#my own closet is my greatest muse

[doyouknowthemossinman]

still struggling. have helsknight in the freaks jacket

[cherubofthenight]

Manifesting my Dream Self 🍦🍓

i had to post this cuz i culdnt find it when i posted it privately yikes

if someone does read this, note that i do acknowledge 'her' as me and this is just to make it more fun :)

1) characterization

Determining her physical, mental and emotional traits. Her goals, her values, her morals. What is she like? How would you want people to describe her? Does she have a good relationship with her family? Does she have a s/o? Things like that.

2) bring her to life

Do as she would do. Dress as she would dress (if possible). Act as she would act. Stick by everything I decided for her. Positive self talk- which will be manual until I grasp it and it becomes automatically. Even if I slip. It’s okay, after all I’m human - I make mistakes.

3) staying on track

Keep a log of this by journalling. Create playlists that align with me. Pinterest boards that align as well and all of my social media will align with me (following blogs that align with me and my goals, subscribing to YouTubers who encourage what I'm looking for etc) so I’m surrounded by this energy.

Yuh, getting into it!

When I picture her, I see what I decided about her, thus that’s what I see when I picture myself.

So what I decided about her.

She has pretty, big doe eyes with perfect 20/20 vision, and long, full, cartoon-like lashes. Her lips are soft, plush, and two-toned, and her dark brown 4a/4b hair is healthy, thick, and long. She’s got the cutest button nose that makes you want to boop it, and her eyebrows? Absolutely perfect. Her face is beautifully balanced, with clear, glassy, dewy skin that’s soft and smooth. She’s got small hands and feet, and a pear-shaped body with curves in all the right places. And aside from her scalp, lashes, and brows, she’s completely hairless—taking care of herself is her priority.

People often compare her to a doll, but she’s known for her sweet yet take-no-shit attitude. She’s an absolute sweetheart and a treasure, and luckily, she knows it. There’s no one quite like her, and she only deserves the best. Anyone who gets to be in her presence is lucky, and she knows she’s her own muse. Despite the confidence she exudes, she’s always working on bettering herself, knowing growth is part of life. She values authenticity and surrounds herself with people who appreciate her strength and softer side.

She’s independent, self-assured, and deeply compassionate, striking the perfect balance between confidence and kindness. Her sweetness is just who she is—it’s not something she tries to perform. She’s all about meaningful connections and is always there for the people she loves. She moves through the world with a gentle grace, and her kindness reflects how much she loves herself. She never seeks validation because she already knows her worth. She’s happiest in her own peace, and her warmth radiates wherever she goes. She loves her own company and is her own greatest inspiration.

She recently moved into her own apartment, where everything reflects her style—immaculate and organized. She drives a matte black Audi RS, a white Honda CRV, and a pink Mazda Miata. Her closet is filled with the finest pieces, blending simplicity and elegance, so she’s always effortlessly chic. And of course, accessories are a girl’s best friend (besides herself, obviously). She’s committed to her well-being, practicing yoga or Pilates daily for balance and serenity. When she wants to push herself, she turns to calisthenics. She loves cooking healthy meals and experimenting with recipes to nourish her body and mind.

She’s got a boyfriend who’s intelligent, attentive, and hilarious. He has an incredible job with flexible hours, and he’s got two cars of his own. He can dance, sing, and is a family man, soft-spoken, a lover boy, and a bit nerdy, too. He’s obsessed with her (in a healthy way!) and always makes her happiness a priority. He even plans to buy her a pink Porsche 911 Turbo S (because she’s been dreaming of one).

She believes to be a pretty, artistic, strong, diligent yet delicate person.

Rules:

1. Starting to plan to start and end my day with a little prayer to myself, gratitude first and then reminder of the dream girl I am and will be.

2. Taking time to connect with nature or engage in outdoor activities

3. Practicing daily meditation or mindfulness

4. Surrounding herself with positive and supportive people

5. Setting achievable goals and celebrating small successes

6. Maintaining a healthy lifestyle by eating nutritious meals and getting enough sleep

7. Being willing to step outside of their comfort zone and try new things

8. Prioritizing self-care and making time for activities that bring joy and relaxation

Snippet of my Pinterest board:

what's mine will always find me <3

My spotify playlist:

Suggestions are welcome !

My fav affirmations:

what's mine will always find me

i don't chase, i attract

i'm not afraid to get what i want

my value exists out of what others think of me.

my potential is limitless, and anything is possible as long as I believe

and most importantly,

The reminder that I'm already her, no matter what.

I go more in-depth in my notion but this is basically the outline for what I’m gonna do.

And a small note:

everything that I claimed is mine has proven itself to be true.

From Bambi, To Doll, Love, you 😘 .

[the-doomed-witch]

hey boo, can u make 1800's reader and married nat having secret affair but reader convinces nat to run away with her somewhere else where they can live and love peacefully, inspired by ivy and the lakes

MAGNIFICENTLY CURSED

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You question your need for running away with the woman you love passionately, but her dreamy desires do it for you anyway. // based on ivy by Taylor Swift; the lakes by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 1.0k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS+MEN DNI. set in the 1800s, infidelity, homophobia + closeting, allusions to smut not really described, nat is like a whole ass poet bro i will cry 😭

SEND ME REQUESTS BASED ON TAYLOR SWIFT SONGS

Author’s Note: hi anon, i hope this justifies your request <3 obviously this is emisue-dead poets society-anne with an e-elizabeth bennet coded bc i’m a raging lesbian with an obsession with the 1800s for no reason at all🤭

MASTERLIST // NAVIGATION

— ✦ —

Stealing glances with Natasha was the glory of her. She was a distinguished woman, known to be married to one of the most revered men in town. The ladies at the lunch discussed stories of her well established marriage, but no one knew the truth except you, and Natasha.

Sometimes you would go to meet her, with the excuse of needing to talk with her clinquishly. Her husband was a fine fellow, a gentleman who’d welcome you to their warm domicile, and let you take your time alone with his wife.

On the days when your blood boiled with envy of his nauseating smile, you’d meet her in forbidden places, near rivers of estrangement, and away from the common folk.

She held no love for him, you weren’t oblivious like the neighbourhood women. What made you bitter was the way he was associated with her throughout the town. He was the one credited with your efforts of making her the happiest woman around.

Oh how you longed for Natasha to be known as your lady.

But it’s worth struggling for, when she touches your lips, when she kisses them, and when her hands entangle with yours. “My most beloved,” she addresses you every time before she dares to break the space between the two of you. You respond, “Yes, my lady.” before leaning in.

It’s been years of meeting Natasha in darkness and in delight, touching her as if speaking of poetry. Your hands find their place in the heat beneath her gown, leaving her to the euphoria of gushing. She does the same for you in return, sometimes sitting on her knees to have a peek of what her fingers feel.

You have a rendezvous in the privacy of her own house, while he’s patiently sitting on the porch, doing something like pretending to read a newspaper. She sighs loudly against your kiss, it’s almost romantical.

He knocks on the shut door, asking if everything was alright. You break your contact with her abruptly, and answer him with a loud, stern voice, “Yes, Natasha is trying a new corset I brought along with me. Nothing to worry about.” He walks away with not a single penny of care, unbeknownst to everything you could do only if his wife had her corset taken off.

“I sense something bizarre about you today, my love.” she remarks, pushing your back against the stone cold wall, opposite to which is sat the notorious husband. To think the two of you could be vulnerable within inches was a terrifying thought. “I don’t think standing here is a good idea..”

“What would he even do if he finds us out? He can burn this house all he wants, at least my death greets me with you in my arms.”

“Natasha…”

“Tell me what is troubling you, my Y/N. What is so tragical that I can’t take it away from you?”

Her poetic mouth never failed to leave you enraptured. “W- well, all I've thought of since the past nights is running away. I mean to take you along, but I’m troubled by all the presumed consequences.”

“You meaning to take me along is singularly the greatest thing I’ve heard. To be with my muse, in a place where all the poets went to die, is a privilege I'm blessed to have.”

“I don’t belong, and Natasha, neither do you, you understand it, and I know it. But going out into the wild, with no shelter to take? I’m worried to death.”

“Again, my beloved, at least death greets us with you in my arms. I don’t fear it.”

You entwine your finger in her fierce red hair, and pull her face close to yours till you can hear her breathe and feel her heart pound against your chest and tell her, “Your musings, God, they make me want to be with you all the time, alone. Your poetry is the sole reason I live, dearest.”

“You’re the sole reason my poetry lives. You’re my muse, Y/N.”

You push her against her vanity, with an attempt to taste her delicacy, this time not confining her sounds to your secrecy. You lift up your leg, to give Natasha a place for grinding slowly. The skirt of her apron is lifted, along with her pale yellow dress.

The door smashes open, with her husband walking in, “You’ve been alone for far too- What is going on here?!”

Natasha speaks in a fake pleading voice, “Sir, let me explain to you.” before she gives you a long kiss, and grabs your hand. She squeezes your palm, hinting you to follow her along.

His chin falls agape, the green nerves of around his wrist pop out, irefully.

“What monstrosity is this, Natasha? I thought you were a pristine lady, but evidently you’re a disgustful woman! You should be- Get away from her Y/N!” He comes forward to push you away, but she doesn’t let him finish, and runs out of the house with you.

You hold up your dress to make yourself a room to run with her through the fields. After fleeing for a while, you notice he has missed the trail. So she tugs your arm again, making you run till you reach the illustrious lake, till you’re out of breath.

She laughs as you hold her in an embrace, and screams towards the deserted forests and mountains on the other side of the lake, “I can feel the freedom in me. I can feel it in my blood!” Her voice echoes back at you.

You join her laughter, eyes filled with tears, and cry out, “I am in love with Natasha! I am a woman, and I wholeheartedly love another.” She pecks your lips repeatedly, till you can’t stop laughing and hold her blushing red cheeks away from yours, “We’ll find ourselves a home, we’ll find us a way to live. I promise you.”

You lace her gentle hands with yours. They’re cold with the breeze and the disquietude. You grasp her untamed heart, and she cleaves on to your pain.

[deputygonebye]

@brooklynislandgirl asked: It isn't often that she and Shane are... well, allowed isn't the right word, is it? No one is technically holding them against their will, they could not call the situation Stockholm Syndrome or anything of the like, but it is a matter of sense and responsibility.

There really happens to be no question that Shane is their greatest warrior, a knight-defender whose entire mindset and body is ready to protect the group and their interests at whatever cost. She doesn't ever tell him how much that stalwart nature of his scares her when she has to watch him go. And just maybe, deep down, Beth wants to believe that Shane feels that same feeling in the pit of his stomach when he has to leave her behind in camp when he forages for supplies or goes on patrol.

Like it or not, it makes sense that she stays behind. With Lori in her condition, and Doc Greene being a man of a certain age with veterinary skills while hers stay grounded in human medicine? It would be fool-hardy to risk sending a doctor in Walker-infested wilds. Problem with that, she'd almost argue is that there's no promise as the days drag on that the farm itself won't be overrun. And she won't add more weight to his shoulders by confessing that fear.

But there are things she needs to keep up the health and sanity of the group. She could describe them, write it down, send him off and then settle back to wait and hope. But Shane's girl? Small as she is, she's quick, soundless. She's agile. She's strong in her own way and so she holds firm, insisting the foraging party would have better luck in taking her, especially with Daryl is still not a hundred percent.

And she's not wholly disappointed when the night and the weather turn against them. Shane finds an abandoned house and is fast at sweeping through it. Their luck there are no bodies rotting with in, nor is it occupied by the enemy whatever form it wishes to take.

They make short work of setting up a nest on the second floor, a mostly boarded up window for vantage, stringed cans across the stairs at intervals for an alarm. The delight of clean sheets and blankets from the bathroom's linen closet and when was the last time they could say they had something not washed in river water?

Maybe it's a moment of actual privacy in a relatively luxurious space. Maybe it's the way his shirt strains against his shoulders as he opens cans ~they can spare a few, this once. After all, what good are they to the group if they don't make it back?~ so that he can cautiously heat up supper for them. Or maybe. Just maybe... Beth wants to feel him close. To breath him in and suck the heat out of his bones to banish all the dark things that lurk inside of her.

Whatever it is, she finds herself wrapping her fingers at his hips, half pushing-half pulling him away from the counter. A few tripping steps and she's pushing him against the wall of the dining room, just on the other side of the marble island. Straining on the tips of her toes to try and buy just one more inch to get closer to his mouth, she still comes up just a little short.

Beth knows how to improvise. Letting him go, she slips fingertips into the collar of his shirt and tugs it down. Her lips fix themselves to his bones there. The soft press of full lips becomes a wet little suckling motion as if she doesn't have a care in the world about leaving her mark on him.

She really doesn't. Care, that is. Not when she feels the heat. The steady beat of his pulse. Tastes the salt on his skin, and she sighs, eyes half-closing.

Send me “Against The Wall” to slam my muse up against a wall and kiss them.

Once more another darkened night, the marriage of storm clouds and dulled moon, into a home that wasn't their own did Shane and his Beth go. Nestled within a neighborhood whose blue sign was beaten down by the elements and hands grayed - Wiltshire Estates - scratched around the lettering, the hinges almost wholly loose from the metallic post. Proud on the corner where sidewalk led the way, the roof of the home was pristine in nature, untouched, would serve well to keep out the unwanted, both alive and not so. Lifeless slate that went about in rows and rows of shingle; the inside of the home was pleasant and quaint, the memories of an old couple still stationed on the walls, their faces forever hung in picture frames, smiling with cheeks painted pink. Arms wrapped around each other, wife and husband united in more than their silver, their ultimate fate uncertain. Shane gone from one end of the house to another, Beretta 96 handled in steady, tight grip, finger readied at the trigger, unable to find those lost lovers. Neither them nor any Geek of similar kind, for the time spent, he and Beth would be protected. Safe from an end worse than death - in a home that wasn't, couldn't, be theirs.

Cans not used for the sake of security measures, that was to be dinner. Cracked open by hand and eyed with the same sort of disinterest, both mind and belly that yearned for more and better. Too tired of the same bland and tasteless meals; unable to stomach the heaviness that came about from beans, the lack of full from corn or carrots. Desired so much for what was used to be had, straight from the oven, smothered in sauce and hot to the tastebuds, the flavors that spoke delicious. What could impress and what did so, what Shane would've cooked for Beth had the Lord above been kinder. Less harsh in the remaking of the world, when such things mattered most in life, the play that came about from courtship and dating, romance and sweet beginnings. Dates from home, surrounded by the comforts that were so easily taken for granted, to winnow the bad and never the good. More than room temperature canned delights, what Beth deserved, their relationship too beautiful for such messes.

So pure, nearly had Shane been completely overwhelmed by it. Stunned, his feet almost knocked out from under him, his entire heart stolen from his chest before he so much realized. An attraction so devastating; the love he felt for Beth was painful, an agony that worked its way into bliss, the sort of hurt that he bore happily. Compared to none, there was no love greater to Shane than Beth. Always sought for but never found, the faces of the past blurred together, mere moments to a life that desired more, craved more. Assumed to have discovered such in Lori - bonded by trauma, lust fall into so soon as the ways of the heart - Shane left all alone, in the end. A man scorned, lover thrusted from warm embrace, a father pushed aside because the truth was too bitter a pill. Much too difficult to swallow with dry throat, the mutual sin that couldn't ever be changed, the faults of two but suffered separately. Ardor akin to a whirlwind - hurricane of emotion and wounded feelings - from Beth did Shane comprehend how foolish he had been. Beth was that real love. Long awaited for, too precious to ever let go of, would die for without question.

Slender bone around his hips, pulled away from the newest of opened canned goods, when his back met hard wall, Shane was drawn from his daydreams, the thoughts that always tried to outrun him. Pinned at the point between kitchen and dining room, helpless, traditional roles reversed because of determined plan. Fingers around his shirt neck, the yank to the cloth strong but not brutal, directed just where Beth wished him to be. Not given the chance to protest - not for a second did such words dare to escape his lips - her mouth on his flesh, the mark of Beth deeply rooted in the space of collarbone. Expanse that couldn't be hidden by properly adjusted shirt or collar; bound to be mullberry, the sweetest of fruits, labors so dedicated. Like the tartness of the berries they shared when love was first confessed, all over their mouths and fingers, chased by kisses, a rumble started in Shane. Carried from his throat upward, the sort of purr that signaled more possessive streaks, fell from his lips in the shape of a moan.

Hands taken from the space at his sides, empty and hung lazily, to the curve of Beth's thighs, into a lift did Shane force her position. Scooped into his arms and held by his waist, until her legs wrapped around his hips and locked, Beth looking down to him, he up to her. Glance so warmed that they could be compared to sparks; brown turned into blaze, the juncture of sane man and untamed animal. Wordlessly, with his touch still kept at her thighs and legs, Shane kissed Beth. Propped her against himself as he spun them both around, placed her against the wall instead, pressed his weight to her and kept her there, attacked her with kisses. Kisses and more kisses; the gentle slide of his tongue over her lips, across her neck as his face slid south.

"Markin' me up, baby? Wanna make sure, that when we get back to the others, everybody knows I'm yours?"

Shane whispered, voice like honey, liquid gold and decadence, parted only by kisses. "Do it, Beth. Mark me. Bite me. Sink your teeth into me - do whatever you want to me, darlin'. Make me yours - I am yours. Just like you're mine. All mine, always mine; gonna leave my mark on you. You want that? Beth? You want me to do that, cover every inch of you in love bites? Mark you with my teeth, my tongue? Ain't nobody gonna question who you belong to after, who either one of us belongs to. Say the word, baby. Just say the word. Tell me, Beth."

[mielesis]

It's been so long... and still, I can assure you I've grown like no one else has. I've accomplished so much in these past two years.

I have lived in Las Vegas three times. I have dated people who were just my time and thought I would never be able to meet guys like them. I have met very successful people. I have met my favorite celebrities and gone to my dream concert. I have my dream closet. I've finally moved to Spain.

I've attracted so many things. I'm still out here, with the greatest mindset, waiting for my blessings to come. When you realize you're actually energy in human form, everything shifts. I can do anything. We're all connected, what's theirs is also mine. However, I've lost myself countless of times. I've struggled. I've thought I wouldn't be able to make it, to change, to get better. But, how am I now? WHO am I now? I'm my own god, I've always been my own god. I've interacted with many other gods, we're all one. I've had nothing and everything. I've had everything and nothing. It's hard to mantain such mindset but it's an everyday's practice too.

I'm great and I know what I deserve. If I think I deserve good things, why would I be convinced otherwise? I'm a being of light, I'm made of love with the purpose to love. I also thought that being the non chalant / cool type of girl would take me further, reality is it didnt't take me anywhere but with guys who didn't respect me. Why? because I wasn't even respecting myself, I was only respecting THEM. I saw them as superior, I saw them as the validating source of my own self. Truth is, they were just a reflection of me. I now don't take any disrespect and aim higher, because I got higher. I know who I am, I know what I deserve, I know what I want. I'm my own muse, why wouldn't I be theirs? if they're also my muse. It didn't matter if I was nice, successful, caring. None of that mattered to them.

[ofinfinitedreams]

Rosalie was bursting with pride. Her body ached but it was the utmost divine sensation as she thrummed blissfully. It was an indescribable wet 'n' wild time in the shower as he had shown her new greatest heights of pleasure she ever had the experience of knowing. Her eyes fluttered whilst her climax slowing dropped. It was equal amounts of love and burgeoning lust and desire that fueled her within. A soft sigh expelled from her lips at his compliment. It was exactly what she needed to hear and it thrilled her to the core he felt that way. The blonde extremely content as he took great care of her washing her afterwards, she felt safe with him.

She didn't know what to do with herself after, but luckily for her he did. She was still in her head quite a bit, lost to the world and in her thoughts at the most insane, sinful and wicked rapture that just occurred. The brightest smile graced her lips at the feel of his hands upon hers, seeking hers and grounding her. "Si," she murmured. "Thank you," she answered softly as she wrapped the towel around her petite form. A slight wince escaped as she lightly toweled herself off. The bruises that lightly formed on her porcelain skin on her hips and waist. Along with her rear still severely sore but well worth it. To have shared this with him filled her with an abundant amount of love. Her mouth opened and closed at the feel of his hands on her waist. His teasing question elicited a low chuckle to fall from her lips, as she spun around and gingerly tapped his chest. "I'm afraid so. You have worn me out, old man," she voiced in a light-hearted manner. "Mmm. You're most welcome. I trust you with my life Si. You have my heart in your hands," she whispered. A low hum of satisfaction emitted from her throat, as he tenderly caressed her cheek. "You've gone above and beyond, Si. Okay okay," she stated as her hues gazed into his adoringly. "I won't be too long, I promise," she sighed into their chaste kiss before he departed. Her heart pounding rapidly in her chest. Whenever she was around him she was unable to keep her emotions in check, as she always wore her heart on her sleeve.

Once in her bedroom, after being completely dry she took a few more minutes to ponder what she would wear. As she searched through her closet she decided upon a light summer dress, that had cute little bows on the shoulder straps. Making her way down the stairs as soon as she entered the kitchen, the aroma flooded her senses as she inhaled deeply. "My, My Si. You are a man of wonders," she mused as she casually sauntered towards him. With a warm smile as she let her own orbs roam his appearance. Her tongue darting out to wet her lips. A low hum fell as she noted his flush face, it made her overcome with pride to she could evoke that reaction. She found it and him especially adorable.

She spun around letting the hem of her dress fly up teasing him, "You like?" she questioned shyly. "What do we have here? A feast for moi. Such a gentleman," she cooed as she stepped onto her toes to capture his lips with hers in a kiss filled with immense love, she parted before it became too intense. She gazed lovingly into his as their noses brushed together. "I am starving," she admitted with a soft chortle.

Looking down at her, he took in the sight of her flushed skin, her eyes glazed with lust. He felt a strange sense of power in that moment, knowing that he was the one making her feel this way. But there was also a tenderness, a feeling of protectiveness that he had never felt this way about anyone before. It was more than just sex when he felt an overwhelming love for her; never to hurt again as he did before. When her eyed sparked at him it was instant in the feeling of knowing he could not love another woman like her. His kissed her, lauguid and as he held her close until she fetl her feet again and hummed as he thought about hre question. “It was beyond compare, love” his voice, low and crooning even afterwards as he moved his hands to her hip and brought her back under the shower to wash her. His head angling to catch her lips as he kissed her, soap washing away his seed and soothing her aches as he worked his hands over her body.

He turned off the shower, the cool air of the room kissed thier heated skin, making him shiver from the warmth that still lingered from their union. Simon’s hands found hers, and stood there for a moment, simply enjoying the feel of the air cooling on their skin and the comfort of each other's presence. With a sigh, he pulled away, the cold air outside the shower's embrace making his skin pebble. Simon handed her a towel, his gaze lingering on her body before he wrapped one around his own waist. He saw the fair marks of his grip on her waist, a part of him feeling proud of his claim and concerned for the soreness it might bring to her for her first time being taken in such a way but by his size too Likely, a heady experience. Of course, he was happy to have given her it and be the only man to have a claim to her there. He was a possessive man in the right circumstances; just as he was now looking at her now and knowing his mark would lay on her flesh for some days. Her soreness, would pass but they would remember their first together.

Simon held her by her waist, thumbs stroking over her covered hips where his hands gripped her earlier. “I suppose horse riding is out of the question for the rest of the day”a playful tease but he was concerned as well let her rest. “I hope you won’t hold it against me for the pride I feel but the way you screamed my name is something I won’t forget.” he confessed, holding her face in his palm and gave her a soft lingering kiss. “Thank you for trusting me.” his fingers brushing along her cheek once more as he tucked an errant strand behind her ear. “I hope this wicked old man has met your expectations” he chuckles, taking the comments she gave him in stride with humour and amusement.”I’ll let you get dressed, love” pecking her lips, eyes lingering as he looked into her eyes.  He wanted to say he loved her but seeing as the morning was too much of a rush in development in their relationship and held his words inside from the time being. “I’ll see you downstairs.” he told her with a parting kiss, walking out of he rooms barefooted and holding to his towel as he walked back to his room.

He dresses casual with the warm weather as decided to pull on a pair of boxers and a long button down he doesn’t care to button up while he runs the towel to dry his hair and throws it into a laundry basket. Simon made his way to the kitchen, taking a number of items onto the counter as he begins to make a meal to make up for the energy lost with their morning exercise. As he stands at the stovetop works around the kitchen to boil the kettle for a cup of tea. Since he’s come to know her for the last few months he picks up on her habits and fixes her tea how she likes it while he makes his own. A cup brought to his mouth just as she arrives. He eyes her, winking over his mug and sets it down.

“Darling” he greets, doing his best not to linger his eyes on her body and plays it casual. She makes him feel like a younger man, eagerly excited to see his crush and unable to hide his infatuation for her. It’s impossible not to feel the flush in his face as he catches sight of Rose. He looks at her; she’s ethereal and a beauty he feels far too lesser to be in the presence of. She makes his heart catch, his breath held when he looks at her and finds there’s no other woman that has ever made him feel this way. It’s frightening to realise that his age, a man of fifty-years old and feeling like he’s found the very love his life in such a strange and perhaps questionable way.

The guilt that he might have had was replaced with a feeling of being honest to Rosalie with is love. No matter the reasons she found to be infatuated him he felt only fortunate that she did. If not, he would not have open his eyes to what stood in front of him the entire time he had spent looking for the love and companionship he craved to have.

[fairyofsilence]

THAT'S THE INDUSTRY, BABY | SERIES MASTERPOST |

Warning: This series is yandere themed and each story has individual warnings of their own, proceed with caution.

I don't agree nor condone any of the actions made by any of the characters throughout this series, I also do not belive that any of the members of BTS would act this way or have this type of behaviour, this story it's fiction and it's written with the sole purpose of entertainment, please proceed with caution.

Each part contains different warnings and word counts, this series is currently ongoing.

You can find my main masterlist here.

Bangtan Entertainment has grown into one of the biggest companies in the entertainment industry, having some of the greatest talents from South Korea under their belt, with an extensive range of artist going from music to filming to the modeling industry, get to know all about the most influential Bangtan artist here!

—FROM THE RKIVE MUSIC RECORDS:

“Kim Namjoon, the multi-talented producer who has taken the industry by storm, presents his most recent music project with Bangtan Entertainment’s new upcoming artist. Don't miss your chance to get a sneak peek at her debut - read here for all the details.”��  — RISING STAR | KIM NAMJOON [P: 04/22/2023] [E: 05/27/2023]  [PART 1 OF 7]

“Orchestra conductor Min Yoongi talks about his latest masterpiece 'Prosperpine', and how he found his muse in the making of it, read more about his new opera here”.  — A NIGHT AT THE OPERA | MIN YOONGI  [COMING SOON] [PART 3 OF 7]

“If there’s one thing that we know about the world’s favorite rapper J-Hope it’s to expect the unexpected, and his latest album reveals the dark side of Jung Hoseok, a side that he reveals; ‘Never thought it existed until recently’. Check out all the details about his new album here!”. — HOPE MEETS EVIL | JUNG HOSEOK  [COMING SOON] [PART 7 OF 7]

—FROM THE GOLDEN CLOSET FILM & PRODUCTIONS:

"Film prodigy Jeon Jungkook does it yet again, his latest movie '9 Bullets' receives a fifteen-minute standing ovation at Cannes Festival, but the director reveals that the mastermind behind this soon to be classic film it's none other than his talented screenwriter, learn more about her here!". — SMILE! YOU’RE ON CAMERA | JEON JUNGKOOK  [COMING SOON] [PART 5 OF 7]

"Nation's heartthrob and critically acclaimed actor Kim Seokjin is officially off the market and we couldn't be more heartbroken about it, the good news is he claims that; 'His heart it's safely guarded’ by his partner. Read more about it here".  — SAFETY NET | KIM SEOKJIN  [COMING SOON] [PART 6 OF 7]

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"'BEHIND THE LENSE', we let the latest photography exhibition by the extravagant Vante speak for itself, but there's only one thing we can say about it: it's without a doubt, his best work yet. See more exclusive content here". — BEHIND HIS LENSE | KIM TAEHYUNG  [COMING SOON] [PART 2 OF 7]

"Supermodel and brand ambassador Park Jimin reveals that 'makeup has definitely changed his life', and says that he has to thank his makeup artist for that, find out what his essentials are here!".  — RUN(A)WAY | PARK JIMIN [COMING SOON] [PART 4 OF 7]

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[vicious-vixxxen]

Tenya Iida X Male Reader: 7 Minutes in Heaven

Been working on this for a minute, thought it was about time I showed this boy some love! Hope you guys enjoy :3  ((Totally SFW, but things do get a wee bit steamy. Enjoy ;3))

“Unbelievable! The level of unprofessionalism from class 1A no less! This is a highly inappropriate way to be spending our free time! It should be spent honing our abilities to their greatest potential, and encouraging each other to bl-“  “Iida...Iida please for the love of god /stop/.” Snatching one of the other boys chopping hands by the wrist, your free hand settled on Iida’s chest to pat gently. “For someone who didn’t put up much of a fight getting tossed in here, you sure won’t shut up about it.” You mused, smirk evident in your tone

Despite the closet being too dark to tell; the only light the thin, dim strips around the doorframe- one of which caught the corner of Tenya’s glasses, and reflected back on the boys flushed cheek. Whether they were like that because of the intensity of his ramblings, or the situation at hand, was still yet to be determined.  “I beg your pardon?” Iida nearly gasped, and you snorted despite yourself. Keeping your hold on the larger boys wrist firm, even as he tried to continue his chopping motion out of it. “I assumed my protests would be considered before they’d have a chance to get us in here, and despite our combined abilities to escape, the rules of the game are very clear and seeing as how we’re here now I don’t see the point in not participating. As class 1A’s representative it’s imperative I encourage the other students to socialize and become a more cohesive unit. Even if it means doing ridiculous things like this, DESPITE protest.”

You’d almost, /almost/ landed on Kaminari. Who had you hurt in a past life to deserve this?

“So you’re unwilling to participate because you’re too busy scolding the other participants for wanting to participate. In a game in which you deem inappropriate, but will still abide by it’s rules. While the same time doing anything but. Did I get that right?” You asked, even unsure yourself.

“Well, I-“ “Is it cuz I’m a dude?” You asked suddenly, genuinely curious. Tenya balked. “O-of course not!” No further elaboration. You smiled. Now you were getting somewhere.

“Then I believe we have about five more minutes for you to get with the program Iida.” Finally letting his wrist go, you brought your hand down towards your face. Checking the watch you didn’t have intently, hoping he could see, for effect if anything, before bringing your hand down to rest on Iida’s hip gently. Snickering at how stiff his stance was, as he tensed impossibly tighter. “It’s just kissing,” You reminded him quietly, squinting in the dark to catch the blush high on his cheeks deepen. Iida was significantly taller than you, but he was acutely conscious of the fact. Shifting his knees, and hunching over slightly to bring himself in closer. More on reflex than anything. Until now he hadn’t quite realized he was primed for the taking, so to speak, and attempted to shift back, but finding the wall just as unyielding to his back as it had been when you’d entered together. A sweat broke out across his forehead, and Tenya began to take the most soft, shallow breaths of his entire life. “You have kissed someone before...haven’t you Iida?” You asked, usual playfulness gone, as you slowly started to piece together the sudden intensity behind Tenya’s protests of the game from the very beginning.  “Kissing...not that it is any of your business, I was under the impression was to be saved for someone you cared a great deal about. Someone special. Not a fellow classmate in a musty closet in our dorms!” Iida hissed, but there was no real heat behind it. Mostly..nerves. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” You asked, curious as to the others mind. Iida may not have cracked your top three since arriving at UA, friend wise, but he was a good guy, with a heart of gold, and a powerful personality. If not always the most easily digested. Point is, he was good. And sweet. And handsome. And you, as were your fellow classmates when the idea of drawing names for 7 minutes in heaven arose, were really in the mood to kiss /someone/. And Tenya made a good partner If he’d just be a little quieter. That’s all. “Well yes, but-“  “And you care about me?” You interrupted, smiling at the grunt of frustration the taller boy let out. A puff of hot breath ghosting across your cheeks from above, sending goosebumps down the back of your neck. Minty. And warm. Perfect, actually.  “Of course! But that’s hardly-“ “So what’s the deal? Loosen your tie a bit and just kiss me, jet boy. Plenty of time in the future to give the most special kisses to the most special people. Right now...how about starting with giving me just one?”

Your voice was quiet as you slid your hand up from Iida’s waist to his chest to join your other, a barely whispered ‘please’ in the dark. Iida stared down at you, his own hands twitching, before they came up to meet yours. He’d had every intention of removing them, setting them back at your own sides, but when you’d gripped his shirt, and leaned up on your toes to brush your nose along his jaw, he’d frozen. Gripping your wrists tightly, just hanging on really. “Mm...you smell nice.” Leave it to Tenya to casually wear the most expensive, mouth watering cologne to a dorm sleepover. Who was he, a Giorgio Armani sponsor! Sheesh.  “...thank you,” Tenya gasped finally, as you nipped at his chin- barking out a laugh, so loose and carefree, Tenya couldn’t help the way his shoulders dropped minutely in response. Maybe...maybe.

“Alright then.” Iida agreed. Stealing himself for the inevitable, though he’d be lying if he said the beads of sweat breaking out across his forehead weren’t because of how soft the plushness of your lips felt trailing up towards his own bitten ones. He’d never quite considered something like this happening to him, at school of all places. Tenya had a firm idea of what he’d come to UA to do, how he’d accomplish it, and how he’d feel after achieving all his goals. Going pro. There really was no time for any straying from that.  Bakugou, for instance, for all the glaring faults Tenya found in his personality, was admirable in that at least he had a similar mindset, albeit a more extremist one...goal oriented to the max. And Tenya did admire it, strived for something similar. He’d never quite struck gold when it came to friends before UA, maybe because they’d never quite understood why he worked so hard to get to the next step, and the next step. But here, his classmates understood the importance of their classes. Their position. ...well, most of them did. And yet here he was now, backed into a literal corner, clammy hands holding tight to y/n’s wrists as the smaller boy continued to whisper random nonsense against Tenya’s chin- his cheek. All because he wanted to appeal more to his peers. Figures. Not that he was complaining. Not anymore, at least. “Ready?” You asked, nerves nearly getting the best of you now too as you focused in on the glint of light in Iida’s glasses again- frowning briefly, and nudging the boys chin with yours to get him to move just enough for the light to reflect in the deep pool of blue that was his eye. Sparkling, and searching. You’d expect nothing less from the class rep. God, he was handsome.. “As I’ll ever be, I suppose,” Tenya whispered, meaning for it to come out more sure, and failing miserably. You were already keyed up enough to be crowned the king of sexual frustration, so you wasted no time in letting out a soft ‘hm’ of confirmation, before leaning in and sealing your lips fully over Iida’s. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined just how plush his lips would actually feel. Sure it was something you’d fantasized about with /most/ of the guys in class, but Iida especially. He had great lips. And fuck, they felt nice against yours. Not too soft, not too rough. Plush, like a pillow. Fuck, you wanted to bite them. To tug on his lower lip till he mewled into your mouth. Shit.

Moving your hands tentatively at first, as they were still being held firm by Iida. you slid them up and over his shoulders, hesitating briefly before allowing them to slide further up to cup the boy on either side of his neck. Squeezing there briefly as you pulled away.  “This okay?” You asked, thumbs brushing over Iida’s jaw, words whispered against his lips, you were still they close. “...y-yes, yes that’s alright.” He was too quiet to be sure, but something told you Iida was coming undone at a rapid pace.  “Would another be alright then? We don’t have to, I don’t want you to-mph!-“ and Iida’s lips were back on yours. More insistent, more sure. Firm and soft and you moaned, quietly, still conscious of your classmates on the other side of the door, but just barely.  “Sorry...sorry, I...I’m so sorry, y/n,” Iida huffed, grip just as tight on your wrists as before as he broke away suddenly, guilt wracking his system immediately as he intended to pull away, because what the hell was that?! He’d just-

“No, Iida, please...come on, don’t do me like that, I want it. More...come on,” you pleaded, breathless and giddy at how he’d taken control. On the one hand, of course he would. But on the other, this was /kissing/, and it was /Iida/. What even? Iida’s lips parted in a soft ‘o’, body flushing with heat at how your pleas seemed to effect him. “Okay.” Clearing his throat, his words coming out too husky for his own liking, Iida finally, FINALLY, moved his own hands. Thinking suddenly of movies, and how people kissed there. He could do that. Iida’s hands were on your hips then, gentle, yet sure. Cupping there, finding his footing. Iida finally seemed comfortable leaving one against your hip, the other flat against the small of your back to bring you in close. Whoa. Hadhis hands always felt so big?

Shit.

“Move your lips how I move mine,” you instructed, breath ghosting the shell of Iida’s ear, and you bit your lip gently when Iida nodded. Eager. Fuck.  And you were kissing again. More urgent this time, a few presses of lips, before you began to move. The quiet of the closet being broken by the rustling of your clothes, the slick sound of your lips, and both of your needy breaths. Iida was a skilled learner, and it was almost scary how that transferred over to kissing. Pausing when you move your lips against his in a certain way. Savoring it, before applying it back to you. “It’s concerning how good you are at this,” you laughed softly against his lips, Iida rewarding you with a little breath of a huff in return as his grip on your hip tightened, and he sealed your lips once again. Urgent. Needy.

You could relate. Soon enough you found one arm curled around Iida’s neck, your other hand holding firm to the crop of hair on his head as he kissed you. A shift in stance caused his hand to drop to the outside of your thigh, and on instinct, you’d lifted your leg to Iida’s hip,

Iida hadn’t even hesitated to grip your thigh and hike your leg up higher, bringing your middles closer together, and what? What the fuck? Since when did he know how to do that?! “Shit,” you hissed, overwhelmed by how turned on you were. It was embarrassing, but so good.

“Language,” Iida whispered, not missing a beat, pushing his head up into your hand briefly, encouraging, before kissing you /again/.

Jesus, he was good. It was kind of ridiculous how so. “Ah,” you cried before you could stop yourself, when Iida’s grip on your thigh shifted and tightened, palm held firm over the sensitive underside, and you had to stop. Lips sliding from Iida’s, along his cheek, and down into the crook is his neck. “Are...are you alright?” Iida panted, trying to pull back to look at you- as best he could in the dark- but you held tight to his hair, keeping him in place, as you caught your breath. ‘Look at me’ you thought, nodding your head against Iida’s shoulder, ‘coming apart like a fucking virgin!’ Which, you were...kind of, the specifics of previous encounters were still vaguely juvenile enough for you not to count them

“Just...,” pausing, you took a breath. Blowing it out through your nose, and closing your eyes as you began to litter Iida’s neck with kisses. “-sensitive, down there, is all. But it’s good. Very good.”

Iida was too quiet, tense all of the sudden for an entirely different reason, and you were all too aware of where his brain was probably going. “My /thigh/, Iida, your holding my thigh like you’re about to pitch a softball, and it feels really nice- just caught me off guard, is all.”

Patting him on the head, you evened out your breathing finally, just being for a few long moments, as Iida stood still. “...this is much more-ah...much more than I’d imagine it being.” Iida spoke softly, fingers playing nervously against the back of your thigh. “How incredibly vague,” you teased, giggling quietly, before the both of you were a fit of laughter. Iida’s deep, boisterous sound like music to your ears. Had he ever laughed like that in front of you before?

You vowed to make it happen more often, in any case. “You know what I mean,” he added finally, allowing your leg to slip from his grasp, bringing both hands back to your hips to squeeze gently. Tentatively. Your breath faltered briefly, imagining suddenly getting to feel this again. Whenever you wanted. What an idea. Your face was too hot then, even more so than before, and you hoped Iida couldn’t sense it as you pressed even deeper into his neck. Scratching idly through his hair, fingers skirting across the seam of his undercut.  “If you applied this kind of enthusiasm into your studies, you wouldn’t be scrambling to study with Kaminari last minute, you know.” Iida added simply.  “Excuse you?!” You shouted, no heat behind it as you reeled back, staring at the general area of Iida’s head in faux shock.

“If Midoriya and Uraraka didn’t steal you away all the time, /maybe/ I’d have asked you to study with me at some point. Once you and Yaomomo are busy the pickings are slim, you know. Kiri asked me to join he and Bakugou once...but hard pass, as I don’t particularly like being slammed over the head by our textbooks.” Iida stilled briefly, before sighing and nodding his head dejectedly.  “His methods are almost cruel, yet his results are unquestionable. Kirishima has been doing much better lately. At the cost of his physical and mental health though, which in the long run could have some serious long lasting effects.”

“Oh my mental health is constantly on the verge anyways, so that would be fine.” You joked, snickering as you were pulled back rather harshly, for Iida to get a good look at you no doubt.

Good luck with that in the dark, pal, you thought.  “Kidding, kidding. Kind of. Anyways, point is, if you’d make yourself more available to other students, maybe I’d pick your brain about the homework sometime.”

“I...suppose I have grown comfortable with my own study group- and as class rep it’s imperative I take initiative to make sure each one of us is reaching their full potential, whether it be studying, or during combat.” Iida mumbled. If his hands hadn’t been firm on your hips, you swore they’d be chopping the air around your head. “I don’t need as much oversee as Kaminari. I apply myself when it counts, so if you could spare even an hour or two on the weekend to answer some of my more pressing questions it would be a big help,” you explained, awkwardly untangling yourself from Iida as you cleared your throat. The mood not entirely broken, but you couldn’t very well sit in here and make out with Iida all night.

 Unfortunately. “Of course! Your room is right down the hall from mine after all, it’ll be easy to navigate and configure the perfect time to study. We-“ he paused, hands up in the air somewhere, you could hear the whooshing. “I don’t care much for movies, and the others will be thoroughly entertained enough with this game after us anyhow, if you’d like to go back to my room and set up a study plan?” He offered, and you couldn’t help the way your heart thumped madly once more at the offer. They’d decided on one of your favorite movies tonight, and you’d promised Kami a running commentary.

Oh well, “Let me fix your hair, and you’ve got a deal. Last thing you need is everyone thinking I defiled you in here.”

Pulling your phone from your pocket, and face the screen straight up, you unlocked it- the bright light from the screen illuminating the closet just enough to see. Snorting, you took in Iida’s fluffed up hair, sticking up at odd angles, vaguely reminiscent of Midoriya’s.

“A willing defilement , I suppose, but a defilement nonetheless if we’re being technical,” Iida supplied quietly, as you fussed over his hair. “Willing indeed, you lug. Who would have guessed the class rep would get so /handsy/.” You teased, smiling brightly at the wide eyed expression Iida supplied in return. “And don’t apologize, I...I haven’t kissed many people, but that was definitely the best kiss of my entire life. Something to be proud of. I guess..” You tried to sound nonplussed, but given the new light, it wasn’t hard for Iida to see your blush. “I’ve never kissed anyone, but I can’t imagine it gets better than that,” Iida offered quietly, blush high on his cheeks to match yours.

You both paused, Iida staring down at you, you up at him. Your hands back on either side of his neck, hair as good as it was going to get. ‘Maybe we could do it again sometime’ the little voice in your mind screamed, but the last thing you wanted to do was push Iida. This was just a one time thing. But hey, maybe it meant being closer friends...which was even better, if you were honest with yourself. “We should uh...get going. Out there. The sooner we retreat back to your room, the better. They’ll be hounding as soon as he step out.” Sliding your hands down Iida’s broad chest, you patted twice there just for effect, before snatching up your phone. Steeling yourself for the hoots and hollers, and nagging questions everyone before you had endured. An eye roll all prepped as you stepped out of the closet, missing the way Iida stared after you, if only briefly. Brushing off the wish of you, with your loud personality, and lack of filter, to offer up more of something he couldn’t bring himself to ask for. He couldn’t find the words. He’d hoped you could. Or would. But that was alright. Late at night, after everyone had gone to bed, and the lingering scent of your own cologne faded from Iida’s room, he’d still have the memory of your lips on his. Your voice, soft and needy in his ear. Your thigh heavy, and hot in his palm.  Yeah...that would do. For now, at least.

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 25: Prima Materia

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Five Months Later

Friday, November 13th, 1998

“I can’t believe you,” Scully hisses as they exit Skinner’s office. “We’ve discussed this, Mulder. Multiple, no, countless times. You can’t just accuse someone of being a supernatural entity based off a… a wild hunch!”

“A hunch? Scully, we have concrete evidence. It’s literally documented in the folder you’re holding right now.”

“That ‘evidence’ is obviously subject to interpretation,” Scully retorts, stomping down the hall in an attempt to keep pace with Mulder’s long strides. “An interpretation I thought we’d agreed upon before going into that meeting. And I don’t appreciate you abandoning a solid hypothesis, that we discussed at length, in favor of whatever the hell that just was.”

Mulder stops outside the elevator, turning to her. “That was the truth, Scully. It’s out there, if you would just open your mind a little and accept that there are things science still can’t explain.”

“But science can-” She reaches out and punches the button for the elevator, “-explain it. You just like the sound of your own theories and ideas better than fact. Fox Mulder, the champion of truth, the only man willing to consider the extreme.”

“You know you like it,” he says in a low tone.

Scully’s eyes go wide, and she grabs his elbow. “Do not-”

The elevator doors open, and they scurry into the lift. Mulder presses the button for the basement.

“Do not use my weaknesses against me at work, Mulder, that’s not fair,” she says as the doors slide closed.

“Weaknesses?” Mulder asks casually. “Am I your weakness, Dr. Scully?”

“I’m serious. We’ve have a few close calls in the past few months; if we’re not careful, we’re going to be found out.”

“How, by arguing? We did that before we started fu-”

She gives him an imploring look.

“-working after hours,” he corrects. “Besides,” he continues, angling his chin downwards to reach her ear, “I happen to know arguing turns you on.”

Scully licks her upper lip. “I’m just saying we have to be more careful,” she insists, staring straight ahead.

“Then I guess this isn’t the best time to invite you out for a drink,” Mulder says.

Scully glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “It’s Friday the thirteenth,” she notes with a twinge of a smile. “Don’t you think it’s a little risky?”

Mulder shrugs as the elevator doors open into the basement. “Historically, the thirteenth is my lucky day.”

-

“You know, it’s been nine months since our first date,” Mulder says conversationally. They’d walked to Casey’s Bar from the Bureau and are now perched on stools at the far end of the counter, nursing a beer each.

Scully furrows her brow, obviously doing some quick mental math. “February… that was a date?” she says, somewhat amused. “You should have told me at the time. I wouldn’t have waited so long to put out.”

Mulder raises his eyebrows. “Dana,” he says in mock surprise. “I thought you were a good church girl.”

“What gave you that idea, my penchant for kneeling?” she mutters into her glass.

Fuck, she’s good.

They’ve been together for six months now, and it’s surprising how little has actually changed between them, in the practical sense. They’ve been pretty good at keeping their relationship a secret, Mulder thinks. It helps that everyone in the Bureau already thought they were crazy, codependent, and tanking their respective careers. Apparently, bad reputations make the best cover.

He and Scully arrive at the Hoover building in separate vehicles, squabble over conflicting viewpoints, have lunch together almost every day. He rests a hand on her back, guiding her through the halls, and she gives him withering glances and dramatic eye rolls when appropriate. From the outside, they’re still the same Mulder and Scully.

And then they go home to one of their respective apartments and tear each other’s clothes off.

Well, they usually make it home. That quickie in the office annex was an outlier.

Nine months seems significant somehow. The length of human gestation, Mulder thinks absently. It seems like a length of time worth celebrating.

“Would it be terribly corny of me to propose a toast?” he asks.

“A toast to what?”

He’s suddenly shy. “Us,” he says softly. “How far we’ve come. And how much,” he adds, giving her a nudge with his elbow. She rolls her eyes at him, and it feels overtly fond.

Scully lifts her glass. “To us,” she says warmly. “And to spooky shit.”

“You remember,” Mulder says as they clink glasses, recalling that first toast in Casey’s all those months ago.

“Mm,” she replies, sipping her beer. “I do. It was a… notable evening.”

“What made it notable for you?” he asks.

“We had an actual conversation, for one,” Scully muses. “About our personal lives, attraction, about how we relate to the outside world; and by extension, how we relate to each other. I remember very clearly feeling like we were close to something.”

“So did I,” Mulder admits. “So what happened, on your end?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs. “The spell wore off, maybe? When I got home that night I remembered all the reasons it would be a mistake to let myself feel. And then Mark happened, and you know the rest of that story.” She turns on her stool to face him more fully. “What happened for you?”

“I took you on a very cold, very dark picnic,” Mulder reminds her.

“Which was wonderful,” she offers.

Mulder nods. “But then when I asked you out again, you had a date. I don’t know, maybe I was going too slow, being too subtle. But when you started going out with that jackass it felt like… in a way, you were saying that what I had to give wasn’t enough.”

Scully doesn’t say anything, just stares down at her glass.

“And I realize that it’s selfish of me to project that onto you,” he amends. “Your choices aren’t about me. But fuck, I wished they were.”

“You’d be surprised how many of my choices actually were about you,” she says softly. “I surprise even myself. You told me before that you didn’t think I’d last a full year working with you, remember? There was validity in that. This job… it’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. So much is at stake for us, so much has been taken. But I chose to continue because I believed in you, and in our work. We have different methods and come to different conclusions, but we’re working towards the same thing. That’s what I believe.”

He reaches over beneath the cover of the countertop and takes her hand, clasping it atop his knee. They sit in silence for awhile, taking sips of their drinks, palms pressed together.

The truth hides in many places, Mulder is learning. Places more secret and sacred than dusty file folders or abandoned warehouses, more mundane than the locked rooms of the Pentagon or trapped beneath thousands of years of ice. The greatest truths are scattered pieces he stumbles upon every day; reflected in his bathroom mirror, scribbled on post-it notes in their office, hidden under Scully’s warm tongue. He knows he’s an obsessed man, prone to irrationality and impulse; but in quiet moments with his partner, he finds small fragments of peace he never thought he could reach.

“Where are you?” Scully says softly, drawing him back into the present. A dim barroom, a sweating glass, her soft hand in his. He wonders if the day will come when his mind wanders too far for her to follow.

“I-I know how crazy this is going to sound, Scully but bear with me… do you ever think that we’re… that we’re bonded somehow? Like we were always supposed to end up here. Together.”

“Like here, here? In this bar?”

“Maybe. Maybe less specifically this bar and more generally this time and place on earth. This universe, this dimension. With each other.”

She shakes her head gently, smiling. “Mulder, it’s been a long week. If we’re going to talk about the metaphysical I need to either have more to drink or be under the influence of a postcoital surge of oxytocin.”

He leans closer to her. “Do you have a preference as to which, because I’d gladly provide either.”

Scully pushes her half-empty glass away from her, eyes dark and soft. “Take me home, Mulder,” she whispers.

His heart squeezes. “Will you stay?” The night, the rest of our lives, until our boat drifts over the edge of the earth?

She nods, and another piece of the truth slides into place.

[lnkedmyheart]

Just a few below the cut

The Great War by the-most-happy

Summary:

Dazai "Ouji" Osamu is the most popular idol of his generation.

People adore him, critics worship him.

He has the whole world dancing on the palm of his hand.

When he steps into an underground bar in Yokohama, on a summer night like any other, he is looking for a muse, a fake boyfriend and a reason for living.

Nakahara Chuuya just wanted a glass of wine and a one-night stand.

(Or: the “I slept with a stranger and he turned out to be my little sister’s favorite singer” AU where two idiots catch very real feelings through a fake dating contract.)

(I like this more than Screaming Your Name Through the Radio, presents Dazai as more of an untouchable, unreachable enigma and so his story becomes a lot more compelling. Yosano/Dazai friendship for the win.)

mors vincit omnia by itotypes

Summary:

mors vincit omnia: Latin for "death conquers all"

Chuuya has been repeatedly told that he is a loose canon. He doesn’t understand the full extent of that truth, however, until he’s tasked with arresting Dazai Osamu…and he ends up joining him on a treasure hunt instead.

(Pirates AU, the characters are done justice, but anyone can die.)

Où le cœur habite by LeaWillowsnap

Summary:

“You know where the bandages are,” Chuuya continued. “I want to finish this episode, and then I’m going to bed.”

“I left the port mafia.”

“I know. You ditching Mori’s coat was a pretty big giveaway. You can crash on the couch, the extra blankets are in the linen closet in the hall, but I’m going to need you gone in the morning-”

“I'm leaving the country, and I want you to come with me.”

A pause.

“What?”

(This one is just really sweet overall.)

MOTORSPORT. by saisblue

Summary:

Rumor has it that a figure in Yokohama’s underground scene is holding a contest. The top-voted street racer wins a free enrollment into the next Formula 3 season, all the way in California. They might as well be handing out a one-way ticket to the F1 roster, and all the fame, glory, and money that comes with it.

The entire city’s confident that the best driver that the circuit’s known in decades, Dazai Osamu—street name: McQueen, will win the opportunity.

That is, until a redheaded rookie known by the name of Prince shows up on his streets.

(Chuuya's got RIZZ.)

teenage nightmares commit atrocities by forever_wandering

Summary:

Dazai and Chuuya are seasoned mafiosos at the ripe old age of almost-seventeen. They’ve fought gang wars, interrogated prisoners, and done all manner of unspeakable things. Now, they face their greatest challenge yet: going (undercover) to a real high school. With regular teens (who may or may not be desperately trying to get them to kiss).

One thing’s for sure: this school is unprepared for the absolute calamity that is Double Black.

(A lot of silly cliches but done very well, actually delves into the whole mafia side of things along with the whole highschool thing.)

A Torch and a One Eyed Cat by alaruya

Summary:

When the other makes his way to them the silence turns and bites itself on the tail. Chuuya scoots to make space.

“Osamu, hm?” He says. “That’s a nice name.”

Dazai gives him a side glance.

“That so? Was it worth the two day wait?”

Shortly: An AU where Chuuya is the champion of Durmstrang, Dazai of Hogwarts, and their meeting and what follows. Written from this idea by mementochuuya with permission. (As well as many liberties taken.)

(I have read this more than 12 times last month, just saying.)

i want a kiss like my heart is hitting the ground by doomedblade

Summary:

Chuuya is determined to keep her head down and find a good husband and graduate from finishing school; Dazai Osamu is tired of everyone else's shit—a love story.

(THE femskk fic.)

Soul Deep in this Swill by inverseR

Summary:

Chuuya does taxes.

Excerpt:

“Chuuya is not looking at it from the right perspective!” Dazai defends. “This here is the first same sex marriage certificate issued in Japan! Think about the political parties that would weep over this! Think about the conservatives who are considering hara-kiri over the death of all their ideals! The homophobes, Chuuya! Think of the homophobes who are dying!”

(Silly slice of life shenanigans with a dose of accidental child acquisition.)

FLOW. by saisblue

Summary:

Dazai lives a quiet life, his free time mostly spent maintaining his vaporwave-themed aquarium shop. He doesn’t amount to anything much, and he’s not looking to, either.

That being said, a little situationship with the captain of his university’s swim team can’t hurt too much.

(I like this more than Motorsport.)

Hope this helps.

If anyone has any good skk fic recs i beg of thee to share im starved of skk interactions ☹️☹️

[muertawrites]

Fireside (Zuko x Reader)

Word Count: 1,775

Author’s Note: I am so deeply sorry this took so long to post. I don’t know what happened but after Thanksgiving the creative part of my brain completely shut down and all I could do was lay in bed and play video games. But it’s back now so 🎉🎉🎉 happy new year to all of us! 

I got this request a WHILE ago and had written something else for it but after reconsidering, I totally hated it, so this is the rewrite for some cozy, wintery goodness. I also love this idea because I’m constantly cold - my feet and hands are always freezing and even in summer I’ll wear sweaters and hoodies because aircon can get pretty chilly when you have the body temp of your average vampire. 

Now for a little update: in the new year, I’ll be focusing more on original works than fanfiction. I’m still going to finish Two Halves, and I’ll still write fanfiction (because it’s still super fun) but I have so many ideas for original works that are taking over my brain that it seems only fitting to shift that direction. If you’re on my subscriber list and would like to only receive alerts for fanfic, let me know and I’ll add you to a separate list. 

I hope you’re all having a wonderful holiday, taking time to relax and spend time with loved ones, and generally just glad to have survived this shithole of a year. Here’s hoping that 2021 goes better - 2020 set the bar pretty low so it shouldn’t be too hard. 🥂

Snow was a rare occurrence in the Fire Nation. Summers typically scorched, followed by peaceful autumns and mild winters; a little rainfall was all one typically expected during the colder months in the Imperial City. 

This year, however, was much different. The mountains that bordered the villages and towns throughout the island were white capped under gray skies; streets were slickened by thick layers of ice that settled between cobblestones and creased the panes of windows; bracing breezes swept through landscapes unaccustomed to such unforgiving weather, carrying flurries of snow that bit at cheeks and cloaked the world in a dull ivory veil. Winter came to the Fire Nation seeking a cruel, unwarranted vengeance.

You woke in the middle of the night to find the fire beside your bed had died, leaving your borrowed room in a state of bitter, slicing cold. It wasn't the first time the Firelord’s palace had left you uncomfortably chilled since your arrival for his New Year’s celebrations, as the building was never meant to withstand this type of climate - sweeping ceilings, open breezeways, and tall windows with thin shutters ensured that the cold had its way. Being from the Northern Earth Kingdom, used to sturdy wooden lodges with massive fire pits that could burn an entire tree trunk with one lighting, this strange change of the typical season made you ache for home. 

Knowing there were no matches beside the hearth (given the sheer amount of fire benders that resided in the palace), you gathered up your courage and begrudgingly rolled from your mattress, taking the blankets with and wrapping them tightly around yourself. The walls around you creaked, shifting under the push of moaning winds, as you slipped into the hallway in search of your host. 

You were thankful that Zuko decided to keep his personal wing of the palace confined to a space that was mostly enclosed; the only breezeways in this part of the sprawling estate surrounded its courtyards and gardens, and were blocked by sets of heavy wood doors that shielded the inner parts of the building from being overcome by the elements. As you walked, traipsing through the corridor under your mound of blankets like some sort of shadowy, death-bringing phantom, you passed one of the windows that overlooked the gardens, and found it frosted under heavy white tufts of snow; puffy, clumped flakes whirled down from the sky, falling haphazardly as they escaped the grip of the whipping wind. Even in the relative warmth of the palace, your body shivered thinking of how frigid the air outside must be. 

Because of the abnormal cold, Zuko moved his mattress out of his bedroom and into his sitting room, where a large, decorative fireplace stood nestled into the far wall. You approached his sleeping form with gentle, quiet steps, being careful not to startle him; you lay a hand on his shoulder and he jolted awake, drawing a sharp breath in as he twisted to face you, blinking blearily to make out your features in the dark. 

“What are you doing?” he muttered. 

“I'm cold,” you whispered in response. “My fire went out.” 

Zuko sighed, fixing you with an irked, exhausted expression. 

“Seriously?” he groaned. “This is the third time this week.” 

“It's not my fault nobody has any friggin matches in this place,” you quipped. “And besides, why bring a servant all the way up here when I have one of the world’s greatest fire benders down the hall?”

Zuko huffed, then rolled back over in an attempt to shove you off. 

“There should be more blankets in your closet,” he grumbled. 

“I'm wearing all of them,” you retorted. 

You stood above him, waiting, but got no response. Shivering, and with an exasperated sigh, you pulled back the blankets around him, shuffling between them and nestling into his back; he snapped his head around once more, eyeing you suspiciously. 

“... Isn’t this a little uncomfortable?” he wondered. 

“Not really,” you replied. “We used to do this all the time when we were teenagers.” 

“We haven't done this since we were teenagers.”

You hummed, recalling your time together during the war. Even on the hottest days, your body was cold, your fingers always reasonably corpselike to anyone who happened to touch them - Zuko was one of those unfortunate people, and the lack of circulation in your limbs came as quite a worry to him. Throughout the day, he would take one of your hands in his, heating his palm until your skin took on a more lively temperature. When he noticed how much you layered at night when the air became cooler, he started sleeping nearer to you, eventually curling up around you to keep you warm. After the war, when he got into the habit of visiting you around the winter holidays, you still found yourself seeking him for warmth, tucking your hands into the sleeves of his robes or curling his palm around your icy fingers, finding sanctuary in the way he heated his skin to appease you. While it was true you hadn't slept together since you were younger, you hadn't ever needed to - desperate times called for desperate measures. 

“I should have remembered that you get so grumpy when you're tired,” you teased him, rubbing your feet against his; he hissed, but didn't pull away. 

“You're freezing,” he commented. “I should have remembered you're dead on the inside.” 

You giggled, sighing happily as the familiar heat of his skin warming like a furnace chased the chill from your toes. You slid your feet up along his ankles, causing him to shiver; his body tensed for a moment, then eased into your touch, quickly finding comfort in its familiarity. 

“Aang used to assume we were a couple because of this,” Zuko mumbled. “He still does.” 

“You're just a good friend,” you replied. You nuzzled your face into the broad, solid expanse of his back, breathing in his scent of scorched wood and sea salt. He felt like home. “Good friends don't let their friends freeze to death.” 

Zuko chuckled, taking hold of your hands that lay on his waist and cupping them within his own; he held your knuckles up to his mouth and huffed warm, smokey air onto them, heating them until they no longer felt cold. He tucked them beneath the fabric of his tunic, keeping them tepid between the fabric of his undershirt. 

“Uncle says the same thing,” he mused. “He says we treat each other like lovers, whether we realize it or not.” 

“My neighbors have asked me what my husband does that takes him away for so long out of the year...” you commented, eliciting another breathy laugh from your companion. “But I think I'd know if you were in love with me.” 

Zuko rolled over, turning to face you; his arm latched at your waist, his chest almost pressed to you and your noses grazing each other in the small space of his mattress. You blushed, the color blending with the soft, balmy glow of the low hearth behind him. 

“What makes you think I'm not in love with you?” he wondered. 

You paused, watching the flames flicker over the angular features of his face. Though he was silhouetted, and so close he seemed to envelop all of you, you could make out a tender gleam in his eye; could feel the flutter in his chest as he split it open, tentatively revealing his heart to you. 

“... I'd like to think you would have mentioned it,” you answered after a moment, “but I know you better than that.” 

Zuko grinned; you watched the curve of his cheek as it swelled with the action. 

“I might have mentioned it,” he murmured, his voice lilting with a gentle mirth. “Just not to you.”

“Of course not,” you teased. You mirrored his smile, easing into him as his foot began to stroke against your ankle once more. “Either way, I know you don't love me.” 

“And why is that?” Zuko whispered. 

“Well… you never write to me about anything exciting,” you replied. “You always seem so content to write to me about your thoughts, or what plays you've seen recently, or your conversations with Iroh. You never tell me about the impressive, world-altering Firelord stuff or your incredible exploits as a warrior.” 

Zuko smirked, raising a hand to brush some hair away from your face. His fingers were calloused and lukewarm, tracing over your temple with consideration and care. 

“Why else?” 

“You've never tried to kiss me,” you noted, “or touch me like a lover. You never try to push our boundaries past anything that's comfortable for us. Even right now - I'm laying in your bed, but you refuse to touch me in a way you're unsure of.” 

“Then you don't love me, either,” Zuko added. His body had gravitated flush to yours, your legs braided together under the pile of blankets you'd buried him in. “You only want to sleep with me when you're cold. You could just as easily call a servant for help.” 

“And you only want to keep me warm out of obligation,” you agreed. “It wouldn’t make you look very good if I died of hypothermia on your watch.” 

For a long moment, Zuko gazed at you. You basked in his silence, the easiness of his form so close to yours, the native feeling of his arm around your waist and his breath tickling your cheeks. The fire snapped quietly in its hearth, its flames rising and falling in time with his inhales and exhales. 

“I’ve missed this,” Zuko admitted in a whisper. “Laying with you. I wish we could do it more often.” 

“I’ve missed it, too,” you affirm. “I always used to sleep better with you.” 

“And that’s it?” Zuko teased. 

“That’s it,” you giggled back. 

He chanced a kiss to your forehead, pressing his lips between your brows and letting them linger there, savoring the coolness of your skin. You shut your eyes, giving yourself entirely to his touch. 

“In the new year… do you think we could be lovers?” he asked as he pulled away. 

“... I think your uncle is right,” you murmured. “I think we already are.” 

With a faint, bashful smile, Zuko pulled you closer (if the act were even possible), hugging you tightly to him; you held him close, pressing the whole of your body to his and soaking in his steady, comforting warmth. As the wind howled outside, shaking the flimsy wooden eaves of the feeble shelter around you, you fell asleep in the heat of his fireside, safe in the knowledge that his arms held you. 

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[captainkurosolaire]

~ Mass Update ~

Mainly going into future plans and intents alongside ideas below cut.

Ton's of things I've in store this will prove difficult to vent it all out. But here we go... First off rehashing and appropriately learning to tag and organize things better on my blog. Each category will have their own corresponding content, I seek to bring or share. [Tales of Goldbrand] -- I intend this to carry a Compendium of all my writes soon that'll have everything neatly in-order including a glossary, so it'll have highlights of stories that even matter or the best stuff. I've written here for a very, long time, there's been many shifts. I want to make it more accessible. While coloring what matters for people who want to learn Captain or his Crew with less chapters. While also giving choice to find it all easily. This is essentially a step-above master-lists. I'll be doing that after the Saga I have going on, right now is done. [Captain] -- Will provide you strictly with Captain screenshots, gifs, photo-sets. This is still his blog despite the Crew thing's will sort of make this a scuffed Multi-Muse blog. I've few more things to edit and tag fix to get all his stuff though. [The Wild Crew] -- Afterwards this story is done Immortal Age Saga, It's something that I mainly wrote as a passion project within three days to get my warm-up process fixed. It's to allow me to get a feel for all his Crewmates and casts, in combat, in-general, to feel their presences. While also giving a bit of their backstories. At any point, I can go back and polish or tweak things in. They're NPC's but... not entirely. All will have their own 'Dreams' and their own 'Disapproval's' they have their own missions even. These things will factor eventually, they might set seeds, to betray or disagree with something, but that's all angst and more stories to be created, but overall, they'll probably always be Crew, eventually. -- I plan on making character-profile sheets of them and putting them in this Tab, it'll have their screenshots, their likes/dislikes. Some RP partners or people can also be shipped with them, but they'll all be monogamous and originally start off probably Pan. This allows them to figure out what they like on their own stories. I've always been someone who likes organic-flow. Although this one story contain all 16 characters or more, the rest will probably be shortened to a Squad of 4 and dispersed when on adventuring missions. Until I do a War Arc, that's my main goal to build too. [Roster] -- Will contain this Crew in just screen-sets dedicated to them, I'll probably randomly produce those. I've PC players among this Crew too. I may not be done either adding more, but this Crew is mainly built around Quality. Most pirate crew's mainly, have hundreds, thousands. Even Fleets. This Crew has personalities, monsters, people who are living life's that exist with piracy. He's an particular leader that had PC players the same way, he's had split-personality serial killers aboard, tribal chieftains, succubus, all sorts of various people once on a Crew. It's often an outcast style, pirates default are chaotic in nature, so this really isn't any different, it's a Fantasy version of it. There's humanization characters aboard too though, so this cast is really decked, everything and person is vital, they matter because they remind or covet something that others can draw upon. If ever played (Three Houses or Mass Effect / Dragon Age Origins) A lot of things like that are relatable too this structure and format. Which, Is something I want to be able to give when RPing. I want a genuine feel of this new world someone else's muse will be the main-character too. Depending on what's interacting everything they'll be scale appropriately to follow the genre they're in and environment even. [Aesthetics] -- Already explainable what you'll find here. [Asks] -- Same thing. [Prompts] -- Trivial things I was tagged too, I plan on compiling later. [Writing] -- Another alternatively to randomly go-down and it works right now. [Logs] -- Will have more individualistic master-lists and posts there, my poems from Sheik Sphere the Bard, etc.

Things of that nature, I'll probably add still. It's where a lot of my creative writing is summed. [Gems of Hydaelyn] -- My main #tag for other characters and artists, creationist. Lot of amazing people easily to find their zones or follow them optionally if you like. Ton's I intend to support and bolster, be a lot less unspoken. I'm never the type who's been strictly inclusive. But I'll do that when I've time to even explore the dash, I'm always still planning ahead with things and projects. [CKS] My original character-sheet it's outdated on something's but not too terrible. I'll give him polishing someday, I swear? [21+F-List] -- Just purely degenerate stuff of Captain. I'm a pirate blog. I will represent that with openness and furthermore. I'm never projecting you some false-image. I started off a smut-writer by stripping that, I no-longer represent the same aura and identity. But those are strictly his stuff and kinks, I'm effective in executing them but they're not all relatable to me OOC. This blog will always be 18+ containing crude or dark material sometimes, romantic things, this Captain is blunt, will literally put his cock on the table in conversations. Swearing and being censored would be too uncommon and displace most of him, but there's more about him then all this. [Other] -- I pay homage to a lot of characters, I originally am a Concept Designer. Which mean's I make characters and ideas like my addiction. Bad characters / villains or other little things I like to share in designs, I'll put there. Some villains might get little photo-sets, even if they died. Just cause I like their design, or maybe I'll give them an AU, where they won. When I've wrapped up things. [Collabs + Ships] -- Is a new project idea. This isn't going to be something limited too romantic only ships. It'll contain, platonic, romantic, friendships, rivals, frenemies, family, PC Crew, all ships. I am desperately working on improving my gif, screenshot, posing game so I can supply 'Screen Stories' this is not only a way to RP that's accessible with even people who are upon time-crunches from work, It gives visual-representation. To impactful stories shared with others and establish bonds. That are all-valid and impactful matter. Lot of people take a lot of their characters attributes into them and are them dialed up, I work with that and bit more, differently. I'm disconnected from my characters and they'll get hurt and injured and killed by me, that's my duty as their Author to give them conflicts and struggles. I'm their major antagonist, but that doesn't mean at-all, it's always SET that way. The characters I like to make have their own life, they live in this setting and are abide by it, they're often nothing, nobodies, and by the interacting with others, they slowly gradually building, more... Through emotional impacts, they alter, these are REAL people by all their beliefs. Each person they come in-contact with are legitimate and treated like that too. They've always impacted or given them insights to grow, or represent more. Otherwise it'd be criminally disrespectful if I allowed any emotional I felt OOC be the grudge to something IC. Captain in-particular is set on defying me. I cannot have that. ...But I can't stop him. He's met and encountered so many people and lived so many scenarios based on the actions of others, he's giving a chance right now to actually do things a lot further than impossible. The more people he meets and encounters, experiences, the more I lose. These stories are emotionally interactive where everything is a factor and adds to the dice, where the other people are the one who get to roll the dice for him, not me. That's something I want to color in. People range in emotions, they have their down's, ups, their own wholesome-grounding people, spending time with your favorite people, there's nothing more cherishing than that, being in your own comfort-zone or 'safe-space' these are all treasures that we live under, today. Contrary if what people assume of me, I'm not another 'blogger' that's came

before, who's wanting to force a harem, then constantly is bewildered when that falls to pieces cause of selfishness or a lack of communication, or the skeletons they have in their closets and beliefs they hid behind and swindled fooled everyone. I'm not looking to be popular or anything really, I just create stories and want to share in those, and I want to also boost others included, upward with me, especially those who make me. There's no ego in anything I do, this is purely love. I've never cared about being replicated or duplicated, I've had stalkers, I've gone through more then anyone would imagine, I've been used OOC and abused, just for my writing and cold-harshly told, i'd never amount to anything other then that or vice-versa. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Passion. That's all I got and am anymore. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Passion is the hardest thing to keep. It's something that can be stolen, quite effortlessly. Few words of discouragement, a bad negative representation, a lack of confidence, or small amount of time, there's many thing's that can put that flame out. Once you lose it. The difficulty to reattain is hundred-times harder than climbing any mountain for real. I've watched the greatest creators crumble from under the pressure, from beaten down by others. I watched many of them do it to themselves because they put a grand vision of needing validation of another and once lost, felt uncompelling to press onward. But passion also can be given BACK and drawn. It can be shown and encourage others, with a soft-triggering, that pushes them. That motivates, that constantly sticks to it. There are many that fuel me. If I ever quit, I let them down, I spit in the faces of people who're better than me in every-way. Or people who've came and given me their precious Time. That have given their character's or dedication to the abundant stories and community-driven things I've done. There's ONLY things you can do, create, give and provide. It cannot ever come to life without YOU. This is a fact. ...I swear, If you let your creativity soar, you'll be amazed by the heights you get. Constantly polish and learn and hone the best you, challenge yourself day after painstaking day, to draw better improvement on something, no matter how trivial or unfamiliar you are. You'll find a confidence only you can give yourself. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Future Plans --------------------------------------------------------------------- For me, I've got so much more stories to give and also explore, I might be taking up soon some other artists and more skilled people from community and hire them for some of my future writes, to up my game or cause something thing's can't be done in-game cause no background carries it. I also got a lot of-set up things and more angst stuff I want to practice, plus I'm adamantly on that grind to produce screen-sets with the intent's to some sort of improving daily. Additionally more people I'll be reaching out too soon for these collab's ideas and things. I look forward to shaking your hands, giving some hugs, show you my respect and admiration, then creating some enchanting stories and giving plots light. Feel free to reach out to me, I get scattered-brain but I'm working on getting better about it. Eventually will get to you though, my goals, if uninterested just say so when I poke, no bites, unless you kinky. Anyways, cheers hearties.

[sisterspooky1013]

Damsels, Chapter Thirteen: You Changed My Life

By SisterSpooky1013 / Rated E

Read previous chapters here / Tagging @today-in-fic

Adult content immediately after the jump.

The trill of a cell phone pulls her from her dreamless slumber, and Mulder rolls out of bed with a hmph to retrieve it from the kitchen counter. Feigning sleep, she watches him as he traverses the room naked. The soft curve of his ass and then the rigid mast of his morning erection flood her with memories of what it had felt like when buried inside her, and she bites back a smile

“Mulder,” he says sleepily, searching for his underwear. “Good morning, Agent Wiley,” he continues as he slips on his shorts and then sits on the edge of the bed, leaning over to place a quiet kiss on her temple.

She opens her eyes, as though for the first time.

“Yes, she’s here, one second.”

He sets the phone on the bedside table and turns to kiss her again, on the mouth this time. Mulder kissing her awake is something she could definitely get used to. He stands and goes into the bathroom while she takes the call.

“Good morning, Agent Wiley,” she greets, not even caring if the other agent had heard them kissing.

“Morning, Agent Scully. Sorry to track you down on your partner’s phone, the one we assigned you was still off.”

“Sorry about that, it didn’t even cross my mind to turn it on last night.”

Mulder pops his head out of the bathroom with her toothbrush in his mouth and wags his eyebrows suggestively. She shoots him a look, but it’s discredited by the smile on her lips.

“Not a problem. I just wanted to share some updates with you. We spent quite a bit of time questioning Ricky Dean last night and while we still have some loose ends to tie up, it’s looking like we’ll be able to close this case pretty quickly.”

“Really?” she asks with surprise. She had figured the search for Mila would continue, and that Ricky might even be arrested. She’s relieved to hear that’s not the case.

“Mr. Dean had some additional documentation indicating that Mila was there of her own free will,” continues agent Wiley, “and it’s pretty compelling stuff. He also said that she left about a month before you got there, but he hadn’t yet updated the file. That, in conjunction with the documents you found, make us confident that things are as they seem, which is that Mila chose to cut ties with her parents. You were right, by the way, about Mr. Dean running a kind of witness protection program. The gentleman you had mentioned, Roger Keane, was acting as a benefactor of sorts, funding the women’s expenses until they had a steady income from the club.”

She’s quiet for a beat while this information sinks in. “What about Lexie, and her husband?”

“Mr. Hall is in custody and will likely be charged with attempted murder, on top of assaulting a federal officer. Jennifer is doing well. She’s awake, doped to the gills on painkillers, but expected to fully recover. She was able to get back in contact with her mother, who is caring for little Aubrey.”

“That’s a relief,” Scully says with a sigh. “Do you need me to come down to the station?”

“No rush, you can stop by this afternoon. I’ll be here.”

“Thank you, I’ll see you later,” she replies, ending the call as Mulder returns from the bathroom.

“What’s the latest?” He asks, slipping back beneath the sheets and pulling her into his arms. She hides her morning breath against his neck.

“They’re closing the case,” she says plainly.

“Must be pretty frustrating, knowing she was gone before you even got there,” he says, brushing his fingers over the small of her back.

“She was there, Mulder,” she lifts her head to look at him. “I lied.”

He gives her an incredulous expression and she rolls out of bed and steps into the bathroom. Switching the shower on, she brushes her own teeth with an already-wet toothbrush.

“I’m going to take a shower, I’ll tell you about it over breakfast,” she says before closing the door.

Twenty minutes later she has washed away the evidence of their activities the night before and they sit at her small dining room table, drinking coffee and eating the scrambled eggs and toast Mulder prepared as she tells him about Mila. She decides to leave out the part about their conversation on the couch; that’s something she will keep just for herself.

“I can see why you did what you did, Scully. It was a tough position to be in,” he says as he touches her arm reassuringly.

“I know it was the right thing to do, but it still feels bizarre to lie on an official case report,” she replies. “I hope she’s okay, wherever she is. She was a good friend to me when I really needed one.”

Three soft raps on the door interrupt them, and they look at each other in confusion.

“Are you expecting someone?” he asks, and she shakes her head.

“No one knows I live here,” she says as she creeps towards the door and looks through the peephole.

When she sees who’s on the other side, she gasps and makes quick work of the lock, pulling it open and ushering Mila inside with a relieved hug.

“Oh my god, I was so worried,” she muses, and Mila sinks into her, threading her arms around Scully’s waist.

“Queenie told me what happened,” Mila replies, tucking her face into Scully’s neck, “she said you lied and told them I was never there. I’m so sorry for what I said to you yesterday, Desi.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” Scully reassures her, pulling back to look at her face.

Mulder clears his throat and Mila looks at him nervously, not having realized anyone else was here.

“This is my partner, Fox Mulder,” Scully introduces, and Mila nods at him, then narrows her eyes and looks back to Scully with a smirk.

“That’s the guy, huh?” she says playfully, and Scully blushes. “Look, Desi, I just came to say goodbye. I’m getting out of town. I just don’t feel safe here anymore. I’m not exactly sure what I’m going to do next, but I know my parents won’t stop looking for me.”

“We know some people,” Mulder interjects, “some friends, who can set you up with a new identity. For real this time, with a new social security number and everything.”

Mila’s expression brightens. “Really?”

Mulder nods. “Let me give them a call, you should be able to pick the documents up in DC this afternoon, if you can make it down there.”

He steps out of the apartment, heading to his car so he can contact The Gunmen, leaving Scully and Mila alone.

“So, I guess Desi isn’t really your name, huh? Or Diane?”

Scully smiles warmly. “My name is Dana. But you can still call me Desi if you want.”

Mila takes both Scully’s hands in hers, looking at them as she talks. “I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for what you did. I’m sure you could get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out.”

“It was the least I could do,” Scully replies. “I was there to help you, it just turns out the kind of help you needed was different than I thought. And you...Mila you changed my life.”

Mila looks up at her with wet eyes. “I did?”

“Yes,” Scully says, her own eyes pooling with tears though her mouth is smiling. “You helped me see myself. It’s the greatest gift anyone has ever given me.”

They look at each other for a moment, and it feels charged, like it did on the couch the other night. This time Scully breaks away, walking to her closet.

“I want you to have something,” she says, pulling down a lock box. “The code is two two three. There’s about fifteen thousand here.” She hands it to Mila, who looks at her with a stunned expression but takes it.

“I can’t take this, Desi. That’s insane.”

Scully shakes her head. “It’s all my tips. I don’t need it, nor do I want it. Please, use it to start over somewhere else. It would make me really happy.”

Mila nods, a soft smile on her lips. “Okay, thank you.”

Mulder returns just then, holding a receipt with notes scribbled on the back. “Okay, Mila, you’ll need to meet someone at the Lincoln memorial at 4:30 this afternoon. They’ll have everything you need and I promise, no one will find you this time.”

“Thank you,” she replies, then turns back to Scully. “I better go.”

Scully walks her to the door and they stand in its open frame, looking at each other for the last time. Scully pulls her into a hug and they linger there, rocking gently. When she pulls back, she doesn’t think, just presses her lips to Mila’s and kisses her twice before hugging her again. “Good luck,” she whispers into her ear, and then Mila is gone. Angel is gone.

Scully pushes the door closed, sniffing hard against her tearing eyes. Mulder is looking at her curiously, a thousand questions in his eyes that he has the good sense not to ask.

“Let’s go back to bed,” she says finally, and he turns his cell phone off this time.

[kookiebunnii]

d4u || easy employment

march 2019. jungkook had his first ever job interview today. i told him i believed in him but, to be honest, i wasn’t sure if we were going to finish a carton of ice cream on the couch afterwards because he landed the job or because he got rejected on the spot. hopefully it’s the former.

pairing: bestfriend!jungkook x reader

genre: slice of life, humor

word count: 2.6k

warnings: some inappropriate humor

“Y/N? Can you help me?”

You straighten up from where you’re leaning on the kitchen counter, popping cherry tomatoes into your mouth for a mid-afternoon snack. It was Wednesday, meaning you were able to clamber home as soon as your early morning classes ended. Biting into another tomato and savoring the tart sweetness coating your tongue, you ask, “What’s up?”

Jungkook walks up to you and snatches the next tomato right out of your fingers before tossing it into his own mouth with gusto. He smiles at the way your face immediately drops in disappointment before answering smartly, “I don’t know how to tie a tie.”

Raising your eyebrows, you give his form a quick up-and-down before immediately noticing that the boy was dressed quite differently than usual. He typically left the house in whatever oversized tee or old hoodie he could find, but this time he was wearing a nice button-up with khakis. Pushing aside thoughts of how to get back at Guk for taking your last cherry tomato, you decide instead to inquire about what the occasion might be.

“What’s with the outfit?”

He spins around once for you, just to show off, before he replies, “I’ve got a job interview.”

You laugh while washing the bowl you’d previously used to house your snack for the day. Before drying your hands on a kitchen towel, you can’t help but check him out once again. He looked different for sure, but it wasn’t like you’d never seen the kid dressed up. You practically took wedding pictures with him last month.

So why was your pulse thrumming like a teen girl in a young adult novel?

Refraining from the urge to slap yourself, which was a very difficult task, you continue, “Where at? Must be a weird place if they’re willing to consider you.”

He frowns to show his dismay at your words before he strides closer to you shyly like a child wanting approval, “It’s at a magazine publisher’s. They’re looking for a photographer, someone to provide a few shots for their articles.”

Your jaw drops and you grip the sides of his arms before squeaking in excitement, “That sounds great! That’s perfect for you.”

Jungkook seems a lot happier now that you’re as thrilled about the job prospect as he is. He brushes some stray hairs away from your face to tuck behind your ear before saying, “It sure is. My friend is one of their writers, he recommended me.”

You take hold of the bright red tie that’s casually slung around his shoulders. It’s slightly wrinkled near the middle, a likely result of Jungkook failing multiple times to correctly tie a knot. The idea of him struggling with something so small makes you giggle, and you instantly wrap the fabric around your hands.

“Good thing I know how this works. We should probably go with a black or blue tie though, it’ll go with your shirt better,” you suggest, poking him in the chest as an indication for him to lead you to his closet.

He immediately understands your prodding, turning around to make a beeline towards his bedroom door. His obedience makes you smile, so you tug the hem of his shirt in your fingers as he leads the way. It’s usually easier for you to make this gesture, given the looseness of his regular clothing. However, with the pressed shirt tucked into the waistband of his pants, there is very little give in the fabric. You’re momentarily mesmerized by the change, watching the way your hand hangs onto the back of a man, instead of a boy.

“You’re not looking at my ass, right?”

Rolling your eyes, even though you knew he couldn’t see you, you grip his shirt tighter in order to pinch the skin underneath. He yelps, trying to grab you in retaliation, but you’re fast enough to quickly dodge inside his room and start sorting through the ties hanging from the inside of the closet door.

Laughing loudly, you pull a deep blue tie dotted with smiling whales off the hook and wave it in front of your best friend. Jungkook runs a hand through his hair before replying, “That was Jin’s birthday gift last year.”

“He has good taste,” you muse, giving the comedic tie another glance before returning it to its place. The fact that Jungkook had the tie sitting alongside his others, ones that are definitely more practical, says a lot about him. Even if he would likely never wear the thing, he respected his senior enough to keep the present. Under the typical silly and absentminded behavior of your roommate, he has a good heart.

“Should we go with the black one?” he suggests, walking forward to tug another tie off the hook above where your hand was resting.

Leaning your head against the closet door in thought, you examine the fabric in his hands before giving him a curt nod, “It’ll do.”

Seconds later, Jungkook is sitting on a corner of the bed with his legs slightly apart so that you’re able to stand between them with relative ease. You try your absolute hardest to focus on the task at hand, and not at the way he’s looking at you. It’s silly, the way your head fills with irrelevant thoughts when you knew that you were fantasizing about a boy that likely only ever saw you as the chill friend who was easy to tease. As you slide the tie under his collar while holding your fingers as steady as possible, you narrowly miss the way his Adam’s apple quickly dips in nervousness. Even if it was an irrational thought, you wanted to believe that your touch was doing somethingto him.

“You should be grateful that back in the day, my prom date didn’t know how to tie a tie either,” you chortle, your movements a little uncertain since it wasn’t everyday you were tying ties for men, but overall your memory served you well.

He grinned, “I remember him. He was trying to kiss you the whole night.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Jungkook laughs at the clear discomfort on your face, before gently patting the side of your hip as if to apologize. His touch is brief, not staying longer than necessary, but enough for the pressure to linger against your waist. Thinking about this causes you to mess up the next step, so you curse and start all over again.

“You’ve never had an interview before. Are you prepared?” you ask, curious but mostly just trying to hide the fact that you were back to square one due to being easily distracted.

His lips press together in thought, as he unconsciously leans back and uses his hands to prop himself up. You’re forced to follow the motion, so you also lean yourself slightly forward in order to prevent yourself from accidentally choking the boy. Not that that wouldn’t be entertaining.

“I read whatever popped up on the first page of the Google after I searched ‘how to ace your interview’,” he straightens up again after noticing the uncomfortable position he’s put you in, “It’s probably good enough.”

You shake your head, clicking your tongue in disapproval. Quickly finishing and straightening the knot, you stand back to admire your handiwork before saying, “That’s not the same as actually practicing. If you’re ready, let’s do a practice run before you head out.”

He looks up at you like a startled rabbit before he tries his best to regain his composure, “That’s probably not necessary…”

“Of course it is! Pretend I’m your interviewer,” you take a seat in his bright orange gaming chair, giving it a spin just for your own entertainment.

Jungkook appears slightly out of his element, but you recognize the exact moment he makes up his mind to humor you for the time being. Immediately, the air about him changes as he straightens up. Even though he is sitting, it feels like he towers over you. You wonder momentarily if out of all the things Jungkook is good at, acing interviews will just be another on that list.  

“Welcome, Mr. Jeon. How are you doing?” you settle into your role easily, crossing your legs as you briefly compliment yourself on your own persona. Perhaps if your career in international business doesn’t pan out after graduation, you could try auditioning for a few television shows.

Giving you an easy smile, the one he usually uses on adults he wants to make a good impression on, he replies, “Very well, thank you. And you?”

Surprisingly, he answers all of your following questions with confidence and poise. Even if he briefly pauses for a few seconds to consider his answers at times, you knew that that would simply give him extra points. Interviewers usually liked signs that the candidate was considering his or her answer carefully, and not just rattling off whatever popped into their heads. You really shouldn’t have doubted Jungkook’s abilities, even if it was his first time trying something. Perhaps you’ll continue your quest of “find something Jungkook is bad at” some other time.

“For our last question, we’d like to know what you consider your greatest weakness,” you chirp, knowing that this exact question used to trip you up all the time. It was easy to make up something you were good at and try to brag about it without coming off as arrogant. However, what could you say that would simultaneously be accepted as a weakness yet not make you look totally inept? You hated this question.

“I’m too handsome,” Jungkook announced proudly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. His nose wrinkles as he smiles, and you know immediately he wants you to laugh at his comment.

You decide not to be the obedient counterpart to his comedy routine, so you say, “I’m afraid I’ll have to disagree with that one Mr. Jeon. Thank you for coming but unfortunately we will not be-” 

“You couldn’t even pretend to humor me?” he gets up to try and pull you out of your chair, which is an easy feat for him. 

“Good girls don’t tell lies.”

“And you’re supposed to be a good girl?” he replies, raising an eyebrow as a dangerous smirk tugs against his lips.

Whatever was happening, it was definitely doing something to you. His comment was definitely harmless, but given how much you were struggling with your thoughts recently, it easy threatened the wall you were trying to keep up. You bite your lip, trying to casually brush it off and think of a snide comment to counter with, but your mind refused to operate. 

“There’s still some time left,” he says after the silence drags for a beat longer than it should. You press your fingers against your cheeks to make sure you’re not beet red, as he paces over to a full-length mirror attached to the wall and starts fixing his hair. You don’t see any issues with it, but if fiddling with his locks made him feel better, than so be it. Standing behind him, you notice the way your reflection is beaming with pride. Even if you were too bashful to admit it, seeing him all dressed up with your help made you feel accomplished. You had a hand in helping him out, thus his successes could also be counted as you own.

“Don’t we look good together?” Jungkook chirps, bring you forward with an arm around your shoulders. You’re shorter than him, so the gesture looks a bit weird in the mirror, especially given the dichotomy of your outfits. Next to Jungkook’s office worker look, you look more like the casual homebody in your ratty t-shirt and shorts.

“I think it’s mainly me,” you strike a pose and give yourself a once-over.

He laughs, and you immediately smile at the familiar sound. Busying himself with packing various items in his backpack, you watch from the sidelines as your best friend prepares. You hand him his freshly printed resume when you notice it laying on his dresser. He gives you his mumbled thanks while scanning to room the ensure that he hadn’t forgotten anything else.

“One last thing.”

You unbutton the cuffs of his shirtsleeves, rolling them up so they end just under his elbows. Smoothing out any remaining wrinkles from your ministrations, you look up at him with a satisfied expression. He observes your newest addition before deadpanning, “What’s this for?”

“It looks better this way. Haven’t you seen those memes about how men get ten times more attractive with their sleeves rolled up?” you muse, reaching up in an attempt to squeeze his cheeks but your victim expert dodges away at the last minute.

“How could I be more attractive though?” he teases, striking the same pose you had earlier in front of the mirror.

“Alright that’s your cue to leave.”

He chuckles, slinging his backpack on his shoulder and heading out of his room. You follow him dutifully, hoping to at least see him out the door. You can feel the tiny buzz of anticipation along your arms, knowing that Jungkook had to face the upcoming challenge on his own. You knew he could do it, but you worry nevertheless.

“Hey um, don’t make fun of me…but could I get a hug?”

The awkward way Jungkook stands at the door, arms slightly raised at his sides in preparation for the hug he was requesting, almost made you melt on the spot. He was comfortable with physical touch for sure, but he had never really asked you for a hug like this before. It was like he had this big boy image he wanted to portray daily, but you suppose that he must be even more nervous than you are if he’s willing to shed that in front of you—even at the expense of you teasing him about it for the next month.

You don’t answer, holding back the usual quip you’d throw at him. On a normal day, perhaps you’d coo and slyly ask him if he’s turning into a soft baby boy, but you knew that this was a serious request. Bounding up to him, you wrap your arms around his waist and give him the embrace he requested. Doing your best to convey all the joy and hope into the hug, you relish the way he holds you just as tight with his face buried in your neck. His breath tickles your hair, and you hope that somehow despite how close the two of you were, he couldn’t feel the way your heart betrayed you. Because if the proximity meant he could feel it pounding a mile a minute, then maybe he’d realize just how much more he was starting to mean to you.

“I’ll be back by dinner,” he says, patting the top of your head as he does so, before he opens the door in preparation to head to his interview.

When he turns back one last time, as if he needs one last look at you for encouragement, you give him your brightest smile and a thumbs up.

You knew in that moment that you would always be behind him—every step of the way.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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[spacemilkies]

turkish delight

“some of my best memories are of food. perhaps they can become yours too.” —eleazar “lazar” azoulay x bell

or lazar takes bell on a culinary adventure to help discover herself.

a/n: looking forward to a year of plentiful muse and inspiration to write again.

  you expected death to be darkness. perhaps only broken with occasional wisps of flames and the stench of brimstone. regardless of ones faith, the imagination created the greatest wonders and nightmares of the unknown. 

what you didn’t anticipate was the smell of sea salt and something aromatically woodsy in fragrance. 

it’s what billows under your body, slowly bringing to the rise of clarity. but rather than understanding, you’re met with a sharp pang in your chest. 

with a harsh gasp, you immediately try to curl in on yourself, the action worsening the pain as you tremble in the aftershocks. the pleasant scent you’d been chasing is lost the the crackle of gunfire and the deafening roar of the cliffside waters below. the splintered fragments of one of your last memories- an authentic recollection- was of russell adler shooting you point blank. 

your measly records, mostly fabricated as they were, didn’t lie about your skill set. you were quick to react at the slightest hint of danger. but it wasn’t fast enough. 

frankly, what would you have done, had the shot connected with its intended target?

you, a broken soviet contact turnjacket versus a man with medals that could have spanned the walls of whatever dark corner cell they would have thrown you in. perhaps adler’s methods, though unsanctioned, were ideal. and could have saved you a great deal of turmoil had it actually finished the job. 

“hey … careful with those stitches. i may be a good cook but those are where my talents cut off. but i did what i could.”

the voice though alarmed, took great care not to raise to the volume it could have. it was comforting. meeting it’s well intended goal as the hair at your nape slowly fell with recognition. you knew that voice. 

more importantly what accompanied it. 

the rapid returning uptick of your heartbeat had to be audible as it rapped against your ribcage. from what you could tell, no part of you was presently restrained but that didn’t mean you weren’t detained. adler did not complete his objective, but you weren’t an end that could remain loose. 

and if death was his last resort. you weren’t keen on waiting to find out what came after. 

“relax, mami*. you are safe.”

then in an odd form of constraints, two large hands cupped your cheeks rather than constrict around your wrist. your own hands paused minutely just short of his neck where you could still very easily bring them up and squeeze. however, as your vision finally cleared, all you were left to do was stare up at the face of eleazar azoulay.

lazar.

his skin still wore some of the worst of both havana and solovsky; a stretch of abrasions and scratches that would take time to heal. ones that he should have all the time in the world to allow them to as he basked in the afterglow of victory.  not hide them in a minimalistic room. the walls too thin and surrounding noises too close in reach to be considered a home. wherever he brought you was somewhere closer to civilization than you had been in berlin. 

“lazar.” came your first reply since seemingly returning from the dead. a simple word ready to burst at the seams from all the emotions thrashing around inside you.

you could feel his answering chuckle, breathless but lacking any real humor. but relief was there. solace in the fact that you’d remembered. after weeks of making you think that everything was as it should be. 

though instead of rising to the anger, you sagged in defeat. 

“...lazar.”

because that was all you could manage. 

lazar. 

not adler. 

pools of dark brown shined with something you couldn’t quite comprehend as his thumbs rubbed warmth into the swell of your cheeks. you wondered how cold you must be for him to feel so inviting. 

“life for a life, my friend. i only wish i could have been sooner.”

though you doubted much would have changed. adler was not a man that could be reasoned with and in comparison, lazar lacked the authority to challenge. still you wondered what it might have looked like, a knight in bloodied clothing coming to your rescue. 

you probably would have shot him too. 

all of them for pulling you through living hell. and not even having the audacity to let you earn the scorch marks as yourself. even now across the finish line, you weren’t sure who crossed the threshold. 

lazar spoke in the absence of your speech. “we’re far from solovetsky. back in another safehouse of mine. somewhat better than the last, i suppose. i almost forgot it was here.” he’s delaying the inevitable. adding verbosity to a mission brief when he should have been listing the cold facts. yet you didn’t mind as you found yourself sinking back into the stiff mattress with each continued stroke of his calloused fingers. 

“we’re in nice. cleared, of course.”

right. because asking him to run away with you would have been more than your ledger could account for. 

his thumbs pause as his face hardens in preparation of his next words,” it was a clean shot, through and through. just missed your heart. though it may have nicked a rib.“  his tongue darts out to wet his lips, an action you follow in dazed silence. “... adler. he gave you nine days to recover before you’re to present before the board. we’re six days out now.”

adler. 

six days. 

board. 

stacked on top of each other, they made for a formidable tower of your greatest fears. all ready to topple down at any moment. lazar had saved you, yes, but in order to subject you to what?

the firmness of his grip brought you back to attention as your cheeks pursed. “but we still have time to address that. for now you rest.”

even in the chaos of your mind, you agreed that he was right. you would need all your strength to face the music awaiting you in the near future. 

finally his hands drew away and you licked your own lips, catching the faint taste of gunpowder against the cracked ridges. 

first rest.

“and then?”

you wished you could package that grin. tuck it away and only unwrap it when the worst of the world came against you. it was a smile that nudged away the encroaching darkness at the recesses of your mind and left behind a gentle glow. 

“then we eat. i’m making shawarma.”

   in hindsight, perhaps graciously seasoned meat still glistened with oil was the last thing you should have put on an empty stomach. but this was the aroma that had brought you back from the dead, it was unlikely to make your grave. 

you could taste all the ingredients you’d managed to piece together prior and something more. a strong blend that you couldn’t decipher without help. 

“what spice is this?”

already well into his second helping, lazar rose to the hidden compliment. “spices. za'atar. its a blend of sumac, marjoram, sesame seeds and a few other things my savta* covets as a family secret. it’s good, no?”

it was. very good. and if stuffing more down your throat wouldn’t result in an unfortunate reappearance less than an hour later, you might have welcomed more. 

“i didn’t know you could cook so well.”

eating, you knew he did very well. despite the drab and outskirt safehouse in west berlin, lazar never failed to have some sort of food stashed away- rarely any of them the rations you might have expected. that and his assortment of food related clothing choices made him look like quite the connoisseur. 

“growing up with a family like mine meant learning fast or you didn’t eat. every hand was there to aid in the kitchens.”

your family had- well, adler’s injections of vividly colored memories had not only not skipped over that aspect of your finely threaded life but also managed to weigh down on the scraps of what could have been your actual recollections. right now you couldn’t even picture what your household looked like. if it was full or lacking. did you wake up every morning to the smell of pancakes or did you make your own bowl of cereal alone at the table?

adler had managed to rip away such an intimate part of you. distant echos of what you were before everything. 

lazar’s brow rose as your chewing slowed. “i can’t right my wrongs. neither can anyone. we all dealt with the hand we were given. those some more poorly than others. but you have more people on your side than you think. “

you immediately think of woods and mason. two figures who’d been more receptive to your skill set than your past. maybe sims to, if he shared the same sentiments through his friendship with lazar. 

park. 

would you even be in this outcome had you chosen differently in havana?

it had been a split decision in the heat of the moment, relied purely on proximity above all else. it made sense to reach for the closet body for extraction first. but you thought- 

it hardly mattered now. 

you pushed your half eaten plate to the center of the table, hoping to end both the meal and conversation. 

rest first, then eat. 

hopefully you could rest a little more before everything started to blur again. 

accepting the silence yet again, lazar nods as he brings your plate closer to polish off the remains, content to let you fall back into the abyss of your mind. as your gaze drifts to the rapidly clearing plate , you found yourself wondering what pleasant smells would wake you tomorrow. 

[howlermemes]

                                       𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭                                                l  y  r  i  c    s  t  a  r  t  e  r  s

✽  long post ahead bc i have no self control ! ✽  change pronouns / punctuation as needed . ✽  some lyrics are explicit. ✽  some themes are slightly darker. ✽  alteratively, send    ♫ 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚔𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎    to have a lyric automatically generated & said to your muse instead .

[ track 01 ]   the 1 ❛ I'm doing good! I'm on some new shit. ❜ ❛ I thought I saw you at the bus stop. ❜ ❛ I hit the ground running each night. ❜ ❛ You know, the greatest films of all time were never made. ❜ ❛ If you wanted me, you really should have showed. ❜ ❛ If you never bleed, you're never gonna grow. ❜ ❛ It's alright now. ❜ ❛ We were something, don't you think so? ❜ ❛ If my wishes came true, it would have been you. ❜ ❛ In my defense — I have none for never leaving well enough alone. ❜ ❛ It would have been fun if you would have been the one. ❜ ❛ I had this dream you're doing cool shit, having adventures on your own. ❜ ❛ We never painted by the numbers, baby. ❜ ❛ We were making it count. ❜ ❛ You know the greatest loves of all time are over now. ❜ ❛ I guess you never know. ❜ ❛ It's another day of waking up alone. ❜ ❛ If one thing had been different, would everything be different today? ❜ ❛ It would have been sweet if it could've been me. ❜ ❛ In my defense, I have none for digging up the grave another time. ❜

[ track 02 ]   cardigan ❛ When you are young, they assume you know nothing. ❜ ❛ Baby, kiss it better. ❜ ❛ I was your favorite. ❜ ❛ A friend to all is a friend to none. ❜ ❛ Chase two girls, lose the one. ❜ ❛ To kiss in cars and downtown bars was all we needed. ❜ ❛ You drew stars around my scars and now I'm bleeding. ❜ ❛ I knew you tried to change the ending. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs. ❜ ❛ I knew everything when I was young. ❜ ❛ I knew I'd curse you for the longest time. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired, and you'd be standing in my front porch light. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd come back to me. ❜

[ track 03 ]   the last great american dynasty ❛ How did a middle-class divorcee do it? ❜ ❛ The wedding was a charming, if a little gauche. ❜ ❛ There's only so far new money goes. ❜ ❛ Their parties were tasteful, if a little loud. ❜ ❛ It must have been her fault his heart gave out. ❜ ❛ There goes the last great American dynasty. ❜ ❛ Who knows, if she never showed up, what could have been. ❜ ❛ There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen. ❜ ❛ They say she was seen on occasion, pacing the rocks, staring out the sea. ❜ ❛ In a feud with her neighbor, she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green. ❜ ❛ Fifty years is a long time. ❜ ❛ Who knows, if I never showed up, what could've been. ❜ ❛ I had a marvelous time ruining everything. ❜ ❛ I had a marvelous time. ❜

[ track 04 ]   exile ❛ I can see you standing, honey, with his arms around your body. ❜ ❛ I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending. ❜ ❛ You're not my homeland anymore. ❜ ❛ What am I defending now? ❜ ❛ You were my town. Now I'm in exile, seeing you out. ❜ ❛ I can see you staring, honey, like he's just your understudy, like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me. ❜ ❛ You'd get your knuckles bloody for me. ❜ ❛ Those eyes add insult to injury. ❜ ❛ I'm not your problem anymore. ❜ ❛ Who am I offending now? ❜ ❛ You were my crown. Now I'm in exile, seeing you out. ❜ ❛ I'm leaving out the side door. ❜ ❛ There is no amount of crying I can do for you. ❜ ❛ All this time, we always walked a very thin line. ❜ ❛ You didn't even hear me out. ❜ ❛ You never gave a warning sign. ❜ ❛ I gave so many signs. ❜ ❛ All this time, I never learned to read your mind. ❜ ❛ I couldn't turn things around. ❜ ❛ You never turned things around. ❜ ❛ You didn't even see the signs. ❜

[ track 05 ]   my tears ricochet ❛ If I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too. ❜ ❛ Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe — all the hell you gave me? ❜ ❛ I loved you, I swear I loved you, until my dying day. ❜ ❛ I didn't have it in myself to go with grace. ❜ ❛ You're the hero flying around, saving face. ❜ ❛ If I'm dead to you, why were you at the wake? ❜ ❛ Look at how my tears ricochet. ❜ ❛ We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean. ❜ ❛ You know I didn't want to have to haunt you. ❜ ❛ What a ghostly scene. ❜ ❛ You used to tell me I was brave. ❜ ❛ I can go anywhere I want. Anywhere I want, just not home. ❜ ❛ You can aim for my heart — go for blood. ❜ ❛ You would still miss me in your bones. ❜ ❛ I still talk to you when I'm screaming at the sky. ❜ ❛ You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same. ❜ ❛ You turned into your worst fears. ❜ ❛ You're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain, crossing out the good years. ❜

[ track 06 ]   mirrorball ❛ I'll show you every version of yourself tonight. ❜ ❛ When I break, it's a million pieces. ❜ ❛ Hush. ❜ ❛ You'll find me on my tallest tip-toes, spinning in my highest heels, love — shining just for you. ❜ ❛ I know they said the end is near. ❜ ❛ I can change everything about me to fit in. ❜ ❛ You're not like the regulars. ❜ ❛ I'm still on that tightrope. ❜ ❛ I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me. ❜ ❛ I'm still a believer, but I don't know why. ❜ ❛ I've never been a natural. ❜ ❛ All I do is try, try, try. ❜ ❛ I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me. ❜

[ track 07 ]   seven ❛ Please picture me in the trees. ❜ ❛ I hit my peak at seven, feet in the swing over the creek. ❜ ❛ I was too scared to jump in, but I was high in the sky. ❜ ❛ Are there still beautiful things? ❜ ❛ Cross your heart. ❜ ❛ Though I can't recall your face, I still got love for you. ❜ ❛ Love you to the moon and to Saturn. ❜ ❛ The love lasts so long. ❜ ❛ I've been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted. ❜ ❛ Your dad is always mad. ❜ ❛ I think you should come live with me. ❜ ❛ We can be pirates! ❜ ❛ You won't have to cry or hide in the closet. ❜ ❛ Our love will be passed on. ❜ ❛ I used to scream ferociously any time I wanted. ❜ ❛ Pack your dolls and a sweater. ❜

[ track 08 ]   august ❛ Salt air and the rust on your door — I never needed anything more. ❜ ❛ I can see us lost in the memory. ❜ ❛ August slipped away into a moment in time, because it was never mine. ❜ ❛ I was see us twisted in bedsheets. ❜ ❛ August sipped away like a bottle of wine, because you were never mine. ❜ ❛ Will you call me when you're back at school? ❜ ❛ I remember thinking I had you. ❜ ❛ It was never mine. ❜ ❛ You were never mine. ❜ ❛ For me, it was enough to live for the hope of it all. ❜ ❛ I canceled plans just in case you'd call. ❜ ❛ Meet me behind the mall. ❜ ❛ So much for summer love and saying "us". ❜ ❛ You weren't mine to lose. ❜ ❛ Do you remember? ❜ ❛ Remember when I pulled up and said "Get in the car." ❛ I was living for the hope of it all. ❜

[ track 09 ]   this is me trying ❛ I've been having a hard time adjusting. ❜ ❛ I didn't know if you'd care if I came back. ❜ ❛ I have a lot of regrets about that. ❜ ❛ Maybe I don't quite know what to say. ❜ ❛ I'm here in your doorway. ❜ ❛ I just wanted you to know this is me trying. ❜ ❛ I got wasted like all my potential. ❜ ❛ My words shoot to kill when I'm mad. I have a lot of regrets about that. ❜ ❛ I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere. ❜ ❛ I ended up here, pouring my heart out to a stranger. ❜ ❛ I didn't pour the whiskey. ❜ ❛ At least I'm trying. ❜ ❛ It's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound. ❜ ❛ It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you. ❜ ❛ You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town. ❜

[ track 10 ]   illicit affairs ❛ Make sure nobody sees you leave. ❜ ❛ Tell your friends you're out for a run. ❜ ❛ You'll be flushed when you return. ❜ ❛ Take the road less traveled by. ❜ ❛ Tell yourself you can always stop. ❜ ❛ What started in beautiful rooms, ends with meeting in parking lots. ❜ ❛ That's the thing about illicit affairs — and clandestine meetings and longing stares. ❜ ❛ It's born from just one single glance, but it dies and it dies and it dies a million little times. ❜ ❛ You leave no trace behind. ❜ ❛ Take the words for what they are — a dwindling mercurial high, a drug that only worked the first few hundred times. ❜ ❛ They show their truth one single time, but they lie and they lie and they lie. A million little times. ❜ ❛ Don't call me "kid". ❜ ❛ Don't call me "baby". ❜ ❛ Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. ❜ ❛ You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else. ❜ ❛ Look at this idiotic fool that you made me. ❜ ❛ You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else. ❜ ❛ You know damn well, for you, I would ruin myself a million little times. ❜

[ track 11 ]   invisible string ❛ I used to think I would meet somebody there. ❜ ❛ Teal was the color of your shirt when you were sixteen at the yogurt shop. ❜ ❛ Time, curious time. ❜ ❛ Were there clues I didn't see? ❜ ❛ Isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me? ❜ ❛ You ate at my favorite spot for dinner. ❜ ❛ She said I looked like an American singer. ❜ ❛ Time, mystical time — cutting me open, then healing me fine. ❜ ❛ Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. ❜ ❛ One single thread of gold tied me to you. ❜ ❛ Gold was the color of the leaves when you around Centennial Park. ❜ ❛ Hell was the journey, but it brought me to heaven. ❜ ❛ Time, wondrous time, gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies. ❜ ❛ It's cool, baby, with me. ❜

[ track 12 ]   mad woman ❛ What did you think I'd say to that? ❜ ❛ Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? ❜ ❛ They strike to kill, and you know I will. ❜ ❛ What do you sing on your drive home? ❜ ❛ Do you see my face in the neighbors lawn? ❜ ❛ Fuck you forever. ❜ ❛ Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy. ❜ ❛ When you say I seem angry, I get more angry. ❜ ❛ There's nothing like a mad woman. ❜ ❛ What a shame she went mad. ❜ ❛ No one likes a mad woman. You made her like that. ❜ ❛ You'll poke that bear 'till her claws come out and you find something to wrap your noose around. ❜ ❛ I breathe flames each time I talk. ❜ ❛ They say "Move On," but you know I won't. ❜ ❛ Women like hunting witches too, doing your dirtiest work for you. ❜ ❛ It's obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together. ❜ ❛ I'm taking my time. ❜ ❛ You took everything from me. ❜ ❛ She should be mad, should be scathing like me. ❜

[ track 13 ]   epiphany ❛ I think he's bleeding out. ❜ ❛ Some things you just can't speak about. ❜ ❛ With you, I serve. With you, I fall down. ❜ ❛ I think she's crashing out. ❜ ❛ Only twenty minutes to sleep. ❛ You dream of some epiphany — just one single glimpse of relief. ❜

[ track 14 ]   betty ❛ I won't make assumptions. ❜ ❛ I think it's because of me. ❜ ❛ One time, I was riding on my skateboard when I passed your house. ❜ ❛ It's like I couldn't breathe. ❜ ❛ You heard the rumors. ❜ ❛ You can't believe a word she says most times. But this time, it was true. ❜ ❛ The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you. ❜ ❛ If I just showed up at your party, would you have me? ❜ ❛ Would you want me? ❜ ❛ Would you tell me to go fuck myself? ❜ ❛ In the garden, would you trust me if I told you it was a just a summer thing? ❜ ❛ I'm only seventeen. I don't know anything. ❜ ❛ I don't know anything, but I know I miss you. ❜ ❛ I know where it all went wrong. ❜ ❛ I was nowhere to be found. ❜ ❛ I hate crowds. You know that. ❜ ❛ I saw you dance with him. ❜ ❛ I was walking home on broken cobblestones, just thinking of you. ❛ She pulled up like a figment of my worst intentions. ❜ ❛ Get in. Let's drive. ❜ ❛ I dreamt of you all summer long. ❜ ❛ I planned it out for weeks now. ❜ ❛ It's finally sinking in. ❜ ❛ Right now is the last time. ❜ ❛ I can dream about what happens when you can see my face again. ❜ ❛ The only thing I wanna do is make it up to you. ❜ ❛ Will you have me? ❜ ❛ Will you love me? ❜ ❛ Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends? ❜ ❛ If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it? ❜ ❛ I don't know anything. ❜

[ track 15 ]   peace ❛ Our coming-of-age has come and gone. ❜ ❛ I never had the courage of my convictions, as long as danger is near. ❜ ❛ It's just around the corner, darlin. ❜ ❛ I could never give you peace. ❜ ❛ I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm. ❜ ❛ All these people think love's for show, but I would die for you in secret. ❜ ❛ The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me. ❜ ❛ Would it be enough if I could never give you peace? ❜ ❛ Your integrity makes me seem small. ❜ ❛ I talk shit with my friends. It's like I'm wasting your honor. ❜ ❛ Is it enough? ❜ ❛ I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best. ❜ ❛ The rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me. ❜

[ track 16 ]   hoax ❛ This has broken me down. ❜ ❛ This has frozen my ground. ❜ ❛ Give me a reason. ❜ ❛ Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in. ❜ ❛ Don't want no other shade of blue, but you. ❜ ❛ No other sadness in the world would do. ❜ ❛ I am ash from your fire. ❜ ❛ You know I left a part of me back in New York. ❜ ❛ You knew the hero died, so what's the movie for? ❜ ❛ You knew it still hurts underneath my scars. ❜ ❛ You knew you won, so what's the point of keeping score? ❜ ❛ It still hurts underneath my scars. ❜ ❛ What you did was just as dark. ❜ ❛ Darling, this was just as hard as when they pulled me apart. ❜