#its just her red tee underneath

[yamada-ryo]

Lv 0 -> Lv 1 -> Lv 2 boymoder

[teastyun]

˚➶ ｡˚ love letter to my nemesis (NSFW)

the original sexual tension between you and your nemesis Abby drastically changed into an uncomfortable and unbearable one... who knew that hooking up with your arrogant and rude leader in your dorm would lead into you two avoiding each other completely?

after you finished putting on your uniform, you exit your dorm and head straight over to the community bathroom to wash yourself as quickly as you can, while you try to avoid any clumsy actions caused by your sleepiness. you're running unusually late and your anxiety causes you to miss your toothbrush as you try to squirt toothpaste on it, frustrating you even further.

frustrated by Abby's usual but unnecessary teasing that night, you grab her arm and pull her out of the hallway she teasingly catcalled you as your two walked past each other into different directions. you're unsure of what room you just entered with Abby's muscular arm gripped by your hand, but its door closed and only a small red light above the door accentuated Abby in front of you. pressing her against the door, you watch her eyes drilling into yours, drifting down to your lips as her breath becomes undone. in contrast to her teasing catcalling, her hands carefully touched your waist. before you know it, you two are heavily making out against a door with your arms linked around her neck, moaning and whimpering into your kiss, before she picks you up by your thighs to put you on any surface nearby.

last night you and your friends went to an annual party hosted by the WLF regime, where you met everyone who was off-duty. you and your friends had a great time dancing, singing and playing games as you consumed a few beverages you rarely get to drink in your free time. looking up into the mirror in front of you as you brush your teeth, you notice a hickey peeking from underneath your black tee. horrified of what's visible, you quickly finish off your bathroom session to head back into your dorm to grab a jacket to cover up any more bruises before you finally head off to your shift.

caging her in with your legs around her hips, your head falls back as you moan from the pleasure of her sucking and biting several spots on your neck and shoulder. your hand wanders into her blonde hair, pulling on her braid for her to stop, so you could continue kissing her silly, before your mouth wanders down her jawline to press kisses against all of her facial features. you grind your hips into her crotch as a shudder runs through her body. lifting your shirt over your head, her hands find your braless breasts and knead them as she kisses you hungrily. she bites your lower lip as both her hands pinch your nipples, almost making you scream in an unlocked room with you and your known nemesis on you.

arriving at today's station, you notice everyone lined up and listening to the person in front of them speaking. as you got closer and followed the other's line-up, you see Abby telling about today's agenda as she sees you for a bare second.

breaking the kiss, her light eyes pierce yours deeply with hunger and lust, making you press your chest into her hands again. she squeezes them for one final time. her other hand slips down to the zipper of your jeans, opening it quickly, as she bites down on your nipple. you choke on the sudden sensation of her biting your breast and teasing your clit through your thin underwear with thick fingers damped by your wet underwear.

it starts to rain, dampening your thick uniform and messing up the quick hairstyle you managed to do on your way to your station. nonetheless, you follow whatever Abby is saying, but you can't stop remembering every single thing you two did last night at the sound of her voice.

the moans would escape your lips as Abby starts fucking you beneath your underwear, where her palm grazes your clit so teasingly. she tells you to shut, so you moan louder to tease her concern, but she quickly shuts you up by kissing you roughly, eating up any moans that were supposed to leave your mouth as she fucks you harder and harder against the sweet spot deep inside of you. you see stars as your first orgasm that night fully overrides your senses.

you observed Abby as she assigned positions to the soldiers in front of her. tucked neatly away, her hair looks newly braided. a few flyaways curl from the rain around her face, which she pushed away with her free hand as the other held today's damp green notes. there are no signs of the lack of sleep you two got last night, except for the redness beneath her freckles. finishing her rant, everyone went to their assigned vehicles along their mates, leaving you in confusion. wait, what was today's job? fuck, you didn't listen.

screaming as you see stars, she doesn't stop her fingers' movements, but she abruptly stops kissing you to tell you again to be quiet. you're too blissed out to form any words at the second, so you grab her forearm to stop her. opening your eyes, you ask her to take you to your room, but you need a second to feel your legs again before you two head to your empty dorm.

looking around for any clues on where to go, you see Abby walking up to you with another stack of paper. you feel your heart racing in your chest as she got closer and closer. without saying anything, she hands you the stack of paper, which contains several tasks for your job inside the stadium today. you got the position where you help out in any required station, meaning you're mostly on your own for today, helping out at the armoury, military mechanics and feeling stations. she finally looks into your eyes, seemingly searching for any hints of objection on your side. too shy to communicate in any way, you take the papers and head straight to your first area, away from her and the rain, working until late in the afternoon as your shift ends.

entering your dorm, she pulls you in for another kiss by your waist. this time she kisses you delicately, almost as if she never wants it to stop by letting her hands cup your face so tenderly and sincere. in contrast to her kiss, she firmly presses you against your desk with a view over the lid stadium. she breaks the kiss by pulling off your shirt over your head again and turns you around to face the big window. leaving several kisses down your spine, she tells you how desperately she needs to fuck you from behind and how everyone should see you fucked prettily by your own leader. moaning at the thought, you support yourself on the desk as you feel your jeans and underwear go off in one go, the slick of your heat sticking against your inner thighs. you hear her breathing become more audible before she massages your butt with her firm hands, teasing your core as she got closer and closer. you whine at her teasing and she tells you to be patient, remembering that the night is still young and that she wants to fuck you in every single spot in your dorm tonight. her other hand cups your face, so she could peck your lips before she sucks and bites hickeys on your shoulder as her fingers start fucking you from a different angle this time. it's even better than before, leaving you a moaning mess, crying her name over and over again as she speeds up her fingers inside of you and teases your nipple with the other hand. your second orgasm took you by surprise, making your arms betray you in supporting you. Abby holds you up to fuck you through your second orgasm, telling you how good you are for her and how much she loves hearing you scream her name. it was already your second orgasm in such. short amount of time that night, and Abby made sure you two would have several more until dawn was visible at your windows.

opening the lock to your dorm, you notice a folded peace of paper laying on your dorm's greyish floor. it's the green notes from earlier, but the back of it seems to be handwritten on. someone slipped it through the little crack beneath your door;

dear y/n, hello y/n,

Fuck, I sound so cringe writing you a letter on the back of my notes. As you can tell, I'm not gifted with words of affirmation or whatever people express in any type of letter to someone you have a deep complicated connection with. Anyway, I'd like you to know that I don't regret what happened last night and I'm sorry for leaving you alone this morning. I panicked and left as fast as I can to prevent any rejection awkwardness between us. Guess where we are now. I hope I can make it up to you somehow. Fuck, I can't stop thinking about how beautiful you look just standing there in the rain as you looked around as everyone went on. And shit, the pretty sounds you make when I fucked you and the gloss of your lips everytime we kissed. I can't believe I'm telling you all of this. I'd love to see you again and I hope I didn't complicate things between us with this letter.

I'm in my dorm at 8pm in case you wanna talk about it, Manny is out with his cook weather chick. And if you do, make sure to call in sick for tomorrow. You won't be able to walk.

truly yours, Abby

[martiniblues]

she looks so perfect ; ellie williams

pairing gf!ellie x fem!reader

synopsis ellie comes back from a late night patrol to be greeted by you already waiting for her. luckily for her, you happen to be in a pair of her boxers.

genre so so much fluff because i’m sick and twisted, kinda suggestive but nothing explicit, mentions of food.

wc 0.8k

note this is inspired by she looks so perfect by 5SOS (aka the best song ever)

“ellie?” your voice waltzed into her ears as she stepped into your place. kicking off her beaten-up converse, smelling the sweet smell of pancakes wafting through the air.

“yeah, it’s me!” her mood instantly peaked at the sound of your voice and the soft music you decided to play as you cooked.

ellie tiptoed down the hall, wanting to observe you before you noticed her. you always called her a "creep" jokingly, of course, but she just loved watching you live in your own little world.

whether it was when you were so caught up in the book you were reading that your face would shift into the silliest expressions or when you danced softly with yourself as you got ready for the day, ellie loved it more than anything.

like right now, you stood in the center of your kitchen, mixing bowl in hand, swaying and humming along with the song that played from your phone. an oversized band tee hung loosely off your shoulder while a pair of red checkered boxers hugged your hips.

she recognized them immediately; they were the same ones she wore a few nights ago. she wondered where they had gone, but now her question was answered.

as you turned with the music, you caught sight of ellie leaning against the door frame, smirking with her arms crossed. “jesus, els you almost gave me a heart attack!” you clutched the bowl to your chest in fright. “we literally spoke thirty seconds ago,” she argued, walking behind you to wrap her arms around your waist and bury her face in your neck.

“mmmmm” she mumbled something you couldn't quite understand, feeling her lips move against your skin with each undefinable word. her cold hands ran over and under your shirt, outlining each and every curve and dip of your body. you continued swaying with the music silently, not trying to pry her into talking about her outing. you knew by the time breakfast was done, ellie would talk your ear off about the “stupid shit” jessie did or the “motherfuckers” she killed.

while one arm wrapped around your stomach and laid its palm to your side, ellie’s other hand traveled lower and closer to your hip. “and when did you get these? they look oddly familiar,” her thumb looped under the elastic band and pulled so the fabric would lightly snap against your skin, teasingly.

you flushed instantly at her words and raunchy actions. “they should be familiar since they're yours, els” you smiled. you and ellie always wore each other's clothes, an unspoken vow that the two of you were always together, even if it meant not physically.

ellie continued running her blunt nails against the fabric, dipping her curious fingers underneath the bottom to grab your ass or travel along the lace of your underwear.

“els, these are gonna burn if you keep distracting me,” you scolded her, turning around and pulling her hands off your body. “go sit, and i’ll bring you some in a sec." you punctuated your request with a kiss to her freckled cheek. in reply, she just huffed and sulked away like a grumpy child. it wasn’t a shock to you, ellie was always grumpy before the afternoon.

you plated the food for both you and ellie and practically skipped on your way to the table. you placed ellie’s plate in front of her while she played some games on her phone. before sitting, you kissed the top of her head and ruffled her auburn hair, which finally made her peel her eyes away from the game and notice the food ahead of her. “hey…” she whined, but still smiled as you sat beside her. before you could get settled, ellie reached out, grabbing your smooth calves with her rough hands to lay your legs across her thighs.

“missed me, huh?” you tilted your head at her clinginess. its not that ellie was never clingy, but typically, when she came back from a late night out, she wanted to do nothing but sleep.

“of course i missed you, my pretty girl.” she continued to stuff her mouth, rubbing your leg with her free hand.

“plus, if i would have known you’d be in this, i would have ran home.” she eyed you to emphasize her boxers, which rolled up higher on your thighs. “maybe i should just steal all your boxers, huh?” you leaned closer to her, completely disregarding the half-eaten pancake drowning in syrup on your plate.

“that sounds good,” she whispered even in the private walls of your place, grabbing your face and pulling her lips against yours. her soft strands of hair, which fell from the small knot at the back of her head, tickled your cheeks. a bloom of warmth sprouting in your chest at the feeling of her lips on yours.

ellie could be gone for an hour and when she came back, she would kiss you as if she had gone off to war for months.

you reached up to run your hands through the hair she left down that barely touched her shoulders, making her sigh contently. she pulled your chair closer to her, not breaking apart once.

before you could pounce on her, she pulled back with wide eyes. “what is it?” you grabbed her face, trying to figure out what had gotten her so bewildered. she grabbed your hand firmly and pulled it down to rest on your knee, which still lay across hers.

“i just remembered the stupidest fucking thing jessie did yesterday,” she laughed before beginning her tangent.

note this might be too niche but modern!ellie would DEFINITELY listen to 5SOS like i know she loves michael’s hair and is a sounds good feels good enthusiast!!!! she would totally learn songs on her guitar LIKEEE DO YOU SEE MY VISION!!!

[bubuslutty]

alt!gf x comics nerd!könig

Imagine an awkward comic book nerd König with an alt!gf way out of his league (according to him).

He works part time at a comic book store when he first meets her, he's in a corner arranging comics and manga when she walks in and his eyes widen behind his messy ginger long hair.

She's the prettiest girl he's ever fucking seen in his life and he can't take his eyes off of her. And so do the rest of the clients and workers in the shop.

She's wearing a tiny black baby tee with Miles Morales' Spider Logo on its front, the tee was tight and it looked like she didn't wear anything underneath it, and it was very short, that if she kept stretching her arms above her head too many times to reach for comics in the higher shelves, her shirt is bound to ride up to expose her nipples. Her stomach all down to a few inches below her belly button were naked, and a pair of tiny jean shorts hugged her waist and ass.

Then there was the jewelry, the chains, the arm warmers, gloves, leg warmers, mismatched socks with a pair of white and red Jordans, the headphones, hair clips and cute earrings that tied her outfit together.

She looked like a doll, like those pretty girls you'd see on Pinterest (König doesn't know that, though, bold of you to assume he uses Pinterest).

And König? Well, he was wearing a green t-shirt with the store's logo on the back and front, with a white long sleeved shirt under it, paired with a pair of loose ripped jeans and we'll worn white trainers. And finally, a black mask covering the lower half of his face.

She walked straight to the Marvel shelf, looking around with her hands crossed over her chest while humming until she gasped and got her hands on a comic with Spiderman 2099 plastered on the cover.

König tried his best to stop staring like a creep but she was just so hypnotising, he wanted to keep looking at her, maybe ask her name, what she likes to read–

Don't get ahead of yourself, König, have you seen her and seen yourself?

König's shoulders slumped as he watched her flip through the comic with a smile on her glossy lips, and his heart jumped when she met his eyes.

Shit.

König internally panicked and turned his head towards the shelf he was organizing and adding in new comics to be sold while his heart beat quickly in his chest. He gulped and his hand trembled when he heard shuffling and footsteps getting louder towards him over the sound of some random anime opening from the speakers in the shop.

"Excuse me?"

König tried not to flinch and slowly turned around and looked down at the owner of the voice, a bead of sweat running down the side of his face when he was face to face with the same girl he was gawking at.

"Yes?" König replied, masking his nervousness with a monotone voice.

"Can you get me a comic from the top shelf? I can't reach.." She asked, looking him over not so subtly and tilted her head to the side, adding a small, "Please?" at the end of her sentence.

"Where?" König asked and her eyes lit up. She turned around and led him straight to the shelf and told him the comic she was after as König easily reached for it and handed it over.

"Thank you," She smiled and took the comic from his bigger hand, their hands brushing as he kept watching her through his hair.

"Do you read marvel comics?" She asked and König was surprised, what is she doing?

Making conversation with him?

But girls usually got intimidated by his build and his personality.

König cleared his throat and shoved both of his hands in the pockets of his loose ripped jeans, "Sometimes."

"Do you have a character you like reading about? You don't have to answer if you have work to do, by the way! I'm just curious and want to read more comics about different characters!" She said, toying with the Lego spiderman keychain hanging off her belt hoop, pulling her shorts a bit lower and König looked away when more of her lacey red panties were visible.

"No it's alright. I have time. I like reading about Venom and Moon Knight. And you? Who do you like reading about?..." König answered, his voice not wavering, not even once even if he was screaming in his head.

He hopes he won't scare her away due to the lack of emotion and interest in his voice, but he was internally nervous and that's the only way he knows how to hide it.

But it seemed like the pretty girl wasn't phased nor intimidated by König's tone of voice, or how he literally covered her in his shadow.

"I really like Moon Knight! And Venom too! But obviously, Miles Morales' Spiderman is my favourite…" She excitedly told him and pointed at her chest, where Miles' graffiti Logo was.

"What's your name, by the way?" She quickly asked, and König was a bit overwhelmed.

"König." He answered without thinking and blinking, staring at her with his pale blue eyes.

"Hey, König." She giggled and told him her name as she hugged the comics to her chest.

König didn't know what to say except give her an awkward nod.

"Nice to meet you. I'll go pay for these. And uh, thanks for the help." She said, biting her lower lip and fluttering her pretty eyelashes at him.

"No worries." He said and stepped aside so she could make her way to the till.

König was left buzzing and slightly breathless, he blinked and turned around to face a shelf with Batman runs to compose himself while she paid for her comics. Then he felt a small tap on his back and turned around.

"Sorry I just wanted to give you this." She said while holding a hair band in her hand.

König stared down at her hand without saying anything then back up at her face.

"It's for your hair…" She said in a small voice and König didn't say anything, just stared at her.

Then she coughed, "I just thought– I'm so sorry for overstepping, I'll go now."

König moved without thinking and held her wrist, making her eyes widen like a deer caught in the headlight.

"Thanks." He said and took the hairband, making quick work of tying his hair in a manbun, and now she could see more of his face, his pale eyes, eyebrows, freckles and small scars.

She smiled a bit and gave him a nod, "Bye, now."

"Bye." König said, smiling behind his mask.

[godblooded]

jesus christ bruce for once for fucking once can you just do what i’m asking without fucking making me explain myself? i just -- look after holls. can you just fucking do it? this fucking once, stop asking.

when she looks up at him his whole body is moving. the armor is sleek, black, perfectly so. around him flow tendrils and tendrils, moving and slithering. (he isn’t in the suit. he’s wearing a nirvana tee and jeans. he isn’t in the suit.) his eyes are white-blue and they don’t glow, but their vicious set peers at her, holds her whole. she’s going to be sick. the world is all glow-worms and colors like they float out from where they are. the cowl’s ears are knife-sharp. (he’s not wearing the suit.)

holly’s face has no definition to speak of. it’s all waves and ever-changing geometry. she’s trying to push the giant penny, like she always tries to do. she’s nothing but a blur of gold in selina’s view.

she doesn’t know what she’s been drugged with, but it’s fucking nasty. her eyes are burning, her skin is burning. that bite mark at her shoulder’s nearly healed, but the urge to scratch at it is almost overwhelming. bruce reaches out to touch her --

she hits him right across the face, clips his jaw hard, leaves three red marks where her nails connect. it’s horror that she feels when she realizes with her claws on she would’ve really hurt him. her fingers curl up into her palm and start scratch scratch scratching just light. her temples are beating. her mouth is dry and when she tries to breathe in it feels like her throat is cracking.

lina!!

she freezes when holly collides with her in a hug, a customary goodbye that’s always theirs. her heart hammers so hard in her chest it chisels its way through her ribcage. she can’t find the wherewithal to see, not really, so she presses both her palms to holly’s face and kisses her forehead for a moment so lingering she doesn’t even know if time keeps moving. she tells her bruce wanted to hang out, asked her specifically if she would watch nightmare on elm street with him. she lies so easily. a car backfires somewhere aboveground and she almost jumps out of her skin before turning on a heel to retreat quickly, clicking all the while.

-----------

she’s lost track of time. it’s going on hour three of this delirium, and this terrifying confusion heaps and heaps on in piles. she paces the apartment, tries to stop blinking the blood-splatter from her eyes, slowly going bloodshot themselves. her pupils are absolutely enormous, black discs swallowing gentle brown. there’s a hand underneath the couch that belongs to a child when she looks to the floor and it shoots under and out of sight, dropping the cat to her bruised knees to look. (there’s nothing there.)

she doesn’t know what’s in her system. she thinks she’s waiting for it to wear off, but a looming paranoid shadow makes her reluctant to even speak to anyone. colorless, she knows, odorless, she knows. gaseous -- that’s the only reason she’s reacting this way. she hadn’t ingested anything, but something she’d breathed in is the culprit. her palms are red, red, red where she’s dug blunt nails in enough to viciously irritate her pale skin. that bite mark is dog-eared with angry pink where it was nearly closed, scraped at furiously by her hands. pain is the only thing that makes sense when the world throws itself into reverse.

there’s a differentiation in sound outside. noise changes. something isn’t right, something is wrong, something is right-wrong. the front door is suddenly violently assaulted by a series of slamming blows, and the sound of a voice bellowing warps into a senseless uproar.

(it’s not. the door isn’t moving. there’s no sound coming from it at all.)

but the cat swears there’s a man’s voice growling through the doorjamb and she finds she throws herself backwards to the floor, skittering away in a frantic attempt at escape. it’s silent, and then -- another BANG BANG BANG.

LINA.

she presses her hands to her ears and goes quiet.

[sunflowerwinds]

make you mine | 2 | e.w

summary: at the frat party, you and ellie get separated. you find the intoxicated girl on her own and take her home. in a drunken state, ellie’s mouth moves faster than her mind can comprehend and admits a few secrets to you. you just wonder if she’ll be in the same when she’s sober.

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

word count: 3.9K

contains: sister’s best-friend!ellie, underage drinking, drunk!ellie, reader taking care of drunk!ellie, somehow EVEN MORE tension, slight fluff

a/n: just fair warning! part three might take a bit longer to come out but please, enjoy this <3

FREE PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK | DO NOT BUY TLOU2 REMASTERED

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

You were kind of bummed that you weren’t able to drink tonight but you’d rather be the DD than Ellie walking or skating home alone at night. You blow your mom one more kiss before secretly flipping your sister off when she looks back down at her Kindle. Hailee held up her own with a tired scoff and trudging back to her room.

God, what was up her ass today? She didn’t talk about her date when she got back so you only had to assume the date with Vincent wasn’t what she made it out to be. You, of course, didn’t want to push her into lashing out so you were letting her take her time.

Once you got to Ellie’s place, you watched her walk over to the passenger's side of the car. Though it was dim in your car, you noticed her eyes dragging over your outfit. It wasn’t anything too extravagant; a black sweetheart top with your favorite pair of shorts and a pair of black and white sneakers. You glance down at your outfit for a moment before greeting her with a smile.

“Don’t you look pretty,” Ellie said teasingly, shutting the door with a smirk.

You shake your head but you can’t help how hot your face got.

“Yeah, you look good too, Els.”

Good was an understatement but you didn’t want to make it obvious that you’d let her take you in the backseat. She was wearing a red and black flannel that had the sleeves ripped off and a dark gray tee shirt underneath. Her hair was in its usual half-up half-down look, a few strands falling into her freckled face.

You glance down at her bandaged arm, wondering how she even looked good with that on.

Ellie put in the directions and argued how she was the passenger so she had the aux. You reluctantly allowed her to blast a mix of 70s Rock & 2000s Pop. You guys didn’t have much to talk about so you enjoyed the mix of Ellie’s playlist until you arrived at the frat.

You like Jesse but frat houses seemed like someplace you would never willingly attend. Ellie hopped out of your car and walked over to the driver’s side to open the door for you.

“Oh, thank you,” you toss your purse over your shoulder and send Ellie a teasing smile.

Ellie nodded with a ‘mmhmm’ as if it was nothing. She shut the door once she saw you grab your keys to lock your car.

Walking through the front door was an eyesore, to say the least. People were chugging from the kegs, guys desperately trying to flirt with women who were insanely out of their league, a few make-out sessions here and there, and people dancing to the 2000s Rap blasting over the speakers. The lights were flashing variations of blue, red, and purple.

“Hey, Ellie!” You faintly hear over the music and notice Jesse walking up to the two of you.

He pushed through the crowd and Ellie greeted him back. Jesse furrowed his brows at you to which you simply smiled back.

“Who’s this?” He pointed at you, his words slurring ever so slightly.

You speak up and tell Jesse your name to which he mutters again to himself. Jesse’s jaw drops as he runs a hand over his mop of black hair.

“Shit, Hailee’s sister. I’m so sorry.” Jesse apologized before holding up his beer can that you hadn't noticed before. “Here. You can have the rest of my beer.”

“Yeah, no, thanks. I’m driving tonight so no drinks for me.” You wince at the thought of drinking out of the same beer as him.

“Ellie, c’mon then. Let’s get you a drink.” Jesse didn't seem to care that much about your presence but you didn’t mind.

Ellie glanced at you with raised brows and held her hand out to you. You look down at her open palm and take it reluctantly. Her palms were a bit rough which was unsurprising but you shamelessly enjoyed it. She dragged you through the crowd of hot and sweaty bodies. One of her palms was resting on her bicep as people seemed to pay no mind to the three of you pushing through. Jesse stumbled a bit as you made your way to the kitchen.

“Alright so there's seltzers, hard lemonades, hard teas, Jell-O shots with vodka, and if you ask, we can make some cocktails for you,” Jesse patted another guy on the back who was standing in the kitchen.

You assumed it was one of his frat bros. You spotted a few sodas on the back wall of the kitchen before Ellie pointed to the fridge.

“I’ll just grab a seltzer, man. I’ll do shots and shit later.” Ellie leaned down to grab one of the white cans and popped it open.

As you watch Ellie take her first sip of the drink, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around to see whoever is touching you, a sour expression already plastered on your face.

You were relieved to see Dina, one of you and your sister's mutual friends.

“Hi, guys!” Dina shouts over the music.

You smile at Dina and give her a tight hug as you release Ellie’s hand finally. Dina chuckles and hugs you back with her free hand that wasn’t holding a red solo cup.

“Hey, D! You look so good!” You raise your voice as you step back to look at her outfit.

She grinned at you and thanked you for the compliment. She didn’t hesitate to gush over your top, asking you where you got it. Dina seemed to glance at Ellie, who was standing right next to you, mid-conversation with a look you couldn't quite recognize. Almost like they were communicating telepathically.

Weird.

After you started talking to and catching up with Dina, Ellie seemed to be dragged away by Jesse. You knew you felt like something was different at some point when Dina was talking about how she and Jesse were in a ‘talking’ stage. You glanced to your right and to your surprise, you didn’t see Ellie’s brooding figure.

How long had she been gone? You and Dina had only been talking for about 15 minutes. You were sure Jesse was probably nagging her about when she would be selling again.

She’s a big girl. She should be fine.

You and Dina ended up sticking together for most of the night, dancing and playing beer pong where Dina took your drinks so she was about 8 times more drunk than when you first walked into the large frat house.

The hours seemed to blend all together as you actually had a good time. You were missing Ellie for a majority of it but Dina helped with being a good distraction.

Next thing you knew, it was 1:00 AM and your exhaustion was beginning to hit you. Ellie was nowhere in sight and you were about ready to leave.

“Hey, D, have you seen Ellie anywhere?” You grab the girl's hand to tug her slightly towards you.

“Shit, I don’t know. Jesse said she had a lot to drink and said she had to pee. Maybe… outside? Oh, wait no, the bathroom, yeah.” Dina slurred to you before giving you a soft, dazed smile. “I love you, dude.”

You chuckle and search for someone to take care of Dina before making your way around to the bathrooms. You mentally prepare to find the worst if you accidentally open the door to one of the bedrooms. The loud music began to fade as you moved through the scattered amount of people in the hallways, asking if they knew where the bathroom was.

Most of them slurred nonsense so you were on your own at that point. You ended up hearing a few familiar groans come from behind one of the doors that you were about to pass due to the tacky warning sign above it.

You place your hand on the handle and knock a few times before you hear Ellie call out: “occupied!” Another pained groan leaves her mouth after that.

Worried for her, you twist the cold handle and thankfully it is open. The sight was… unexpected. Ellie wasn’t even on the toilet. She was lying in the surprisingly clean tub, her inked arm draped over her eyes while the other wrapped one hung over the side.

“Els? Are you okay?” You ask carefully, shutting the door behind you and locking it. You set your purse down on the sink countertop and walk over to the girl.

Ellie lifts her arm to peek at you and lets out a sigh. She smacks her lips and shakes her head.

“I don’t… know. I’m drunk, I think.” Ellie’s words were slow and dragging on which told you all you needed to know.

“That’s okay, Els. Have you been drinking water?” You kneel down reluctantly and push her hair out of her face, watching her red and glazed eyes stare at you wide.

“Nope. Jesse was tellin’ me that they didn’t have any.” Ellie smacked her dry lips again, rubbing her eyes with her middle finger and thumb.

You roll your eyes and make a mental note to smack Jesse when you see him.

“You think you can walk?” You hum as you trace her tattoo, the black ink blending in with her pale skin.

Ellie didn’t answer for a moment. Her green eyes seemed to soften the more you spoke, her head tilting slightly. Your brows furrow at her silence but you blamed it on how wasted she was.

“I think it’s time to go home.” Ellie chuckled weakly, grabbing on either side of the tub to shakily stand up in the tub.

You shoot up on your feet to take Ellie’s slightly larger hands in yours. They were warm and a bit clammy. You’ve never really seen Ellie as intoxicated as she was at the moment. She had drinks here and there but never got fucking drunk.

Ellie carefully stepped up and out of the tub, her grip tightening in yours. You watched her feet to be sure she was able to stand on her own, slowly releasing her grip. She held her palms out as she stood upright to seemingly help herself balance.

“You okay? You got it?” You softly ask her, holding your own hands out just in case.

“Yeah. I’m good. I think I’ll need help going down the stairs. I might trip and bust my ass. Again.” Ellie snorts at the end of her sentence, looking at you hooded and glazed over.

You can’t help but chuckle too and nod to yourself that this was the more open side of her that you were going to see. You pick up your bag and toss it over your shoulder, checking out how you look in the mirror.

Your mascara was smudged and your makeup was creasing underneath your eyes. You huff and wipe over the lifted concealer, practically wiping off all of it. It didn’t matter much. You were going home soon after this.

“It must be nice, y’know?” Ellie spoke up, leaning lazily against the door.

“What do you mean, Els?” You hum.

“To see what you see every day. Just… wow.” Ellie blew out a soft whistle of disbelief, staring at you through the mirror.

She’s drunk, you kept telling yourself.

“Alright, c’mon now,” you clear your throat as you hold a hand out for Ellie to take.

Ellie blinked slowly as she reached for your palm with a small grin, waiting for you to open the door. You grabbed onto the handle and made sure Ellie was able to stand and walk before leaving the frat bathroom. She was borderline pressing up against your backside as you led her through the crowd once again, looking everywhere to find Dina and Jesse.

From across the wide space of the living room, you could spot both Dina and Jesse making out against a wall.

Well, good for them.

This eased you as you practically dragged Ellie through the crowd, muttering ‘excuse me’ and ‘thank you’ as people reluctantly stepped out of your way. You kept glancing behind you to make sure Ellie was okay as you tried to speed-walk out the front door. She kept up for the most part but stumbled on her loose laces to her everyday Converse a few times.

You refrained from rolling your eyes at the sound of a few girls trying to stop Ellie to ask why she was leaving so early. Ellie responded with half-ass slurred responses before for the most part focusing on not tripping and eating shit.

Once you pushed back into the cool air outside, you felt like you could breathe again. It felt so humid and hot in the air throughout the entirety of that house. You managed to get Ellie to your car, rummaging through your purse with your free hand to unlock it.

“Need any help getting in, Els?” You turn to her, noticing how quiet she was being.

Her eyes blankly stared into yours as she smacked her dry lips with a shake of her head. She was insanely gone. How much had she had to drink?

“Don’t worry about me, baby. I got this.” Ellie waved her hand like a scoff and reached for the passenger’s side door.

Baby. You shake off the chill that runs down your back.

“Ellie—”

You cut yourself off as she already was tugging the door open. She gradually sat herself down onto the seat with a long sigh, glancing at you with a very obviously drunk grin.

“I’m all ready to go home.” She nodded to you, shuffling more into the seat.

You snorted a laugh and mouthed an ‘okay’ to yourself as you walked around to the drivers side. You hopped into the vehicle, glancing at Ellie as you started your car. She still just would stare at you like she wanted to say something but couldn’t.

Ellie was borderline silent the entire ride back to her house. You kept peeking over at her when you felt her stare at red lights quickly looking away, fiddling with the hair behind her ear.

So far, drunk Ellie seems to be shy and quiet. Not at all what you were expecting.

Once you arrived in the dirt driveway of the familiar house, you noticed the porch light was still on. You immediately felt bad as you knew Joel probably left it on for when you brought Ellie home. You help the freckled girl out of the vehicle with both hands in yours.

When she stood upright, she blinked harshly and almost lost her balance. You mutter a curse as you help her sluggishly walk to the front door. You reach for the knob and twist it slowly. Just as you predicted, Joel left the front door open for Ellie.

You peeked into the cozy home, seeing no sign of the grumpy man. Ellie trips over the entrance mat with a soft ‘shit’ but catches herself covering her own mouth as she realizes she’s home now. The hinges to the front door creak quietly as you shut and lock it.

“How was your night?” Ellie randomly spoke up as the two of you walked down the dark hallway to her bedroom.

You hum as softly as possible as you think about it for a second. It wasn’t the worst night you had. You did wish you spent more time with Ellie while she was still sober but you weren’t going to tell her that.

“Good, Els. Thanks for inviting me.” You whisper, glancing at her through the darkness.

Her eyes soften at your words as she nods slowly.

“That’s good. I was scared you were gonna be fuckin’ pissed at me.” Ellie slurred out, blinking as slow as ever.

Your brows furrowed as you arrived at her chipping door. You turned the cold knob to push the door open to reveal the clean-clutter of Ellie’s bedroom. You’ve only been in this room a few times and you swear it somehow manages to be neat and messy at the same time.

“What do you mean?” You ask her.

Ellie stared at you as you turned on her small lamp on her bedside table. Her eyes widened ever so slightly at your question, instantly avoiding your gaze.

“Well, I left you alone with Dina. Jesse fuckin’ keep sayin’ to take more shots and drinks and shit. I kept my distance because… fuck, I couldn’t stand to be around you.” Ellie spilled out before covering her face with her palms.

You freeze. You felt a pang of hurt at her words, tightening your grip on the strap of your purse.

All you could get out was: “What?”

Ellie looked up from her palms noticing your tense stature and she let out a groan at her own stupidity.

“Fuck, wait, no,” Ellie hend her tattooed arm out at you as she tried to stutter out the right words in her intoxicated. “That’s— No, I mean being around you… I can’t stand it. I can’t take it.”

You stare at her, not easing up one bit.

“Can’t take what?” You pressed.

“No, no,” Ellie murmured to herself then looking at you with glazed eyes. “Hailee would kill me. She would kill me if she knew.”

“Ellie, knew what?” You were more curious now.

Ellie sucked in a deep, long breath as she leaned against her bedroom door. The soft crinkle of the astronaut poster on her, the hum of the AC and your thumping heart were the only sounds you could hear.

“If she knew what I think about when I see you. How much it hurts and how guilty I feel for thinking that way about you.”

Ellie’s voice was desperate amongst her stammered speech. Your heart was in your throat as you stared at Ellie’s scrunched up nose and eyebrows. You couldn't tell how true this was. Her intoxicated distress seemed like it was genuine.

You always heard drunk words are sober thoughts. Ellie’s flushed pale cheeks and glazed over eyes reminded you that she probably wouldn’t remember this in the morning.

At least, hopefully not. You couldn’t form a full sentence at her confessions right now.

“Ellie—” You began but Ellie’s soft sigh cut you off.

“I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to say all of that. I just wanted you to know that I never ever hate being around you.” Ellie cleared her throat as she blinked slowly, standing upright shakily. “I actually like being around you too much.”

You couldn’t form a full sentence at her confessions right now. What the fuck was going on? You step forward and take her clammy palm in yours to lead her to her slightly unmade bed. Ellie let herself get dragged by you and plop down onto her bed with a hum.

“I like being around you too, Els. Really.” You tell her softly, sending her a gentle smile in hopes she would be able to calm herself down.

Ellie somehow blushed even more at your reciprocated words. Her lengthy thumb traces the back of your hand as she gulps, taking in how tender you were behaving towards her.

“You’re not just saying that?” She mumbled, avoiding your eye-line.

“God, no. I always like when you’re around the house. Hailee loves you.” You throw in the mention of your sister because you’re just an idiot.

“And how do you feel about me?” Ellie’s breath hitched as she looked up with hopeful eyes.

You wish you could blurt it out. How every time she comes over every bit of you wishes she was coming over to see you. It was selfish and so fucking stupid.

But she was everything and more to you.

“How about I tell you in the morning, Els? When you’re feeling better, okay?” You tell her with a small grin, hoping that was enough.

It stung to see Ellie’s eyes droop with sadness, clearly thinking that meant that you didn’t have feelings for her. You didn’t want to spill your heart out when she may not even remember it in the morning. But Ellie had no intention of arguing with you.

She nodded slowly, looking down at her sweaty and liquor drenched clothes.

“Can you, uh, get me a shirt to sleep in, please?” Ellie asked softly.

You hum a ‘yes’ as you stand up to go over to her dresser across the room. You opened the second one down from the top to grab a plain black tank top for her to sleep in. You turn around to place them on the bed when you see Ellie trying to tug off her black skinny jeans. Her back is flat against her comforter, grunting softly as she weakly kicks them to her ankles.

“Els, stop. I got you.” You chuckle as you kneel on one knee to take them off of her legs and toss them into her laundry hamper by her dresser.

Ellie was laying in just a pair of white boxer briefs and t-shirt. She sat up to peel off her shirt to reveal her lightly toned stomach and black sports bra. She lets out a sigh of relief at the sticky feeling finally leaving her body.

“I can turn around so you can….” You trailed off, glancing down at her sports bra and clearing your throat.

Ellie didn’t seem to care that much as she started to tug off her sports bra before you could even turn around completely. You excuse yourself from the room to go and grab a bucket from the laundry room, Tylenol and a cup of water. When you came back, Ellie was faced down into her bed. Her eyes were shut as heavy and slow breaths left her lips.

“Alright, Els, I’m gonna go. I’ll see you, okay? Get some rest tomor—”

“Wait,” Ellie opened one eye to peek at you, “you’re leaving?”

You suck in a deep breath before questioning: “Do you want me to stay?”

“Please?” Ellie whispers before she turns over to the other side so that her back is facing you.

As you stare at her freckled back and the black tank top clinging to her toned skin, you think of the conversation that could ensue tomorrow morning. Part of you wanted to run out of here, hop in your truck and pretend that you never heard not one single confession. The other part wanted to sleep in her sheets and have that talk tomorrow morning and have it lead to something good.

Fuck it.

You hesitantly send a quick text to your mom that you were staying over at Ellie and Joel’s. You click off the lamp and set your purse on top of her dresser. You glance at her shadowy figure as the moonlight was the only source illuminating the dark room. You carefully settle into the bed, fighting the urge to kick off your shorts as it wasn’t the most comfortable.

But once you pulled the blanket over your body, Ellie snuggled in closer to your warmth. Her face snuggled into the crook of your neck, her hair and nose tickling the skin on your neck. You were hoping you didn’t have throw up on you when you woke.

Yet, it strangely was easy for you to fall asleep with Ellie’s bandaged arm draped around your waist.

tag-list: @elliezlils11utt @seraphicsentences @alesbianperson @21slurp-blog

[writerleo86]

Terravenger Season 6 - Episode 481 (Do Not Copy) - 11.09.2023

    Standing at the large window in the Principal's Office at the Midas Academy was its principal, Beau Ravenstone.

    The commander now wore a collared white shirt underneath a light-blue coat that was buttoned. He had on a pair of gray pants and short dark-brown boots. His golden MAF badge was placed on the front left side of his coat. And he had on a pair of light-blue gloves.

    A strong female voice from the badge on Beau informed him "We have the body of Barbarus. We are taking it to get analyzed by Doctor Myers and her team at the Pluto Academy."

    Beau shook his head and replied "Barbarus was finally caught. But he was killed without standing trial for all he has done."

    "Commander Veil," reported the voice. "We still haven't found him. I still have soldiers searching every part of the border near the Chen Islands. But I wish we can simply enter the Islands."

    Beau asked "Neither of your soldiers that your recovered has been able to speak since the battle?"

    "Not yet," answered the voice. "We are hoping that at least one of our guys will wake up soon. Then they can tell us what exactly happened."

    Beau folded his hands behind him and informed her "Just keep us all involved, Lieutenant Hanen. The rest of the nations should be informed of what happens next."

    "Of course Sir," said the voice.

    The worried Beau turned around as he was joined by three people who remained at the front of the large desk before the commander.

    The person standing at the far right side was the head-general called Kastano. He was a calm man with light skin and bright blue eyes. His ears were as pointy as those of an elf. And he had a thin golden crown covering his forehead. He wore a long light-blue coat with long dark sleeves. He also had a long silver gauntlet around each wrist. He wore a pair of light-blue pants and short gray boots. And his MAF badge was placed at the front of a thick collar that covered his neck.

    Standing at the center of the group was the loyal lieutenant of the Midas Academy. Victoria Sidney was an average-sized woman that had a slender body, fair skin, and a pair of brown eyes. Her long blond hair was made into a high bun. She also had on black eyeliner and red lipstick. She wore a long red coat with yellow linings, a pair of white pants, and short burgundy boots. She also had on a pair of brown gloves and a long golden pad over each shoulder. And her MAF badge was placed on the front left side of her coat.

    And standing at the left side was the detective of the Midas City Police Department. Mercury Fakinos was a young man with pale skin, blue eyes, and a well-built body. And his long dark-blond hair was tied into a low tail while the front parts remained down. He wore a buttoned white shirt with a thick collar and a pair of long sleeves. He had on a pair of tight brown jeans and shiny brown boots. He also had a silver necklace that held a policeman's badge. And he wore an opened gray coat with his MAF badge on the front left side.

    Mercury lowered his head and implied "So, Cama Veil is missing."

    Kastano had his hands folded together before him as he responded "I should inform the Superiors at once. Maybe they will postpone the Midas Armed Forces Exams for this year."

    "Perhaps that is wise," said Beau.

    A worried Victoria lowered her head and replied in a soft voice "Cama will be fine. He is strong."

    "I wouldn't doubt that," commented Beau. "Cama does come from one of the strongest families to ever step foot on this planet."

    And the calm Victoria shook her head.

Terravenger -- Season 6

Episode 481:  The Misplaced Arc -- The Vessel

    Inside the Counselor's Office nearby was Rick Kamiya sitting at his desk as he was surrounded by small yellow candles that were lit.

    The counselor was a young Asian man with fair skin, orange eyes, and dark-brown hair that reached his shoulders. He had on a light-gray tee-shirt, white jeans, and gray boots. He also wore an opened light-blue coat with a long collar. And his MAF badge was placed on the front left side of his coat.

    Rick leaned his chin on his right backhand as the elbow remained on the desk. And the emotionless man listened as a voice spoke to him from the smoke coming from the lit candles.

    The smoke told him in a strong male voice "It seems the power of the Light-Bringer grew stronger."

    The emotionless Rick responded "With the power he has, he may be able to do it this time."

    The strong voice replied "No doubt. That means we must act now, while we still have time."

    Rick lowered his head as his arms remained on the desk.

    Then the counselor said "You're right, Admiral Redbourne. We must do it while we still can."

    And the voice implied "That means we need his help after all."

    "But can we trust him?" asked Rick.

    "We have no choice," replied the voice. "We'll have to play his game until we are completely rid of Mephistopheles. But we'll be ready when he decides to turn on us."

    Rick shook his head and told the smoke "I'll be ready for betrayal as well."

    The smoke finally lifted as Rick stood by the large window beside his desk. And a small flame lit in his orange eyes as Rick remained emotionless.

    Meanwhile, the small group of students -- Duo Storms, Seth Black and Silver Monroe -- had met with others at the front of a large nightclub called Tapz.

    Duo now wore a blue tee-shirt with two thin white lines covering the neck area. He had on a pair of white pants which had two silver-lined circles standing vertically on the top of the left leg. He also had a thick light-blue belt with a golden buckle. And he wore a pair of white shoes that had blue in each center.

    The trio were accompanied by three more students. One of them was Dilan Carr who was a muscular young man with dark skin, dark-brown eyes, and black hair that was nearly cut. He wore a black shirt with long black sleeves and tight light-blue jeans with a thick black belt that had a silver rectangular buckle. He also had his family crest which was placed on the left shoulder of his shirt. And he had on a pair of red-violet socks with shiny black boots.

    Another standing by Dilan's left side was a tall boy with light skin, short brown hair, a slender body, and a pair of gray eyes. He had on a white tee-shirt with green covering both the top part and the right sleeve. He also wore a pair of long sand-colored pants. And he had on a pair of black shoes with white covering each center.

    The other who remained at the other side of this youth was Cheetah. He had fair skin, clear brown eyes, and a well-built body. His short hazel hair was placed on the top of his head and tied into a high tail. Meanwhile, both sides of his head along with the back were cut. And small black spots covered his hair. He had on black eyeliner with a black slash painted on each side of his face. He also had on black lipstick. And small black half-star tattoos covered his right shoulder. He wore a dark-brown shirt with a thin darker collar and a pair of short sleeves. On the left side of the chest area were the letters DU colored in white and in a vertical pattern. A thick dark-brown gauntlet covered each wrist. And he wore a pair of yellow-green jeans that had holes on various spots. A large attachment displayed as a cheetah's fur was placed on the top of the left leg. And he wore a pair of black shoes that had red on each center.

    Cheetah gave a large grin and greeted to the trio "Hey there Mates!"

    Dilan reported "It didn't take much to bring both of them here."

    "Way to go Carr!" cheered Silver. "Now the party's about to begin!"

    Dilan soon handed each of his friends a small card with their picture on the left side.

    "Is this what I think it is?" asked Seth.

    Then Dilan informed everyone "What each of us have in our hand is an identification card that I manipulated, easily I may add. As of tonight, our ages are 22."

    "Far out!" yelled a happy Duo.

    And Silver commented "That's why we always need someone like you in our little group, Dilan!"

    Cheetah asked "You all did this for us?"

    Both Silver and Seth gave a quick laugh.

    And Seth responded "We want you two to go out with a bang! We are going to party our tails off until we fall down. Then we'll get back up and go at it again!"

    Silver added "Nothin' but the best for you guys."

    Dilan replied "We only want to show our care and appreciation for both of you. You have always guided us as our seniors. I hope that you two have the best time here."

    After that, a tearful Cheetah wrapped both his arms around Duo and Dilan.

    "You chums are da best mates ever!" yelled Cheetah. "Let's go in there and get busy!"

    The other student called Lenz told the younger students "Be careful. Cheetah's about to go all out."

    The excited Duo shook his head and cried "That's exactly what we want you two to do! Go for it!"

    Dilan shook his head and told the older students "Both of you deserve this gift which comes from all of us."

    The energetic Cheetah lowered his head and commented "You of all people sortin' this out, Dilan! I'm sure I kicked da bucket and came up to Heaven!"

    In a silent bedroom at the Griffin Mansion, the emotionless Jon Griffin had sat at a chair of a small metallic desk which was at the left side of the room as his bed remained at the center.

    Jon was a gloomy young man with fair skin, clear black eyes, short dark-brown hair, and a thick beard. He wore a long-sleeved black shirt with a pair of jet-black jeans and long black socks.

    Jon leaned his head back in order to relax until someone hurried behind him and wrapped their arms around him.

    The newcomer was revealed as his cousin Dean Curtis carrying excitement. He was a muscular young man with fair skin and clear black eyes. He had short brown hair which was spiked up and a fine beard. He also had on thick black earrings. He wore a black tee-shirt with an opened gray vest that had short sleeves. He had on a pair of tight black jeans and short black boots. And he wore three types of silver necklaces.

    Dean informed him "Hey Big Cuz! Don't look now, but we've get something for you!"

    A surprised Jon cried "We?"

    Next, two more people had entered the room.

    One of them who clicked on the light of the room was the slender girl, Laura Griffin. She wore a collared black shirt that had long sleeves. She also had on a short black skirt with tight black leggings.

    The other was Colby Fox who had pale skin, light-blue eyes, and a muscular body. The top of his brown hair was short and wavy while his sides were cut shorter. He also had a fine beard and a pair of thick black earrings. And his large black tattoo resembling an anchor remained on his right wrist. The youth had worn a long-sleeved white shirt underneath pale-blue scrubs. He also wore a pair of white socks and white shoes. And his MAF badge was placed on the front left side of his gray top.

    Dean quickly forced Jon from his chair as Colby walked forward. Then Jon discovered that his friend Colby had carried a small plate on his right hand which had a large cupcake covered in chocolate icing. And placed through the top of the cupcake was a small candle that was lit.

    Laura responded "We know you didn't want a party. But we wanted to celebrate since the first day of your final year starts in two days at the Academy."

    And Jon asked "You too, Fox?"

    Colby gave a large smile and replied "I wouldn't miss this for the world Buddy."

    "Well?" asked Dean. "What are you waiting for?"

    Then Colby walked closer to Jon as he held the small cake.

    "Go ahead Jon," Laura told her brother. "Make a wish and blow out the candle."

    Another female voice softly called "Go ahead, Jon."

    Everyone faced the door of the bedroom and found another person facing forward with a calm smile.

    This newcomer was revealed as the lovely young woman named Morgan Taylor. She had cocoa skin, light-brown eyes, and dark-brown hair that lowered past her shoulders. She had on black eyeliner and red lipstick. She had on a long-sleeved white shirt with a V-styled neck collar. Along with that, she had on a long red dress with a long purple cloth tied around the upper part. She also had a thin golden bracelet wrapped around each wrist. And she wore a pair of short brown boots.

    Both Jon and Morgan walked toward each other. Then Morgan took the right hand of the young man with her left hand.

    And Morgan told him "Go on, Beloved. Blow the candle once you have made a special wish."

    Jon lowered his head and replied "No need."

    And he looked at everyone around him as he responded "I have everything I need right here."

    Morgan gave another smile as she shook her head.

    "You're not even going to taste your cake?" implied Dean. "I put so much work into that too."

    And Colby gave a soft laugh as he lowered his head.

    In a large temple somewhere on Planet Terravenger, a large army of individuals dressed in hooded black attire walked through a large hallway as they surrounded a small set of soldiers dressed in navy-blue jackets and helmets. The hands of each soldier were secured in black rings as the chain was dragged by one of the hooded figures.

    The person leading them all was an older Rocky Samuel. He had fine skin, brown eyes, short dirty-blond hair, and a well-built body. He wore a buttoned scarlet shirt with a great collar and sleeves that lowered to his wrists. Placed on the right shoulder of the shirt. And each wrist was a thick dark-brown bracelet. He also had on thick black dress-pants, dark-brown socks, and black slip-on shoes.

    And walking by his right side was Kiona Dupree. She was another older youth who had light-blue eyes, pale skin, and short black hair. She wore dark-purple lipstick and black eyeliner with purple outside. She wore a long black dress with a thick collar and no sleeves. She had on a long-sleeved white coat that had black at the top, a fine dark-purple collar, and thick white links around the wrists. She also had on a pair of tight dark leggings. And covering her feet were short black boots with low heels.

    The guards led the captured soldiers through two opened doors. And everyone found themselves in a large area that was surrounded by small candles with a small blue flame lit from each.

    Standing before them was the sinister elder called Mother Blight. She had on a long black gown with thin blue outlines. She had on her black Western-type boots. She also wore her golden pendant that was attached to her golden necklace surrounded by small ivory bones. And she had on a long black coat that was opened.

    The other person standing by her left side was the gloomy man called Lua. He wore a pair of baggy white pants and short black boots. He had on three types of necklaces. And he wore a long black coat that was opened.

    Rocky reported "We found the soldiers roaming through the land. We had no choice but to fetch them."

    The emotionless Mother Blight quickly analyzed the soldiers using only her eyes.

    Then the wicked elder revealed "Their jackets. They come from Midas."

    Kiona soon yanked the chain she held with her left hand forward which forced one of the soldiers to leap forward.

    "This one in particular," Kiona informed her leader. "This soldier appears to have a great bond with the Vessel."

    And Rocky added "This one was the main reason why we had to engage these people."

    The vicious Kiona pushed the soldier down to their knees as Mother Blight walked toward them with questioning.

    Kiona told her leader "This maggot made me sweat before I finally captured him."

    Lua gave a quiet laugh and commented "It must had been troublesome for you to get dirty, Kiona. Such a pity."

    Kiona yelled in a raspy voice "Screw you Slave! You should be out cleaning the stairs!"

    And Mother Blight ordered "Be silent, the both of you."

    After that, she removed the helmet from the head of the restrained soldier.

    Mother Blight told Kiona "You did well, my child."

    Kiona bowed her head and said "Thank-you Mother."

    The captured soldier was revealed as Cutter Evans. He was a slender young man with light skin, blue-green eyes, and short blond hair. He wore a black patch that covered his right eye. And he had his distinct tattoo coming from his left shoulder. He wore a standard MAF navy-blue jacket with his MAF badge placed on its front left side. He had on a pair of baggy black pants and short black boots. He also had on a long black band covering each wrist and fingerless black gloves. And he wore a necklace that carried a small piece of silver shaped as a key lock.

    Mother Blight announced "Joshua Evans. But many around call you Cutter."

    "So the Vessel truly lives?" cried Lua.

    The sinister Kiona smiled and reported "It appears so. He had been living in Midas City for some time."

    Next, Mother Blight placed her right hand before the head of the young soldier as Cutter remained on his knees.

    "I figured you would be pleased by this, Mother," implied Kiona. "This boy should be the evidence that shows that the Vessel is definitely alive."

    Mother Blight lowered her head and uncovered "The Vessel is in fact living in Midas City with false parents. He is currently a student at the Midas Armed Forces' Academy."

    Then she looked into the eyes of Cutter Evans and asked "Now what to do with you?"

    "Vessel?" cried a frightened Cutter. "I don't know who or what that is!"

    Mother Blight bend down to him and replied "Indeed you do, Mr. Evans."

    The elder gave a devious smile and announced "The Vessel lives on. He goes by the name Daniel... Daniel Storms."

    And Cutter cried "No! Not Duo! What are you going to do with him?"

    Suddenly, another of the captured soldiers rose as they held a short black gun in their hands at the elder Blight.

    The soldier was the officer Solan Llave. He had light skin, brown eyes, and spiked brown hair. He wore a long-sleeved black shirt underneath the navy-blue outfit along with brown gloves, baggy black pants, and short black boots.

    He ordered the villains "Step away from him!"

    Once she stood up, Mother Blight gave a soft smile as she lowered her head. And the head of Solan Llave quickly exploded.

    Then Mother Blight faced Rocky Samuel and revealed "You didn't search that soldier better to find that gun hidden in his left heel."

    Rocky's head blew up as well. And his body fell by the right side of the scared Cutter.

    Mother Blight ordered Kiona "Take Mr. Evans to the other room."

    Kiona lifted a distraught Cutter to his feet. And the woman dragged the chained prisoner out of the room.

    "Lua!" called Mother Blight.

    A fearful Lua turned to her and Mother Blight directed "Dispose of the mess and the spares with it."

    A relieved Lua bowed his head and said "Certainly, Mother."

[ddejavvu]

Lost and Found - Eddie Munson x Reader (Part 1) (PREVIEW)

Summary: Just your luck, you get dress coded on your first day at Hawkins High. You're already ridiculed for being the senior transfer, and now on top of that, the only shirt that covers you up in the lost and found belongs to the school freak.

Contents/Warnings: reader wears eddie's shirt, reader gets bullied, lots of teasing, slight innuendos/suggestive material

this is just the preview for the full fic. the full fic will be posted 24h from now, so please let me know if you’d like to be tagged, and thank you for reading!

After sorting through the bin for almost five minutes, the only thing even remotely suitable for you is a baseball tee that looks like it’s homemade.

It’s a white shirt with black sleeves, and a ring around the neck. It’s certainly interesting. There’s a red devil on the front, horns protruding eerily from its head, and weapons frame its face, ready for battle. Then two multifaceted dice are poised below the text, numbers etched into their faces.

The bold black text over the picture reads ‘HELLFIRE CLUB,’ and it stinks of what you’re suspicious is weed. You’re not sure what the Hellfire Club is, you presume it’s an underground band of some sort, but you don’t have time to figure it out. There’s a red stain on the chest, what you presume (and pray) is spaghetti sauce, but it’s your best bet in the lost and found bin, so you slip it on and hope that they’ll let you go without any further incident.

--

“Eddie,” Dustin is out of breath when he sits down, too excited to inform his friend of the strange thing he’d managed to witness in the lunch line to think about breathing, “Eddie, the new kid’s wearing a Hellfire shirt!”

Eddie’s brows furrow and he munches skeptically on a pretzel, “You’re out of your mind, Henderson.”

“No! No,” He shakes his head, “Honest! Look,” He points to you, the text over the devil on your shirt clear as day over your book, “I saw her on my way back from class! She just walked in with it.” He let out a breathy laugh, “Do you think it’s catching on? Like, you think there’s more than just us? Do you think there’s members all around the world?!”

--

"Pray tell," The boy who crouches in front of you has dark eyes, his white sneakers creasing as he bounces on his thighs, "What are you doing in my shirt?"

You stare up at him blankly, your eyes drifting over the pins adorning his jacket. You recognize a few bands, a curse word or two, but then he dips his head to meet your eyes, his question still in the air.

"Oh, I-" You flounder, tugging at the hem of the shirt nervously, "I'm really sorry. Is this yours? I didn't know."

"It's mine," He reaches up to flick the stain on the front, "That was from an unfortunate driving-while-eating incident."

You giggle at the thought, and his eyes snap back to yours, his grin ever-growing as you speak, "It was in the lost and found. They dress coded me," You recall exasperatedly, "It was the only thing I could find."

"Dress coded?" He cocks his head to the side, "Shit, what are you wearing underneath?"

this is just the preview for the full fic. the full fic will be posted 24h from now, so please let me know if you’d like to be tagged, and thank you for reading!

[sporesgalaxy]

do all followers of Mr. King's wife go pink, or is he pink because he married her?

IN SHORT: euhh i guess kinda the latter? hes pink & specifically mostly fuschia because of symbolic reasons (theres no reason for the magic mechanic justifications to matter at the moment)

IN LONG: I really like the idea of fuschia being like. somewhere between pink and red. Pink represents benevolent connections like love & friendship. Red has the fun dual implications of more passionate kinds of love but also passions in the form of violence and rage and bloodshed. So, consider fuschia. It's implications are tainted by the fact that it's an artificial color-- it is actually just the absence of green. In this way it can be read as a simulacrum of pink, or a parody-- sympathy and friendship and love but with something untruthful to it. Underneath fuschia's false pink identity lies its redness-- it is a veneer of sweet, innocent love over a frenzied passion and/or bloodlust. In this way I've come to associate it with unhealthy obsessions/a toxic relationship with a person or thing, in which you convince yourself that your feelings are normal somehow, to give yourself an excuse to keep up an unhealthy but gratifying passion with something.

This color association applies to all 3 of my hot pink bitches btw tee hee (old img)

[hes-writer]

Scent

Summary:  harry takes super early showers and y/n just happens to be awake

Warnings: smut!

Word Count: 1703

____

Lavender. Clementine. Cucumber. Tobacco Vanille.

Y/N could name the simple scents with her eyes closed, her nose contracting as she let the fragrance overtake her senses. During the times when Harry had an early start before her--which is almost daily--Y/N had the pleasure of letting the aroma waft through her until it is overtaken by the next product Harry treated himself with.

The morning started with a slow peel back of her lids. The sound of the shower splattering against the tiled walls and only then did Y/N subconsciously let her arm pat over Harry’s side of the bed to find it empty. She sighed slowly, stretching her hands over her head for a satisfying crackle of her bones. Y/N laid flat on her back, staring at the ceiling and blissfully letting herself bathe in the soft simper of Harry’s gorgeous voice seeping through the small gap of the en-suite bathroom door.

It was still raspy from his lack of use and sleep, yet it was the tender type of baritone that vibrated the ache between Y/N’s legs. Something about the way it was low enough to reverberate through her skin and tickle her ears with sensual words and noises made Y/N clench her thighs together underneath the comforter.

The slight thump of the glass shower closed with the magnetic attachment of the door handle, indicating that Harry was now under the stream of water. Hot beads clinging to his skin, something draping off to shape the bumps and imperfection of his body, tapering off his figure and splashing on the tile. His hair curly hair matter on his head, a shaggy sort of look that shielded his eyes that shamefully turned Y/N on because it did a lot in adding mischief in his appearance.

Lavender.

The first scent managed to escape with the help of the steam. It was the spray that Harry spritzed in the open air to help his muscles further relax. He worked too hard sometimes that he forgot to take care of himself. And so, Y/N bought him an aromatherapy spray that calms the tightness in his back even before the water loosened the knots of clumping muscles.

Speaking of, Y/N bit her lip at the visual of Harry’s muscled back contracting as he flipped the wet strands of hair away from his face. The water cascading on the plane of smooth skin littered with various beauty marks. The same back where Y/N dug her fingernails into when Harry was above her, hips shifting with tremor as both of them shook with the building pleasure coiling in their tummies.

The remnants of wild and rough nights etched on his skin through scrapes of red welts. Half-moons indented on his back, resulting in a hiss between his clenched teeth at the feeling of his soft cotton tee rubbing against the broken skin. Yet every time Y/N paused from prodding her nails into him the next time he was on top of her, Harry would only chuckle darkly. With one hand supporting his body, Harry would reach over to guide hers to the place she retracted from, encouraging her to leave more marks on his body because it proved that he was hers.

Y/N closed her eyes, quietly whimpering at the insatiable need to dig her finger into his textured skin once again. However, the valley of her breasts would have to do until he returned to her. Her fingers traced over her neck. Flashing images of Harry’s large hand dipped and wrapped around the fragile area to cut off her breath. The choked moan Y/N gasped out, begging for more yet nothing but whimpers escaped her lips.

She lightly treaded over the tops of her hardened nipples, fingertips grazing her areolas just as a yelp sprouted from the shower and Y/N knew that Harry’s clumsy hands dropped the shampoo bottle from his grip.

“I’m okay!” A muffled explanation resounded from the bathroom. He always did it to ensure that Y/N wasn’t worrying about him.

Y/N laughed at his actions. He may be clumsy elsewhere, but Harry was definitely skilled at playing her body like an instrument. She could just barely feel the ghost of his tongue swirling the hardened bud between his lips, sucking on it with hollow cheeks, pinching at the nerves until she had to tap at his shoulders to pull off.

Clementine.

The scent of tangy tones shifted the mood. It was the subtle scent of his shampoo. The aroma that Y/N was faced with when Harry buried his face at the junction of her neck and shoulders. When the explicable pleasure was too much for him to handle and Harry was way too sensitive from being teased for a longer amount of time; he had a tendency to bury his cock deep insider of her. Barely moving because the feeling of her velvety walls wrapped around him was enough to stimulate the orgasm splintering above his pubic bone.

The times when desperation clawed from his throat to ‘please, fuck me, Y/N’ with a glazed look in his eyes. Thick lashes were damp with his tears as he practically sobbed at the feeling of her shifting her hips in a wave to bounce on his lap.

Y/N sprawled her hand past her tummy, towards the throbbing of her clit. The sensitive nub had become swollen at the thoughts and images that attacked Y/N’s groggy mind. Her finger gave a delicious circle around it, hips jolting at the action.

Y/N laid her cheek on the pillow, head turned to the side. The heat of her body doubling at the memory of Harry enveloping her waist with his forearms, folding her body towards him. Y/N’s breasts were hugging Harry’s face as he sucked hickeys on the soft skin. Her face meeting with the unruly head of clementine-scented hair as she could not do anything except take the harsh thrusts Harry propelled into her pussy.

Cucumber.

It was the scent that surrounded the room when Harry’s physical presence was nowhere to be found.

Harry liked to feel and smell fresh whenever he had a long flight. So, he opted for Dove Men’s Spray to help him feel that way. It was the aroma that had Y/N feeling a little needier than usual, knowing that Harry wasn’t there to take care of her and had to do it herself. Today was no different.

The heavy comforters did little to relieve her of the sweat exuding from her pores. The heat of Y/N’s skin had her seething through her teeth when she dipped a finger into her opening; no surprise at the result of clear, sticky arousal wiped on her inner thighs. She threw the covers off of her, blatantly reminded of lonely nights when Harry was away.

Y/N slipped a nimble finger in her pussy, gradually moaning as her walls contracted around something. The tightness around her finger was mind-numbing to the point where even the slightest movement of her digit scent fireworks rapidly exploding around her body.

She pulled her wrist back, only to push it back in with as much force, hitching her breath and had Y/N arching her back in a curved bow away from the mattress of the bed. “Fuck,”

Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her free hand scrambled to pull herself in a sitting position, huffing in annoyance when her muscles shook. She slipped her fingers out, sucking on the wetness before pushing up so that she could lean her upper back on the headboard; legs spread wide open with her feet planted flat on the bed.

She would’ve felt some sort of shame or embarrassment at the dull reflection of her sopping wet pussy on the large screen TV resting on the adjacent wall. However, Y/N was way too aroused to dwell on that. Pretty soon, her hand founds its way to her core, feeling the heat emulate against her palm.

Y/N sighed Harry’s name at the feeling of two fingers stuffing her up. She watched with hooded eyes at the way her wrists flexed to pump her digits in and out of her. Three fingers rubbed her clit incessantly in tight circles and figure 8’s. At one point, Y/N was positively lifting and thrusting her hips off of the bed to meet her hand.

The sheer desperation of her movements resulted in a perfect prodding against her g-spot. Her fingers were long enough to jab at the ridged wall and Y/N could practically hear nothing but the muted gasps of her bated breath, the audible whimpers between pressed lips and the loud moans when her sensitive spot was treated to a special stimulation.

Tobacco Vanille.

Y/N could smell it so close to her that she was positive Harry had finished his shower. If she opened her eyes, she would see the misty air moving from the bathroom to the open bedroom. If she opened her eyes, Y/N would be able to see Harry’s figure covered in only a white towel draped low on his hips as he took out his clothes for the day.

If she opened her eyes, Y/N would see Harry with a lust-filled expression on his face. Mouth agape to the point where saliva pooled his mouth at the delectable sight in front of him. The erection underneath his tented towel was almost instantaneous.

But she didn’t. Her orgasm throttled at her with full force, making her mind blank out in spaced, blissful ecstasy as she let herself hit her threshold. Her neck strained, thumping her head soft against the cushioned headboard.

Y/N was making the filthiest noises, paired with squelching the damp suction of her palm against her wet pussy. Her free hand was switching between stimulating her budded breasts, heaving with heavy breaths to her pink clit, wet with desire. Her knees knocked together when sensitivity struck her nerves, involuntary holts shifting her every which way.

Harry.

She opened her lids slowly, a small smile gracing her mouth.

“Good morning,”

_____

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[theladyofdeath]

Prompt: Azriel and Elain get stuck in an elevator.

All fluff with a dash of awkwardness. I hope you enjoy, nonnie. :)

My masterlist + Other answered prompts

Elain was late for work.

Considering she was the owner of the little flower shop downtown, and currently it's only worker, it wasn't good for business to not open on time.

And yet, as if the entire world was against her, the elevator was running late.

She looked at her watch.

She was supposed to flip the sign from closed to open in twenty minutes.

She needed a miracle.

"Comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon," she murmured, rocking back and forth on her heels.

Finally, the light above the closed elevator doors dinged, and they opened. Elain hurried inside, even though the doors didn't close again until minutes later.

She had been in such a hurry that she hadn't noticed she wasn't the only one in the elevator.

The stranger standing on the far side of the elevator, on his phone, was no stranger at all. In fact, she saw him around often. Azriel, Elain thought. She was certain he was familiar with Rhysand, her younger sister's boyfriend.

Not that she had ever spoken to Azriel.

He looked up from his phone and spotted Elain, blinking, as if he just noticed that she'd arrived.

He nodded his head in acknowledgement. 

Elain found the notion both awkward and charming, so she gave him a smile.

And that was it. 

Once the elevator doors closed, it resumed its destination from the 23rd floor down to floor 1. 

Elain hated the apartment life. One day, she’d have her own home just outside of the city. Nothing too big, but with a yard big enough for an extravagant garden. She didn’t need anything too fancy, just as long as she got her dream garden.

Someday.

When her new business in Velaris took off. 

Around floor 15, Elain’s late morning got a hell of a lot worse.

The elevator jolted, and Elain had to grab onto the rail next to her to avoid falling over. It seemed Azriel had to do the same, his phone long forgotten.

The elevator stopped, and the light went off, the emergency lights coming on, making the room reflect in red. 

Elain wanted to curse, but she reined in the temptation. At least, until the realization hit her. “We’re stuck.”

“It seems so,” Azriel said, his voice deep from the opposite side of the elevator. 

“I....can’t be stuck,” Elain said, beginning to panic. “I’m late. I have a bridal appointment ten minutes after opening, and I’m not going to be there-.”

“No sense in worrying about something that can’t be changed,” Azriel said, completely interrupting her. 

Her eyes shot to his, but it turned out he was already looking at her.

She was taken aback. 

Usually Azriel hit beneath a hood or a hat, and in the handful of times that she had come across him, she had never really seen what was underneath. Today he wore no hat, though, and his long-sleeved tee that he wore with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing the dark ink beneath, had no hood. His choppy black hair was pushed back off his forehead, and Elain could see his face perfectly well, even in the dimmed light. 

He blinked, shifting in discomfort from being stared at. “What?”

Elain cleared her throat and straightened her back. You’re quite handsome. “It’s rude to interrupt people.” 

He laughed, quietly, then nodded. “Sorry.”

He leaned back against the wall of the elevator and pulled out his phone, yet again.

“How can you be so calm?” Elain asked, sounding not calm at all.

He looked back up at her and shrugged. “I was just going to get a haircut then go to the grocery store. I think I’ll survive the delay.”

Elain frowned, her dark brows furrowing. “You were going to get a haircut?”

Azriel’s brows rose. “Yes,” he said, slowly. 

“Well,” Elain began, pulling her purse strap higher onto her shoulder. “I think your hair looks nice, as is.” 

Perhaps it was the red lights, but Elain swore the softest shade of pink appeared on Azriel’s tanned cheeks. 

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Eventually, he said, “Well, maybe I’ll just go to the market then.”

Elain nodded, and looked down at her hands as they fell into silence, the hum of the lights the only thing to be heard. 

“I’m sure if you call your fiance or whatever, he can take care of your appointment-.”

“My fiance?” Elain asked, her turn to interrupt. 

When she looked back up at Azriel, he was already watching her, sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You said you have a bridal appointment.”

As Elain’s confusion faded, she began to laugh. “Oh, no, I’m a florist. I’m meeting with a bride to discuss what flowers she wants for her bouquets.” 

“Ah,” Azriel said, and his smile was mesmerizing. “I see. So, there’s no fiance, then.”

Elain’s voice grew significantly quieter when she said. “No, there’s no fiance.” 

Azriel nodded as he bit his bottom lip. “It’s Elain, right?”

Elain nodded. 

“Are you busy tomorrow night, Elain?” Azriel asked, and Elain swore there was a touch of nervousness in his tone. 

Elain shook her head. “No, I’m not busy.” 

The elevator jolted again, and it slowly began to move. Elain hardly noticed, though. She was looking at Azriel, and he at her. 

“Care to join me for dinner?” he asked, as they passed the 14th floor, then the 13th. 

“I’d like that,” Elain said.

“Great,” Azriel breathed, the timid tension fading from his shoulders. “I’ll head down to your floor at seven?”

“I’ll be ready,” Elain promised.

They reached the first floor and the doors opened. Elain took a second before getting out, Azriel just behind her.

“Maybe we should take the stairs tomorrow,” Azriel said, chuckling. 

“I don’t know,” Elain said, looking up at him as they stopped by the doors that led out to the streets of downtown Velaris. “That wasn’t so bad.”

He smiled that smile again that had Elain’s stomach in knots. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow night, then, Elain.”

“I’ll see you then,” she said, and then they were walking out of the doors and saying their goodbyes, Azriel going right, Elain going left onto the sidewalk. 

As she walked, she had completely forgotten that she was late. 

[mercy-burning]

Nightfall

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After a near-death experience on the job and dark nightmares that follow, Reader and Spencer find comfort in each other. Category: ANGST / FLUFF (hurt/comfort?) / ***OPTIONAL SMUT ENDING (18+)*** Warnings: A nightmare sequence that includes brief mentions of a chainsaw, dismemberment, and blood/gore, heavy crying, basically it’s just very sad and dark, but comforting and soft at the end | SMUT includes: handjob, cum eating, shower sex, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex Word Count: 1.6k | 3.3k

Full Request: “Could you do a spencer fic where the reader wakes up from a night terror due to nearly dying on a recent case, and leaves the bed and Spencer panics because he can’t find them in the bedroom, and it becomes a mutual comfort fic where Spencer’s trying to calm both him and the reader down with just lots of angst and fluff?...” — @willowrose99

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: Y’all, I can’t believe this is the final 1k request!! I’ve had so much fun writing these, so thank you for sending them in, reading, reblogging them, and for celebrating this milestone with me!!

This one’s a little... dark. And extremely sad. I actually, like, sobbed writing this, so I apologize in advance. It also gets a little horror movie-esque during the nightmare sequence, so I apologize if that’s not your thing (I’ve been watching a shit-ton of horror movies lately and I love it lol) ANYWAY, I hope you enjoy this final request! Thank you again for celebrating with me, it means the world ❤

***

It started with flashes of light, faintly resembling fireworks as they shot through the nightfall, albeit silently. They were constant, red and blue and— They were police lights... But he should have heard sirens to accompany them, right? Why weren't there sirens? If he tried hard enough, though, through the loud thumping in his ears, he could faintly make out a high pitched whine. Or... was it a cry?

Crying.

No—sobbing.

Screaming.

It was at this point that Y/N had awaken, screaming almost at the top of her lungs as she startled forward in bed. Though it took a few painstakingly long seconds to realize where she was and that she was safe, at home with Spencer and bathed in the deep sound of silence, she still felt the hum of the chainsaw and it's loud groaning as it descended closer and closer above her neck. It was loud, haunting, and even as she furiously rubbed at her eyes, the images and sounds wouldn't go away.

She stumbled from the bed and trembled the entire way to the bathroom, so enraptured in terror that she was entirely unaware that Spencer had only merely jumped in his sleep at the sound of her screaming.

Meanwhile his dream continued, that high crying sound fading into some sort of tune that resembled a music box... As he made his way through the flashing lights, they also seemed to dissipate, eventually leading him to one single streetlight in the middle of a field. But underneath it stood a large pile of dirt, something glistening on top of it as it... spun?

He approached the dirt, only to notice it was, in fact, a music box that he was hearing. Each note grew louder and louder as he crouched down to get a closer look, and without warning it started to smell like... rotting flesh. It was unmistakable. But... why? There weren't any bodies around, only the music box rotating on a pile of...

It was a grave.

And right as he finally recognized the tune coming from the music box, which served as some type of headstone, Spencer was pushed back, the dirt rumbling until something shot up from the grave, sending the music box shattering in front of him into pieces.

It couldn't be... I saved her, she's not... It can't be her...

The tune was her favorite song. And as the music box sat broken in front of him, he realized it was also a gift to her from her late mother.

But it couldn't have been her...

The streetlight flickered heavily as whatever shot up out of the grave started to come into better view. Arms outstretched, until the left one gave off a glow that pulsed at its ring finger— A glittering diamond ring that he'd picked out years ago and had sat on her hand ever since.

But it couldn't have been her...

The arm fell clean off the figure with a loud thud, and then it dissolved into a pool of crimson, the glittering ring laying right in the middle, untouched and untainted by the gore. The rest of the figure trembled heavily until he heard the tune again— Only now, it was her voice. It lowly hummed the melody as a head came into view, slowly revealing her face.

But... It couldn't have been her...

Spencer trembled as her voice continued to hum, each note becoming more warped and drowned out until suddenly, the streetlight stopped flickering and remained blinding.

There was no mistake anymore.

Under the harsh white light, Y/N's tattered, dirty and bloody body was sitting up in a pile of dirt like it might have once been sand at a beach. Her left arm was a pool of boiling blood next to her, and the ring still laid there, as sparkly and ethereal as ever—the only good thing that remained.

"Why didn't you save me?" she drawled, her voice deep and warped. The terror grew and grew in the pit of his stomach as he watched her head, a thin, red line at her neck getting larger and larger as it tilted... Farther and farther to the left, until finally, she laughed, and it snapped clean off her body and into the pool of blood that once was her left arm.

All he could do was shake violently, his mouth open in a silent scream as the wind nearly knocked him out.

When Spencer woke up, he couldn't breathe.

His eyes shot open and his hand clutched at his chest as he tried to catch his breath. And even as he blinked rapidly, gradually realizing it was all a dream and that he was at home, his breath slowly coming back to him, the shaking he was experiencing was still very real.

The first thing he did was reach for her hand, her body, anything to let him know that she was with him.

And all he found underneath his fingers was a cold sheet.

"Y/N?" he whimpered out, turning frantically to see if he could spot her. His heart beat frantically in his chest to the point where it's all he could hear, panic starting to settle in his bones even as he scrambled out of bed and went searching for her.

On shaky legs, Spencer travelled throughout the house, a purchase they'd made only a year ago. It still hadn't entirely felt like home, but after being married for four years whilst traveling everywhere for work, they'd come to terms with that fact that home was wherever they were together. But right now the Reid house felt more foreign than usual, because things were bad, and Spencer couldn't find his wife anywhere. His home was with her, and without her, without home, he was empty.

When he stumbled into the bathroom, swinging the door open and turning on the light with fumbling, shaky hands, he heard a yelp coming from the direction of the bathtub. And when his eyes landed on his wife, huddled in an empty tub and visibly shaking just as badly as he was, his world corrected just a little bit.

"Baby?" he whispered, silently asking if it was alright to approach her.

All she did was stare blankly at him, her body trembling as tears silently streamed down her face. Her bottom lip was wobbling, and it was then that he knew she wouldn't be able to speak.

"Y—You had a bad dream, too?" he whispered again. She nodded, still shaking, and the tiny sob that cracked through her closed lips gave him permission to move forward.

He was still anxious as he got in the tub with her, cuddling up next to her and letting her fall tirelessly into his open arms. He hugged her tightly, resting his chin on the top of her head and feeling tears of his own start to well in his eyes as her breathing labored. This time he could audibly hear her breathing, just as shaky as her body was, and even though she made no sound, it didn't take a genius to understand that she was silently sobbing.

The wetness from her tears soaked through his thin tee shirt, and with every second she hugged him tighter and tighter, her breathing getting heavier until she eventually let out one, huge screaming sob that shattered his heart in two. His own tears fell hot like streams of liquid fire down his face as they cemented into the top of her head and spread throughout her own body, expelling themselves through screeches of emotional pain and a tight grip.

It was a vicious cycle that only slowed when Spencer fell backwards, causing them to fall down and Y/N to choke out a sob-infused fit of uncontrollable laughter. It was chaotic and cathartic, a vessel of release that felt very much like home to them despite the coldness that had infiltrated their dreams and made them feel hopeless and scared.

Just being there together, holding each other as they cried, slowly washed that hopelessness away until their cries became laughs, which then dissolved into a sweet, comfortable silence that further cemented the fact that they'd only been dreams.

This? Right now? This was real.

Spencer's hand gently combing back his wife's hair as it fell in her face and threatened to stick to her mouth? That was real.

Y/N's clutch on her husband's tee shirt that was sure to leave wrinkles and tear stains, the thought of the moment when he'd inevitably joked that she 'leaked' all over him making her laugh? That was real.

It wasn't long before the two of them drifted off into near-unconsciousness, laying down uncomfortably in the porcelain tub but too afraid to move that they'd endure it for the night.

Y/N loosened her clutch on Spencer's shirt, taking to placing each of her hands on his chest instead as she nuzzled her face into his neck. Her cheeks were itchy with dried tears, and the dampness of his shirt from the same thing felt oddly comforting pressed coolly against her palms.

"I love you, Spencer," she whispered.

The gravel in her voice slightly made his heart sink, but it rose again when she pressed the most loving kisses to his neck, conveying all the love and appreciation and warmth that they could. He glanced down at her hands, the glittering ring on the left one looking rather dull compared to his nightmare. But then she twitched her hand, and under the soft blue tint of the bathroom light, it glinted in a quick flash.

He placed one of his hands over hers, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before whispering back, "I love you, too."

***OPTIONAL SMUT ENDING***

Waking up in a bathtub was bound to be painful, but after such a deep, dreamless sleep, Spencer and Y/N found it somewhat comforting. It was strange waking up wrapped up in each other in a bathtub after a solid hour and a half of emotional wreckage the night before, sure, but once they realized where they were, the goofy, half-asleep smiles they adorned couldn't be of any greater comfort than a warm, soft bed.

Their wordless greetings began when Y/N ran her thumb gently across the planes of her husband's chest, letting him know she was awake. He did the same, running his thumb along the inside of her other arm. Soon after, it was her whole hand, tracing his entire torso up and down for a few cycles until she reached the hem of his shirt and slipped it underneath. She closed her eyes and sighed, kissing his neck while feeling goosebumps start to rise on his skin.

Her kisses became deeper and more sloppy when he reached out and clutched her other hand, lacing their fingers together and bringing them up to his mouth. He sighed over the back of her hand, and it didn't take very long for Y/N to feel his hips twitch against her, a familiar hardness bringing a cheeky smile to her lips.

Spencer felt it against his neck, and as his whole being went into a state of utter bliss as he wondered how one single being could have this great of an effect on him.

He was hyperaware of her wandering hand as it slipped out from under his shirt in favor of slipping into another fabric. The moment her delicate fingers grazed his dick, he groaned against her hand, giving it open-mouthed kisses that well-mirrored the ones she was currently giving his neck.

After a bit of fumbling around to get him free of his pajama pants and boxers, Y/N's hand was firmly wrapped around her husbands hard, ready cock. She swiped her thumb over the tip and spread around some of the precum there before humming into his neck and starting a quick, dry pace that allowed her to feel every dip and ridge of him. Spencer's head tilted back to give her more access to her neck, causing his forehead to softly thump against the cool porcelain of the tub.

And then she made sure to pay special attention to the underside of his tip, gently rubbing circles into it with her thumb as her tongue did the same to the weak spot on his neck. These two things together, naturally, had him tensing within a matter of seconds, his throat expelling a deep groan as his dick expelled his thick, warm release over her hand.

Y/N only groaned against his throat as he finished,=. And when he did, she brought her hand to her mouth and started to lick it clean as she sat up and straddled him.

"Good morning to you, too," Spencer sighed with a small laugh as he watched her sucking off her fingers. Though her shorts were still on, she started to rock against his thigh, using her other hand on the side of the tub as leverage. "I can help you out, you know," he offered, starting to sit up.

She had other plans, but the scratchiness in his voice—no doubt because he'd just woken up but also due to the crying last night—took those plans and threw them out the window. She'd let him do whatever he wanted, something that was a usual occurrence, but when it came to his morning voice she couldn't resist.

So she waited as he sat up, his hands immediately finding their way to her shirt, which he lifted and threw out of the tub. And then he used his thumbs to gently swipe over the peak of her breasts, leaning forward to kiss her neck ad mumble "I love you," into her skin. She sighed and grinded on his thigh again, each swipe of his thumbs over her hardened nipples giving a new jolt of pleasure with each grind. She gripped his hair softly, combing through it and twirling pieces of it around her fingers, her eyes fluttering closed and her mind going numb so as to completely live in the moment and focus on the way he touched her and loved her unconditionally.

Spencer brought one of his hands down to pull at the waistband of her shorts, and against her leg, Y/N felt him grow hard again. So she lifted her hips and let him slide her shorts and underwear down, and once she got them off her legs she tossed them out with her shirt and worked at his own clothes. Due to the small space in the bathtub, things were most certainly clumsy and impatient, but once the clothing barriers were gone for good, leaving them both completely bare, it was an easy feat to stand and get easy access to each other.

Y/N whined into his mouth as he pushed her against the shower wall, her hands exploring the planes of his hack and his ass while he reached behind her and turned the shower on. Water rained down on them, freezing at first, but it got warmer each second as they made out and let their hands roam.

Soon, though, one of Spencer's hands came down to grab Y/N's thigh, and she wrapped that leg around his waist, pulling him closer as she brought her hand down to line him up.

"You don't want me to use my mouth?" he whispered into her mouth in between kisses as she ran the head of his dick through her pussy.

"Mmm... Later," she sighed back, circling his tip over her clit a few times before deeply kissing him and using her leg to pull him closer. "Right now I need you inside me."

Who was he to deny her anything? So he slowly pushed into her, dropping his head to rest on her shoulder.

The water was arm now, mostly cascading down his back, but it rolled to the front of him, accenting every forward snap of his hips with a loud smack.  His thrusts were quick, but each time he went forward, he stayed there for a moment, not only to make sure he didn't go too fast and end up slipping, but also to gauge his wife's reactions— feeling her nails scratch lightly down his shoulders, the rumble her throat as she groaned at each slow circle of his hips as they connected with hers... His primary goal was to draw out every little noise and reaction from her until she was crying out with pleasure, honestly his favorite sound in the world.

The only thing that came close was when she begged.

"Baby, please," she whined, her hands reaching down to grab his ass. "I need more..."

Spencer groaned into her neck, granting her wish and setting a quicker pace drilling into her. She clenched her whole body around him, not only to draw out more pleasure, but to keep a good grip so they wouldn't fall. In the few times that they'd had sex in the shower prior to this, they'd always taken precautions by bending Y/N over the edge of the tub as he fucked her, though the floor usually ended up almost completely soaked with water by the end of it. Which, of course, was why they'd hardly ever done it.

But when you and your significant other wake up in the bathtub after a rough night, sometimes you just have to take advantage of the opportunity.

Everything seemed to work out, though, because it didn't take any time at all for them to get there. With one orgasm already under Spencer's belt and the constant thrumming of his dick against Y/N's g-spot, the two of them were only seconds away from losing themselves in blinding bliss.

Sure enough, his hips started to stutter, and she held his ass close to her as he stilled and came yet again. She cried out in high whines as her walls fluttered around him, and even as she came down, her grip on him remained, the sudden urge to be as close as possible to her husband outweighing any concern about overstimulation.

Even as he pulled out of her and started to kneel, Y/N kept her hands on him at all times, settling them finally in his wet hair as she sighed. "What are you doing?"

"You said later," is all he offered in response. "It's later."

And then he licked a long line along the inside of her thigh where his cum had started to drip out. The sight below her almost turned her on more than the touch itself, what with the way the water covered him and sprinkled his face as he looked up at her. Eventually though, the water in his eyes was too much, so he stuck to keeping them down as he gently ran his tongue through her pussy and cleaned her up, bringing on another impending orgasm for her in the process.

Y/N brushed his wet curls away from his face as he did it, gently tugging on them and rolling her hips slightly to get more friction. But he held them still, his way of telling her that he was going to take his time with her and that it would be worth it in the end.

And worth it it was. Anything he did would have been worth it, but Y/N couldn't deny the loud cries of intense pleasure as his tongue rapidly flicked over her clit, never slowing or picking up the pace. He kept at it, over and over and over until she was shaking above him, her grip in his hair so tight that it elicited moans of his own.

Once he could tell she was done, her grip becoming a little too tight, Spencer pulled away, pressing wet kisses along her body as he made his way back up to his feet.

"There," he said, kissing her cheek and then nuzzling into her neck once more. "And now we're even."

Y/N laughed, wrapping her arms around her husband and holding him tight as they stepped further into the water to wash up.

***

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[lovemarisolluna]

An unsolicited AG review: Zip-Up Sweatsuit (2005)

Whaaaaaat? Me and Marisol are back after 2 years with another unsolicited outfit review? It's more likely than you think. Let's get dangerous into it.

Per the wiki: The Zip-Up Sweatsuit is a Just Like You outfit released in 2005 and retired in 2007. Retail cost was $24. The outfit was loosely tied to the first four Historical Character Mysteries, ie, they put them in the catalog together on the same page.  Here's the attractive stock photo:

oooo, ahhhh

I've had this outfit on my wishlist for months. Why? I don't actually know what about it appealed to me. I was working on potential book titles for a "central series" (and more) for my Marisol doll, and I wanted a "sneaky" casual outfit for her mystery books. What better to sneak around and solve mysteries in than a cool dark purple sweatsuit? Now, I'm not usually one to buy early 2000s AG outfits. A lot of them feel kinda dated to me more than nostalgic, because I had Kirsten and that was it and my parents wouldn't buy me any other AG stuff until years later. So most outfits (Garden Party outfit and Heart-Print pjs, I'm looking at you) don't really do it for me.  But the sweatsuit is pretty basic, and by 2005 AG had started to mellow out a bit with their designs and began leaning towards more casual outfits with mix and match appeal.

Mooooving on, I bought it. Like new, with box. And then got slightly stuck on how to style it. This outfit has 4 pieces. Tee shirt with lettuce hem, zip suit jacket (no hood, so not a hoodie), matching sweatpants, and sneakers. Pretty basic stuff.

The jacket and pants are nice. Thick (but not too thick to be doll scaled weight) and trimmed with berry-red topstitching and a red zipper. The jacket has a decal of a red star and says American Girl underneath it. This is repeated on the hip of the pants. This isn't AG's star logo, its a little more rounded than their innerstar design. Jacket loses a point for having fake pockets, but its cute and has great mix and match potential. Jacket gets an A. The pants get an A-,  mostly because I don't typically dress my dolls in anything besides jeans or leggings or the occasional skirt, so I don't think my dolls will be wearing these much.

Now the tee. I don't really like lettuce hems. They're very Of An Era, and I always found them uncomfortable to wear. However, this shirt is really cute. The fabric is nice and thick, again without being too bulky. It's a great basic, and the simple tee design make sit easy to pair with a lot. However. This is the matching kid's shirt.

Look at that cute design with headshots of Kaya, Samantha, Molly and Kit!!

This design was featured on other products as well. The mystery party sets, and the bath products that were all marketed together with the first(?) historical mystery books. The doll tee, instead, has pastel colored circles instead of the pictures. Did they not show up well at scale: tiny? Did they not want to get too meta, in terms of dealing with the fact that your doll can wear another doll-slash-book character's face on their shirt? The world will never know. Luckily, that's why photoshop exists (see below). Shirt gets a solid B for good matching potential. I can see myself using this frequently.

Now onto the shoes. I hate them. I really do. AG had this weird period of time where all their sneakers were bulky, with thick soles, slightly pointed toes, and raw unfinished fabric edges at the top of the shoe. The Basketball outfit II (2005) and Tennis outfit II (also 2005) are other examples of this. I hate all of them. The do have one thing going for them. These sneakers go really nicely with this outfit. I like that they reversed the outfit colors, the sneakers are a dark pink that matches nicely with the red trim on the jacket and pants, with purple as an accent color. I will never use these shoes ever. C-

Now. Do I love all of the pieces of the zip-up sweatsuit outfit together? No. But, it works great for mixing and matching with other pieces, particularly things from around the same time. Here's how I styled it for Marisol's summer fit. Marisol lives in Chicago, but its not warm here in the PNW, and the jacket is still great for mystery solving at night.

Looking fly as hell, Marisol.

She's wearing the jacket, tshirt (with the character images photoshopped on. Maybe I can look into iron on transfers, but they'd have to go on over the existing decals...hmmm) shorts from the 1998 Picnic Outfit, and my favorite sneakers from the 2001 Skateboard outfit. She's currently wearing Gabriela's red headphones with it, and it would also look really good with the red flowered headband from the 1998 Play outfit. 

Overall, I'd say this outfit gets a hand wavy low A- for mix and matching potential. Have fun out there and don't do anything I wouldn't do!

[namjoonchronicles]

impression | yg

↳ genre fluff, domestic, established relationship

↳ words 5.5k

↳ summary many forgot that when you marry someone, you marry their family too, at least that’s how Asian family is like

↳ warning that side of adulthood, lockdown because of pandemic, self-worth, over-sensitivity, pisces dude, married life conflicts

↳ song ariana grande ‘pov’ 

Just this morning you woke him up with ‘Daechwita’ blasting on his ear drums, dancing and prancing around the home gym in your spandex bra and sweatpants, rapping to every word he wrote, with more swag than ten Yoongis combined. Forehead glistened with sweat, rosy cheeks and more life in you than he ever had. He leaned by the door sill just watching in utter disbelief and renewed admiration to just how much you loved his music. It never gets old. But how the tables have turned, two minutes before midnight.

You’ve locked yourself in the bathroom, him leaning his back on the wall, speaking through the closed door, calling out for you.

“Talk to me. Please… Say something. Anything,” he puts his lips inches away from the door, covering his hand over his mouth to direct the sound towards you, hoping it would get through. Fat chance, but at least he tried.

Must be something in his drink last night for him to hear his own song even when he is sleeping, Yoongi thought. But he didn't drink last night? Yoongi pulled the duvet down his head, contorting his entire face and the blaring boom bass music, rippling through the miniature figure standees of famous baseball players he had lined up on the TV cabinet. The music was so loud, the pictures hung on the walls began rattling at each beat drop. Where is this music coming from??

Two seconds in, and the empty spot next to him spoke volumes. All answers were as clear as day.

Yoongi sat up on the bed, duvets pooled around his waist as he yawns loudly and his bed hair flopping on either side leans towards, some baby strands standing in all directions. He scratches his arms, neck and belly as he comes awake. Face puffy, eyes barely open, and cheeks as circle as they could be. He gathered the duvet to the side and pushed himself off to the edge of the bed while shoving his feet into his indoor slippers. He tried to fetch his phone from the bedside table and saw it vibrating on its own from the loud music.

"Better stop her before the neighbours come complaining…"

He waddles about the room lazily, dragging his feet, his arm reaching for the switch panel before he even arrives to have the curtain open and let the sun in. The automated curtain aligned and folded creases perfectly as it gathered itself to each designated side. The bed, the bed will be made up later after he advises his wife not to deafen the whole neighborhood with his albums and he could finally think.

The teal-colored walls that extended along the hallway of the house, decorated with wedding pictures, family pictures, his signed baseball jerseys, picture of his basketball days (the one he jumps for a slam dunk and especially proud of, you know the one), your graduation picture (with him professionally photoshopped in) and some lovely polaroids of your first unofficial date that he insists was official. More on that later. Yoongi walks pass this memory lane with a stern face, shooting glares ahead, marching in the direction of the music, which seems to be coming from the gym. What he saw was a petite figure, all hyped up, sweaty, holding up a water bottle to your lips like a microphone, mouthing his rap like it was your own. You saw him in the mirror reflection but instead of coiling away, shy, you spat his rap to his face with flaming confidence. Yoongi looks down with a shy smile, eyes turning small and polite, skin blushing pink with second hand embarrassment. His face is hot and your sweaty skin, hair plastered to your neck and forehead, in revealing spandex was not helping. Neither is your swag. He clamped his lips with his teeth while you pulled his arm so he would join you. He protested lazily but didn't resist as hard. He throws his head back, whining dejections but you couldn't care less.

"Are you making your own concert here? Plagiarising my songs?"

You heard him and grinned widely at the mirror. He folded his arms and watched you dance seductively and just as the rap got to the 'my tongue sends boys and girls to China' part, the music stops and he is no longer next to you but by the stereo and turning it off.

"Yoongi! I was working out!" "People are gonna come and complain…" "They know who you are…" "They know my name from you…"

Screaming underneath him, that's what he meant. You rolled your eyes at him. He passed you a face towel with a sheepish smile. Wiping your face with it, you watched Yoongi unplug your phone from the sockets. It reveals several missed calls from your mother in law, Yoongi's mom.

"Mom called…" "Really?"

You moved closer to him to see. Yoongi reads the message she sent you outloud and the colors drained down your face.

"What do I cook? What do I do? What does she usually have for lunch? OMG, I don’t know. Do we even have kimchis left? I hadn't restocked…" "She likes fried dumplings and soy garlic chicken stew… it'll be okay. She said she is coming around noon. It's just a little over 8 am… Go take a shower."

You scurried to the bathroom and did as told. Yoongi made the bed while he waited. He turns the cordless vacuum cleaner on but it beeped soullessly because it wasn't charged. He sighed. You always forget to charge them after using them. He opted for a broom and dustpan instead. Yoongi disappears into his home studio, to take the shampoo he had been using and after-shower lotion for you to use. He twisted the knob, knowing you wouldn't lock them when you shower. Knock on the glass door of the shower and told you to use them. You nodded, passing him a look over your shoulder but he was out as quickly as he entered. That cold, cold steely husband.

You stepped out of the shower wrapped in towels with your hair dripping wet, hurrying to the hairdryer to dry your hair. Yoongi walks in with nothing but a towel around his waist. He passes you a chaste kiss on the shoulder first, then your cheeks before he continues to unravel his briefs and showered as well. The water trickles down his face, neck and shoulders, cascading down his speckless back, over the bum of his ass and wetting his happy trails at the same time. He aggressively rubs water over his face, the tips of his hair appear darker as it gets wet. You dressed up in your oversized hoodie, a pair of jeans and red converse, hair tied up in a bun, grabbing your purse for a quick run to the store. If your mother in law is coming, the least you could do is cook an all korean cuisine, prep nicely on the table so she knows that her son was taken care of nicely. Giving her a lasting good impression was your core priority as of now. And Yoongi would have been more than happy to do the grocery for you but this time, just this once, you want to show him that you are dependable too.

If there is anything you learned from korean cuisine is that food is prepared meticulously like you would, a form of art. Everything is placed neatly on a plate, and wrapped tightly. Taste and looks must be perfect. Everything had a sequence. Tradition and culture shapes the good people of Korea to what it is today. And for Daegu native, Yoongi's deep accent and habits become one of the most significant traits that flags a Daegu representative. You are obsessed with getting it right. Although you mostly don't understand the heavy accents he tends to let slip out once in a while, you were expecting to guess the words as it comes. His accents are one of the things that you loved about him. Daegu dialects are strong, and oozing masculinity. They are often direct and unapologetic so it might be heard as harsh. You couldn't tell apart if he is cursing or if he is just plainly just talking about his day when his friends stop by. He caught you a few times, staring blankly at him when he blurted out dialects out of frustrations, and he laughed them off when you accuse him of lying to you about what the words actually mean.

With his mom stopping by, the dialects are going to be thick and you would probably stare blankly most of the time. Communications are limited and Yoongi had to come back and forth to translate some of them.

Korean cooking is not your forte. Let's put that out there, in the open for everyone to see and understand. You are not familiar with it, and although you love some of it, some just don't fit your taste buds. But Yoongi is a full blown Korean. You make adjustments here and there, but it's not like he is always around for you to cook them often. That's why your korean cooking skills deteriorated. Even simple things like choosing which mushrooms to cook with takes 10 minutes longer than it probably should. You went with your heart and took the one you saw first.

Yoongi came out from the baths to see an empty room. Your perfume wafts over his nostril and it tattles about your whereabouts. Just as he was about to investigate, his phone shrieked a calling tone. It was Jungkook. Asking for a chord. He sounds desperate and bored to death. Being a good friend, Yoongi speds to his home studio after clumsily putting on some white tee on top of a grey shorts, halfway through and sending him several chords the little guy could work with, then pulling the rest of the shirt down as it loads. He swore he didn't take long but he found you already changing your clothes and starting to chop things on the chopping board, sloppily. He knows that it was not you to do things sloppily so he offered to help sharpen the knives.

"Soy garlic stew?"

You chewed your lips at him as he asked and nodded. Anxiety was written all over you. Your hands were already so shaky, and that's why you couldn't hold the knife properly, aside from it being blunt. You turned to the sink and began chopping the scallions with another knife Yoongi handed you.

“There are some potatoes I bought in the paper bags, I brought the mushroom I am familiar with, I am not sure if it's the one used in the stew. What time is it already? Is this enough time to even cook the stew? The chicken hasn’t thaw has it? I am not going to have enough time… She is going to know that the dumpling is store bought and I am putting my pride on the line…” you spoke nonstop, didn’t even hear Yoongi if he was saying anything, which you assumed he was quiet, so you became annoyed and, “Why aren’t answering any questions I have??”

Yoongi stood there, with a blank expression, “You wouldn’t even let me talk…”

You answered your own questions, and he was here listening to everything, opening his mouth and closing it before any word could come out because you bulldozed him with words, as he dug out the potatoes you were talking about, as well as the mushrooms.

“I’m sorry, I watched the youtube video on making the stew on the way to the mart and it seems pretty complicated, but doable… I think that the ginger and garlic goes in first,” you paused and sighed, “It’s been awhile since I cooked a proper meal for myself. I don’t know if I had it in me to even do this anymore…”

That’s right. While Yoongi was always away from the last two years, his work trips extended from 3 months to a whole year, and while studying for your master’s degree, you opt for simpler food, just enough for you to get by the day with a filled stomach. Most of your time is dedicated to your studies and laundry. Stopping by Daegu was hardly done, and if anything, you would just send some gifts her way. It is pretty awkward between you and his mother; language barriers, interests, and principles. You didn’t notice when Yoongi was standing behind you, his hand was on top of yours, soothing over your knuckles and he hijacked the scissors from your hands gently.

And he whispered softly atop of your head, “I got this.”

Just like that, he took over kitchen duties and let you handle the simpler stuff like, putting the pot on the stove, fill water in it, skin the potatoes, chopped them into large cubes, unstub the capsicum, peel the skin off of the chicken, peel the garlic and ginger. Yoongi’s instructions are clear and easy to follow. After all the things are chopped and prepared, he hands the ladle to you.

Your eyes widen. And you shook your head. Stepping back. Yoongi clicked his tongue and chuckled through his nose. Coax you. But no, you stepped farther back. He then took your wrist gently and placed the ladle handle in your palm.

“Trust me?” “I trust you, it’s me I don’t trust.”

“I’ll help you every step. Let’s go. Have confidence!” “You’re the multi billionaire, I’m just the struggling degree student with a part time job.”

“You’re Min Yoongi’s wife.” “I find that hard to believe sometimes…”

With another scolding tut of his tongue, you conceded. With a heavy heart.

The chopped chicken pieces are placed in a boiling water pot, and when its reddish flesh turns white and is cooked, it is drained and washed underneath cold running water to remove impurities. You watched quietly as Yoongi cleans them with his capable hands. His veins protrude, extending well over his forearms. The tip of his fingers were pinker than the rest of his hands, and he smoothes over those nooks and crannies the chicken pieces have. As ridiculous as it may sound, you were quite envious of the fact that those chickens have his full attention now. Next, the carrots.

The carotene source is peeled and chopped in large size. Yoongi helped guide your hands over the handle of the knife, because he is pretty particular on how big he wanted those carrots to be.

“Isn’t that too large?” You asked him in a small voice. They are half the size of your thumb. “No, it’s just nice…” he replied in a low voice, his lips just behind your ear, “It has to be in the same size as the potatoes, so it will cook at the same time.”

Your bottom grazed over his front and he learns to just keep you sandwiched in between the counter and him, so it won’t turn to something else. He is just as anxious as you are with his mom coming. Therefore, the percentage of him turning frisky is zero to none. The onions come next. They are chopped in half and then into fours. Yoongi paused and braced himself for tear gas attacks only there was none. He asks where you bought those onions, and you replied, it was grown in your colleagues garden. They were given for free. And he comments,

“They should sell these, we will be their first loyal customer! It doesn’t sting!”

You laughed as you prepared the fruits you bought. It was rock melon and some papayas. You avoided buying tangerine because you know she will bring some from her hometown, knowing how much Yoongi loves them. Daegu’s tangerines are very sweet and plump. There is nothing like it. Yoongi sliced green onions for the stew and extra hot chili peppers because his mom likes them spicy. Then he prepares the mixture for the broth.

“Now watch,” he instructed you, “Soy sauce, rice wine, red chilli pepper powders, minced garlic, two cups of sugar, red pepper paste, sesame oil, pepper. Mix well.”

Yoongi prepared a pot and placed the cleaned chicken pieces in them, added potatoes, carrots and water with the mixture he made just prior. Then, boil. After the chicken is cooked thoroughly, he adds onions. Then the scallions. Then salt to taste. You prepared the oven and Yoongi carried the pot to it to keep it warm until his mom arrived. Dumplings were pan fried. That one was simple. His mom doesn’t like her beverages too sweet, a simple plain water is enough.

When all the food is done, you turn to him at the same time he did. Sweats rolling down his sideburns and his thin white shirt clinging on his skin like he ran a mile. You approached him with a huge smile, swept his hair back to reveal his forehead and dabbed your inner wrist to wipe away his sweat all around his face. He sniggers through his nose. Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, you can’t help but plant a kiss on them. Nuzzling your face on his neck, you draped your arm around his shoulder and mumbled, “Thank you…”

He leans his cheek on your head and kisses one side of your brain, before exclaiming that you both need another shower after cleaning up the kitchen and turning on the air humidifier to chase away the smell of cooking.

“How was the journey?” you chirped. “The weather is scorching hot, the sun is melting me away before I can meet my son,” Yoongi’s mom complained in a thick Daegu accent, and when she stepped in, she gave you a glance and straight away went looking for her precious son. As expected.

“He was just out of the shower, he will come soon, mother,” you said the last word awkwardly, it doesn’t really roll off your tongue as comfortably as it should. She replied to you with a dejected “Hmm.”

You blinked and cast your eyes downwards, then up again to change the topic, “...Let me take you some cold drink… it must have been a torture, to walk around in such hot weather,” you sped to the kitchen and grabbed her a cold water in a tall glass.

“Hello mom…” Yoongi revealed himself from the hallway, gave his mother a hug that you didn’t receive when she walked in. “It wasn’t torture when I’ve come to see my son!” She suddenly changed her words, now she is all bright and cheerful, and you disappeared from her sight completely unless Yoongi looks over to you and includes you in the conversation. That too, wasn’t permanent. Yoongi learned that his older brother’s wife is carrying a baby and Holly had been snuggling to her tummy at every chance she gets. The sight would have been adorable and they were able to take a picture of it so Yoongi’s mom excitedly showed them to Yoongi. They both are sitting on the sofa while you were in the kitchen scooping up cooked rice into bowls of three.

“This sofa is new isn’t it? I didn’t see it the last time I was here,” his mom asked. “Yes, yes… do you like it?” Yoongi said and said you chose them. Then her enthusiasm dissipates. “I like it better without one. Now it’s too westernized,” his mom’s lips turned lopsided, continuing, “Did you know that hanging your legs down will disrupt the blood flow up to your brain? We better sit down on the floor when we eat, too…”

Yoongi prepared a Japanese folded table and pushed aside the coffee table that was there. Everything you’ve prepared on the dining table was moved to the Japanese one. When everything is set, you and Yoongi wait for his mom to start eating before you both do. It’s tradition. Even between man and wife, the older one begins eating first. Yoongi sips the stew and then you begin scooping the stew into your bowl. You were the only one eating mostly with a spoon instead of chopstick since you aren’t too accustomed to it. Yoongi’s mother said in a joking tone that you should start using the training chopstick used by toddlers.

Why are you extra sensitive today? She was just joking, but smiling is so hard right now. Your cheeks feel heavy and your shoulders stiffened. Yoongi carried the rest of the conversation effortlessly. The deep Daegu accent is already shifting your attention towards the fried dumpling instead. It was just a little over 45 minutes since she arrived, why does it feel like days?

“Dumplings, mother?” You chirped, attempted to use the chopstick and successfully landed them in her bowl.

Then she puts them back where they were, and said, “I don’t eat store-bought dumpling, darling,” before resuming to tell Yoongi the story about her neighbour getting into a real estate feud. You hold your breath in your throat and try not to think about it too much. Although you’ve finished your bowl of rice, Yoongi still hasn’t. He was busy nodding away to what his mother was saying. She barely touched the stew. When she turned to her food, you tapped Yoongi’s knee underneath the table and he looked at you wide eyed, darting at the stew. And Yoongi’s lips turned to the shape of an “O”.

“How do you like the stew, mom?” He asked. “It’s okay…” “My wife made it…” Yoongi said with a smug smile.

You smiled, shyly.

“It tastes exactly how Yoongi would cook it. I thought you cooked it, I know how horrible her korean cooking is, Yoongi… You don’t have to lie to me,” his mom passed.

After bidding her farewell at the door, Yoongi accompanied her to his brother’s incoming vehicle that fetches her. His brother made a promise to stop by when the baby arrives and when the Covid cases reduce a bit. You watched from the window from your bedroom and when the car drove off with Yoongi waving goodbye to his mom, your heart thudded differently.

Your eyes stung, and tears impending to fall as it collected around the brims. As you heard the front door beeping open to Yoongi returning, your feet dashed to the bathroom door, pushing it open as your tears rolled down your face like a dam broke.

Sensitive? Too soft? Was I too emotional? Am I not trying hard enough to be enough?

Yoongi walks in, to an eerily silent house. Ridding his shirt by pulling it over his head as he walks down the dimly lit hallway. His heavy footsteps heard across the floorings and you covered your mouth with your hand to not make any sound. He noticed that the bathroom light was on unlike the rest of the room.

“You’re showering alone? Traitor…” he pouted and wriggled the door knob and noticed it was locked from the inside. “I have a stomach ache,” you hoped you sound convincing. Your voice didn’t sound as shaky and you hope he didn’t catch on. “Okay…” he said, after a long pause. You turned the shower on to reduce the sound of you crying, and went back to sitting on the floor by the door, dug the heels of your palm into your eyes socket, and hugged your knees, sniffling.

“Hey…” his voice muffled through the door. “Hmm?” you replied, through a broken smile.

“Are you okay?”

Another dam broke.

Shit, I’ve started crying again. Why can’t I stop crying?! He is going to find out now… Fuck.

“Talk to me. Please… Say something. Anything,” he puts his lips inches away from the door, covering his hand over his mouth to direct the sound towards you, hoping it would get through.

“Was it mom? She says something you don’t like? You know how mom is, right? She doesn’t mean any of it…” now it’s Yoongi’s turned to bulldoze you with questions he himself answered.

Unable to take it anymore, you had to speak out, even if it means behind closed doors.

“I know she doesn’t like me as a daughter-in-law…” you spoke in broken voices. “Nonsense…” Yoongi passed, nonchalantly.

“No, will you please just listen to me?!” you raised your voice a bit, “I am not like your brother’s wife who cooks great Korean food, who sends her nice homemade desserts to her likings, and now is bearing a grandchild for her. I can’t cook, and had to rely on you a lot. She came over and she didn’t give me a hug like she did you, and the whole she doesn’t even speak to me unless I speak to her first, and even then, she shuts me down so I couldn’t say another word. I can’t even use a damn chopstick or make homemade dumplings she’ll eat!”

It’s Yoongi’s turn to lean his back on the door and hug his knees, then hang his head low.

“Suddenly the sofa is too westernized. And the glass doors letting in too much sunlight when I renovated it the way she wanted. It seems like everything I do is wrong and I just have no place in the Min’s household no matter how hard I try,” you sniffed, and, “To make matters worse she brought up the girlfriends you had in high school and how they cook her favourite food! Girlfriends! Plural! Here I thought you only had one… Jokes on me, I guess… It’s fine, honestly.”

There's nothing more terrifying than the word ‘fine’ you threw when you’re sad and Yoongi knows it. It signifies so many things. It indicates that you’re done, and you’re ready to let go of it, by shoving it under the rug like many other things your mother in law did to you ever since you met her. Yoongi shot his head up when the door opened and his eyes followed you in silence, a little solemn. You dried your hair, sitting on the makeup chair table, running the cool air Dyson hairdryer over the lengths of your hair. Yoongi crawled on all four and knelt behind you to hug your waist, nuzzling his face on your lower back. Then the tears returned, and kept falling.

Your gaze is stuck on the reflection of you in the mirror. What have we become?

It was one of those moments where no words seemed to suffice. Regrets and guilt becomes almost the same thing. Pointing the blame is the last thing on your mind. Choosing sides is difficult when so much is at stake. You may have unclasped his arm from around your waist, heard his wordless gesture and refused to see his face, but so much of him is in you. The fact you held on for so long was because of that man you love and married. Is this going to happen everytime your mother in law stops by?

Even then, you didn't want him to go against his own mother, nor do you want him to side with her… It was such a confusing situation.

Yoongi needs to return to the studio. He packs a few toiletries and clothes for him to wear while he is there. You helped him pack leftover food so you are not burdened to finish everything alone. The conversation shifts to what matters now. You carry your duty as a wife, his partner. You make sure that he is able to provide for this family and even though your emotions are once again neglected for the time being, you were glad that it actually occupied your mind and heart.

At the door, his manager carried his things and instead of leaving along with his manager, Yoongi told him to go first. You already know what comes next. But you aren't sure if you had it in you. One look in your eyes and Yoongi knows that you will rather die than have that conversation all over again. He ran his finger through your hair, lowered his lips to your forehead and stayed like that for awhile, and you said,

“Take care of yourself,” you spoke to his chest, breathing in his musky cologne for the days ahead without him. He stepped back, thumbed your cheek and pinched your chin, tilting your head back. He glanced at your lips while biting his own then backed away, to leave. As the view of his back got smaller and smaller, he exclaimed, “I’m going.” Not once did he turn behind to have one last look. And it was something Yoongi would do. Doesn’t matter if it's at the airport, or at the backstage, he will never look at you after he leaves you, even when he knows you’re right there standing, and looking at him. He says that, if he saw you standing there waiting for him, he will not be able to fight the urge to run to you. So he never looks back. The one thing that he always does before a work trip, is to kiss your forehead. Dr. Laurel Steinberg says, a forehead kiss indicates strong emotional intimacy.

But Yoongi says that a forehead kiss to him signifies a bond that goes beyond lust and love, it was your soul. It is to say, “I might be too far away to hold you, but my soul is yours.” It sends butterflies and confettis your way when he does it. It always feels warm and you always feel protected with a stamp of Yoongi’s lips on your forehead. It feels like a talisman. That no matter what, Yoongi is here.

Recovery. The emotional turmoil, the rollercoaster. You fill your time organizing the photos Yoongi took. With your final exams finished a week ago, you’re given a month off before you begin your final year. Yoongi now lives in his studio office because the album recording session begins and he is in every process. He is in charge of doubling and finalizing the tracks, directing and whatnot. Yoongi sends you a 1 minute 23 seconds video. Scowling at it, your face softened at the sight of him, recording himself in the studio. Dark circles doubled in size and his cheeks sunken. Poor thing hadn't been eating well did he?

“Hey, sweetie…” his familiar guttural voice resonated with your heart strings, “Sorry I haven’t been able to properly give you a call. It’s too late when I’m free, and I’m asleep when you’re awake. So I figured I’ll just send you a damn video, to hell with it.” You chuckled softly as your visions turned blurry.

“I think I will be addressing the recent issue we tucked away for later day. It’s later. You have never been good at fighting for yourself. It was something I don’t really understand because I’ve seen you fight my fight for me,” he glanced to the side and smiled fondly. You were unclear what situation he was talking about but you kept listening.

“You told me that I shouldn’t side with you because that would mean I am against my mother. Here’s what I truly think…” he breathed in and sighed loudly, “I think I should side with you. I spoke to my mom a few days ago, asked her how she is, and I told her several things I don’t like, like bringing up my past ex girlfriend, or how you can’t use the chopstick yet, or how your korean cooking isn’t great yet… how upset it made you and me. She told me that she was just jealous. I left home when I was 16. Come back when I am 20, married at 25. I will always be her son, I let her know that. But I am now someone’s husband, and I happen to cherish this someone, her heart and her wellbeing is my responsibility. I am not stolen from my mom, I consciously chose this person to be with me, to be her husband and built a home with her. And if she can’t respect that, then she cannot return to our house…”

You had to set the phone down and wipe your tears with the back of your hand.

“I’m done being a referee,” Yoongi continued after a long pause, “You’re gonna cry again, and I won’t be able to pass you tissue or give you a hug, I hope you understand what I’m trying to say. I am proud of you and all the little things you do. Daegu dialect is difficult to understand ha? That’s alright. You’re getting your degree, and you help pack my things even though you’re sad as hell the day I left. I couldn’t… I couldn’t ask for a better wife, and I hardly think I deserve you. Until we meet again, soon. Your husband, Min Yoongi.”

The video cuts to him winking.

Another text from him,

[Yoongi, 1.03AM] Impression is never permanent. I hope you give mother another try…

Wife is typing...

[Wife, 1.04AM] Erm. [Wife, 1.04AM] Sends a pic.

[Wife, 1.05AM] How’s this for a lasting impression?

.

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.

.

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copyright © 2020 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading

[sunnysviolin]

Omotober Day One- White Space

You can also read it here. This is a continuation of Omori Continues

“Behind that door lives the small child that is the real you. The small child who hurts too much and feels too much and laughs too loud and always believes... true love involves unlocking the many padlocks on that door, taking him by the hand, and guiding him- Joybell C.

“We may never know exactly when or how this began, but if we acknowledge this little one, he will somehow know that we are listening to him.”- Bonnie Badenoch

Omori existed, and then he didn’t.

Sunny had held him, and he had closed his eyes. He stopped existing when he closed his eyes, but that was normal. He didn’t exist a lot of the time, only when Sunny closed his eyes.

Except nowadays when Sunny closed his eyes, Omori still didn’t exist. There was no lightbulb, no door, no neighbor’s room, no headspace. It was just Omori, not existing, but still there. He didn’t know where “there” was, but that was where Omori was now.

In “There”, he had lots of time to think, so Omori thought. He thought about his friends, and he wondered if they were still waiting for him in their technicolor tree house. He thought about Mari and her picnic blankets, about her gentle smiles and cheerful attempts to help him. Omori thought about a lot of things, but the thing he thought about most was Sunny.

Sunny had hugged him, but that wasn’t normal. Omori was used to hugs from his friends, tight squeezes from Basil (almost too tight sometimes) and side grabs from Kel. Omori thought he knew how hugs felt. They were nice, but flat. It was like looking at a picture of a delicious food. It was delectable, desirable even, but underneath that initial thought, there was no substance. It was just something that happened to him.

But hugging Sunny felt, for lack of a better word, like something...more.

Omori didn’t really like Sunny. He spent most of his time trying and succeeding in forgetting that Sunny even existed. Sunny had created him, but Sunny was bad. Omori was supposed to be the good parts of himself that Sunny hid away, because Sunny knew he couldn’t be trusted around good things without hurting them.

Omori wasn’t Sunny, Sunny was a monster, but he knew that he was Sunny’s creation just like everything in headspace was. Did that make him Sunny? Did that make him a monster too? It was easier to just try to stab the older boy than try to wrap his head around all of that. But then Sunny made him feel more.

Omori had never really felt more before, only certain little moments of it during the worst parts of his existence. When he went past just scared, past AFRAID and into STRESSED OUT. When he went past his normal limits and became not quite Omori and not quite Sunny either. He had thought that anything more than what he was had to be bad, because the only time he was more than Omori was when he was hurt or scared. That was why they were all in headspace, wasn’t it? A safe place to lock all the darkness out and only leave the good?

But Sunny’s hug had been more, and Sunny was more, and he had made Omori feel warm for the very first time since he had woken up in White Space on that night.

Omori didn’t know what to make of it, how to try and rebalance what he thought he had known with what he knew now. In the “There” that he was still existing in he tried to find a way that it all made sense, but he couldn’t. There was no reconciling Sunny the Monster with Sunny the Boy. Could they both exist? Then what did that make Omori?

He was There, and There was nothing.

Then There was White Space.

Usually right before he opened his eyes, Omori always had the same two thoughts. Welcome to White Space. You have been living here for as long as you can remember. This time he didn’t think of a thing. One minute he existed “there” and the next he was back in White Space.

Mewo slumbered in the corner of the white rug, and his laptop began the process of booting back up all on its own. He had his box of tissues, full now instead of almost empty, and-

His sketchbook. It was new. Omori could tell you every exact detail of the things in White Space down to a tee. He could tell you where the dents were on his laptop, the exact spot where Mewo loved to be scratched under her chin, even the number of tissues that perpetually existed in his box.

His sketchbook was supposed to be dirty and beaten up, the paper was supposed to be crinkled at the edges. It was a sketchbook filled with drawings that scared him, drawings he knew that he had done, but also had no memory of ever doing. They were only the surface drawings, and Omori was frightened by them because he knew what lay underneath.

This sketchbook was sleek, black leather with crisp white pages, his name embossed in gold on the cover. Next to it sat an open pencil box, clear plastic blue filled to the brim with sharp colored pencils. Omori stood up from where he had been sitting on the blanket, and walked over. He kneeled by the new items and picked up the box, inspecting its contents.

He had never had blue before, or green or purple. A full glossy rainbow of options was peering out at him, waiting to be used. Omori shut the box, the box clasping shut with a neat snap that echoed into the white. Omori jumped at the sound, startled. The only sounds he ever heard in here was Mewo, the knife falling, or his laptop booting up. He opened and shut the box a few more times, just to hear the new sound again. Then he put it down and picked up the other new item.

The sketchbook was heavier than his other one. He ran a finger along the letters of his name, the gold glinting and soft to the touch. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to open it, it was so beautiful the way it was. Seeing the drawings inside would ruin it.

Omori didn’t want to see them, to have to look at Sunny’s nightmares, or the fragments of Black Space he could never fully purge from his mind. Maybe he didn’t have to look, he could just keep the book sitting here on his thighs until Sunny awoke again and took him back to the There.

A familiar sound came from behind him, and then Mewo was brushing against his leg, sitting in front of him and pawing at the book. Omori raised a hand and pet between her ears, giving one long stroke down her back the way she liked and then a small scratch under the chin. She purred and then gave another soft meow, asking him her standard question.

Waiting for something to happen?

Omori hummed and gave Mewo another long stroke, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for what was to come. He closed his eyes when he flipped the cover of the book open, feeling on the page with his fingers. On his old book he could feel the shape of the pencil marks, the harsh jagged lines of black and red that marred his memories. He couldn’t feel anything. There was nothing under his fingers but paper. Omori opened his eyes.

The page was blank. He flipped through the pages, his pace slow but gathering pace as it went. Finally he reached the other cover, white turning to black. The entire book was blank. Was it...for him? How did it exist?

Did Sunny make it for him?

Sunny had never made him anything before. Sunny had just created the things he wanted, or chosen to protect the things he didn’t want to ruin. Sunny had never made anything just for Omori before. Mewo made a soft noise and picked herself back up, going to his side again and lying down against him, her neck stretching so her little head was in his lap alongside the book.

Omori was frozen, his mind swirling and racing. This had never happened before, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He was so used to the monotony of headspace, of repeating the same journey over and over. It all always happened the same way, it had a formula.

The formula had never been interested in his happiness before. He had just assumed Sunny couldn’t care less.

Eventually his legs started to cramp up, and Omori changed positions, lying on his stomach with the sketchbook sitting between his arms as he stared at it. Mewo wasn’t happy about this change, but she took advantage of it and jumped onto his back, kneading his muscles with her paws until she was satisfied and then lying back down. Once she was settled, Omori decided to gather his courage and test it.

Slowly he reached towards the blue plastic of the pencil box, not taking his gaze off the sketchbook. He kept his eyes glued to the page, expecting at any second for the white to vanish and for the horrors of before to replace it.

But they didn’t. Not even when he opened the box and took out the deep purple pencil and put it against the paper. The first stroke was just that, only a stroke. It wasn’t a picture, it wasn’t even an idea. It was just a stripe of purple on white. He stared at it and waited, but nothing changed. Mewo continued to sleep, the pencils sat in the box, and the purple stayed.

With constant pauses of hesitation, Omori flipped to the next page and started to doodle, switching pencil as he pleased. He ignored the red and black, but every other color was up for grabs. Soon enough he had a scene of the playground with all of his friends, Mari’s picnic blanket checkered with blue instead. Once he was done with that, something unexpected happened.

A blinding joy struck Omori, starting at his center and spreading up to his head. He was smiling, nearly giddy as he looked down at his drawing. It wasn’t like being MANIC, it wasn’t an overwhelming emotion that clouded everything around him and left him vulnerable. It was just happiness, clear in his mind and wiping away the fears that left him guarded. He flipped to the next blank page and dove into another drawing, fingers working at a rapid pace to make the next one.

He wasn’t sure how long he had spent drawing, time was always funny in White Space, but eventually his attention was coaxed away from his drawing and to something else new on his blanket.

It was a tiny plastic ball with circles cut out of it, inside he could see something golden. Mewo awoke when he shifted, and she let out a soft trilling noise, hoping down from her spot on his back and towards the ball. She sniffed it and batted it with a paw, a soft tinkling noise filling the air around him. Mewo was entranced, her pupils growing big and black as she pushed the ball again to hear the bell and her tail swung back and forth.

Omori watched her play for a while, and then he turned back to his book to draw what he saw. The sound of her ball rolling around in the background filled the empty air, and the JOY was joined by happiness for Mewo that she also had a new gift to enjoy.

Things began to appear in this fashion. Time passed in the too slow too fast way it always did, and new things would show up. His new sketchbook filled up quickly, and the moment it did there was another next to it. Omori was afraid at first that his drawings would disappear, but both books stayed side by side.

Soon enough he had a shelf too to put his completed books on, and his colored pencils were joined with markers. A blanket appeared, smaller than the one he was sitting on, but infinitely more luxurious. It was a rich blue with tiny white dots that looked like stars. Mewo enjoyed this gift just as much as he did, and she spent her time either dozing on its soft surface or playing with her small collection of new toys, the tiny bell ball continuing to be her favorite.

Omori liked all of the new additions to White Space, but if he had to choose a favorite, it would be his new light. The dark bulb that had hung above him was gone, the Black Space within it no longer hidden, but eradicated for good. In its place, Omori had a string of twinkling sea angels, hanging on nothing but the air. They swam above him when he lied down under the blankets with Mewo, swaying in an invisible breeze.

The more things were added, the more Omori felt. These were things with color, with sound and feeling. Things that made him feel more. White Space was no longer just where he existed. Now it felt...more like home.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Remember?

Summary- 1.9k Frank Adler x You. Frank wakes you up at the ungodly hour of 3:30 am and will not even tell you why. Written for @stargazingfangirl18​ 5k challenge

Warnings- like... barely there mention hint of smut? But just barely? I cant even count it as a warning to be honest. 

A/N- so yes this is written for a soft!dark challenge, but dark writing just isn't happening. I went with just soft and with the prompt of lazy make out session.I really wanted to make sure I was giving something to Siri’s challenge because she works so hard on providing us wonderful fics to enjoy, is incredibly supportive and honestly she deserves it. Much love always babes and thank you for all you do.  

A/N 2- Can be read as a one shot. It is in the same verse as Oppressive. Also trying out a new site to make moodboards. I kinda like it? what do you all think? And I know the Fort Myers pier is made from concrete, not wood, but I wanted wood. So I went with wood. I always appreciate your thoughts on a fic. Alright, Much Love, Happy Reading! 🌊

“Baby wake up.” You heard a husky whisper in your ear as well as a rough scrape against your shoulder from Franks cheek as he pressed in close to your back, the soft hairs of his chest pressed into your sleepy warm skin and you muttered a no into your pillow as you hid your face into the cotton covers. 

He must be out of his ever loving mind to think you were going to wake up at… a quick peek at the old 80’s looking radio clock Frank loved sitting on his night stand. The red numbers were unfocused at first, but blurry sharpened to three thirty am. Yes, your man was crazy to think you were up for anything at all, and the way he was pressed into your ass cheeks, you suspected he woke up early for sex. 

That was going to be a hell no. “Frank go back to sleep. I will fuck you later.” You promised as you shifted back into your warm safe hollow. He chuckled gruffly and his hands slid on your hips to twist you to fast him, causing you to sigh and blink up at him. In the dark of the room, his eyes were a dull blue shining down at you amused. You though were no in that same mood as you blinked up at him, pushing a hand against his chest. “Come on Frank, I'm not in the mood. I was sleeping so good.” 

“You would think I would wake you up just for sex.” Frank scoffed.

“It wouldn't be the first time.” 

“Probably won't be the last either, but that's not what this is about. Come on Sweetheart, get up. I have a surprise.” He tapped your ass and pulled away as you were groaning, knowing sleep simply wasn't going to happen. 

“Adler, I swear to all that is holy, this better be good.” You grumbled as you sat up and tried to wake up. Frank came back out with some clothing for you, a pair of capris, tee shirt and undergarments. You looked at the casual clothing and arched your brows. “Where are you dragging me?” 

“Its a surprise, trust me, those are appropriate.” He started as he dressed in some old faded blue jeans and grey tee. Wherever he was taking you wasn't going to require dressing up too much, so you just pulled your hair back into a tie, and didn't bother with makeup. He kept glancing at his watch, and by three fifty he had you out the door and to his pickup truck. He tossed a bag in the back and when you went to question it, he shook his head firmly in a no while ushering you into the passenger side. “Part of it, just trust me.” 

“I trust you to have something up your sleeve Adler, considering you know I love my sleep in on Saturday Morning.” You grumbled under your breath. Typically you and Frank slept late Saturdays. Mary would go to Roberta’s Friday night for her weekly sleepover that both woman and child insisted on, you and Frank would go to the local bar for a night of cold drinks, games of pool and the occasional dancing when you could get Frank drunk enough to go on the small dance floor. Simple, but you always had a good time. Saturday was recovery day. 

So why was he dragging you out of bed on recovery day? 

“So a hint?” You decide to pester a bit, sliding closer on the bench seat till you were against his side, his arm circling around your shoulder to tuck you in closer and press a kiss to your temple. You could feel his lips upturned to a smirk against the side of your head. 

“You want a hint… It has to be done early in the morning.” 

You rolled your eyes at him with a huff, dropping your hand to dance your fingers against a jean clad thigh, making his eyes dart down to your hand. “I want better then that.” 

“You are not gonna get it Baby, but you can try your best.” 

He really was being serious this time, because he caught your hand from wandering up to far and brought it to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“Alright Adler, keep your secrets then.” You let your head rest on his shoulder and eyes close. Frank was stubborn, always had been. You knew when you just had to let it go. You drifted in and out as he sped along the interstate. Soon he was turning off, but you weren't quick enough to catch what the exit was, so still had no idea. 

“Are we there?” 

“Close, you don't know where we are?” He asked with a slight laugh in his voice. You shrug a bit as you two are driving down the main drag of the area, passing all night gas stations, fast food chain restaurants, outlet stores and parking lots. 

“No clue, every place in Florida has this Frank.” 

He hummed a bit, slowing to an intersection and flicking on his blinker. “True, but you will soon see.” He winked as he made the turn, pulling away from the city-like area and moving towards the beach strip. Where million dollar homes, hotels, and beach side tourist traps laid quiet in the barely morning hours. It was starting to lighten though, you could see the black blue of the night sky make way for lighter purples and pinks. 

So you remained patient, waiting for wherever Frank was taking you. The terrain started to get sandier, the crack of the window took on a breezy salty scent and you could taste the hint of surf and sand in the air. Your lips turned upwards, just that scent alone reminded you of a couple years ago, and it all clicked right where you were. 

Your first overnight away from home with Frank was to Fort Myers, a small rundown motel on the beach. The room was iffy, the Ac barely worked, neither of you dared to use the pool. At the time it was all you two could afford. And it was all perfect. 

Because that morning, before sunrise, you two escaped to the beach, arm in arm and sat in the dunes to watch the sunrise over the crashing ocean, and all was perfect in the world with each other. 

Frank glanced over to see the knowing look on your face, and his own softened in a smile, his hand coming to grasp the inside of your thigh gently, squeezing. “Now you know?” He pulled into an almost deserted parking lot. At the other end were a group of people, unstrapping their boards to get ready to go into the surf. 

“Of course Frankie.” You said with a touch of sentiment in your tone as you leaned over to peck his lips and nip at him playfully. “How can I forget?” You pull away suddenly and jump out of the car, yanking off your shoes to ditch in the truck. Frank followed, doing the same with his own boots. 

You had already taken off into the sand, making your way towards the surf to dig your feet into the wet sand happily. Now it was getting lighter, those dark purples and pinks made way for the reds and oranges as the barest hint of the sun kissed the horizon. 

Frank came up behind, having managed to yank his jeans up partially around his calves and pressed you two to walk out a bit further into the surf, the salt water spritzing you both in a fine cooling mist, clinging to your skin, in your hair, on your clothes. It all brought back the sensations of that first trip together. You fall back into his chest while he dips his head to mouth kisses into your neck, enjoying the quiet of the moment with you in a more physical way for a moment. Making you tilt your head to the side while the sun finally broke. 

From the nearby pier, heavy pelicans lined the side to swoop down, skimming over the water in lines, giving the two of you a show all for yourselves, among the surf the small sandpipers chased after the tiny ghost crabs trying to escape back into the surf, all of it made you smile. This felt like home to you, right here with Frank. 

“It feels like forever since we have visited.” You finally say as you turn to face Frank, the two of you stepping out of the surf, and hand in hand making your way along the beach's edge towards the pier, the sandpipers running away as fast as they could, a few taking to wing to fly several yards ahead of you to start there search in the surf retreating back from the edge once more. 

“Been a couple years at least. I was looking at the calendar and realized an anniversary of ours was coming up.” He mentioned while you two stepped under the pier. A small private world for you two at the moment as far above you people made their way towards the end stretching out over the water, ready to drip lines for fishing in the surf. Here though, underneath it all, was just for you and Frank. 

Nothing but water crashing to the shore, wood above your heads and the morning bringing back fond memories. Memories of shared kisses against one of the ageless logs helping to hold the deck yards above them steady, the way your legs wrapped around his hips as he pinned you in place and loved you so freely out in the open where they could be caught. How afterwards Frank said those words that he never uttered to anyone else in the way he said it to you. 

Fuck I think I love you. 

You thought then you loved him to. Now you knew you did. Your fingers looped in his belt loops and you walked backwards, till your back pressed once more against that sand and salt aged wood, looking up at him in the now very present dawn. 

“You know Frank, I think I love you.” 

“You know what Y/N, I think I love you too.” He winked, sliding in closer till he was pressed against you, his hands cupping the side of your face and tilting up to meet him, his tongue sliding past soft lips to the sweet heat of your mouth and tangling his tongue with yours. It elicited a soft moan from the back of your throat. 

Warming salty air really agreed with Frank, mixing the tastes on your tongue, you curled your arms around his body, clutching at his back as you now clung to him, thoroughly enjoying the way this kiss made you feel. 

The sensations of love and passion curling in your belly and your heart thud against your breast bone, absorbing into Frank as he pressed into your body, trying to daze you from rational thoughts, away from the everyday thoughts. 

Frank had a talent at making you appreciate the here and now. 

And right here, with sand covering your feet, your shirt and pants clinging to you from the ocean spray and your man completely pressing every ounce of his affection into you, you could do nothing but appreciate being in the moment. 

“Scratch that, I don't think, I know I love you Frank Adler.” You managed to break out of his kiss for half a second. 

“I know you do.” He assured you as he grasped the back of your thighs and lifted you enough to fold your legs around his waist. “I plan on showing you just how I feel.” He promised, the glint in his ocean blue eyes turning mischievously playful under that pier.