to get me a dog for my birthday.

Jon: It hasn't happened yet, so I wouldn't hold your breath.

Martin: But you don't even dislike dogs! You're just as happy to pet them when they pass by as I am.

Jon: Being fine with an animal isn't the same thing as wanting to adopt one for yourself! We don't even know if The Duchess would put up with a dog.

Martin: I bet she would. I bet we could get a big senior dog who's the calmest animal you've ever met with those soft eyes and a little grey on the muzzle and she would cuddle up in an instant. And we did say we should visit a shelter or three this weekend..

Jon: I think you're rather callously taking advantage of my exhausted state, but I suppose we can look. 

Martin: Hell fuckin yeah. So, I think that'll close out the episode, and as we always say at the end, uh, go take a nap and get a dog. Not necessarily in that order.

[serendipityjxmn]

Mr. President

Chapter 15

TW: None

Words Count: 1.3k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 16

It’s awkward with him. Very awkward ever since the little drama in the kitchen and that is two days ago. You sigh, because you know you can’t just let the atmosphere tense and leave it as it is. It’s your fault anyway for bringing Clara Kim into the conversation. You know you have no right to pry into his personal matters. You’re only his wife on papers.

You caring for him doesn’t give you the right as well, it’s all on your part so you just smile bitterly, thinking that you’ve brought this upon yourself.

But he’s still your husband. And you still have another half a year to go with him. So you ought to do anything to fix, whatever relationship you have with him.

That’s how you find yourself pushing the cart in a supermarket. Jimin’s birthday is in another two days and you’ve planned everything out for his birthday. You smile a little, reminding yourself to thank Irene for her ideas.

“You okay?” Irene asked back when you were still working at the company.

“Huh? What? U-um.. yeah.”

“You sure?”

You sighed. “Actually, no. It’s um.. my boyfriend. He- his birthday’s coming and I completely forgot about it.”

She smiled kindly. “That’s understandable.” She laughed. “So you’re worried what to get him.”

You sighed in resign.

“You know.. they say the simplest way to earn a guy’s heart is through their stomach. At least that’s what my mom said. And she’s still happily married with my dad. With us three annoying kids.” She laughed.

Now that hit hard. You smiled bitterly, wondering if you would ever experience that too one day. Starting a real family. You’ve been married for a little more than five months now. There isn’t much time left..

You shake your head. You’ve no time to dwell on such depressing thoughts when you have so much things to do now. As soon as you get home, you quickly start cooking all his favourite dishes, kimchi jigae included as well as seaweed soup, typical for birthdays. You even baked a chocolate cake which you aren’t entirely sure if it’s edible. You don’t have much experience baking a cake but you hope this might do although you almost burnt yourself once in the process.

Judging by the smell of it as well as the texture, it seems fine. So you proceed to decorate and write ‘Happy 25th birthday’ with icing on top of it. Once you’re done, you quickly set the table with all the dishes and the cake. You even make an attempt to hang a balloon on the corner of the dining area. You wipe a sweat beading on your forehead.

This is a tad bit too exhausting to be done alone and under a pressured time frame and constant fear of Jimin walking in in the middle of preparation.

He won’t think this is too much.. right? You suddenly think once you sit down and look around the decorated dining area.

After all you’ve been married for half a year now. Even if you don’t have a real marriage with him, you can still celebrate birthdays as.. friends..? Or a mere housemate..?

You shake your head, trying not to ruin the moment.

It’s almost 8.30PM now. An hour had passed since you’ve finished setting up the table. You keep on glancing at the clock, wondering if your husband would be home late. An hour drags into two. You think the cake is going to melt soon. The dishes are going cold too.

You suddenly feel like laughing at yourself. Wondering what on earth are you doing to yourself. Waiting pathetically when your husband might rather be out celebrating with someone else instead of you. With Clara Kim perhaps. The mere thought makes you smile bitterly.

You’re just about to rise from sitting and throw everything away when you hear the sound of the front door opening. As if you didn’t just wait for two hours, your inside starts to get excited again and you find yourself impatiently waiting for him to appear at the threshold.

When he finally appears, you put on the brightest smile while saying ’Surprise!’ at him.

He looks momentarily frozen as he looks at you and then around the dining area that’s filled with decorations.

You bite your lips unconsciously when he doesn’t say anything even after several moments passed.

Then he takes a few steps forward, closing in the distance between the two of you and you’ve no idea why the large area suddenly looks so small when he approaches you. He stops a few footsteps away from you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He snaps suddenly and you flinch instantly. Definitely not the kind of reaction you expected.

“I- I thought.. we’ve been married for half a year now..” you begin.

“So you think we’re actual husband and wife now?” He hisses and you recoil at his words. “Do you wanna know why you’re here?”

You look down. “Because I owe you.” You answer quietly.

“Ah yes.. that.” He smiled a smile so sinister you suddenly find yourself very afraid. “But the real reason, baby, is because you’re nothing.”

Looking up, your eyes widen at him. “W-what?”

He smirks. “Six months ago, I had to marry anyway, one of the stupid condition my father set as his so called heir. They had their choices of daughter in law oh- believe me they do. But I convinced them to let me choose on my own. Made up all sorts of bullshit how I’m so in love with you, you with me.. You wanted to know why I’m marrying you.. is because you don’t have a powerful background.. and when the time comes-“

It doesn’t take long for you to understand. “You can just throw me away.” You finish for him.

He smiles, like he’s satisfied with your answer. “A powerful family can be a mess. I prefer it neat and clean.”

He throws the words at you as if you’re a toy that doesn’t have feelings at all.

“So you can stop all this-“ he flaunts his hand around the dining table. “shit. You do realize this isn’t an actual marriage right? And after that, forget me. There’s no point for you to remember me, or us. So there’s no need for us to make, memories.” He says the last word menacingly and storms out the kitchen.

You don’t move for a whole few seconds. And when he’s gone, you sink into the chair.

You smile bitterly. Of course.. that’s your husband.. He wouldn’t know how your back almost hurt preparing all these for him, almost getting yourself burnt, and all just to let him know that there’s someone who wants him to spend his birthday meaningfully. You don’t even ask for anything in return. A simple thank you from him would do.

You tears flow harshly.

Of course Jimin wouldn’t do that…

Because this isn’t a real marriage.

You smile pathetically.

How stupid was you.

After a long while of crying which is something you think you spent a lot of time doing since your marriage with Jimin, you pick up the wrapped gift on the chair beside you. You make your way to Jimin’s study. You hover outside for a while thinking how to give the gift to your husband since he’d so conveniently walk away from you before you even had the chance to. After a moment, you decide to just leave it outside the door.

It’s a painting that you started a few days ago when he gifts you the art set and you only slept for two hours yesterday just to finish it. A painting of his backside, only his side profile appearing smiling brightly in his tux, one that he wore during the wedding, while looking at someone on his left, a girl you don’t draw except her backside, his hands tightly clasping hers. Looking happy.

Definitely not how your wedding photo with him was like.

Because he definitely doesn’t smile that way when he looks at you.

Link to Chapter 16

Posted on 210430 9:00PM

A/N: Kinda a short update because.. my heart breaks writing this and I don’t really wanna put too much angst xD *when you like angst but can’t stand angst too*

[nationalharryleague]

Work of Art

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: AU, Artist!Harry, fluff, angst if you squint

Word count: 4K

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my entry for @hsogolden​ ’s AU writing challenge! Check out their blog they are incredibly talented!!! ALSO, a MASSIVE thank you and shoutout to the lovely Miss Lu, @harrysgucciloafers​!!! I could have never done it without her!! Thank you so much for reading and remember, feedback is so so so appreciated!!! You can also send requests to my ask anytime!! I hope you enjoy :) More of my writing can be found in my masterlist :) 

***

Sleep was fleeting and you remained staring at your popcorn ceiling in your shitty apartment for longer than you would have liked. It was later than you would have liked when your phone buzzed and lit up the ceiling of your bedroom. Knowing sleep was still far off, you rolled over and examined the text from an unknown number, the bright screen blinding you in the process.

Hi, I was thinking of you today. I thought I would show you this piece that I made of you. Hope you’re doing well. Hx, attached was a slightly blurry photo of a beautiful painting of a woman.

The woman in the painting was made up of beautiful bright colors, her skin a mix of green, blue, and purple tones. Her eyes were a bright and captivating cerulean, standing out behind wide framed glasses, and she wore an intriguing and knowing smirk on her lips. Her hair fell down in blunt bangs over her forehead and framed her heart shaped face. She was young, looking to be only a little bit older than you.

The painting was captivating. It was crafted with such bright tones, using color blocking that blended the abstract with some elements of realism. It felt like someone poured all of their emotion and adoration or hurt (you couldn’t decide which) into it. You couldn’t decide if the artist loved or hated this figure staring back at you. One thing you knew was that whoever texted you was incredibly talented and had obviously dedicated so much time to this piece. You felt awful that it hadn’t reached its intended destination.

Um… Wrong number, you typed out, feeling a pang of sympathy for whoever ‘H’ was.

Oh… okay. Sorry to bother you., your phone screen lit up again.

Your art is beautiful, you quickly sent back, attempting to offer some sort of consolation to the mystery artist. Sorry I’m not who you wanted to talk to.

Don’t worry about it. Just looking for someone from a lifetime ago.

That last part kept you up for most of the night. You couldn’t stop thinking about what that could mean. Old friend? Estranged relative? Another artist? You let your mind dream up Oscar-worthy scenarios until you finally fell asleep.

***

“Please come to Scott’s art show with me,” Grace whined from across the table at your favorite coffee shop. Grace was your best friend from college and hadn’t figured out to get rid of you yet.

“You know how I feel about your shitty boyfriend and his shitty art,” you fired back. Scott was a pretentious “artist” who made “ironic” misogynistic sculptures and frequently “forgot” to pay Grace back for his share of rent. You hated his guts.

“I promise I’m going to break up with him soon. I just need to get to the end of the month so I get my money’s worth for rent,” she assured you. “By the way, I’m going to need some help moving out at the end of the month,” she mentioned nonchalantly. You let out a chuckle at her and playfully rolled your eyes.

“I will go to the show with you on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You’ll hold my hand.”

A few hours later you walked into the modern and cold art show space, holding onto Grace’s hand for dear life, feeling unwelcome in this environment. Grace blended in easily, her bright blue hair and arms of tattoos suiting her well.  The edgiest thing you had ever done was getting your nose pierced… until your grandma threw a fit and your mom made you take it out. You were not an artist and you did not feel welcome in the art community, or at least the type of artists that hang out with Scott. You worked in an office, you dressed plainly and simply, and you didn’t think there was anything special about yourself. You were strikingly ordinary, a sharp contrast from most other people in the gallery. You felt like an outsider because you were one.

Walking around the gallery, you hung onto Grace while examining and appreciating the artwork. You took careful steps, as if to not take attention away from the paintings on the walls and spent time examining each piece as you moved through the room. As you moved from wall to wall, your eyes fell on a strikingly familiar painting. The same girl with the bright blue eyes and the bangs stared back at you, the devilish smirk still playing upon her lips like she knew you had met before.

Releasing Grace’s hand, you all but ran up to the painting in question, trying to take in all the details that didn’t translate over the slightly grainy photo on your phone. The painting took on a life of its own up close. The paint itself was layered thick and thin across the canvas creating a rough texture that made the girl come alive. You were half waiting for her to make eye contact with her captivating baby blues and start staring back at you. You felt like you could reach inside the canvas and hold the beautiful woman’s face in your hands.

“Do you like it?” a deep British voice asked after clearing their throat behind you.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful,” you murmured, still staring at the green and purple woman. It took you a moment to rip yourself away from her piercing eyes and look towards the voice, only to turn around and find an even more captivating set.

They were bright green and belonged to a tall, dark haired man that was breathtaking. He had chocolate brown curls that seemed to be sticking in every direction, like a purposefully perfect bedhead, and stubble that moved up his jaw and down his neck. He had plushy pink lips framing his bright smile and his two front teeth came down the tiniest bit too far. He was wearing a white tshirt that was painted to his fit body as it was a size too small for him, showing off his arms of tattoos, and a pair of orange corduroy flares. His ensemble was topped off with a pearl necklace. He arched a brow when your mouth hung open slightly, trying to take all of him in.

“The painting is gorgeous,” you eventually were able to spit out. “I feel like I know her.”

“I’m glad that I was able to create something so captivating,” he smiled at you. So he was the one that painted it, meaning he was the one who had texted it to you. After getting over the initial shock, you gave yourself an internal high five for having this guy’s number. “Harry,” he introduced himself, reaching out a perfectly manicured hand to shake yours. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Y/N,” you smiled back, debating if you should tell him that you had kind of met before. It felt creepy to tell him, like you were some sort of voyer on an intimate part of his life. “I love her. Can you tell me a little bit more about it?” you asked. You had to figure out if it was worth being creepy about.

“So did I,” he said with a light chuckle. “She’s someone that I used to know,” he elaborated looking over your shoulder, surely making eye contact with the woman. Maybe you were reading into it too closely, but you thought a flash of hurt passed across his features.

“Do you always paint mysterious people from your past?” you teased, wanting to break the slightly awkward silence and also willing to do anything to talk to him further.

“Actually, I’m mainly a landscape painter,” he smiled at the ground, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Looking back at Harry’s wall of paintings you realized that the girl was the only person on the wall, flanked by beautiful landscape paintings depicting all different areas of the world. You quickly picked your favorite, a monochromatic green scene of the Eiffel tower.

After you asked if he traveled a lot to paint, the conversation began to flow. You strolled around the mainly empty studio space, footsteps falling in sync, him teaching you about his paintings and you asking questions, desperate to learn anything you could from him and just wanting to hear that beautiful accent. You learned he grew up in Cheshire and moved to New York for school and never left, but he travelled to Europe often to see his family and to paint. He told you about how his ultimate goals in life were to have one of his pieces in the Museum of Modern Art and to find his soulmate. He was a hopeless yet hopeful romantic. He also had two cats, Evie and Stevie (the latter was obviously named after Stevie Nicks).

He was so beautiful. He had this magical twinkle in his eye that you just couldn’t get over. He looked like he was one of the sculptors’ in the room’s life work. He was just as much of a piece of art as anything on display in the studio.

When the crowd started to thin, Grace came and found you, still rolling her eyes from something stupid Scott had said, him trailing not far behind. “Hi my love,” she greeted you, kissing your cheek casually as always. “We were getting ready to head out but I can see you’ve made a friend.”

“Harry is the artist behind all these amazing paintings,” gesturing to the long wall displaying his artwork. “This is my best friend Grace,” you said, turning back to him. “And that’s her soon to be ex-boyfriend, Scott,” you laughed and pointed to him staring at a blank white canvas in the corner that was obviously not part of the exhibition.

“Wait,” he began, shaking his head and laughing, pointing accusingly between the two of you. “You two aren’t together?”

“What? No!”

“It’s just that you were holding hands for a while when you came in and then she called you ‘love,’ and then kissed your cheek,” he continued laughing, his cheeks a bright red. It was adorable. You felt your cheeks heat up just as bright red as his.

“Oh my god, no.” You broke out into a fit of giggles of your own.

“Well, in that case, would you like to grab a drink or something sometime?”

***

You decided to order a martini when you got to the bar the next night. You thought it would make you look fancy and you hoped it would impress your worldly date. You had put on your favorite red dress (the one that hugged you in all the right spots and hid the wrong ones), praying he would dress up like you did, and slid carefully onto the barstool. Bouncing your knee nervously, you sipped your drink slowly until you saw his well dressed figure enter the bar, making your heart skip a beat.

He was dressed in high-waisted wide-legged tan pants and a bright red cardigan printed with small white hearts that was held together in the front by a single button, leaving his chest and signature pearl necklace on display. His chest tattoos were now slightly visible, the faces of two swallows looking back at you, as well as what you thought might be some sort of antennae peeking up from his stomach. He also wore an award winning smile and shot you a wink when he spotted you from the entrance of the bar. Once again, he took your breath away.

“Hello darling,” he greeted you as he made his way over. You began to panic when he started leaning into you, relieved when his lips found their way to your cheek and quickly moved to the other. When he kissed your cheeks, it sent sparks through your body. Oh my god, he is so British, you squealed inside your head, unable to suppress your American excitement. “I like your color choice,” he smirked looking between your outfits of almost the exact same red. You could only hope your cheeks didn’t match as well.

“Great minds dress alike,” you remarked, earning a laugh from the gorgeous man in front of you. Turns out, your joke was enough to break the ice. Soon the conversation began to flow freely, without anxiety or trepidation, like you were a pair of souls reunited after lifetimes apart. You were two martinis in when you decided to break the news that the art gallery was not the first time you had spoken.

“I think I have to break something to you,” you giggled, everything seeming a little funny after a few drinks, “the art show was not the first time we met.” His eyebrows knit together in slight confusion so you decided to elaborate. “The night before the show you sent a picture of that painting to a wrong number, and that wrong number was me. I promise it was all a coincidence and I am not stalking you.” You held your breath while you waited a moment with bated breath for a reaction from him, but released the stress that had found its way into your shoulders when his smile returned to his lips.

“I knew you had more interest in Amelia than most people,” he chuckled. Amelia, you repeated to yourself, now having a name for the face of your mystery woman.

“When Grace dragged me to that studio and I saw her again, I just had to know more. But then I met you and got a little distracted,” you flirted, “accidentally” nudging his leg with the point of your stiletto.

“I’m glad I’m just a distraction to you,” he feigned offense, clutching his pearl necklace with the hand that wasn’t hanging onto his neat tequila.

“Meeting you tonight was actually just an elaborate ruse to learn more about your Amelia,” you sarcastically confessed, sending him back one of the winks he had been shooting you all night. Your wink wasn’t met with his typical laugh, but a slightly pained smile that didn’t reach his eyes. You worried you had hit a nerve.

“She’s not my Amelia anymore. Actually, I don’t think she ever was,” he spoke gently, taking a sip of his drink and breaking eye contact for what felt like the first time tonight. Oh no oh no oh no, you began to panic in your head. What did this woman do to him?  

“I once had an ex tell me they had cancer so I wouldn’t break up with them,” you offered, forcing a laugh and praying you could brighten up his mood again. Thankfully, it worked, bringing back the crinkles by his eyes that appeared whenever he smiled or laughed.

You breathed a sigh of relief when the rest of the night went smoothly. It was better than smooth actually, it felt easy and exciting. Harry made your heart sing and your stomach flutter. He was a perfect gentleman, walking you all the way home (even when he lived on the other side of the city) and even up to your apartment, insisting he needed to make sure you made it inside safe.

The pair of you were standing in front of your front door when he leaned in and pressed his blushed lips to yours. He tasted like the lime that sat on the rim of his drunk and smelled like shampoo and vanilla. Every hair on your body stood up on point and everywhere he touched you felt like your skin lit on fire; you never wanted this moment to end. He gently held your face and you could feel his lips turn into a smile as he pulled away, his beautiful green eyes meeting yours once again.

“I had a really good time tonight,” he breathed, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

“I think we should do this again,” you said, still catching the breath that he took away.

“I promise you’ll be hearing from me soon. I already have your number,” he chuckled, still beaming. You watched as he walked down the hallway away from you, winking and blowing you a kiss before turning the corner. As soon as you entered the apartment, you slid down your front door, dizzy from the haze he had created in your head. You couldn’t wait to see him again.

***

After that night, you couldn’t believe someone like him kept coming back to someone like you. You insisted you were too boring for someone who had such an incredible personality and background. Yet three months later, he was yours and you were his.

You spent almost all your nights together, crammed into one of your small New York City apartments, wrapped in each other’s arms and hypothetically solving the world’s problems. You had learned in this time that Harry was incredibly intelligent and well spoken, no matter how long it took him to get his words out due to his slow cadence. In your conversations, you had come to the agreement that most of the world’s problems could be solved with a little empathy and that green was definitely the best color.

Tonight you laid naked in his bed, your head resting just above your favorite butterfly, and played with his fingers as you listened to him speak about postmodernism and how it rocked the art world. You didn’t understand a thing he was going on about but you loved to hear him speak, his voice vibrating through his chest and how he pulled on his bottom lip when he was thinking. You scanned the studio apartment from his bed, trying to pay attention but losing that battle. The floor was littered with finished and unfinished paintings leaning up against the walls and you noticed one familiar face you had grown fond of was missing.

“Where did your painting of Amelia go?” you asked when he took a second to breathe during his diatribe.

“I sold it,” he said curtly.  You hadn’t talked much more about Amelia after that first night, the woman obviously being a sore spot, but you couldn’t help but wonder what happened.

“Oh, okay. I liked that painting a lot,” you spoke cautiously, trying not to hit whatever nerve you had previously.

“It was nice, but I think she should haunt someone else now,” he said with a sigh. Haunt?, you thought to yourself.

“H,” you began, rolling yourself off him to look him in the eye, “can I ask what happened with her?” You held your breath, afraid you might lose him to the heartbreak again.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s long gone.”

“Harry,” you lightly scolded him by using his full name which you rarely did, thinking back to when you agreed not to keep anything for each other. With a sigh, he began to speak.

“I was with her for a couple months last year and when I look back at it, it was really messy. We fought all the time and kept a lot from each other. But I had my rose colored glasses on and I would go as far as saying I was probably in love with her. I was even looking for engagement rings.” You felt a pang of jealousy within you at the idea of Harry loving anyone else. “That was until I found out that she already had a husband.”

Your heart broke for him after your initial shock, resting your hand on his warm cheek in an attempt to soothe him. He didn’t seem sad recounting the story or at the mention of her like he was before; he was now dealing with the remaining hurt of rejection.

“I painted her while I was still really mad,” he continued. “My original plan was to send it to her husband and tell him what had happened. But I decided that three lives didn’t need to be ruined instead of one. And then I was just kinda stuck with the painting. I thought selling it was a good way to get her out of my life and it’s more productive than lighting it on fire,” he finally said with a light chuckle.

A lot made sense all of a sudden. You now understood why Harry always got a little jealous when he saw other guys looking at you. He would loop an arm around your waist and press a kiss to your cheek while he stared them down. He thought you didn’t notice but you always did. You also understood why he was so open with you about how much he cared about you. It was a good thing you were equally as obsessed with him.

“I’m sorry, H. You didn’t deserve to go through all of that,” you said softly after a moment, unsure of what else you could offer.

“It’s okay. We grow from our past,” he shrugged. “And if I hadn’t painted her, I wouldn’t have found you,” he smiled sweetly, pulling you back into him and pressing his lips onto yours.

***

“Oh my goodness, what are you doing?” you giggled when Harry asked you to close your eyes.

“I have something to show you. Please close your eyes,” he asked again.

“What if I don’t want to close my eyes?” you teased, poking the dimple in his cheek caused by his cheeky grin. He rolled his eyes and began his plea again.

“Close your eyes, please. Do it.”

You gave in this time, closing your eyes and letting your heart flutter in anticipation. Harry knew you loved surprises and often took advantage of that fact. You felt him gently rest his cupped hands over your eyes, obviously not trusting you to not peak (he probably shouldn’t). He pressed himself to your back, urging you to make your way further into his apartment.

“Styles, if you let me walk into something, I swear to god,” you continued your giggling, overcome with excitement. Harry mumbled an ‘Oh, hush,’ in your ear before he stopped you both and lifted his hands away.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took it in. The painting was in Harry’s signature style, layered bright colors and varied textures across the canvas. Staring back was your own face, painted in a bright red monochrome with the exception of the color of your eyes that remained the same. You were posed with a bright smile that crinkled the skin by your eyes and you were wearing the red dress that you had worn that first night at the bar.

“Harry, oh my god. It’s so beautiful,” you managed to get out, still in shock.

“I know you don’t think you are, but are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t want anyone else in the world to be my muse.” You felt as if you could explode or melt with the amount of love you had for this man. You held him up on such a pedestal, and now you knew he did the same for you. “From the moment I saw you, I thought you were a work of art. So, I thought I’d actually make you into one.”

Your cheeks burned from the smile you couldn’t shake if you wanted to and you felt yourself get a little teary eyed. You felt as if you had spent the majority of your life thinking you were nothing special and just another person walking down the street. Harry made you feel like you were the center of the universe. You wanted to love yourself like Harry loved you; like you loved him.

“I love you,” you blurted, small tears rolling down your face, wiped away by Harry’s talented hands.

“I love you too,” he murmured softly, pulling your body to his. “I’ll always have your face hung up high in my gallery.”

There she is!! I hope you enjoyed it!! You can let me know what you think here!! :)