#and got her maple cotton candy

[kteezy997]

The Candy Man-Part Ten (the end)//W.W.

Info/Warnings: Wonka family fluff, smut at the end, calling cum “cream,” another baby making session hehe, licking chocolate off of the body, use of ice for sex play

A/N: This is kinda long, grab a snack maybe.

The third Wonka baby, a little boy, was named Cotton, as in cotton candy. Willy couldn’t name his children after anything other than candy. You had to actively stop him from giving your child the name “Chocolate.” But Cotton was cute, and sweet just like his older siblings, Maple and Mocha.

Willy told you he liked the name ‘Cherry’ for when you had another girl together. You thought it was bold of him to assume that you’d continue having more of his children. You loved him, but hated him for always being right.

After your new son was born, it was finally time for you to become Mrs. Wonka. It was your wedding day. All of the original scrubbers happily helped you and Willy orchestrate the most beautiful wedding.

It was all traditional white ribbons and touches of cotton candy pink. Your bridal bouquet was two shades of pink roses with the tiny white flowers of baby's breath.

You thought it would be a little silly for you to wear a white dress, since this was your second, and albeit, last wedding, and Willy had made you a mother three times over. Thus, you decided on an adorable blush pink gown that was satin and chenille to the floor.

Willy looked handsome as ever, as you had helped fix his curls to lay in beautiful heap on his head. You were used to working with the texture of his hair; two of you children had the same curls, and though you knew baby Cotton would most likely have the same also, he was too little to tell just yet.

Daddy Wonka wore a dark brown suit, it was an homage to chocolate, but not too over the top, which you appreciated. You thought the rich color looked quite nice on your man. He wore a boutonniere that matched your flowers. He cried as you recited your wedding vows. He was so soft, but you knew how happy he was. He had come a long way. And before you knew it, he was wiping your tears away too.

.......

In time, your kids grew, and the success of the chocolate factory allowed your family to have a rather nice life. Willy was able to hire more workers and spend more time at home with you and the kids. You and Willy would spend the workday at the factory, with you mostly in your office and Willy overseeing the candy making. And then you'd spent the latter portion of the day with the kids.

Maple and Mocha remained playful and curious, like their father. Willy would play with them in the chocolate room and let them try out new flavors he was creating. But little Cotton was more on the reserved, quiet side. He liked hanging out with you in your office. He was good with numbers and figuring, and he had a knack for solving problems, even at an early age.

All three kids got along and played well together, for the most part. They would fuss and fight now and then, like all siblings. But while the twins ran around and picked fights with each other, Cott liked to climb up into his Daddy's lap and ask him about his Grandma Wonka and how Willy remembered making chocolate bars with her. The first Wonka chocolate.

"And she would be so proud of you and your brother and sister." Willy would say to his youngest baby after looking back fondly and telling him the stories of his childhood with his mother.

You hoped you'd never forget the nights when Willy would hold little Cotton in his arms, singing "Pure Imagination" so softly, so angelically. And your sweet baby would fight the sleep that called him, but alas, his green eyes would flutter behind long lashes, and little curls would fall onto his sleepy face as his father's voice would lull him into slumber.

Willy's zest for creativity was passed to on Mae, who would spend her childhood using crayons to create designs for her Dad's candy ideas, all the way down to the style of the packaging. Her eye for color was impeccable. She never lost her sweetness, but she did develop an edge for the dramatic. Neither Willy nor you could complain about her over-the-top flair, because she was responsible for a lot of Wonka's eye-catching, and best-selling product designs.

Her twin brother was also like their father, in his love for the experimental side of the candy making. Mocha loved thinking up flavor combinations and bringing those ideas to fruition alongside Willy in the factory. There were many times where the young boy and his father would come home in need of sparkling soda to ease their stomach aches from eating too much sugar and mixing some of the wrong ingredients together.

Little Cott, however, seemed to inherit your mind for business. He loved his Daddy, of course, but he stuck to you quite often. He was always a serious, yet thoughtful child. He was a sensitive boy, and though he wasn't as into the candy making process like his artistic siblings, he was just as sweet and loving as they were. You had to admit, it was nice having your Cotton as a constant companion, as your older two kids were their father's little shadows.

As for you and Willy, things never changed, if they did it was your love growing stronger and deeper with every moment you got to spend together.

Nights of returning to the factory to visit the secret chamber never ceased. Anytime you and Willy wanted to be together and unwind, or let all of your fantasies come to light, you called one of your friends or your parents to babysit and made your way back to the chocolate factory.

Now, you could still have intimate nights at home, but three kids made it difficult at times. And in your private room, no one would ever bother you or be disturbed by anything that happened in there.

........

"Can we have another baby? I think the time is right." Willy asked you one evening after dinner. The kids were occupied with whatever game they were playing amongst the three of them.

You were surprised at his question; it was the first time you'd discussed the idea with seriousness in a long time. "You aren't happy with three kids?"

"Of course, I am, honey. That's not why. I know that you wanted to wait awhile, and the twins are almost seven and Cotton is five. I want to have just one more experience raising a baby." he took your hands, "Please, my love? Just one more, that's it. One more sweet little one, it makes me happy, creating a human that's half of you." he caressed your face, looking at you with puppy eyes. The eyes you could not say 'no' to.

"You're right. And you've been very patient, Willy. I love that you've let me take my time on deciding. My answer now is yes." you smiled, squeezing your husband's hands.

Willy grinned widley, "Really? We can?!"

"Yes, let's have another baby!"

Willy cheered and picked you up in his arms, spinning you around. "Oh honey, I'm so happy right now! I love you, y/n."

You hugged him tightly, "I love you too, Willy."

"What are you two so excited about?" quipped Maple, showing a little sass at the ripe age of nearly six and a half.

"Nothing for you to be concerned about, young lady." you responded. You didn't want to spill any beans and get the kids excited for something that hadn't happened yet. "Now, go on upstairs, it's almost time for baths."

"Ugh, I don't want to take a bath tonight." your daughter grumbled.

"Maple Wonka, don't you sass your mother, now do as she says." Willy demanded, using his stern Dad voice.

Mae rolled her eyes, "Fine." she huffed. She, along with her brothers, made their way upstairs.

As you watched them go, Willy put his arms around you from behind, and kissed your cheek.

You put your arms on his and rested your head back against him, "Mae is going to be the one to give us a run for our money." you sighed.

"Oh, it's going to be okay. She's strong, like you, but it's not a problem."

"Hmm." you put your hand in his curls, "I hope you're right."

"I'll go make sure bath time goes smoothly." he kissed your temple, parting from your embrace, "And you can think up a time for us to start making a baby."

As he started walking away, you said, "What about tomorrow night? At the factory?"

He pivoted on his heel and his eyes were wide when he caught your gaze, "Oh, that soon? Honey, I'm so excited." he said, running over to kiss your lips as you giggled.

............

The next night, Willy tied you to the bed, and had poured warm chocolate all over your nude body. He teased you with his tongue, swirling over your hard nipples, trailing down your tummy, dipping into your navel, and slipping down between your legs as he lapped up every trace of the chocolate.

He got you all worked up, sweaty, and dripping wet. Your body ached and writhed in anticipation.

He came back over to the bed with a medium sized metal bucket in his hands. "Some ice." he announced, "In case the chocolate was too warm for you."

You nodded, and he went ahead, placing a cube of ice on your lips first. You couldn't help but lick the ice as it was near your mouth, and you gave his fingers a tiny nibble as well.

He ran the ice from collarbone to collarbone, then downwards, over your nipples, making you gasp.

Willy smirked at the effect the ice was having on your body.

You held your breath as he dragged the ice down your stomach, your ribcage inflating as you held your breath. As you let out your breath, your back arched as you felt the ice on your clit, melting and dripping between your folds. Your skin was on fire, and the ice was a shock. It was almost too much. Your man had a wicked imagination.

The ice was taken away, "Feel alright, y/n?" he asked, still being your sweet Willy at this point.

"Yes." you said, weakly.

"Excellent." he said, setting the bucket of ice down. Then, he leaned down close to your ear, "Now, I'm ready to breed you." Dominant Willy had arrived. You could barely contain your excitement as he untied your wrists and ankles.

You lay on the bed as patiently as you could, and he climbed on top of you. He took your legs, propping them all the way up on his shoulders. You whimpered, as he made eye contact with you. You feet hung up on either side of his head. With a little thrust of his hips, he was inside of you.

You'd been making love to Willy for years now, sex in every sense of the word, a deep, trusting sexual relationship that you never imagined you'd have, and still, each time was like the first. You looked back to the time you took his virginity on the bear skin rug that you so despised. You fell in love right then. You knew he was special from the beginning.

"Are you gonna make me a Daddy again, my sweet?" he asked, thrusting softly, pushing his curls back as he looked down at you.

"Yes, baby. Give me that Wonka baby cream, please." you whined.

Willy dipped down, kissing you hard and he quickened his pace, "I'll give it to you.”

Your husband kissed you repeatedly, and kneaded your hips as he rammed you. You knew as his thrusts became sloppy and his breath ragged, he was close to coming. He put his forehead on yours, letting his sweat and your mix together.

You ran your hands over his strong back, his arms, then held his handsome face, “I love you, Willy Wonka, I want your baby.” you cooed.

“Oh, I love you.” he huffed, “You should be pregnant before the night is over, Mrs. Wonka." You felt his cum invade you shortly after.

Who would have thought that the innocent chocolate salesman would be saying that to the housewife he met by chance almost seven years prior?

Willy Wonka, as you knew, was never wrong, and your fourth and final child came into the world nine months, to the day, later. Cherry Wonka. She completed your beautiful family. She was the class clown of the bunch, spirited and wild as could be, with bouncing curls and a deviously cute grin. She kept you and Willy on your toes constantly, and you adored her.

A/N: Special thank you to my beta, @gatoenlaciudad ! You’ve been such an inspiration and great support throughout this series!💕

@thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @tchalamss @softhecreator @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt

[jonyxtion]

Vendetta MC

Ekaterina 'Katya' Viktorovna Agapova

Code Name: 'Eos'

Character Infos:

20 | Female | She/Her | Straight | 💗 Ash

The eyes should be amber

Character Facts:

Pistol Names -> "Helios & Selene" See what i did there with the code name

Foods:

Belgium Waffles & Maple Syrup

Cotton Candy ice

Salad take-out (livin healthy haha)

Chocolate Cake

Herbal Tea & Hot Chocolate (may be a giant sweet tooth like Rin)

Absolut Teetotaler

Sweet Facts:

Sweet but Oho!

Got the stature of a child both in height and muscle

Pitys her mom and tries to rebuild their relationship

When talking to people a nervous wreck inside (especially with Ash)

Heart on her sleeve

Fashion and Mask:

Mask = Volto mask (just imagine it darker with more black)

Tattoo

Clothing Style: Cutesy

Everyday

Buisness

Formal | Red Carpet wear

Winter

Shoes

Vehicle = Lucid Air Dream Edition

And thats about it...i had a lot of fun bringing one of my MCs to life.

Now, i recommend you to go and play @vendetta-if cause it is freaking amazing and i love it and now i am gonna go into the corner to scream cause i can 😎

Of course this will be updated as the game progresses.

[journeydb]

March 22 2023 Barcelona

Happy Spring! It's official, at least in the Northern Hemisphere. It's been feeling like springtime was coming for weeks now and here it is! People are out walking, running, riding bikes, rollerblading, on scooters, and sunning themselves on the beaches.

The almond trees are blossoming and the air is perfumed with their delicious scent. Gardens are beginning to fill up with spring bulbs and other spring flowers in sunny yellows, vibrant reds, and cotton-candy pinks. I LOVE this time of year! It's a time of renewal and rebirth and we all have a chance to recreate our lives in a more positive and fulfilling way, if we are so inclined.

Today is also World Water Day! This year's theme is "accelerating change". According to the United Nations:

"World Water Day 2023 will focus on accelerating change to solve the water and sanitation crisis. Celebrated annually on 22 March, World Water Day raises awareness and inspires action to tackle the water and sanitation crisis.

World Water Day became a UN observance day in 1993. It seeks to focus attention on the global water crisis. "

Bruce and I have been supporting clean water and sanitation projects all over the world, and especially in Africa and Central and South America, for many years. We have worked with many nonprofit organizations, including El Porvenir and Boulder Friendship Cities and I have been dedicating my birthday to a charity:water campaign every year for the last ten years. The campaign for my 73rd birthday is still ongoing and I haven't reached my goal yet but I hope that I will exceed it by the time it closes. Water is ESSENTIAL to health and well-being and it is the RIGHT of everyone and everything, including animals and plants, to have clean, adequate water to promote growth and sustainability.

Today I took the metro with my friend Noni to Gracia to visit her friend, Christa, whom she met when she lived in that neighborhood. Christa is from the United States and she has a baby daughter, Alegra, who is close to Maple's age. We met in Plaza Reloj, one of the beautiful squares in Gracia, had tea, and then walked around the barrio. Christa took us to a local bakery and I bought some bread for Bruce. Baby Alegra was happy most of the time riding in her stroller and I played with her in the square while Noni and Christa chatted.

When I got home I saw that Katie had sent me some photos and videos of Maple and it made me homesick and wanting to be with them to watch her during this developmental stage that she's going through. There are times when I wish I could CLONE myself!

[viaticumz]

I like it when my alters share good memories with me... it is nice to piece things together from our life that actually aren’t bad

[carmen-is-away]

what the legends smell like.

a/n: if I say smell(s)/scent one more time, i’m gonna lose it. but these are my opinions, some of these are kinda short oops

Bloodhound

They smell like outside along with like plants n shit?????? Houndie once religiously used this soap with herbs in it that was a gift from Mirage. Imagine lavender with dirt and rain and maybe a hint of cinnamon. Very cozy tbh

Gibraltar

Makoa smells like brown sugar and vanilla body wash and uses a coconut scented soap. He’s got a really warm scent if that makes sense??? Never musty ever

Lifeline

Ajay smells like cocoa butter and coconut oil and her hair smells like the olive oil eco gel. She frequently uses the hello beautiful lotion from b&bw. It’s really strong, please stay away from Ajay if you’re not into strong smells

Pathfinder

Nothing. He’s a robot. Go tell me what a Samsung refrigerator smells like

Wraith

She has so many different smells. Believe it or not, Renee has an extensive hoard of body washes, soaps, lotions and all kinds of other products. I get this feeling that she takes great pride in taking care of herself. She could smell like a fresh pot of coffee or like cotton candy. Just depends on how she’s feeling that day.

Bangalore

Anita also smells like cocoa butter or some kind of fruity smelling soap but that’s about it, but it’ll never be as strong as Lifeline’s. She’s not big on perfume or anything.

Caustic

Also nothing. He doesn’t care, uses unscented soap, and probably just mixed up something to neutralize his scent. Sometimes he smells like coffee

Mirage

Elliott also take pride in the way he smells. His collection isn’t nearly as large as Wraith’s but he has a few different products he likes to rotate through. He mostly does it for the approval of others but he has his favorites. Pls tell him that he smells good

Octane

Octavio smells like sweat covered up with cheap smelling cologne. He doesn’t get too musty but he does forget to wash up sometimes or chooses not to because it’s boring. When he does decide to clean himself, he uses old spice.

Wattson

Natalie uses pomegranate scented soap and a flowery scented lotion. It’s not too strong because she doesn’t really like strong smells, but she feels like smell good

Crypto

He smells like Irish Spring and whiskey. He’s clean and that’s all he requires. Tae Joon isn’t really into cologne unless it’s for a formal event, which he rarely ever attends. Gotta keep it on the dl and you can’t really do that if they can smell you from across the room

Revenant

Kind of smells of burning rubber, that’s it. It’s kind of off putting to most people but that’s what he’s into, I suppose-

Loba

Loba smells like expensive perfume. It’s not overwhelming, but it’s noticeable. If you can get close enough, her hair smells like mango from her shampoo.

Rampart

She smells like that maple syrup and cinnamon oatmeal. I don’t know how or why I came to this conclusion, but please understand that I’m not taking constructive criticism on this

Horizon

Mary smells like banana bread and no one knows why. Maybe it’s her body wash, maybe she bakes. The world may never know

Fuse

Walter smells like an old man. Yk what I’m talking about. Fusey smells like smoke, booze, and cheap cologne.

Valkyrie

She also smells like soap and sake. She might put on perfume sometimes, but it’s rare. The way she smells isn’t high on her priority list.

[mogai-sunflowers]

anygays here’s my updated list of upcoming royal system terms- currently not adding to it, and i did remove a few from the lists recommended to me for personal reasons, i’m really looking forward to doing these, i’ve got flags for most so far and i do have around 100 posts in my queue alr but im gonna be shuffling it up a bit so i can post royal system posts in between the ones alr in the queue

willow, lullaby, melody, harmony, love song, acoustic music, violin, cello, poetry, sunlight, moonlight, starlight, ocean sunset, waterlily, tigerlily, lupine, dragonfly, firefly, auroracore, pixiecore, clockpunk, steampunk, carnivalcore, post apocalyptic, pastel academia, musical academia, writers academia, ballet academia, romantic academia, crowcore, cyberpunk, cyberprep, cyberdelic, cybergoth, cybergrunge, coffee house, vellichor, dollcore, dark paradise/naturalism, daydream, dazecore, psychedelica, acidwave, ethereal, fairy academia, fawncore, happycore, horror academia, theater academia, jamcore, lunarpunk, solarpunk, northerness aesthetic, ocean academia, sparklecore, studyplace/studycore, vintage academia, warmcore, witchy academia, spiritcore, scenecore, marigold, daffodil, hyacinth, peony, rainy days, pastel, rococo, pixel cutie, pastel blue, pastel yellow, pastel orange, pastel pink, pastel purple, pastel green, plaguecore, plague doctor, natural philosophy, philosophy, luminism, hikecore, mountain sunrise/sunset, craftcore, vintage/vintagecore, cloud/cloudcore, violet flower, iris, lavender, jasmine, magnolia, morning glory, bluebell, poppy, orchid, lotus, forget me not, buttercup, gardenia, lilac, wildflower, dandelion, periwinkle, dahlia, zinnia, calla lily, lily of the valley, petunia, chrysanthemum, rosemary, love song, garden, fairy tale, fairy lights, flower crown, ginger, gingerbread, cotton candy, candy cane, cookie, lamb, honeybee, bumblebee, twirly skirt, ballerina, blue butterfly, phoenix, songwriting, ivy, aspen, birch, oak, evergreen, starry sky, winter forest, winter flower, polar bear, black bear, grizzly bear, leopard, meadowlark, nightingale, holly, sea glass, mistletoe, crescent moon, feather, dystopia, utopia, lollipop, popsicle, cookie, candy/candycore, harp, soulqueer, neon, arcade/arcadecore, snowman, nebula, constellation, northern lights, shooting star, summer sunset, romantic love, queerplatonic love, platonic love, friendship, kindness, falcon, hawk, poison, gold, marble, rebel, astronomy, volcano, love/lovecore, babycore, minimalism, prairiecore, candle, fairy garden, coconut, ocean cliff, flying, spiral, magical, magic trick, tiger, pegasus, griffin, satyr/faun, misty sunrise, christmas tree, legendary, bowtie, secret, ghosty story, evil fairy, guitar, singing, rainbow sprinkles, rainbow sparkles, superhero, stone, forgotten, dryad, infinity, paradise, castle, peach, elephant, luck, courage, fear, sci-fi, fantasy, siren, campfire, library, swan, envy, apple juice, antique, greenhouse, hot chocolate, celestial, brownie, imagination, truth, magic wand, illusion, prophecy, euphoria, jewelry, heartbreak, stardust, nightlight, magical flower, angel bunny, notebook, silk, memory, liberty, honeydew, honeycrisp, autumn academia, mystery, heaven, hell, wisteria, whimsical, mirror, sugarplum, ice skating, bell, tuxedo, androgynous, spy, detective, wisdom, war, branch, sword, shield, gun, yule, xenic, genderless, glass, translucent, holy, overcast, sky, wax, zodiac, knitted doll, feathered dragon, evil, tabby cat, 50s, 20s, tuxedo cat, barn owl, snowy owl, creeper, enderman, pokemon, dovakiin, khajit, redguard, argonian, bosmer, dunmer, altmer, orsimer, imperial, Breton, nord, guard, drama, gender nonconforming, god/goddess, linguistic, clay doll, cornhusk doll, occult, tarot, lava, slime, luna moth, silk moth, poodle moth, rose maple moth, poltergeist, fruit bat, sloth, cyclops, flower fairy, narwhal, salt, she/her, he/him, they/them, it/its, funky, fresh, homey, bear, time travel, vampire bat, circus, songbird, pony, virus, fever, sand castle, hologram, radioactive, alternate timeline, alternate/parallel universe, white peacock, ancient ruins, distorted reality, victorian, victorian goth, enchantress

[goldrushzukka]

4 with yueki? 💕

kiss #4: an accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

It's a little chilly out here on the porch, but inside is - inside is a lot. A lot of noise, a lot of heat, a lot of drunken renditions of songs that may never be heard the same way again. No one is happier than Yue to see Sokka and Zuko in love and building a life together, but it's the kind of happiness that requires a moment of peace and quiet to really feel. And besides, it's not like she isn't used to the cold.

She takes a seat on the porch swing - an excellent touch, she'll have to find whoever's responsible and thank them - and stares up at the sky for a while. It's only clear enough to see random smatterings of stars, and the moon is a ghost hiding behind a cloud, but it's nice. It's calming. It's quiet, is what's important.

At least - it's quiet for a little while, until the door opens and the cacophony of celebration bleeds out into the night. The door closes again, and the beast is contained, and Suki takes slow, careful steps to the edge of the porch, leaning her elbows on the wooden barrier.

Yue gives her a moment, and then says, "You too, huh?"

Suki nearly jumps out of her skin. She swears, loudly, and then twists around to glare at Yue.

"Don't do that," she says, and Yue laughs.

A sliver of moon peeks out and casts Suki in pale blue loveliness, and Yue's smile freezes on her face.

"I just needed a breather," Suki says. "You know what Sokka's like, he'd marry us all if Zuko would let him."

"Has he started crying yet?"

Suki laughs. "I've got a wet patch on my shoulder."

Suki crosses over to the other side of the porch on unsteady legs. She looms over Yue for a second, impressive and statuesque, before dropping down into the seat next to her. And drop is the right word - she might be a little tipsier than expected, or maybe she doesn't know the bench can move, either way, she ends up half on top of Yue.

"Oh!" she says. "Sorry - I'll just -"

"No, hold on, let me -"

There's some shuffling and shifting and holding on for dear life when someone drifts too close to the edge of the bench, but they manage to settle, eventually, even if Yue does end up pinned where she sits by Suki's legs draped over her lap.

"There we go," Yue says.

Suki throws her head back and laughs, "You're a peach, you know that?"

Yue looks at her, eye closed and glowing under a combination of moonlight and Azula's show-off bursts of blue fire on the other side of the window, and says, a little breathlessly, "Thanks, Suki."

Suki still has her eyes closed when she kisses Yue.

Her eyes fly open and she jerks back immediately, lips finding lips where she clearly expected a cheek, and flushes bright red. "Oh," she says again, barely more than a squeak.

"Oh," Yue echoes. She can still feel it on her lips, that sweet-soft tingle of almost.

Suki's eyes are on Yue's mouth, even as she's apologising. "I'm sorry," she says, "I didn't mean to -"

"Hush," Yue tells her, and she does.

Yue leans in, nose bumping nose in question, and when Suki's answer is caught breath and a fingertip coming up to trace Yue's jaw, she closes the distance.

If almost was sweet, this is a sugar rush. This is cotton candy and maple syrup and a head full of cavities. This is on purpose, on purpose, on purpose.

[belleta]

The Forest - Part One

Consists: Supernatural, SKZ as different SN creatures, adventure, romance, drama, action, ......still trying to figure out all the details....lol XD

"Come on Y/N!", I was racing around the house. Trying to make sure I had everything for this trip. "Omg Y/N, let's GO~!" I swear to the universe she's going to thank me later. " I'm coming child!" I screamed back. Alrighty I just need my retainer. I bounded up the stairs and glided down the hallway with my cotton socks. Bursting into my room, I quickly scanned it for the sparkly emerald case. I caught sight of it out of the corner of my eye, "Boom!" I ran forward and snatched it off my windowsill. While leaping for my door, I paused and turned back to what I call my sanctuary. Call me paranoid but I'm kinda afraid of camping in the middle of the woods. Ever since I watched "The Blair Witch Project", I've been creeped.

It doesn't help that Jazzy forced us to watch the film, previous to this morning. I was drifting in the fairy floss clouds of my mind when a loud honk poured water on them. I sucked in a breath, blowing raspberries. Padding back over to my bedside, I grabbed my Ice Bear plushie. Giving it a quick squeeze and finally deciding that he's coming with me. Galloping back through the house, I made it out, locked the door and hopped in the back seat like a spring rabbit. "What took you so long?" I gazed up through my fringe at my girl bestie Jazmine. She had long beautiful honey blonde hair, and a mousy nose. Her blue eyes were alike with pebbles under a lake, with cheeks connected by a dash of light freckles. "I swear I just aged waiting for you" and Danny, our guy bestie. I've been best friends with Danny, since 3rd grade. Jazzy moved over during the 5th grade. All three of us have been with each other through thick and thin. Daniel was Hawaiian Japanese descent, had perfect colorful nails and absolutely gorgeous eye makeup. We were all dressed in casual, comfy clothes for the trip. Jazmine, or Jazzy as people call her, as the oldest. She was driving Danny's dad's truck. It was spacious and definitely was fit for the environment. Danny, second eldest was in shotgun and I, being the "baby", was in the back. "I was just making sure I have everything." The two rolled their eyes. Danny looked back at me "Girl, you need to chill. We've got everything and more" the boy stated. "I know, I know.....I'm just paranoid, you know.....being in the woods for a week" I looked down at my feet and played with my fingers to cover my embarressedness. "Awww, is the baby scared", Jazzy giggled, imitating a child. I swatted at her, "Let's just...finally go" I grumbled, reaching inside my bag to pull out my headphones. "Fine" they answered teasingly. While Jazzy was pulling out, I fastened myself and slid my headphones on. Bluetoothing them and unlocking my phone, I scrolled through my YouTube Music playlist finding the one named 'Bell Mix'. After that, I went back to the truffula trees and fairy floss. Just listening to my music and thinking about things. There were a couple times, where I thought I might get sick, but I had remembered my motion sickness bracelets. In your face! It's better to set out a little later, rather than having our vehicle reeking of my insides. 2 or 3 hours went by, or something. I'm not really sure, my brain doesn't really have a sense of time when I'm inside of it. We stopped to use the bathroom, get food and fuel at a gas station, maybe 2 hours away from the forest. "Can I, can I, can I, can I PLEASE?!?" I had been begging Jazzy to let me buy a bag of Haribo for 10 minutes now, and she was starting to break. I'm very persuasive as you find out, and I happen to be a very prominent weakness to many throughout my life. She finally gave in and I bounced away to the candy isle with glee and happily picked out a bag, promising to share. Jazzy just rolled her eyes and paid for our things. We trotted back to the car and continued our journey. It was nearing the end of 2pm when we finally arrived at the edge of the forest. It's lushes were absolutely perfectly splendid. The road continued for a hot minute, until it gave away to dirt and rocks. We didn't want to stray too far from the dirt road, so we slowly kept moving in until I suddenly exclaimed at the sight of a pretty little clearing. It had a few little bushes marking the edges, thick but soft looking grass, and a little dirt patch at one side that should be perfect for a firepit. We pulled over to take a look around, flattening a few bushes in the process. As soon as the truck came to a stop I shoved the door open and sprung down onto the flourishing forest floor. The first thing I did was take a deep breath to soak in the sweet scent of the untouched earth. I reached up, stretching and cracking a few of my bones in the process. Then I raced through the trees and undergrowth, toward the beautiful glade. It felt so nice to get away from civilization, I had always loved

getting away like this. Being able to recharge away from annoying people and sounds, my fears of the night were long forgotten. I was two steps away from the grass when I suddenly tripped over something. Tumbling forward and scratching my cheek. I landed on my face, but on the bright side it was luckily with no rocks around. The dirt however spared me at nothing, crawling into my fresh scrapes, was a sharp and quick stinging as I grabbed my face. "Seriously Y/N, we haven't even completely left the car yet and you've already managed to hurt yourself" Jazzy declared. Danny chimed in, "Did you hurt yourself at all?". Quickly inspecting myself, I responded "Yes, a tiny bit on my cheek, hands and knees", I could hear them muttering to themselves about how reckless I was sometimes. They started toward me and as I waited for them to catch up, I decided to look around and figure out where to put things for these next few days. While ogling the decently wide stretch that was conveniently shielded by a mighty sugar maple. I thought I saw something in the undergrowth a few meters away from me. I grabbed my glasses and narrowed my eyes, but right when I thought I saw whatever it was, two flashes shot in the opposite direction between the ferns and disappeared. They were kinda hidden but I could sorta make out one of the shapes was darker and slightly bigger. The other was a little bit easier but still was difficult, it was kinda brown, or maybe reddish? At that moment I felt two hands on my shoulders, "Let me see", it was Jazzy. She inspected my injury. "It'll be fine, just wash it off", "Okie-Dokie-Artichokie", she laughed and ruffled my hair. I gazed back at where I saw the two shapes but not even the bushes were still moving. "Hey!" I cocked my head back to the voice "Can you help me?" Danny was struggling to unpack from the back. "Sure thing Danny-O" I quickly stood up, maybe a little too quick. My vision went funny and I almost stumbled. "Oh my god Y/N! Be careful!" Jazzy scolded, "My bad!" I was a little all over the place at the moment. Finally we were on this trip! I mean, I waited 6 months for this and it's finally here! I'm not all childish, I'm actually very 4D. I'm just really excited okay? I more carefully walked back to the truck, where Danny was struggling to keep ahold of what appeared to be the tent. Over the course of the next hour and a half we set up everything. Goofing around and laughing. Danny had been pulling too hard on our sleeping bags, to wedge them out of the trunk. And had accidentally fallen onto the slightly wet dirt, causing a very prominent brown streak across his gray sweatpants and sky blue tie dye hoodie. I was currently on my way to find the stream that is supposably close by, with a screenshot of google maps and a compass. Service wasn't exactly a 5 star out here, but I didn't mind too much. I brought a portable WiFi router with me, so if Jason Vorhees just decided to pull one, we could call for help. Every so often I would hang a wooden heart ornament on one of the tree's branches, so if this was the correct way then we would never get lost. Also so that I didn't get lost right now. I had been making these last night, for these exact reasons. I swear only dumb people don't mark their surroundings, this is one of the main reasons why people disappear and are never found or get lost. There are no traces of where they've been, like these fruit loops really-...... After about another 20 meters I started hearing the sounds of water. It became louder and louder really quickly. Is there a waterfall here? I pondered, while quickening my pace with curiosity. 35 seconds later I came across a thinning in the trees and beyond a clear water stream. I finally broke out of the shelter provided from the thick leaves, the sun kissed my skin with it's warm touch. I looked around and sure enough, there was a small waterfall that looked straight out of a fairytale. It had multiple uneven levels, with smoothed boulders everywhere. And to top it all off, it had little water plants scattered around it. Absolutely

beautiful.... I scanned around and spotted a few giant boulders poking into the stream. I carefully picked my way over to them, clutching onto Danny's muddy clothes. Hopping onto the sunlight warmed stones, I positioned myself perfectly so that I could reach the water but wouldn't fall in. I reached into my pocket for my zip lock of natural soap, of course I didn't want to hurt this literally untouched land. I leaned down to dunk the fabric into the stream's crystal-like water and kneaded the brown smudge. It was decently cold, just perfect for a stream. I turned back to the small bag with a green bar wrapped with brown paper and a little herb decoration. I unzipped it and reached for a tiny hand towel I brought with me so that I would have a better grip on the soap, even if I got wet. After dunking the clothes in I took the bar of soap and swiped it all over. I dipped it into the water once to help the bubble come, then I started aggressively rubbing it. Once the outfit was foaming with suds, I slapped it into the brook. Holding onto the sleeve I rub it harshly all over to get the stains out. It was relatively still easy because the events of cause were only moments before. I was starting to disappear into my thoughts, getting deeper and deeper and deeper....... And just then a crash and from the trees, followed by snarls and barks. I was so lost in my thought that this jolted me into the canal. The water suddenly became ice cold, my scream had been washed away. A surge of water filled my lungs from the way my mouth was open to yelp. I could still hear the sounds of fighting every so often, when I would surface. My head was hurting, my skin was stinging and my lungs were screaming. Someone.....please help..... It was hurting so much, I was trying not to panic. So I could find the surface and get back to shore. I would break through it's crisp arctic clutches every so often and would cry out for help but then get cut off by the now frosty darkness. I was giving up to the stream and submitting to the coldness. Letting it swallow me whole. I was numb, I couldn't feel my body being thrown around anymore, Is this how my story ends? No! I don't want to! I still have things to do! I need to graduate, and find my passion! I need to find a man who will love me as much as I do! I need to birth young and care for them! I want to grow old with my partner happily! I can't die yet! I just can't! But it was just so cold. I had stopped moving violently, so I guess I had been poured into a lake or something. I didn't care anymore. My blood felt frozen, I couldn't even bend a finger. That's when I felt a force near me, it parted the waters. Moving me in a different direction with its power. Then not long after I felt something grab hold of me in an awkward way. I was starting to be pulled into another direction, as the water streamed around, parting to let me and whatever that was saving me through. Then I broke through the surface and that was the last thing I felt before slipping into a comfy unconsciousness.

[beanieman]

3B Shin/Alice Lives Route Live Play

So I recorded my thoughts here as I played the game. Here they are!

Warning: I swear and yell in all caps a lot. 

Mr.Policeman had a son. Are we getting Mr.Policeman is Joe’s Dad theory confirmed??? 

I’M SHAKING IT’S TOO HARD TO TYPE

This is horrible but I hope Keiji dies next. I don’t want any of the others to go. 

SHIN MY BELOVED

SARA DO NOT SIGN THE GODDAMN FORM I SAID ABANDON KEIJI 

Ranmaru I love you. (Very thankful he tore the form, at least the first time)

Keiji taking responsibility for his actions?? Will I regret saying I hope he dies earlier? 

The OST is a banger!

I wonder if Shin can save Keiji and he just refuses too. (This was later proven wrong.)

New Mai sprites!! I’m looking respectfully!! I KNEW HER HARMLESSNESS WAS AN ACT!! FUCK YEAH GIRLBOSS MAI!!

Am I going to turn this blog into a Ranmaru stan account? It’s looking possible. 

Cotton Candy. I’m calling him that from now on. 

Shin watching as Alice gives his speech. The game says Alishin rights! (In hindsight, I’m sad) 

When Sara said the dubious consent form I misread it as “dumbass consent form” and almost lost it. 

Getting the ID card is too easy. This is going to do something that kills Keiji, huh?

WAIT WAS MIDORI A DOLL THIS ENTIRE TIME?? FUCKING BASTARD!! I want to punch him in the throat so bad. Alice you deserved so much better than this bitch.

IF MIDORI WAS TORTURING HUMANS WHAT DID HE DO TO SHIN??

SOMEONE ASK IF SHIN’S OKAY DAMMIT!!

Midori is so done with Maple. Ew what does she mean insert. 

SARA AND MARU ENDING?? I’m kind of okay with that?? 

How much do you want to bet, Shin and Sara will end up being the two living together and having to choose who becomes a doll? The drama!!

Shin looks so disgusted to take the handkerchief. I love him. Shin is also getting braver!! Which is bad for Keiji and Sara. 

Naomichi and Shin’s fortitude isn’t women huh? 🏳️‍🌈 Just saying. 

Shin and Alice even argue like husbands

Naomichi and Anzu are literally siblings 

“Don’t associate me with him” bitch you stole his name.

NOOOO NAOMCIHI NOOOO Q-TARO

Shunsuke is gunning for the role of best Father this chapter I see

Oh shit Ranmaru’s going to snap

Gin and Alice are such a fun BROTP

Wait did Alice even shove him? Because it seems like he fell

Disappointed but not surprised the outside world is in on it

The real Sou might be alive??????

Loose his seat?? Was Sou supposed to participate? 

I’m going to hope Alice’s calmness is character development and not mind washing. 

Holy fuck I think everyone besides Sara is an agent of ASU-NARO 

I cried over Shin’s AI dammit (Cry total: 1)

Shin could only turn up the heat when Sou wasn’t there. Shin could only be comfortable when Sou wasn’t there. 

Sou might not be a member of Asu Naro?? He won’t say if he signed the form. Is the plot twist going to be Shin is the only one not an Asu Naro agent??

Shin’s into cute things and robot action figures!!

Oh wow Tia and Miley 😳

OH MY GOD AUTISTIC GIN IM ACTUALLY CRYING ITS CANON THATS SO COOL!!!

Oh fuck you Sou for taking advantage of his autism. I hate this bitch.

Oh Ranmaru is so in love with Sara (Oh count 4) 

Okay so emotion route is actually the route I’m probably going to play for now on. Sara sole survivor ending seems like how the logic route will end. While Sara will die on the emotion Route. (it’s not. Logic route is still my canon route.) 

Sara has a piece of Joe on the emotion Route but not on the logic route. She’s really going to feral.

Excuse me why did Sara just acknowledge Joe? Is she pretending to forget Joe for an advantage?? Holy fuck.

Also Shin was completely justified to be scared of Sara given what we just learned. I’m about to become a Shin apologist.

It’s interesting Naomichi seems to see through Shin

OH FUCK KEIJIS DEAD

I like this game a lot more without his “your cute “comments if I’m being honest. That weirded me out.

Oh fuck the fucking form goddammit I hate this stupid game Sara he isn’t worth this. You just sold your soul to the devil.

“Sounds good to me” 🙄

I don’t want to doubt Mai but...I’m doubting Mai.

I ship Ransara so hard. They’d be so good for each other. (This statement aged so poorly in the span of ten minutes.) 

I mentioned Soup and Shin’s Sou persona seemed to vanish. This man lost all resolve over soup.

Sara I know you don’t want to loose anymore allies but holy shit calm down.

What the hell is going on?

Why is Keiji excited about the tools??

I’m kind of shipping Maple X Mai

I HATE KEIJI MAN

I was spoiled about Alice’s death in this route before playing :(

NOT THE SHIN AI

What in the Nagito was Mai doing??

I GOT NAOMICHI KILLED AND I DON’T KNOW IF IT WAS MY FAULT OR THAT HAD TO HAPPEN

I already knew Hinako was the traitor why am I gasping

SHIN STILL CARES ABOUT THE KIDS!!

KEIJI WAS THE GUY AT THE START??

KEIJI HAS MISHIMAS HEAD (He didn’t)

Guess I’m killing Keiji

WHAT THE FUCK Q-TARO

Q-TARO WHAT THE FUCK NO NO NO NO

I’M CRYING

Q-TARO BEST DAD.

I’m not sure I ship Ransara now. Saraanzu is where the shipping lies.

If Tia told Q-Taro it was too late....was she lying and he sacrificed himself unknowingly?? Tia did lie to the group about Kanna not feeling pain as she died. So it’s not out of character. 

I love that Shin and Sara were being some what cooperative in this chapter. He’s definitely going to murder her later, but it’s nice while it lasted.

Shunsuke is the last doll standing on my route. Good. I love him. <3 

I think I like the dolls more than a lot of the participants. Oops.  

[incorrectbatfam]

What do the bats smell like

This can either come out as super poetic or super creepy so let’s see how this goes

Alfred smells like culmination of many long, eventful years. Handmade rosemary bar soap bought from local businesses and a hint of his favorite lemon-scented cleaning spray. Steamed Earl Grey slowly sipped whilst reading a book so old that the pages were yellow. He smells like age; like an antique shop brimmed with undiscovered stories, like the cathedral-like libraries of Oxford, the cobbled streets of historical Southampton. Alfred Pennyworth smells like wisdom

Stephanie smells sweet, like living the teenage dream. She smells like the strawberry lip gloss and rose perfume that she keeps in her purse. Like her friend’s hairspray and cupcakes at a sleepover, a twinge like the girls locker room at school, a tad like the fruit gum she impulse-bought in the checkout line. She smells like candy bars from a gas station, like hot maple syrup served with waffles at a retro diner. Stephanie Brown smells like happiness

Duke smells like everything he’s absorbed from the world around him. There’s the smell of musky deodorant and sweatshirts put through multiple washes. Stone-washed denim and green apple shampoo and wintermint chapstick. He smells like grass and rocky mountain ranges and the big city at the same time. It’s the best parts of civilization—streetcars and city hall marches and little vinyl shops tucked between skyscrapers. Duke Thomas smells like progress

Cassandra smells like proof that anybody can triumph over darkness should they be willing enough. She’s got the light fragrance of blackberries and blooming purple irises. She smells like classy Gucci perfume and fine silk when she has to go out, but on a regular day at home it’ll be more like sweat from training and rainwater and black tea in a thermos and sometimes Stephanie’s frou-frou makeup if she borrows it. Cassandra Cain smells like growth

Damian, try as he may, still smells like the little boy he is. Sure, he slathers on his brothers’ deodorant or tries to use his father’s aftershave in the absence of facial hair, but those are a transparent facade. Really, he still smells new, like he never fully outgrew being a baby. It’s light and airy, with hints of the dandelions he and Jon rolled in and nothing but love for every animal he comes by. Like Dick’s stolen hoodies and Tim’s flannel shirts. Damian Wayne smells like hope

Tim smells like hard work and waiting for the day it all pays off. From the crisp cleanness of his business suits to the blood and dirt of vigilante life, there’s always a reminder that he’s going his best. He smells like hair grease from not showering for three days. He smells like black coffee and salty corn chips. Like metallic batarangs and the desire to be better. The desire to be the teammate, the brother, the hero he knows he can be. Tim Drake smells like determination

Jason smells like a man who’s got everything to die and kill for. There’s the tanned leather of his jacket, peppered with gunpowder and iron-like dried blood. Motel soaps from moving around and Roy’s favorite hat. Motorcycle exhaust, kicking up dust, middle fingers in the air. Smoking cigarettes while reading the paper by lamplight, middle-shelf whiskey, hitting the boulevard at night and not waking up ‘til next twilight. Jason Todd smells like rebellion

Dick smells like it’s his god given right seize every moment. Ice cream sundaes and cotton candy from chaperoning his brothers to arcades and carnivals. Light vanilla like the extract Alfred uses to bake and pine trees at the holidays. He smells like the patience unique to eldest siblings and camaraderie unique to his team. He smells like chlorine, like blueberries, like perfume samples and hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. Dick Grayson smells like adventure

Bruce smells like everything the world expects him to be but also nothing like that at all. Expensive cologne and aftershave, the stiff fabric of tuxedos, countless hours of printed paper and makeup for all the interviews. But underneath that there’s the smell of buttered popcorn and fudge brownies reminiscent of family movie marathons, plus a little bit of everyone else’s scents rubbed off on him from hugs he’s warmed up to. Bruce Wayne smells like home

[hedwigstalons]

Rite of Passage

This is written for #irrelief set up by @gumnut-logic.  This is for both @tsarinatorment who wanted Scott teaching a younger brother how to fly, and @scribbles97 who wanted anything with Scott and Alan.  

xoxoxox

“Up and at ‘em, birthday boy.  These pancakes won’t last long if you don’t get down here quick.”

 Grandma Tracy’s voice reverberated down the corridor to Alan’s room, stirring him in to action.  At twelve years old he had lost the desire to be up at the crack of dawn and even his own birthday couldn’t entice him out of his room any earlier than was necessary.  Although if pancakes were on offer that could only mean one thing – Virgil was cooking.

The thought of Virgil’s thick and fluffy pancakes gave him the final push he needed otherwise he risked losing his share.  He thundered down the stairs towards the kitchen and snagged a stack of pancakes from the pile in the middle of the table.  The serving platter was loaded to overflowing and the jug of maple syrup was still full.  Despite the threats no one else had started although Gordon was practically drooling from his place at the far side of the table.

 All the Tracy boys appreciated good food.  It could be in short supply on a rescue and in even shorter supply on the island if Grandma Tracy took it into her head to care for them with a good old fashioned dose of home cooking.  Taking their cue from Alan the stack of pancakes was soon demolished.  Blocks of butter were carved in to.  Syrup dribbles were slurped off fingers.  The feeding frenzy only finished when Virgil announced that there was no more batter left, much to the disappointment of everyone present.

 With his stomach finally full Alan was able to take a proper look around the table.  For once all of his brothers were present, even John.  Comms must have been routed through to the island to allow his space monitor sibling to attend.  He appreciated the effort; having John around was a rare treat and he missed the sibling who had inspired his love of space.  He just hoped the Earth stayed quiet for a few hours.  It always hurt watching his brothers dash off in their craft to save the world.  Since Gordon earned his full IR blues last year he was the only one left behind when a call for help came in.

 There was still one noticeable gaping absence in the assembled company.  The place at the head of the table was empty.  No one yet had the heart to sit in the chair that had until recently been the preserve of their father.  This was Alan’s first birthday since the Zero-X exploded.  His first birthday without his father.  The thought made the pancakes sit heavily in his stomach, as though they had been made of cardboard.  

 All joy seemed to leach out of the day.

 Birthdays were meant to be special.  Twelfth birthdays even more so.  Turning twelve allowed a Tracy to obtain the freedom of the skies.  That magical rite of passage that was the first time being in control of an aircraft.  He was no stranger to flying as a passenger, all Tracys seemed to clock up air miles from birth, but to actually take control was a privilege that had so far been denied to him.

 It had all started with Scott.  Scott, who would bleed aviation fuel if you cut him and had been obsessed with the skies from the moment he had first been placed on a blanket outside as a baby to watch the clouds go by.  Scott, who had been asking to fly since he could talk.  Other boys might ask for bicycles for their birthday, Scott asked for aeroplanes.  And when Scott turned twelve he had been deemed mature enough, and tall enough, to move into the pilot’s seat.  

 It was a milestone that had carried on with each brother in turn.

 It was a milestone that Alan was to be denied.  There was no father around to take him up and hand over control.

 The celebration moved through to the lounge where a stack of presents were arranged on one of the sofas.  Books, video games and new clothes all appeared from the brightly wrapped parcels.  A box of snacks and candy from Gordon was quickly whisked away to his room to be hidden from thieving brothers.  Even birthday candy wasn’t sacred if left in a communal area; exhausted brothers returning from the danger zone could demolish a pack of Oreos quicker than you could say ‘Thunderbirds are go!’.

 Soon there were no more parcels left.

 “So, Alan, any plans for your big day?”  Scott asked.

 With his attention taken up with reading the back of one of the video game boxes Alan completely missed the smirks that were exchanged between his brothers.

 “Maybe play one of these.  Anyone up for it?”  He held up one of the boxes.  A space rocket filled the cover and the tagline promised intergalactic adventures that were out of this world.

 “Sorry.  Maybe later. I’ve got some maintenance to do.”

 The disappointment on Alan’s face was clear to all as Scott turned and headed off towards the hangers.

 “Anyone?” He waved the box in a hopeful manner but the lounge was already clearing as everyone went off to their respective duties.

 “Sorry, Al.  I don’t really have time for games.  Scott’s right, there is maintenance to do.  If you come and give me a hand on Three I might get done in time for a game before I head back up to the office.”

 Alan perked up at this prospect.  Thunderbird Three was his favourite craft but one he was rarely allowed near.  The mighty space rocket seemed to call out to him and he longed to one day feel her power. Every time she launched in to orbit Alan could be found drooling at the windows of the villa.  It was a sight he never grew tired of.  The thought of spending time with John was also not to be sneezed at.

 Alan willingly followed John to the elevators but instead of heading towards Thunderbird Three’s silo John started leading the way towards the private hanger.  Alan trailed along behind.  Maybe John needed to collect some tools or speak to one of the others first.  They would get to the rocket soon enough and then Alan could lose himself in the mighty machine.  If he was lucky John might even let him sit in the pilot’s seat.

 As he entered the hangar Alan found himself blinking. Bright tropical sunshine spilled through the open door, exposing the view of the runway and the ocean beyond.

 Once his eyes stopped watering and adjusted to the brightness Alan noticed his brothers and Grandma all gathered round.  There, lined up to exit the hanger, was the small two-seater propeller plane that rarely saw the light of day.  Probably not since Gordon had turned twelve.

 “You didn’t think we would forget would you?”  Scott stepped forwards, already kitted out in his blues and holding out one final parcel.

 Alan stepped forwards to meet him and accepted the gift. He peeled off the paper almost reverentially, partly because of the significance of the gift and partly because he knew better than to leave litter in the hangar that could get sucked in to aircraft engines.

 Hidden underneath the folds of paper was a familiar flash of blue.  He shook out the material and held up the small flight suit.  The stiff cotton was unblemished and still heavily creased in its newness.  He rubbed his thumbs over the material as he held the suit by the shoulders.  A patch badge on the breast proclaimed ‘A. TRACY’.

 It might not be the high-tech material of his brothers’ uniforms but it was his.  A symbol of the next stage of his life.  Each brother in turn had been gifted their first flight suit on turning twelve.  The significance of the colour was not lost on him. For each of the others the flight suit had been in the traditional green used by the US Air Force.   His was sky blue with patches of a slightly darker shade on the knees and elbows. This suit was proof that one day he would be accepted as a Thunderbird.  Provided he could actually master flying.

 He undid the velco down the front of the suit with a satisfying rip and stepped in.  The legs and arms were a little long but it gave him some growing room.  Scott knelt down in front of him and folded up the cuffs into a fetching pair of turnups while Alan rolled back the sleeves a couple of turns.

 “Can’t have these catching on the controls.”  Scott murmured and he stood up, stepping back to admire his handiwork.  “You ready?”

 Alan could only nod dumbly as Scott led him over the aircraft and helped him in.  

 The aircraft was rather more basic than anything else in the Tracy fleet.  Dual controlled with a simple stick and rudder pedals.  It was the perfect trainer plane to learn the principals of flight.  Of course it had had a few Tracy upgrades over the years.  The instruments were now more in line with those found on the Thunderbirds and the comms unit was able to connect to the secure International Rescue frequencies.  The technology was nothing new to Alan who had grown up with a lot of these features as standard but an outsider might have found the juxtaposition between high and low tech to be a touch strange.

 “At least you are a bit taller than Gordon was” Scott said as he slotted himself into the second seat by Alan’s side, “Dad had to put him on a booster wedge.”

 Alan smirked a little about this piece of ammunition. His next older brother made a big thing about Alan being the baby of the family.  Next time Gordon teased about him having homework to do or not being allowed to swim without on of the others present Alan knew just what he would throw back in his fish brother’s face.  

 Lost in his imaginings of being able to retaliate against Gordon Alan missed that Scott had stared speaking again.  Information about pitch, roll and yaw; rudders, flaps and ailerons had passed him by.

 “Earth to Alan.”

 A hand was waved in front of his face, jerking him back to reality.

 “Huh.  What was that, Scotty?”

 “Wake up, kid.  This thing won’t learn to fly itself.  I said the stick controls the flaps and ailerons” Scott gave the stick a waggle and Alan watched as sections on the wings and tail moved correspondingly, “and the pedals control the rudder”.  Alan turned around and saw the rudder section in the tail swing left and right as the pedals at his feet shifted, mirroring the action caused by Scott manipulating his own pedals.  “Now lets get this baby fired up.  Just watch what I do for now.  You can keep your hands and feet on the controls but make sure you don’t put any pressure on them, just touch them lightly so you can feel what I’m doing.”

 Scott’s fingers flew deftly over the various switches in the cockpit.  The engine stuttered in to life and the propeller began to turn until it was a near-invisible blur at the front of the plane.  A few more switches that Alan recognised as belonging to the radio and they were ready to go.

 “Trainerbird One requesting permission to take off”.

 John’s hologram popped up in the cockpit showing that he had evidently headed back to the lounge to run comms.

 “Trainerbird One you are cleared for take off.”

 Alan felt the small aircraft vibrate as Scott increased the power and they slowly rolled forwards towards the hanger doors and the outside world.  Soon they were moving at speed towards the end of the runway and Alan was suddenly struck by how short the strip was.  Normally he was the passenger section of one of the jets or they used VTOLs.  The small training craft gave him an entirely new perspective of the world.

 Scott really was a master of all things aeronautical and Alan barely felt them leave the ground despite the most basic component of the Tracy fleet providing little protection against the pull of forces.  He kept a fingertip touch on the controls and felt the aircraft turn and dip to Scott’s commands.  The ocean glittered below, blending with the crystal clear sky on the distant horizon.

 Despite normally piloting the most advanced plane in the world Alan could tell that Scott was enjoying himself too.  The small propeller plane was neither fast nor elegant but the primitive controls only served to deepen the connection between man and machine.  Every action had a reaction which was fed back to the pilot via the controls.  Every gust of wind was felt and needed to be responded to.  Pilot and craft needed to work in harmony rather than one assuming control of the other.

 “You ok there Alan?  Feel ready to take control for a bit?”

 Alan looked across at his eldest brother, his eyes shining.

 “Really?”

 “Sure.  Just avoid hitting the island and you’ll be fine.  You have control.”

 “I have control” Alan responded, parroting the interaction between pilot and co-pilot that he had witnessed so many times previously.

 And then he did.  Scott’s hands were no longer on the stick but were instead placed neatly in his lap.  Alan had no doubt that those same hands would be back on the controls in an instant if anything went wrong but for now the sky was his own.

 After a couple of minutes of level flying, circling around the island, Scott looked across at his youngest brother.  He could tell that Alan was just itching to try something a little more adventurous.  

 “Go on, put her through her paces.  I’m here if anything goes wrong.”

 Alan needed no second bidding.  Soon the small plane was dipping and turning.  First moving with the wind, then against, as he got a feel for the craft and her abilities.  The freedom of the skies was his and he could see why his brothers soon got miserable if they were grounded.  Even Gordon, whose natural habitat was in the ocean, was not immune to the lure of the skies and griped if he couldn’t get airborne.  His heart soared as he felt the shifting air currents and the pull of the forces as he coaxed the plane through progressively more ambitious and demanding manoeuvres.

 All too soon it was time for lesson one to come to an end as Scott took control again with Alan gently feeling the movements required for landing.  The short runway rushed up as Scott took the steep approach angle necessitated by their island home.  A subtle bump and bounce announced their reconnection with the ground.

 Once the craft was still Scott reached out and draped an arm around his brother’s shoulders.  In the confined space of the cockpit they had been practically touching for the whole flight and it took no effort at all to turn it in to some semblance of a hug.

 “So what did you think, Al?  Another lesson tomorrow if rescues allow?  You did great up there.”

 Alan nodded against his brother’s shoulder, not trusting his voice as an unexpected wave of emotion washed over him.

 Scott sensed the younger boy stiffen against him.  He looked down and spotted the moisture welling up in Alan’s eyes, the clenched jaw showed just how hard Alan was fighting to stay in control.

 “Hey, what’s wrong?”

 “Did...did I really do ok?”

 “Yeah.  I’m proud of you.  Dad would have been proud too.”

 And that was the tipping point.  Alan twisted in the confined space and Scott found himself wrapped in a tight embrace as Alan fully buried his face in the shoulder of Scott’s uniform, sobs wracking his body.  Scott rubbed a hand gently up and down the back of Alan’s flight suit, letting Alan have his moment and burn out in his own time.

 Soon the moment had passed.  With one final sniff Alan pulled himself out of the embrace and suddenly became very interested in the wall of the hanger visible through the side windows of the cockpit.  

 “I mean it Alan.”  Scott spoke to the back of Alan’s head.  “Dad would be so proud of you today.  I know it’s not the same for you but it was an honour to take you up today. You’re a natural up there.”

 Alan turned back to face him, a grin splitting his face.

 “So, next time you’re going to take me up in Thunderbird One?”

 “Nice try, kid.  Nice try.”

[nightwingshero]

1 to 25 for Whitney xoxo

Wow, you really went for it, huh? Lol under the cut, my dear x

1. What’s their go to pick up line/flirting tactic?

Whitney is obvious as a flirt (when she can actually flirt), and it shows in her body language: hair flipping, touching your arm and giggling at anything funny you say, crossing her legs, puffing her chest out a bit, and leaning in close to you. She’s going to wait for you to make the first move, and you will because she will have you eating out of the palm of her hand. Jedi mind trick, because sure, you think picking her up is your choice...when that decision was made before she even started talking to you. 

2. Can they dance?

Nope, not really. While Whitney does work out (she’s not shy from doing physical activity), she hardly ever dances. She believes its silly and she would rather be saved from the embarrassment. 

3. Underwear style?

Silk and lace. Usually in the colors of light pink, white, or shades of gold. 

4. Crayons, markers, colored pencils, or paint?

All of them. Whitney went to school for art and she uses a lot of different mediums. Paint is her favorite, though, and she has a sun room she uses as a studio. 

5. What was their childhood stuffed animal of choice?

A fuzzy teddy bear her mother bought her not long before she died. It has a red ribbon/bow around it’s neck and sits in her armchair in her bedroom. 

6. What’s their sleeping positions?

Whitney doesn’t move around a lot in her sleep. Mostly it’s on her back, but sometimes she sleeps on her side. 

7. Do they snore?

Oh, hell no. Whitney wouldn’t tell you if she did, to be honest. Snoring is above her and ladies don’t do that. 

8. What do they act like when they’re drunk?

Ha! Look, I’m just gonna tell you now: Wren and Jane are the worst influence over her, I swear. Anyway! White girl wasted, I’m telling you. Mostly with tequila though. She’s the fruity drink kind and she’s a light weight...it doesn’t mix well for her. Now, if it’s wine or she’s only had a little to drink--she’s just a little more emotional. 

9. Sweet, sour, salty, or savory?

Sweet. She bakes a lot and loves it. She likes sour drinks, but that’s about it as far as that goes. Whitney has a complicated relationship with salty foods, she tries to eat healthy, so she doesn’t really eat a whole lot of salty things. 

10. Can they play an instrument? If so, which one(s)?

No, not really. She knows some basic piano, but not a whole lot, so she doesn’t really count it. She does sing though and helps with the choir. 

11. What would their favorite book be?

Little Women

12. What is their guilty pleasure?

Already answered! 

13. If they got a new pet, what would they name it?

Something super cute and adorable, like Pumpkin or some shit. She had a small white dog named Snow White once...she’s not original. 

14. Beach house, cozy snowy cabin, treehouse in a forest, or desert paradise?

Already answered!

15. What would their favorite board game be?

Life, Connect Four, Candy Land, and Trivial Pursuit (although Wren and Rowan kick her ass).

16. What do they smell like?

She’s gonna have more of a floral scent, mostly roses. She will also smell like whatever she decided to bake--apple or blueberry pie, sugar cookies, etc. Honey, vanilla, Viktor and Rolf Flowerbomb perfume, and Marc Jacobs Daisy perfume.

17. What’s their favorite smell?

Florals, mostly. Anything citrus and some woodsy scents--sandalwood, cedar, and pine (although you won’t catch her dead in the woods). She loves maple and pumpkin spice (she’s one of those), honey, and brown sugar. 

18. If they were drunk, what would they get a tattoo of?

God, Wren would fucking try...Whitney would get a butterfly tattoo, she so fucking would. And yes, probably in the form of a fucking tramp stamp, especially if Wren has anything to do with it. (Istg, Wren and Jane live to corrupt Whitney). If not, she would get it on her hip or get one of those badass under-the-boob tats. I could also see her getting something simple between her boobs--Wren would totally get one with her. 

19. Describe their laugh.

Bells, honestly. I know that sounds weird. But it’s not too different from Wren’s, but Wren’s is more...wholesome. If that makes sense? Like, Whitney has a higher note to it, but its a bit sharper, while Wren’s is a tad bit high-pitched, but more full. I don’t know if I’m explaining this right. 

20. Hoodies, knit sweaters, wool coats or just a blanket to stay warm?

Knit sweaters and blankets quilts. Whitney is warm and loves things like that. She’s very homey underneath the materialistic uptight front she has (mostly thanks to Nancy and some of Joseph). She’s genuinely loving and caring, not the condescending southern rot-your-teeth sweet she uses on her enemies or the Resistance. Whitney is very much “let me cook you a good meal, you’re skin and bones, and have some hot chocolate with 30 blankets--we can watch Hallmark movies together. Or Nicholas Sparks. Do you like Nicholas Sparks?”. She will definitely be a knit sweater kinda girl. 

21. Are they good with their hands? How do they deal with household-type maintenance?

She’s useless, maintenance wise. Good with her hands? With gardening (the only acceptable time to be dirty) and painting, yes. Baking? Absolutely. Fixing things? Hell no. Woman has no idea what she’s doing, she would probably die changing a light bulb. 

22. If they had a custom car horn, what would it be?

Heaven Is a Place on Earth or Pocketful of Sunshine. If Wren’s rigging it, it’s gonna be I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston or Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey....Killer Queen is also on the table.  

23. Favorite carnival attraction?

Cotton candy stand and the carousal. 

24. Showers or baths?

Baths, all day long. She’s a self-care queen, and will either do bubbles, bath bombs, or rose petals. There are candles involved most of the time with a glass of wine and something she can watch Netflix on. 

25. What’s their ideal day like?

A bright sunny day painting next to the pond in her backyard with music lightly playing in the background. Maybe with some friends over for company. If it’s raining, she’s gonna be in the sun room painting or enjoying a classic movie--like Titanic or something. 

[hirako5hinji]

@viciousvizard​

         Christmas day, he dragged her out of bed first thing in the morning, way earlier than even he would usually rise, already all washed up and impeccably groomed, dressed in dapper human world clothes. Tailored pressed pants, slim fit turtleneck sweater, double breasted long coat and Dr. Martens winter boots, he was in stark, unrelieved black today, and cut a sleek, elegant figure. Petting her rump as he pushed her towards the bathroom to wash up, he drawled in that singsongy manner that annoyed her to no end.

              “ C’mon, brat. Up and at it; ya’ve gotta fantasy ‘ta fulfill today~ ”

         When she emerged finally presentable enough to be seen out amongst the general public once more, changed and face scrubbed pink, he handed over her first present. A puffy, cotton padded winter parka with a soft, luxurious faux-fur lined hoodie, in her favorite color. The season was cold and he was tired of watching her run around in that thin tracksuit jacket that barely protected her from the elements. Taking advantage of her momentary surprise, he moved quickly and zipped her into it before she could start protesting. She looked like a disgruntled red cotton puff by the time he was done, and he wasn’t just referring to the crimson of her new coat. She looked warm and the waist length jacket fit her well, which pleased him.

         They slipped into a pair of temporary gigai, and he led her to the nearest Senkaimon, ignoring her barrage of questions the whole time – she would see where they were heading when they got there. They found themselves in downtown Tokyo in short order. Shibuya was a winter wonderland this year; the clean, pristine streets dusted white with a light coating of snow and glittering with bright fairy lights and glimmering Christmas decorations, glowing with a magical appeal even in the daylight.

         First order of business was breakfast. Hiyori was grumpy without food in her and he was keen to avoid that in light of the long day she was going to be in for today. The café he brought her to overlooked the Shibuya Crossing and was cozy and well known for their breakfast spread; thick stacks of fluffy, jiggly pancakes with whipped cream, caramelized maple syrup and candied bacon bits, the airiest scrambled eggs and freshly toasted bagels with smoked salmon, juicy heirloom tomatoes and generous, creamy avocado slices, accompanied by aromatic drip coffee that smelled like heaven- he was content watching her over the rim of his cup as she tore ravenously into her food. Reaching over to swipe off the residual cream that smeared her lower lip, he licked it off the pad of his thumb idly, enjoying her sweetness. His lips tipped up in a flitting, teasing grin.

              “ Order more if yer still hungry. Ya better eat well; tonight’s gonna be a long night for ya, ‘lil one~ ”

         Breakfast came and when just like that. The meal was comfortable, companionable, and he enjoyed his time with her. They had known each other for too long and too intimately for any feeling of awkwardness to come between them. He spirited her away again, very much playing up this Christmas mystery. Their next stop was…a wellness salon. An upscale, trendy place that Shinji often visited for his own personal grooming needs. It was a good thing that he was personally acquainted with the owner; there was always a month-long wait list for appointments and it would have been impossible to get a slot on Christmas day otherwise.

              “ Yo, Nana-san, ” he greeted the heavily made up woman who had came striding up to him the moment they entered the tastefully decorated establishment, grinning as he waggled his fingers at the muscular, heavyset female. Pushing Hiyori forward, he idly made the introductions. “ This here is my princess. Treat her well, will ya? Hiyori, Nana-san will take good care of ya~ ”

         The rising realization on Hiyori’s face was almost comical to behold, as was her growing panic. He turned to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing subtly in a reassuring manner. Or perhaps it was to keep her from running away? Long fingers caressed her cheek affectionately, fondness growing in him at her shell-shocked features. Once she got over her astonishment and mortified resistance, he thought that she was going to enjoy being pampered at the hands of these professionals. Hair, face, nails, body ��� they would take good care of her, in that way he knew she had always secretly yearned for.

              “ Yer gonna glow for me tonight. This is what I want. Ya’ll fulfill my fantasy, won’t ya, Princess? ”

[emphasis-all-mine]

Ask thingy Shallura no 1

1. things you said at 1 am

**

“Hullo,” Allura slurs into the phone, still half-asleep.

“… Fuck.”

“Shiro?” She asks.

“I’ll call you later.”

“No, I’m awake,” Allura sits up, cracking her neck and rolling her shoulders.

“What time is it there?”

“One am,” Allura says, looking to her nighstand. She’s set the cheap alarm clock she bought at the corner store to his timezone. “It’s only ten in the morning in Kyoto, what’s going on?”

“Exactly, so I’ll call back. I forgot to convert to London, I forgot you were there instead of home.”

“No, you won’t,” Allura adjusts her blankets. “Do you want me to facetime?” He doesn’t respond so she turns on facetime anyway.

He’s in bed as well, she can tell from his tired eyes, the bed-mussed hair and the sweat.

“Hey stranger,” she smiles. “Talk me through it. Bad dreams?”

Shiro nods. Allura notices she’s barely visable in the corner of the screen. “Hold on, I’ll turn on a light. Brace yourself.”

She’s got epic bedhead, some of her rollers have fallen out in her sleep and other strands are sticking up all over the place and she’s wearing one of his threadbare and stained USMC shirts. There are bags under her eyes and she still has her nightguard in her mouth, making her lisp.

“You look awful,” Shiro laughs. “Fuck, I miss you.”

Allura grins. “I’m going to be on a plane in three more days.”

“I dreamed the plane went down.”

She doesn’t ask which one. The one she’ll be on, or the one he was in during his tour. It doesn’t matter which one, really.

“That must have been terrifying.”

“I was falling.”

“I dreamed that Father went on The Bachelor and Coran was hosting and they ran off together. Lance threw roses at me and started crying and Hunk kept handing out muffins. Then I was riding one of those Lisa Frank dolphins and we were eating maple syrup cotton candy again.”

“Wanna trade dreams?”

“Do you? Father was naked. Actually, I’m fairly certain everyone was naked. Including the dolphin.”

“Nevermind. Your imagination is really weird.”

“Three more days,” Allura smiles. “You get this messy weird dolphin dream girl in three days.”

“You are my dream girl,” Shiro says, his shoulders relaxing. “Tell me some more?”

Allura lays back down. “Okay, so don’t ask how I know this, but the dolphin’s name was Aoshima. I think the muffins were either kale or spinach? Something green, do you think I need more iron in my diet? Anyway…”

**

From the Writing Prompt Meme!

[cupidmarwani-archive]

Come Into the Water (2/15)

When Sarah wakes up, her whole body aches, just as she expected, and the light coming through the cracks in the blinds tells her that it must be mid-morning. The light is still coming in through the eastern kitchen window stronger than that of the slider on the west, and has a tilted slant to the way it fades into her tiles. She should really unpack her few belongings, she thinks, but instead lays on the floor for a while longer, simply watching the dust drift in the sunbeams. 

Once she finally gets to her feet, she decides to go see the neighbor, Maggie. She’s supposed to be making friends and not isolating, after all, and if she hasn’t talked to anyone by her appointment tomorrow, her therapist will be mad at her. Not really, but it’ll feel like she’s mad at her, and Sarah hates that. She stumbles on creaky muscles and pincushion legs to the bathroom to pick up yesterday’s clothes instead of trying to unpack anything new. That’s too much for her right now. Sarah pulls on the sweatpants and tank top, kicks at her dirty bandage with a distasteful expression. She should get a trash can at some point, probably. And a toothbrush. She runs her tongue along her teeth and winces, knowing her breath can’t be great. But if she goes to the store, she won’t have the energy to visit the neighbors, and visiting them is probably what her therapist wants her to do. So she should probably avoid breathing too closely to any of them, she thinks as she searches for her shoes and shoves her feet into them. Broken glass is a bitch, and even if she hasn’t seen it here like she did in Chicago, she doesn’t want to take the chance.

Just like Maggie said, she goes to the house on the left. Unlike her own, with a pale blue exterior in need of a power washing, Maggie’s house is a soft cotton candy pink with white trimming and a quaintly sloped roof. All the windows are open, filling the air with the scent of fresh cut fruit and maple syrup, helped along on the sound of off-key singing in nonsense baby talk. It doesn’t sound like Maggie, so it must be her wife. Sarah likes the sound of that phrase- her wife. She could get used to a pair of words like that. Paint them across her bedroom wall and stitch it onto embroidered pillows. It would be a good excuse to learn embroidery.

She almost doesn’t knock on the front door. Her hand moves without permission, though, drawn into the feeling of home that clouds the front step and the little herb garden beneath one of the windows and the toys clumped in one corner of the yard. The wood is solid, real beneath her fist when she knocks. 

“One minute!”

The singing stops, and in the time between knocking and the door opening, Sarah thinks long and hard about just going back home. It’d be easier, for one thing. But she should do this, no matter how hard. Right as the doorknob twists, she slaps her hand over her forearm protectively. She should’ve put on a jacket, or a long sleeved shirt.

Maggie’s wife already has a smile on her face when she opens the door, dressed comfortably in pajama pants and a loose tee shirt, a towel thrown over her shoulder, and caramel hair tied out of her face. She’s pretty the way millenium old forests are pretty. There are kind lines by her eyes, freckles where her skin is bare, and a golden eight-pointed star resting between her collarbones. She looks happy. She looks like what Sarah wants to be.

“You must be Sarah! Maggie told me you might come by,” she says, and steps out of the doorway to gesture inwards. “I’m Olivia, and this-” she points at a high chair containing a strawberry-stained toddler as Sarah comes in, “-is our son Noah.”

“Hi, Noah.”

Olivia walks back to the kitchen, in the same place as Sarah’s but much more homely, with a fruit basket on the breakfast bar, food in the middle of being prepared, and a few scribbled drawings pinned to the fridge by brightly colored magnets. Her sock-covered feet slide a little but she doesn’t slip.

“Sit down, I’ll get you a plate.”

“I don’t need-”

One of Olivia’s hands wave dismissively and she grabs two pancakes from a stack next to the fruit, depositing them on a little blue plate and setting it in front of Sarah, followed by a fork and a container of maple syrup. Noah decides at that moment to make an unhappy sound, kick his feet, and point at Sarah’s pancakes.

“You already had yours, sweet boy. Coffee?”

“That sounds nice, thank you.”

“Cream or sugar?”

“No thanks.”

A steaming mug, chipped along the rim, settles in front of Sarah in the blink of an eye. She lets herself just smell it, clear her of everything else for a moment before she thinks about eating the admittedly fluffy pancakes in front of her. Everything smells good in here. The air is warmer. There’s chaos, but it’s a good kind of chaos that she wishes she could cultivate for herself someday. As she watches and stabs at her breakfast half-heartedly, Olivia finishes cutting fruit and dumps some onto Noah’s highchair tray, some into a tupperware container, and some into a bowl which she leaves within Sarah’s reach in a silent but much appreciated gesture. 

Then she takes a seat herself and uses her fork to tear into a pancake. “You just moved in yesterday?”

“Yeah, from uh, from Chicago.”

It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth, either.

“Mmm. Long way to come but I get it. It’s peaceful here,” Olivia muses. She has a little smile on her face. “Mag’s from Chicago, I’m from New York. She came for a conference I spoke at, and we hit it off. The rest is history.”

“Nnnn,” Noah adds, pointing at Sarah’s food again and making a whiny sound.

Sarah gives him a small piece to placate him, and when he smiles, she can’t help smiling back. He’s a happy looking kid. She doesn’t remember if she was, and no one has ever told her. 

“If you need help unpacking or getting essentials, need to find anything in town, or just want a friend, we’ve got you. At least one of us is usually home, and I can give you our numbers, if you want them. I know how lonely a new place can feel.”

“Thanks, I… I really appreciate that.”

Olivia just smiles at her, and a moment later, stands upright in a bit of a rush like she’s forgotten something. She dashes from the room, leaving Sarah alone with Noah, who holds a hand out for another piece of pancake she can’t resist giving him. She probably shouldn’t feed someone else’s baby, but it makes him happy. Children- babies- are so simple. Little things bring them so much joy. They don’t know what anything except happiness feels like.

The loud thunk of books on the counter stirs Sarah from her thoughts and gets her focus on the three thick spines in front of her. One is an encyclopedia of some sort, one is on the types of fish off the Northern California coast, and the third just has little shells hot glued to the spine instead of a title.

“I think you’d like these.” Olivia traces her fingers over the cover of the top book. “Just for looking at, if you want. You can take them home with you, or leave them here and come see whenever you want- I wouldn’t mind the company. It’s a good way to get acquainted with the area.”

Sarah takes the encyclopedia- old with yellowing pages, a white crease in the spine and smudges to the lettering of the front cover, clearly loved- and realizes it’s about urban legends. A bright pink sticky note emerges from the center, new and unworn. It must’ve been placed there recently. 

“That’s the part that I think is most relevant for this town is marked. The fish book is just- it’s just a good look through. And the album is uh, it’s sentimental. So be gentle with it.”

“I will. I promise.”

The smile Olivia gives her is blinding. Pure joy, excitement. It’s not like the way he smiled at Sarah before his hand cupped the back of her neck, but rather that of someone who has nothing but love to give. For the first time in a while, Sarah is almost excited. She wants to look at these books. She wants to connect. 

“You’re welcome to hang around a bit if you want. I’ll just be hanging around the house for a bit, but I’ve got a study at four- Maggie should be home by then. We’re gonna eat at around eight, if you wanna join us.”

“Thanks but I think-” she thinks it’s too much in one day. Too much energy she doesn’t have. “I think I better head home for a bit. I’ll see you later?”

“Of course.”

Olivia hugs her briefly but tightly, and wishes her a good day as Sarah carries the three books back home and sets them on the floor next to her towel. The couch is uncomfortable. Wrong. Not hers. She opens the encyclopedia first, turning to the marked section, and just stares at it for a good ten minutes. There’s a lot of text, small and dense and too much for her to process, but the picture included is mesmerizing. It’s of a woman with dark grey skin and long black hair, her lips pouting and eyes slitted like a cat’s. But it’s not a woman. It’s a mermaid, her torso melting into scales that look to have been hand painted into the book but obviously haven’t been. 

“Mermaids,” she tells the book.

The book says nothing back.

She doesn’t have it in her to read and sets aside the encyclopedia, skips over the fish book, and opens the album. In glittery capital letters, it reads “AVA” on the first page above a picture of a much younger Olivia sitting in the shallows of the ocean with a blonde little girl, smiling with gap teeth at something just above the camera. Maggie probably took the photo. Sarah slips her fingers beneath the page and turns it to reveal more photos, tucked into the stiff plastic sleeves. They’re all of the same little girl, but it becomes quickly apparent that she isn’t a little girl. Where she should have legs, her waist lengthens and trails into bright blue and gold scales. Most of the photos are similar; the girl- Ava, if Sarah had to guess- frolics in the waves, often with Olivia and/or Maggie. There’s an image of her presenting cupped hands full of pearls to the camera with an innocent smile. As the photos go on, she gets older. The photos seem to have more time between them.

Three quarters of the way through the album, there are no more photos, and the last one is dated two years ago. Ava looks to be in her early twenties, smiling and holding little black picture- an ultrasound. Sarah reads the caption on the back of the photo. 

"Baby brother on the way!"

After that, nothing. 

Sarah finds herself looking at the picture a bit longer, studying Ava's face. She's really pretty, with a stunning, genuine smile and wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes like the ocean. Her tan skin is dotted with moles, but instead of studying it, she slams the album shut. She's not supposed to look at women like that, naked women like that.

But then two words come back to her like a gift from God. Her wife. Maybe it's something she's allowed to have. Maybe. Sarah isn't ready to think about it either way and crawls over to the couch. It'll be more comfortable than the floor, she thinks, as she imagines what it might be like to meet Ava. Does she smile as much in real life? Is she more solemn? What does her laugh sound like? The photos stick to her memory even though she shouldn't think about them. 

[xxxsunnybabes]

Gold Pt. 1 Teaser

This was the beginning. This is where it all went wrong. When you asked yourself, Why did I do the things I did? There wasn’t a good reason. And you knew it. You knew it like a mother knows her child’s cries. Your reason? ‘Love’.

Word Count: 2,113

Warnings: Mentions of planes

Rating: T/M

Pairing: underground society!OT7 x Fem! Reader

Summery: You had to go back to your hometown in South Korea due to your paternal grandmother falling ill. What you didn't know was that a childhood friend had joined a mafia and was looking for someone - you.

@kelly96q @the-spanishinquisition @dreamingmavis @superheros-and-others @xsmilebitesx @mariacorbi @leftflowerprunedonut @sweetbts1dcami

A/N: This happens before the pt. 0. COMPLETED VERSION

Thursday, December 22

You rolled off the edge your bed, hissing as your cheek connected with the cool marble floor. The sleek black marble bureau was your support as you picked yourself up off the floor.

Looking into your silver framed mirror you messed with your hair; pulling and parting it this way and that. You wiggled into your jeans up to your hips and yanked an old flannel over your head.

You looked down at your clothes and gave little tugs in areas to be comfier.

This was good, you weren’t doing anything fancy today.

Hopefully.

The bed cushioned your jump as you rolled to your nightstand. You picked up your phone to see if there were any notifications. Cross your fingers, Tumblr. There was this fanfic writer that you adored that was updating today.

And you.

Need.

Fluff.

You breathe it.

But of course, your battery percentage had to crush your tiny fangirl sole. You had forgotten to plug it in overnight... again.

“What’s done is done,” you sighed and grabbed your computer and its charger instead. The stairs’ rich maple finish looked like dark chocolate and the mocha carpet was like caramel. The rails twisted together like licorice. You hummed quietly as a stronger gust of wind caused the cotton candy blue shades to rattle slightly. The light oozed through the windows surrounding the eight ft. tall door.

You made a small squeak as an especially creaky step right at the bottom caught you off guard.

Your noise snapped you out of your trance and now everything felt like too much. The tile was bitterly cold and felt like icicles under your feet. As you walked into the living room you reached for the curtains since the morning light was now blinding. A short grunt stopped you and you turned to see your father on the twin white velvet couches. The island, which was stocked with cereals and canned goods, had been hiding him from view.

He had his eyes closed and his face forced into a scowl facing the ceiling. You immediately noticed the phone next to his ear and the way he seemed to grow more tense with each passing minute.

You two had the same habits. You both ground your teeth when you were aggravated. When nervous, you would scratch your nose. When you lied, you pinched your clothes; him at his pants and you at your shoulders. Your grew to understand people in ways no one else could when you were all they could rely on.

So when you can’t read him, like right now, your heart twisted in your chest and you just knew something was wrong.

You crawl onto the couch next to your father. Knowing better than to interrupt him you decided to listen quietly. Listen, not eavesdrop, there’s a difference.

You caught snippets of the conversation on the other side. Although not enough to piece together what was going on since the other side’s volume matched a heart monitor, high low, high low, then low, low, low.

Your dad’s mask was started to fade and it was clearer what he was feeling. His eyes were shut so tightly you were afraid he wouldn’t be able to open them again.

‘She...Hometown...South Korea...Needs to come….’ was all you could really hear on the other side. Your dad asked, ‘Why her? Couldn’t I go? Or one of her cousins?’ You could almost hear the other side shake their head, ‘No, they requested her...can’t refuse...end like...mother…’ Who was ‘they?

Clearly, your dad knew because he said, ‘But she still has her studies. They have no right to order us. They took so much already.’ The other person sighed, ‘I know, I know. But we can’t refuse them, you know that.’

Then, as suddenly as a tsunami would return to the sea, the phone call ended. Dad hadn’t even said goodbye before he hung up. He threw his phone on the circular glass coffee table at his feet.

He looked over at your confused expression and chuckled, “Did you fall off the bed again?”

He was trying to not mention that discussion.

“You shouldn’t be so amused by that, Dad. Whose bright idea was it to put the marble in a bedroom anyway?“

He raised his hand apologetically and mumbled something about how he never expected the guest room to be lived in.

You were so eager to find out what was going on that you felt like you would burst.

“Who’s going to South Korea?” you began since that’s the information you had heard clearlest.

“You are, your grandmother is,” he licked his lips nervously, buying time, “sick.vxf”

That’s not what you heard.

“Ok, but why do I have to go?” You rubbed your temple while rolling off the couch and into the open kitchen. You grabbed your favorite mug from the cabinet. It was massive, both tall and wide and said ‘The world is ending but don’t worry, you were a great friend and a better shield.’

He took a long gulp from his coffee like he was wondering if he should tell you the real reason, “She personally requested you.”

Why was he lying? He’s a terrible liar and shouldn’t even be trying.

He watched in amazement as you almost spilled the coffee all over you. You muttered a slow ‘shit’ while wiping it off the oriental rug.

After about three minutes of patting it and wiping you threw the towel on the sink in defeat, there was no way you could get the stain completely out.

You knew there wasn’t any way you could get out of this.

“I’ll go pack.”

He gave you a salute with a cocky smirk that made you want to sit on the couch and not move until someone made you. But you didn’t. He was stressed enough as it is.

You listened to ‘Hope World’ as you packed. From what you remember Seoul was extremely rainy, but isn’t too bad in December. You hadn’t brought much with you to your dad’s house and would have to stop by your dorm room before the plane trip this weekend. You zipped what you had into your suitcase with a groan.

Why couldn’t you have one normal winter break? You could almost hear your mother saying, ‘That’s life, Y/N.’

You smiled lightly. Her words could be so harsh but were normally true. A hand clenched your heart, it was comforting and suffocating at the same time. Bittersweet in its definition.

You missed her so much. You missed your fights or when you would fangirl together. But no one was right. No one could replace her. It was cheesy, but she always loved cheese, especially Swiss.

You heaved the bag downstairs and waited for your dad to finish his errands. You had to pry the new door open due to its lack of use.

If there was one thing you wouldn’t miss about here is all the dust. This house was like a pair of mismatched socks. New, old. Dirty, clean. Gross, pretty. But it would always be your ‘candy house’, sweet as home memories.

Sunday, December 27

The car ride was dreadful. Absolutely, positively, dreadful.

You and your dad had tried making small talk since you wouldn’t see each other for a while, but it wound up being awkward and forced.

“Dad, just stop. Please,” you chuckled, but it was tight.

He scrunched his nose up and real laughter bubbled up your throat. If this was a movie it would’ve been a perfect, rehearsed laugh. But who needed that when your laugh was the most natural and beautiful one to the people that knew you?

“Sorry, it’s just,” His voice trailed off at the end.

Your throat felt dry and your eyes were watery. Dust. Just dust, right? Your hand found your dad’s and you gave it a small but tight squeeze, “I know, I wanted to spend more time with you too.”

He took your hand and kissed it lightly before he stepped out of his car door and onto the asphalt. You finished your bottle of water before collecting your stuff and stepping out too.

He swiped his eyes and nose quickly but you still saw the tears.

“It feels like when I first dropped you off at college all over again,” he sniffed.

You pulled him into a tight hug but let go before you both got right back in that car and went home.

“I’ll see you a couple months, Dad,” You pat his shoulder reassuringly, for both of you, “I have to go now, love you.

You two weren’t one to say ‘I love you’, but you had this feeling in your gut like it might be the last time.

You rolled your two small suitcases into the airport and waited in line before you could look back.

Thankfully, you had picked Sunday for your departure day so there weren’t too many people. You stared at the clock and tapped your foot to Fake Love. You thought about how stressful this trip was going to be. You would have to find a new college, take care of your grandmother, brush up on your Korean, get used to Korean culture in general, find at least two jobs, and god only knows how many house projects… You left out a long heavy breath, thinking about the negatives only made you depressed so you stopped yourself.

The man weighing the bags cleared his throat and you realized that it was your turn. You placed each suitcase on the weigher and started humming Fake Love. The man raised his brow at you and it was then that you realized he had been staring at you.

Your eyes connected and it was like a light flickered on, but couldn’t stay on, in your head. He felt so- familiar. The long face, thin and pointy eyes that were always observing, the sharp nose and jawline, and even though his legs were hidden behind the counter you knew they were long and muscular. Where had you seen him before?

“Ma’am? Your bags are all good, excellent packing by the way,” and it was his voice that made it almost click.

“I’m sorry, but have I met you before?” you couldn’t stop yourself and maybe it was his lips, but they looked so honest and friendly.

His eyes darkened slightly, “I don’t believe so,” his face than twisted into a panty-dropping smile, “I would remember you.”

You tried not to blush, you were a grown ass woman for God’s sakes, "My mistake then.”

You didn’t really process the rest of the trip. You just went through the motions and somehow managed not to get lost in your daze. Everytime your mind returned to his face you couldn’t stop the heat that pooled between your legs. It was so weird and uncalled for; you had never reacted to anyone that way before.

Before you knew it, you were in your seat with your earbuds playing your favorite podcast. Someone sat next to you and you nearly jumped out of your seat. Get a hold of yourself, Y/N! You looked at them again and you nearly jumped again. It was him.

“Didn’t I just see you?”

He looked genuinely confused but there was an amused glint hiding in his eyes, “I’m sorry?”

“Didn’t you weigh my bags?” You were beginning to become frustrated, were you just bad with faces?

He shook his head and said that he was just another passenger. He pulled out a worn out journal and began to write in Korean. Your Korean was still rusty but from what you could make out they were lyrics. Lyrics, the word filled your head like a clue.

“Hoseok,” you didn’t know why, but that name filled your head.

His head snapped up and looked at you. His eyes were amber and filled with longing, he looked like a predator eyeing his prey.

You knew him, but from where? You figured it would come to you later, like the name did.

All you could do right now was sleep; so you wrapped the airport’s blanket around you and gazed out the window. It was nighttime already. You changed your playlist and turned the music to a comfortable volume before rubbing your head against the seat and drifting, drifting, drifting to sleep.