#songs to stare at nature with wonder and joy

[i-luvsang]

do i get to know your name? — kim chaewon

pairing : idol!chaewon x fan!gn!reader ➖⟢ genres : fluff, idol!au ➖⟢ cw : nothing, i think!➖⟢ wc : 1K

chaewon falls a little bit in love with a lot of her fans. they’re all so pretty, so sweet as they grin and cheer her on. but god, the second she makes eye contact with you, with your eyes turned up and a smile so genuine and joyful that it lights your face up in a way she’s never seen before, it’s over for her. she sends you a wave and a wink, more than satisfied by your wild reaction as you scream in joy.

all night long, she pays special attention to you, always drifting back to you to point at you, pick up your phone and wave to it, even blow you kisses and send you hearts with her pretty hands. all while staring right at you, she talks into her mic about "how pretty our fearnots are." 

you think you must be going crazy. there's no way she'd pay all that close attention to you, right? you wonder if she always does this for other fans, but you can't help but deliver a happy reaction each time she does something that seems like it's just for you. she winks, and you wink back, making her grin even wider than before. she loves that she can make you shy in an instant, but that you’re willing to flirt back too.

she notices how kindly you act towards the other fans around you, and it hits her that she just needs to know you. chaewon can’t quite place it, but there’s something about you that has her thinking about you as she performs a song or the moment she walks in another direction to greet other fans.

after the concert, by some miracle, she manages to convince the staff to find you, and they actually do. you’re eternally confused when they invite you backstage, thinking it must be a joke or wondering if you did something horribly wrong to get in some sort of massive trouble.

they stick you in a random room and ask you to wait just a few minutes, brushing off your questions due to how busy they are. nervously, you pick at the hem of your shirt, the adrenaline from the concert still coursing through your veins, making it difficult for your brain to differentiate between the nervousness due to your unknown situation and the excitement of the rest of the night. to distract yourself, you pull out your phone, pulling up the video of chaewon grabbing it and posing for your camera. you giggle helplessly when she blows a kiss to the camera, then hands it back to you with a flirty smile that could have you melting right then and there.

you barely catch the sound of the door opening over the sounds of the screams coming from your phone. you quickly shut it off and set it down, hoping no one catches you in such a state. the device nearly tumbles straight to the floor when you look up to who opened the door.

you fumble for words, but she doesn’t let you flounder for too long before speaking.

“hi,” she grins, “sorry to keep you waiting, i just had to make sure i caught you before you left.”

her words don’t help you make sense of things at all, because it’s chaewon herself standing right in front of you.

“well, i mean, i-it’s okay! no worries, i’m so you’re so busy and exhausted right now and– yeah. um. did you, uh– need something from me?” mentally, you’re slapping your palm to your forehead. could i sound any stupider, you berate yourself in your head, still infinitely confused.

she can’t help but laugh softly, sweet and good-natured, at your flustered stake given how endearing she finds it. she always thinks it’s cute when her fans get nervous around her, but again, god, you’re just something different. with you, she just feels all the adoration tenfold when she looks at you, and she realizes that maybe love at first sight is real.

the smile she gives you is so sweet you really think you’re in true danger of melting this time. “well, you really caught my eye, i guess.” suddenly she’s feeling a little shy, too, realizing she’s never done anything like this before. but she pushes through it, easily back to her flirty and cute self. “and i couldn’t just let you disappear on me. you’re too cute for that.”

your eyes widen. you feel as though you must be hallucinating. “i– really?” is all you manage to say.

“really,” she confirms. “i know this is unconventional, and you don’t have to say yes to anything if you just want to stay my fan, but i’d really like to get to know you. if you want, let’s start with your name.” she grins, eager to hear your name so she can let it fall off her own lips.

“i’m– i mean, i would love that, i just– are you sure? i mean– that’s great, i’m just– just a bit– i don’t know, confused, i guess? this just … kind of doesn’t feel real,” you let out a disbelieving laugh, mostly at this whole situation and partially at how little sense you probably just made. and despite your last few words about this feeling fake, an uncontrollable grin tugs at your lips.

“i’m definitely sure,” she smiles right back at you. “and like i said, i know this is out of the norm, i get it not feeling quite real, even i’m a little confused right now, but truly, i just couldn’t get you out of my head since the moment we met eyes and i know that sounds super strange, but i’d really like to know more about you.

you let out another flustered laugh, but her words and the sincerity of her tone finally begin to sink in. “i’d really like that, too.”

she looks at you expectantly, like you’ve forgotten something. you raise your eyebrows questioningly, wondering what she’s looking for.

“so, do i get to know your name?”

[wordsinhaled]

the thing about crowley’s confession is… he must have thought about it in the bit of time he had before doing it. i mean... he went and sat outside marguerite’s with his wine, and thought. he thought very hard about how there was a threat—a sleeper—a ticking time bomb in aziraphale’s bookshop that could explode at any moment, take away all their hard-won peace, their safety, their comfort.

but most importantly, a threat to aziraphale. gabriel had tried once to destroy aziraphale already, and only hadn’t because they'd swapped bodies. and crowley's clearly terrified that this time, what they're doing feels reckless, feels like playing with something far too important at stake. it's like... already knowing someone is so important to you—and then having the possibility that it could really be something dangled in front of you—and then knowing there's an existential threat to that potential? awful. horrifying. no wonder he can't find the words.

we know crowley is a romantic. we know how much joy it brings him to see other people fall in love. and... honestly... i'm not sure it’s that nina needed to spell the nature of his feelings out for him, exactly. crowley's known where he stands towards aziraphale for a long time if we're to judge him by his acts (which are always acts of service, care, and attention, which always speak louder than his words). so i don't think it was that, as much as just—the experience of being perceived by someone else, sort of jostling something for him.

because crowley's watched the romance films, hasn't he, he knows the exact tropes he's working with, but the idea that they could apply to him—to him and aziraphale? i don't think he considered that until it was offered to him as an option. and once it was, there was crowley's mind far exceeding the speed limit trying to wrap itself around all of this.

and so he must have looked at it, and all signs, all signs, were pointing to aziraphale being receptive.

crowley probably thought about all the times aziraphale had touched him in the last day alone. all the little glances and looks aziraphale had been giving him, which crowley surely hadn’t missed because he’s always staring right back. he probably thought about how aziraphale thinks the bentley is their car and the bookshop is their shop, about how aziraphale told him that he thought they’d carved a peaceful existence out for themselves. and after the ball, he probably thought about how aziraphale asked him to dance, at this event that was meant to get other people to fall in love, but aziraphale had wanted to dance with him.

so crowley most likely looked at all of this and thought he’s finally ready. he’s finally caught up. when i ask this time, he’s going to say yes. and he watched aziraphale so warily, too, after the realization, because there's a way that it feels, to be holding on to a truth so direly important and so terribly exciting and so very requited, as far as crowley can tell. it's like, am i holding myself differently now? can he tell? has he always been able to tell? am i about to muck it up? i'm about to muck it up. i muck everything up, but not this. not this. he's the center of my universe so it's worth it. and it's alright, even if i muck it up, because he's going to say yes. dear god: i'd only ask if it was important.

and so he queued up their song in the bentley and he talked to muriel like they’re a them, like they’re going to be a couple, a couple who needs us time. he gave himself the luxury of imagining it, of planning it all out in his mind—how everyone was going to finally leave off pulling them toward some greater purpose and just let the two of them be together, and aziraphale was going to at last let crowley be to him what he’s always wanted to be—what he’s been being already, evidently, to the point where strangers on the street ask how long they’ve been together.

and then in the end, to be rejected like that. to be rejected even while the love is pouring off aziraphale in anguished waves—and if he loves me too, then why won't he say yes? to be rejected and to know this isn't how it's supposed to go, even though it's the way it's always gone. crowley always asks and aziraphale always says no. somehow, this time was supposed to be different. he'd dared to hope properly. and how had he misjudged it so terribly this time? how much of it had been wishful thinking? and he had to have felt aziraphale's hands grasping at his shoulders, had to have felt the start of a kiss returned, and thought that maybe there was a spark of hope yet.

but there wasn't.

because nothing lasts forever. apparently.

[justmediocrewriting]

Oh hello!! I read your koby writing and loved it!! You have a talent for writing 🩷 I was wondering if you could do a zoro x mermaid!reader who tries to lure them with a siren song but it only works on men so nami and robin fight back but not before reader can get her hands on zoro and steal him away! Maybe some steamy scenes back at her home/cave or something 😏😏

Lost In The Siren’s Song {r.z}

Summary: every creature has to eat. It’s the law of nature — and some creatures don’t have the most humane diets. You were more than aware of this, and even though you weren’t proud of what you had to do, you also knew it was a necessity, albeit one that was hard for you to stand — but it was made a bit more endurable when your prey was this alluring.

Genre: fantasy, smut, please do not read if you are not 18+!

Pairing: Zoro x fem!siren!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Requested: ✅

Warnings: sexual content (fairly explicit), non-con elements, language, themes of violence and/or gore, please let me know if you noticed any that I missed

A/n: before diving into this, I first want to say thank you so much for this request nonnie! It was such a pleasure (wink wink) to write, and I’ve never actually written anything in a prospect of a creature that isn’t human, and the fantasy element was definitely a joy to indulge in! Also, in folklore, sirens are creatures that lure men, so in my mind (and for the ease of this fic), I decided that sirens as a species feed on the desire of human men (much like a succubus), and therefore do not need to kill men after feeding (most do, however). I did have the OPLA!Zoro in mind when writing this, but I tried to write the story in a way in which you can imagine it as his anime counterpart instead. I really had fun tweaking this around and creating the world for it, so again, thank you so much! I hope everyone can enjoy this ❤️❤️

{=================================}

You’d never before had a victim that was so receptive.

The swordsman was panting, soaked trousers clinging to the shape of his tenting dick, his tan skin flushed so prettily and pupils blown wide as he stared at you with something akin to reverence; it was truly a sight, and the lust pouring from his pores and seeping into yours was the warmest and most satiating you’d ever had.

The man’s expression wasn’t exactly one that you hadn’t seen before — nearly every man you’d lured to your cave wore the same one when under the entrancement of your voice, but somehow, the expression was just breathtaking on this man’s face, and it had your skin flaming in ways you’d never experienced before. Perhaps it was due to him being quite possibly the most attractive mortal you’d ever captured — his cropped green hair accentuated his tan skin, and his shoulders and chest were broad, leading down to slim but well muscled abdomen. The rather large cock standing straight at attention in his trousers was just a bonus.

You swallowed thickly as arousal stirred in your gut, the sensation throwing you slightly off-kilter; you’d fed many times, but that’s all it had ever been to you: feeding. A simple necessity for your survival, and one that you found rather unpleasant. Luring men from ships and dragging them all the way to your den (and the subsequent act of touching them to draw out the most lust you could) wasn’t the easiest thing, and this catch was much harder to retrieve, given that the swordsman’s crew had two women on board, which was not something you encountered often — being as they were resistant to your voice, it was difficult to snatch the man, but somehow you had managed and returned to your cave with minor wounds, just a few scratches and bruises to lick later.

“I won’t kill you,” you assured the man. Even though you knew he wouldn’t be able to truly decipher your words in his current state, nor would he feel anything other than burning need, you always made sure to promise your victims that their lives were not forfeit by you; unlike most of your kind, you knew that killing off the prey was not a necessity, so you didn’t indulge in it. The man simply blinked at you, eyes hazy and unfocused and swirling with arousal, never moving from your figure. Even as hazy and unfocused as they were, they practically seemed to pierce through you, and the onyx hue was entrancing in a way that you’d never seen a mortal possess.

Your hand twitched with the sudden urge to feel him, to roam over his body and pull the clothes off of his skin, and so you did — your scales were long gone by now, replaced instead by smooth, soft legs, which you used to shuffle yourself closer to the man. It was a little known fact about sirens, that you were not, in fact, stuck in one form; it changed, and after enough exposure to dry air you could easily pass as a human.

The swordsman sucked in a sharp breath when your fingers danced along his collar bone, and his hips thrust wildly into the air, a groan slipping past his lips as his hardened member grazed against the confines of his wet trousers. You felt a pang of sympathy for the man. Being under the effects of your song was akin to being under the effects of powerful aphrodisiacs, and you had no doubt that the poor man was in a lot of pain from it — especially since he wouldn’t be able to touch you, not unless you gave him explicit command to.

“Do you want me to touch you?” You whispered into the swordsman’s ear, fingers still trailing along the jut of his collarbone and just barely dipping into the collar of his shirt, and from your close proximity to him, you felt more than saw his eager nodding. His breathy little pants and desperate hip undulations were really beginning to affect you, your cunt feeling extremely wet and hot, and you were taken aback by the sheer amount of desperate want you felt coursing through your veins.

You’d never before wanted your prey so carnally.

“I’ll make it better, as long as you keep wanting me.” You purred into the man’s ear, finding that you were the labored rise and fall of his breaths beneath your fingertips as you used one of your sharp nails to slice through the fabric of his shirt, careful not to damage the taut skin beneath. As your hand slithered further down his torso, the lust being pumped into the air gradually increased, and the man let out small, breathy whimpers and pleas under his breath that had your hips tingling.

“Shh,” you cooed, half because you wanted to comfort him and half because hearing his voice was doing things, and it felt too dangerous for you — there was a sinking wonderment in your gut of who was more entranced by who.

When your hand finally enclosed around the damp bulge of the man’s dick, many things happened simultaneously — the man’s hips arched up in a desperate thrust, a loud, guttural groan slipping past his lips, and you gasped when your entire body flooded with warmth as lust filled you nearly to bursting, lighting your nerves in a way that made you feel as if you were feeling what the man was.

“Please, please, need you — so beautiful, need you so bad.” The man’s voice was hoarse and broken, and it was the first real sentence he’d said, and his voice sounded so beautiful, so tantalizing, and the way his lips curved around each word filled you with a desire that you’d never had before — and you were but a helpless victim to it.

Electricity skirted across every inch of your skin when you pressed your lips against the man’s in a hungry kiss, swallowing every groan and pant and moan down like a beast starved. Goaded and fueled by the lust swirling under your skin — lust that you recognized as the man’s, and even more frighteningly, your own — you swung a leg over him and clambered atop his lap, settling your overheated core directly on the bulge of his dick. You couldn’t help the moan that the sensation pulled from your chest, and the man drank it down like the sweetest nectar, and his tongue plunged into your mouth, seeking your own.

The sensation of his wet tongue wrestling with yours completely wiped away any coherent thoughts your brain would have managed as the lust brimming within your body hit a spilling point, and you began to gyrate your hips at a rapid pace. The drag of your clit against the fabric of his trousers was rough but rich with friction, and the heat of his clothed cock seemed to radiate into your lower half completely. With how fogged your mind and body was, it didn’t even occur to you to wonder how the man had somehow broken from his frozen state without your command when his hands bruised your hips in a vice grip — all you could think was that it felt good, and your entire lower half exploded with harsh tingles when he took control over your movement, dragging you down harshly against his cock in time with his own desperate thrusts.

“So good, so fucking good — gonna explode, gonna fucking blow—” the man’s voice was harsh and ragged against your lips, his words somewhat hard to understand due to his reluctance to disengage his lips from the dance they were performing with yours, but they went straight to your core anyway, flushing your entire body with excitement and eagerness.

“Cum, cum, I want you to cum.” You moaned into his mouth, tongue licking into the crevice, and the man reciprocated your eagerness by removing his hands from your hips and instead wrapping them around your shoulders for a better grip — before you could fully prepare yourself, the man was bucking his hips with abandon, the friction against your clit fast and unrelenting, and you threw your head back with a moan. The swordsman took advantage of the access to your throat, and he began licking and biting the tender flesh, the ministrations adding more fuel to the fire within your belly.

There was a foreign tightening within your gut, something akin to a coil being wound, and it was something you’d never felt before — it was frightening but exhilarating, and though unfamiliar, you just knew that the snapping would lead to something amazing. So you allowed your body to relax and fall limp in the man’s hold, eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself fall into the sensations abusing your body.

“Fuck, so good, you feel so fucking good — so warm and soft, fuck—” with every hot word panted into the flesh of your neck that coil wound tighter, and with a few more harsh thrusts your vision exploded with white stars as your entire body clenched up, your clit bursting with pleasure and throbbing as an orgasm — your first ever — was pulled from your body. The swordsman was quick to follow, a liquid that was even hotter than his cock coating the front of trousers and seeping through to melt into your skin, and the groan he released into your jugular was so filthy that it was nearly enough to rip another orgasm from you.

Your legs were a trembling cage around his thigh, and as you sit recovering from what was probably the most amazingly intense experience of your life, you debated going against your long standing moral code and keeping the man in your lair forever.

[bloodandoranges]

“Dear god, please help me.”

Astarion/Tav (depictions of Astarion’s past and trauma, may be a bit confronting! I tried my best to keep it somewhat lighter but it’s…kind of impossible / no mentions of tavs gender / vague mentions of his former victims / angst / 18+ / happy ending with Tav)

song inspiration

I am walking through Rome,

with my heart on a string.

The streets of Baldurs Gate were no stranger to Astarion; he’d sauntered it countless times in his life, walked these streets nearly every day. But now, stalking like a fox in the dark through the dimly lit streets? He hardly knew where he was going.

He’d only awoken days beforehand, and here he was, on the prowl… Cazador, his master, had given the order to hunt; never to take more than their bodies, not a single drop of their blood…only their hearts.

Dear god, please help me.

She was such a sweet girl; he was her first. She’d laughed and sang to him, and tangled her fingers tightly into his hair as ran his mouth over her sweet soft body.

He was a little harder to woo, strong and stoic and quiet… but he became bashful after sweet whispers and a hand over his thigh. Astarion had him in his bed moments later, crying out his name.

I am so very tired

Of doing the right thing.

He had everything planned out almost down to the second, every single touch, every sweet words, every cry of false ecstasy. He became a master at his game. Despite the disgust he felt, the ache of autonomy no longer his? The nights spent in a sweet embrace of someone he didn’t care for far surpassed those in the dungeons, the nights the smelled of foul blood, of cracked and bloodied nails.

Dear god,

Please help me.

There are explosive kegs

between my legs.

There was no joy to be found in sex anymore. It was as monotonous and as natural to him as breathing was; he hardly even gained any temporary bliss from it. He existed to please - never to be pleased. He didn’t dare indulge in a thing.

Except this once; one darling he could not find it in himself to kill.

The adrenaline wore off within the first few days. His hands were bloody, nails cracked and torn. He wished and prayed for freedom for the first tenday, and the next? He prayed for death.

When the lid of the coffin was finally removed, after a year of pure agony? Even the dim light of candles burned his eyes as his frail body was dragged from his tomb.

He wondered how anyone could believe in the gods. How anyone could pray to them and believe their prayers would be answered; or even heard. How could benevolence even exist in such a world?

Dear God,

Please help me.

Will you follow and know?

Know me more

Than you do

Track me down

And try to win me?

The first time he laid eye on you he’d felt a spark; though he jotted that down to his new cerebral neighbour. Of course, you were just too good to pass up - the leader of this merry little band of misfits? He had to have you wrapped around his fingers; the only way he knew how.

Soft touches, kind words… promises he couldn’t keep.

Then he motions to me,

With his hand on my knee

Dear god,

did this kind of thing happen to you?

The nightmare had rattled him to his core. He stood over you, staring for what felt like hours before he made his move. And of course? You had to wake up.

After a heated discussion, you gave yourself to him…and as he drank greedily from you; it was cemented in his mind that was truly free …and that he owed a great deal to you.

He sauntered off into the night, sated, feeling more in control than he had in 200 years. And with that? He felt his resolve slip; he didn’t need to worry about manipulating you anymore. He had the ball in his court, so to speak.

And yet, as he hunted? You were all he could think about.

Now I’m spreading your legs,

With mine

In between

Dear god, if I could

I would help you,

In the all too familiar graveyard of Baldurs Gate, he draws you close, breath cool on your warm flushed skin — hands exploring your warm, soft body. You’d given him everything; or atleast given him the tools and the strength and the /love/ to get this far. He owed it all to you.

As he presses you back, he whispers sweet nothings, soft ‘I love you’s’, his hands taking the time to explore…eager to make you cry out for him, but even more eager to relearn your body. Eager to enjoy your pleasure, eager to enjoy his /own/.

Now I am walking through Rome

And there is no room to breath

But the heart

Feels free

Astarion cowered behind the shade of a few shipping boxes, grateful he had a robe to shield himself. He gave a choked sob just as you arrive, scrambling over to shield him further. He felt like everything had been stolen from him again, and yet, when you spoke?

“It’s okay. I’m here. We’ll figure something out.” You whispered as you cup his face, and suddenly, he felt his worries drift away. He trusted you completely; if you said you’d figure something out? He had to believe it.

As you cradled him, soft sobs wracking his body? He realized that he was finally, truly free. He’d find his own sun. Perhaps he already had.

[stinkysam]

Monkey D. Luffy - Dancer

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : "Opla Luffy x male reader who’s a dancer and incorporates it into his fighting style, reader is a bit taller than luffy and also wears rlly flowwy/ loose clothes" - anon

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

Luffy found you cool as soon as he saw you fighting. Not that he didn't find you cool before. But that really escalated when he saw you in action.

He couldn't help but jump in place, his body moving as if to imitate you. He's absolutely mesmerized by your movements and how your clothes move.

Luffy absolutely loves what you're wearing and often steals them. He likes loose clothing too. Though he prefers when you're the one wearing it because you look much cooler.

It looks like waves as you dance. Like you're the wind playing with the seas, throwing the unwanted pirates or marines with a powerful blow.

He really can't stop looking at you. You're so majestic. You're moving so gracefully. Makes him wonder if he can move like that too. He might even try to imitate you as he fights, which looks quite different than you. 

While your dancing is more elegant and controlled, his is like he's constantly exploding, like he cannot contain himself. Even if it's ballet.

He likes dancing with you, without the fighting. Your dancing styles are not complimentary at all. One always radiates joy and happiness, pure chaos and deranged while the other expresses various emotions with ease and elegance.

Luffy truly believes he's good at dancing and will want to teach you how to dance like him. In a sense he can, it teaches you to let go of the rules you've learnt and followed, to dance more freely and heartfully.

He likes to sing too, so he'll definitely sing random stuff for you to dance on it. Even if it's dumb songs, which happens quite often.

It's not a secret he finds you and your technique really cool and he's really proud of you for finding yourself. He can't wait to see you evolve through the adventures you're gonna live.

He wonders what music you have in mind when you fight. He definitely wants to listen to it too. 

He's really confused if it's a peaceful and calm song. How do you get the funny silly vibes from it ? How do you get your cells to vibrate to such a calm song ? But… whatever floats your boat, he supposes !? Hah ! You're such a weirdo sometimes !

If you don't listen to music at all when fighting he's a bit perplexed and even more confused by you. How can you move like that without the sound of music ? You're doing a whole choreography out there and the only music in your ears is the sound of your enemies dropping on the ground ?

If you tell him that he'll stare at you before laughing. You're really really weird and funny ! That's why he likes you.

But if you do listen to an energetic song, he might hum it from time to time as he's reminiscing about your fights. He's not the kind of person to have songs in his head when he fights, he's fully focused on his opponents and how to win. The only time his chaotic thinking is somewhat tuned down.

He doesn't mind that you're taller than him. In fact, you're just tall enough for him to stand right under your chin, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.

He likes that. He doesn't care that he has to look up to look you in the eyes, a lot of people are taller than him, that's just how it is.

You can't tease him about his size because he'll just… stretch his neck to make himself taller. It's quite scary to watch him pull his head upward, straining a bit as he does so before it finally stretches naturally, his neck the length of his arm.

[st-kitten]

"gasolina"

MIGUEL O'HARA x LATIN READER warnings: fun, lap dance, miles' mother (and her empanadas) words: 1,313

The Spider Society is dragged to Miles' party. Everyone is thrilled except for Miguel. That is until he sees you... dancing in the crowd.

As the doors to Miles' rooftop swung open, a burst of vibrant energy filled the air, engulfing the senses in a whirlwind of colour, music, and laughter. The venue radiated with a palpable sense of joy, the unmistakable hallmark of Latino celebrations. A captivating mix of Latin rhythms, from salsa to merengue, filled the room, setting a lively beat that invited everyone to dance.

Strings of papel picado fluttered overhead, casting a vibrant kaleidoscope of colours and patterns on the walls. Colourful piñatas dangled from the ceiling, promising sweet surprises to be unleashed later in the night. Tables draped in bright linens showcased an array of mouthwatering dishes, bursting with flavours that embodied the rich tapestry of Latin cuisine. Miles mother endorsed her empanadas to everyone, while his father gravitated toward his fellow officers, throwing cheers around.

"Ay! You guys came!" he chirped excitedly. He rushed to Gwen, in an attempt to give her a hug, but ended up performing an awkward handshake-turned-pat on the back. Pavitr and Hobie cackled in the background. Mayday sat atop Peter's shoulders and tried to touch the strings above. Everyone was in casual attire and didn't have to worry about putting any masks on. Pavitr could thus invite Gayatri, who wondered why he had these many diverse friends. Behind everyone, at the back of the group, Miguel stood still, eyeing his surroundings, already regretting showing up. It was on Peter's insistence that he agreed to come. But, mostly because Lyla RSVPd on his behalf without telling him.

"Nice, no? Loosen up, buddy!" Peter nudged his shoulder. Miguel chucked and excused himself.

He found himself leaning against a pole near Río's empanada table. Unbeknownst to him, partially because of his social anxiety, he'd managed to eat a handful of empanadas. Miles' mother was more than happy to keep adding on his plate, one after the other.

He watched people. It seemed like it was the only reasonable thing to do. Guests swirled across the dance floor, their movements a rhythmic fusion of traditional steps and spontaneous improvisations. The air resonated with infectious laughter and animated conversations, as friends and family came together to celebrate, their voices rising above the music, each word infused with warmth and passion.

Miguel's gaze fell on a woman dancing amidst the crowd. Yes, there were several girls and women at the party, but none that effortless.

You glided across the dance floor with a playful elegance, your movements a mesmerising fusion of confidence, grace, and just enough madness. Your body moved like liquid, flowing seamlessly from one intricate dance move to the next. The song accentuated the mischief, but the way you enjoyed dancing made Miguel stare at you, barely blinking. There you were, swaying and moving to the infectious rhythm, effortlessly owning the dance floor. Your enjoyment was contagious, and he couldn't help but be captivated by your carefree spirit. You had this way of making every step look natural and effortless, as if you and the music were old pals.

He couldn't take his eyes off you, completely drawn to the unfiltered delight you exuded with each and every move. It was like you were in her own world, dancing without a care, and inviting everyone around to join your groove.

For a brief moment, your eyes met, and he could see the mischievous spark in your gaze. He quickly looked away, but from the corner of his eye, he saw you walking towards him. Miguel didn't know what to do. He shoved an empanada in his mouth.

You sauntered next to him, greeting Río. "Hola! Por qué no estás bailando?" (why aren't you dancing?)

"Ay, no, hoy no. Probaste una empanada?" Rio asked you to try her empanadas, handing her a plate. You dipped the tip of it in the spicy dip and took a bite, humming in response.

"Ay, delicioso!" 'Verdad? I told Miles I make them good."

The spicy dip made your lips redder and plumper. You licked your lips, tasting it once more. Miguel, half an empanada masticated in his mouth, was truly ogling at you. You were radiant, not to mention gorgeous. A part of him wanted to see you dance more.

It was when Daddy Yankee's "Gasolina" started playing that things really kicked into high gear.

"Ay, esta es tu canción! Baila!" Río exclaimed. (this is your song! dance!)

You smirked, ready to hit the dance floor again and threw a glance at Miguel. You pranced toward the dance floor, hips and hands swaying proudly.

"Ay, Miguel, what are you still doing here? Go to her! Ve!" Río pushed Miguel by his shoulders. He was surprised to know how strong she was. He stumbled into the crowd, cursing out loud. But all his attitude faded when he saw how inviting you were, laughing and moving gracefully. Miguel couldn't help but smile. "Puto..." he chuckled to himself. Head down, gaze up, he advanced towards you. The beat of the music throbbed in sync with his heartbeat as he neared you. "I seen you watch. It's nice you come!" you yelled over the music. You broken English made you even more attractive to him. Miguel let out a laugh.

"What can I say? It's a good song."

Miguel was slow to start, still adjusting to the sudden change in energy. He cautiously looked around making sure nobody he knew could see him. You on the other hand, cast away the leash on you and moved to the beat with ease. With each step, you effortlessly mirrored each other's movements. You could see that he was still rigid, so you thought of something that might help.

The music surged, your bodies swayed and intertwined, guided by an invisible force of attraction. You turned your back to him, hands above your head, swaying your hips seductively, just enough to get him riled up.

Oh, Miguel was in a profound mood now. He knew what you were trying to do. And even if it was in public, he couldn't care less. His hands delicately held your waist, his touch light yet firm. You swayed your hips to the beat of the song, grinding your ass against his hips. It felt like a shot of adrenaline. Miguel finally understood the "tingle". He moved his hands from your waist to your hips, reflexively pulling you closer, letting your hips slap against him. He was guiltlessly hard.

He slid his fingers under the hem of your cargo shorts, letting them ride up. Your soft skin felt hot under his touch. By then, Miguel had definitely loosened up and was actually swaying his hips provocatively, synced to the bass. He spun you around and held you by your hips, one hand holding yours. He stepped back and forth, making his shoulders work to the rhythm. He held his arm up and you twirled under it, picking up the pace and shaking your body. With every turn, every spin, your bodies brushed against each other, kindling an irresistible fire. You loved how he was opening up. He pulled you closer by you arm, spinning you around and letting you fall, catching you just in time, leaning into you.

"Quién eres tú, bombón?" you asked. (who are you, hottie) (idk man roll with it)

"Someone you're going to be dancing a lot for..." he murmured in your ear, pulling you up, hands finding their way to your hips once more.

Miguel and you dance to the next several songs.

Meanwhile, the spider society sat atop the venue in Miles' special place, looking down at them.

"He's kind of... good at it," muttered Gwen.

"Good? He's killing it!" said Peter, holding his phone out, recording.

"I'd even go as far as to say he looks sexy dancing like that."

"HOBIE!!??"

"What; I root for lap dance Miguel," he replied.

"Lap dance Miguel. Huh."

"That's a nice name..."

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 20: Finale

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 19

January 28, 1970

The muscles of Rebecca’s abdomen constrict. Pushing against her organs and the air out of her lungs. Pulling her into a crunch as he knuckles cling white to the sides of the hospital bed. While the doctor waits between her legs. Encouraging her to keep going.

It doesn’t escape her that there is no one directly at her bedside. No hand to grasp as the next contraction steals away her time to breath. No partner to rub her back to ease the pain.

Rebecca Lawson is doing this entirely alone. As she has for the past nine months, and will continue to do in the next eighteen years. But as her vision burns blinding white, and the pain finally subsides, she hears a sound that pulls the strength deep in her heart.

The screams or her baby girl.

She falls back on the hospital pillows, panting the air back into her lungs. Wiping the sweat off her brow. Feeling the tired seep into her veins. The slow fade back into peace. Except for baby girl.

Baby girl just won’t quit. Screaming her way through getting washed off and measured. Little arms reaching into the air. Squirming her way into being. Eyes glued shut while her mouth stays agape with cries.

A nurse comes over and helps Rebecca loosen the fabric around her chest. While she outstretches her arms and brings baby girl close to her heart. A mix of emotions building behind her eyes, pouring down her cheeks. She’s finally here.

“Hey, baby,” Rebecca whispers. “You don’t have to cry, I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

Her hand cradles the back of baby’s head. Caressing it gently with small, circular strokes. Calming her down from the initial cries. Watching as she stretches her hands in front of her face, eyes blinking their way open.

For the first time, Rebecca looks into her daughter’s eyes. Sees the curious brown stare back at her. Already knowing the fundamental truth of Rebecca’s whole being.

Motherhood came to her at a time she would not have initially chosen. Life throwing this wrench in the way of her future plans. Reminding her of its unpredictable nature. There were mistakes, and there were successes. And then there was this. Something that most view as a gift but can be so challenging to accept.

But Rebecca was never one to be held down by life’s challenges. So she took the wrench and ran with it. Used it to build something she always wanted. It wasn’t perfect, and neither is she.

Looking here at her little girl, she knows that only one thing matters. To love this girl for all that she is, no matter what. To be the best mother she can be and try to do what’s right. Acknowledge the mistakes that will be made and learn from them. Create a space of safety, joy, and love, wherever that may be. Try to be worthy of every moment that this little girl will give her.

Because from now on, it’s just her and her little girl. Rebecca and Julie Lawson, against the world.

. . .

Present Day, July 1987

Julie lays in her bed, having not much else she can do after being diagnosed with a minor concussion. The impact of the steering wheel just enough to injure her for a week or so. Until the headache stops and she’s able to go back to life.

Alone in her dark bedroom, the only light is the sun that finds its way around her curtain. Lighting the room just enough where she can see but it doesn’t add to her headache.

All there is for her to do is think. About everything and nothing at all. Replaying the songs she knows by heart in her mind. Thinking about her story that reaches a hurdle she just can’t jump over. Wondering if it’s time to start a new one.

Writing was Julie’s escape. A way for her to leave her current plane of existence and create a new one. Stay there for a while where the issues were controlled by her mind, and her mind alone. Where everything turned out the way she wanted it to.

She hasn’t been able to write since moving into the new house. The last entry in her journal being the one she read to her mom on Christmas. Every idea in her mind fading as soon as the pen hit paper. Seeming stupid once she tried to form it into words.

In the whole of everything, life hasn’t been that terrible. The school year is over, so she doesn’t have to worry about that anymore. Her friends seem to have this rotation of who’s house they hang out at, and when. Her house slowly being added to the rotation.

Steve won his case. Their custody court date is slowly incoming, and there’s no doubt in her mind that it will go well. She doesn’t hate herself for liking girls anymore. Her grief, while still prevalent, is slowly starting to fade into a distant memory.

Julie thought that if the pain of losing her mom stopped, so would the memories. The times eventful enough to imprint themselves in her mind fading with the grief. That wasn’t the case, for the most part. Those memories were still just that, memories. Coming and fading as every other one does. Bringing little sparks of joy with them. Joined by tug of pain.

There are still going to be times when Julie’s grief comes back and overwhelms her. Certain milestones where she looks out for her mom and realizes she isn’t there. Feels the crushing weight of loss and knowing that their time together had an early ending.

But. If Julie thinks hard enough, she can still feel her mom around her. Can still smell the scent of her cheap perfume in the jacket she wore every day. And not just because Julie had found the same bottle in the convenience store and brough it home. Sprays a bit every time she wants to remember.

She’d do it now if the smell wouldn’t add to her headache. Instead, she just turns her head to look at her desk. Sees the picture of her and her mom staring back at her. Smiles that familiar smile that’s formed every time she visits a memory. The one filled with happiness, tinged with sad at the corners.

Her life isn’t perfect by a long shot. It was never going to be. Perfection wasn’t something Julie or Rebecca ever strived for. Perfection in the way the rest of the world viewed it at least. Often unattainable.

Their perfect was a life worth living. Surrounded by people they loved. Julie and Rebecca against the world.

Even though it was only Julie who was taking the steps forward now. Only her to traverse this path once walked hand in hand. She isn’t alone. Her mom is still there, in the path beneath her feet. In the trees as they wave in the breeze. And the sun as it blinds her eyes.

Love never leaves. Not when it was meant to stay. When it was true, and beautiful. Rebecca loved Julie. In every way a daughter wishes her mother would. While life could put the blinders on and dampen that feeling. Deep down, Julie always knew it was fact. Knows that it’s fact, even now.

There’s a knock at her door. Each rapt echoing inside her ears. Making her wince. Steve opens it, holding the phone against his chest.

“It’s El, she was wondering if you wanted anyone to keep you company.”

Julie props herself up on some pillows. Gaging the severity of her headache. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Cool, I’ll let her know.”

A little while later, El gently knocks on Julie’s door before entering. Smiles as she sits at the foot of her bed. Resting her bag on the floor.

“How are you feeling?”

Julie shrugs. “My head hurts like a bitch and I’m bored out of my mind. But better.”

El smiles. The small braids of her hair dusting her shoulder as she moves her head. “That is good.”

“Yeah.” Julie can’t seem to break the gaze of El’s eyes. “I like your hair. Did Max do them?”

El nods, a hand coming up to play with the end of one of her braids. The faintest pink blush forming across her cheeks. Now that it’s been pointed out, Julie’s not sure how she didn’t notice it before.

“My hair is finally long enough to do things with again. I like it this way.”

Julie shifts over in her bed, making enough room for El to sit beside her. She pats the space next to her and waits for El to move. Heart speeding up as they press together. As El relaxes against her side.

“The group is talking about going to the movies this weekend,” El says. “You can come if you are feeling better.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll be up to it. The doctor said I should stay away from watching tv or movies for another week.”

El fidgets with her fingers. “That is ok. Maybe another time.”

Anticipation builds in Julie’s chest. A question forming itself on her tongue. Begging to be asked. The moment where she can see if things between them could change. Or if she’s about to break everything apart.

“We could see one, after I’m better, I mean.” She tries to say it normal, but the weight behind the question persists.

El looks at her confused. “I am sure we can. Just prepare yourself for a lot of fighting over which one to watch. They cannot decide on anything.”

Julie lets out a small laugh. “No. I mean, yeah, I’ll always go to a movie with you guys. But I meant we see a movie.” She motions between the two of them. “Just the two of us.”

The blush returns to El’s cheeks. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Julie dismisses. Feeling self-conscious. Turning away from El and picking at her thumbs. “If you wanted to, that’s all. We don’t have to. We can just sit through the very long argument over what movie and go with the rest of them. It doesn’t have to be,” Julie stutters to a stop when El reaches out at takes her hand.

“Just the two of us,” she finishes. Taking a chance and looking back at El.

There is this softness in El’s eyes that Julie’s never seen before. Something that makes Julie melt. Want to stay trapped in this gaze forever.

“I would like that,” El finally says. Mouth forming a small smile. “Going to a movie. Just the two of us.”

Julie’s smile matches El’s. “Ok. Good. Great. Um. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

. . .

“How’s Julie doing,” Robin asks when she clocks into her shift.

“Bored out of her mind because she can’t do anything. But feeling better about everything.”

Robin nods, hopping up onto the counter. “That’s good.”

She moves on to talking about other things. Picking classes for her next semester at community college. Starting to look at schools that can take her beyond that. Finally narrowing down what she wants to do with her life. Pick a major that she’s not only good at, but also really enjoys.

Steve’s half listening. Stuck on the idea that she could actually be leaving town. That this time next year, he’ll be helping her pick out stuff for her dorm room. Start packing up her life into boxes and bringing them to a new place. Where she won’t be ten minutes across town anymore. But an hour, maybe a day.

There’s more to this than just wanting her to stay her forever. What happens when he gets a nightmare and needs to call her to make sure she’s alive. What happens when a call isn’t enough, and he needs to feel her presence. Just to get back to sleep again. For his mind to return to normal.

A year from now, things could be different. They could be better. But he doesn’t know that. And doesn’t think it will be. Two weeks ago, he couldn’t even distinguish between his boyfriend and a Russian soldier. What’s that say about his progress?

But instead of spiraling like before, knowing that he was stuck in the same place while everyone moved on, he was trying to live in the moment more. Trying to feel better about staying in one place for a while. To find rigidity in the town that seemed to constantly change. Watch it build back into the place it used to be.

“That community college you go to,” Steve interrupts Robin. “They offer classes for everything?”

Robin shrugs. “Yeah, pretty much. Not like everything everything, but most beginner level classes and gen eds and shit. Why?”

Steve’s been thinking about what to do with the money he won. If it would be better to pay off some of his loan, or put it towards something useful. He wasn’t quitting this job anytime soon. If he did, it would be to go work somewhere else. And now, he isn’t planning on moving for a few years.

What if he used it for himself. Actually did something for him first, before anyone else. Used it to find out what he was meant to do. What his real passion was.

“I was thinking of taking some classes in the fall,” he says like it doesn’t matter. “Put the feelers out, figure out what I’m good at.”

Robin freezes. “Are you serious?”

Steve shrugs. “Yeah.”

She hops down from the counter and pulls him into a hug. “Holy shit, we could be classmates again. But, like, actually like each other this time. I’m coming over and we’re looking through my course catalogue. This is going to be so great.”

The smile he makes it full of hope. “Yeah. So great.”

. . .

August 1987

“How old are you, Mr. Harrington?” the judge asks from where he is residing behind the stand.

“Twenty-one, your honor,” Steve responds.

The judge marks something on his note pad. “And you have a full-time job, a home under your own name?”

“That is correct. I am the manager at Family Video and recently bought a house.”

He knows that it’s the judge’s job to ask these questions. To prove that he’s fit to look after Julie. But each time the judge takes a second to look at him too long, or write something on his notepad, Steve gets a chill down his spine. Knowing that something could stop this from happening. Cause Julie to have to find somewhere else to live.

Steve didn’t want that. Julie didn’t want that. He can almost hear her picking at the skin around her thumbs behind him. Pulling at them until they start to bleed.

“And that is the same address you have listed here?”

Steve nods. “Yes.”

There are more questions about him. How the finances have been and his home life. Wondering if he’s going to be bringing people in and out of the house. Implying that Steve has some kind of a night life that he does not. He defends himself, lying that he’s taking a break from dating. That he would never bring anyone into the home that he doesn’t trust.

“As you know, Julie is a bright young girl. College bound. You will have the option to provide that for her, Mr. Harrington. There is not much time for you to do that.”

Steve can’t avoid the sting every time the judge calls him Mr. Harrington. It sounds so much like his father that it makes him sick. But he is still tied to that name, so it will follow him. He can’t focus on how that makes him feel right now.

“I am aware of that,” Steve starts. “I recently was just granted a sum of money, some of which I am going to use to further my own education, but the rest will be going into savings. Which I will start to grow in the case that Julie needs my help when she goes to college.”

“In the case of,” the Judge presses. “While not a requirement, it would be expected of you to help her pay for schooling.”

Steve glances to Sarah behind him. Silently asking her if it’s ok to disclose the information kept in Rebecca’s will. The trust made in Julie’s name, that she doesn’t know about. No one other than Sarah knows.

She nods, giving him permission.

He clears his throat. “That has, actually, already been taking care of by her mother. The savings that she made before her death have been transferred to a trust that Julie will have access to once she turns eighteen.”

“What,” Julie says behind him. Steve turns to see her shocked expression. “I didn’t know that.”

“You weren’t supposed to,” Sarah cuts in. “It was supposed to be kept a secret until you turned eighteen.”

The judge hits his gavel. “I understand the questions that arise with this information, but could we please get back to the matter at hand. Thank you.”

The courtroom goes quite once more.

“Miss Lawson, could you please come sit next to your brother.”

The door squeaks as it opens and swings back shut. The chair dragging along the floor as Julie takes the seat next to him.

“You are turning eighteen in about half a year, Miss Lawson. Why go through this process so close to when you become a legal adult.”

Julie clears her throat, looking down at her hands. “When my mom died, I thought my world had ended. It was always just me and her. I didn’t know who was going to look after me anymore. I didn’t know what family I had left. But then I met Steve.”

She looks up, giving Steve a small smile. “I didn’t know I had a brother until shortly before my mom died, and when I learned about it, I wanted nothing to do with my father’s family. Then life happened and I decided that Steve deserved to know. And it gave me a chance to have a family again. That’s why I wanted to do this.”

“What about you, Mr. Harrington?” The judge turns to Steve, a knowing look in his eye. Steve can tell that the decision has already been made. “Why are you here before me today?”

“The same reason,” he says simply. “My whole life I wanted a sibling, someone to share the empty house I was left in all the time. Julie gave me a chance to have that. She became part of the family I always wanted, and I am so thankful for that.”

The judge nods, asking them both to stand.

“I have reviewed the information given to me and have decided. There is no outstanding reason as to why I should object to this. Mr. Harrington has already proved that he is able to provide for Miss Lawson until she reaches eighteen. With the money that Miss Lawson’s mother left for her after her passing will help with expenses after that. I hereby grant Steve Harrington with permanent guardianship of Julie Lawson.”

The courtroom starts to dissipate after the judge’s ruling. Steve turning to Julie with a feeling of disbelief. He can’t believe that it was just that easy. There was this feeling in his gut that was telling him that something would go wrong. That he’s been winning too much lately. Something was about to come crashing down.

But instead, Julie smiles back. Pure joy filling her face as she starts to laugh. They did it.

. . .

Julie chucks her soda into the trash can as her and El leave the movie theater. The two talking and laughing as they walk back to the parking lot. Hands brushing as they walk, tempting Julie to reach out and take it. Wondering how big the risk really is.

The thing about dark theaters is that no one cares what’s going on when the lights go out. All that matters is eyes glued to the screen, not if two girls are holding hands. Even if Julie locked her fingers with El’s out in the open, it could just be seen as two friends walking down the street. As long as they kept it friendly. Any other affection and they could run the risk of being found out.

She’s still getting used to this whole idea. That one wrong move and people would figure out this intense secret of hers. Treat it like it’s the worst thing in the world, even though it’s definitely not. It felt that way at first, but it’s not.

Now, the intense rush of emotions makes Julie’s heart stutter as El’s nose scrunches just slightly as she laughs. As El grabs Julie’s hand and swings their arms as they walk to her dad’s car. It makes her question how anyone could think this feeling was wrong. Or that this relationship is any less than one between straight people.

If this is even a relationship.

Since a few weeks ago when Julie first asked El on a date, things have been different. Seats scooched slightly closer to one another, hands finding each other under blankets during movie nights. Private jokes whispered into each other’s ears and sharing secret smiles. The air between them shifted to something beyond friends. But it was still somewhat the same.

Julie wonders where this is going to go. If the night will end with her and El deciding that this was a terrible idea. Going back to being just friends and nothing more. Or if this shift in energy will only bloom into something more. Something so much deeper than Julie’s ever experienced.

“How was the movie,” El’s dad asks as he drives them back to her house. Breaking the almost awkward silence between the front and back seats.

“It was good,” El smiles. “Very funny.”

She looks at Julie, making a motion to imitate one of the parts of the film. Connecting it to one of her jokes back in the theater. Sending Julie into laughter.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Very funny.”

Hopper whispers something under his breath. But there’s a small smile hiding itself on his face. Julie doesn’t know how much he knows. Something just tells her that he approves of this on some plane. Whether as friends or something more.

Julie says hello to Mrs. Byers on the way in, following El to her room. They sit on El’s bed, falling into conversation. Julie constantly overthinking the mood of the room. Overthinking every touch, every moment, every word. Wondering if this is the time to do something more. Or to pull away. Stopping this before it all crashes and burns. Preventing herself from taking this risk.

“As soon as it comes out on VHS, we have to show it to the rest of the group,” El comments. “They would find it so funny.”

Julie shrugs, “I guess so.”

“It is kind of like our group. Kids and their babysitter going on a big adventure. Getting into trouble. That is basically our life.”

The irony of picking this movie makes Julie laugh. Finally knowing some context of how they all met before Julie came into the mix.

“You know, Steve told me of some that happened,” Julie says before thinking. Stupidly slipping the moment into a much darker topic. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up.”

El’s demeanor changes. She curls into herself. Playing with the hem of her shorts. “Did Max tell you what I asked her to? About my life before my dad adopted me.”

Julie nods. “Yeah.”

“How much of it?”

“Just that you were in a really bad place before and had to escape. That it was the same lab that caused all of those other people to die in ’83 and ’84.”

El nods. So sad that it makes Julie want to wrap her in a hug and never let her go. Protect her from anything that makes her look like this. She slowly removes the bracelet from around her wrist, revealing a small tattoo. The number eleven.

“This is the real reason I am called El. I was number Eleven, it was my name when I escaped.”

Julie carefully reaches out and holds El’s wrist. Taking a closer look at the tattoo. Feeling the weight of knowing this in her hands.

“There were other children there too. We were all numbers. Until I was the only one left.”

“You don’t have to tell me this,” Julie assures when she sees a tear trail down El’s cheek. Fighting the urge to wipe it away. “I’m sorry I brought this up in the first place. I wanted tonight to be a good night.”

El’s smile returns to her face. Still painted with a tired sorrow. But the joy sparks at its edges. “It is ok. I wanted you to know. I feel safe when I’m with you. And tonight,” she looks down at her wrist, Julie’s hand still holding it gently. “It was a good night. A very good night.”

The slight blush returns to her cheeks. Almost embarrassed. A piece of her hair falling in front of her eyes. Julie wanting to reach out and tuck it away.

“Good,” Julie says awkwardly. “It was a good night for me too.”

“I have never been on a date with a girl before. Only with Mike and I was not allowed to go on any dates like the one we had today. It was nice, very nice.” El tucks the strand of hair behind her ear.

A date. Julie can’t help the flush that rises to her cheeks. She knew what this was, but still. Hearing El be the one to say it solidified what it was. Reassure that this wasn’t all one sided.

She huffs a laugh, trying to sound normal. “Well, that’s good.”

It sounds so repetitive when she says it. Like no other words can form in her mouth. Stuck on a loop. But El moves closer and all her brain can tell her is good. Good as the nerves make their way to her fingers, shaking as they lock with El’s. Good as the mood shifts away from the sad and into anticipation. Like something is going to happen but Julie can’t tell what it is.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” El springs up from the bed. Breaking the tension. She walks over to the dresser and rummages through the small basket sitting on top of it. Returning with something closed in her fist. “I want you to close your eyes and hold out your hand.”

Julie does so, tentatively. “Ok.”

She feels El slide something onto her wrist. Feather light touches as she positions it and pulls it taught. The touch leaves and the bed dips beside her again.

“Ok, you can open your eyes now.”

Julie looks to her wrist, seeing a braided bracelet tied around it. “It’s pretty, thank you.”

“You are welcome. I have been meaning to make you one for a while now because everyone else has one. It was meant to be a friendship bracelet, and it still can be. But we are not exactly just friends anymore.”

“Not if you don’t want us to be.” Julie turns to look at El, their faces closer than she was expecting them to be.

That tension picks up again. Along with the nervousness melded with excitement in her chest.

“I want us to,” El rushes out. “If you want us to.”

“Can I kiss you?” Julie whispers. The question already answered in her mind weeks ago, but never said allowed. Sometimes actions were better than words.

El nods. Leaning forward as Julie’s lips press into hers.

. . .

Steve sits on his couch watching the kids bicker over what movie to watch. Eddie pressed between him and the edge of the couch. The two already preparing to have to make space for some of the kids when they finally figure out a movie. Robin and Nancy doing the same, crammed together into one armchair.

It still surprises him how they all continue to cram into his house. Almost refusing to use any other space that might be more accommodating. Where they might actually have a seat that’s not some old pillows on the floor. Where, even then, they won’t have to sit closer than they want to in order to fit.

But time and time again, they continue to come over to Steve’s. Eat his food and use his tv. Bother him in ways that don’t really bother him, but they’ll never know that. Continue to show him that it was never the things that he owned that made his home special. It was him.

Time, after time, after time, they continue to flock to his house because he was the one who made it. It was him that made sure they were all fed and taken care of. Him that helped them through troubles and picked them up from school. Him who made sure that no matter what, this was a space free of judgement that they could just be themselves.

It’s shown with the way that Eddie’s able to sink into the arm Steve has thrown across the back of the couch. Seen in the way that Robin and Nancy whisper to each other while playing with each other’s fingers. Seen in the way that El holds Julie’s arm, pressing her cheek into her shoulder. Seen in the way that Mike continues to stare at Will and starts to inch closer, actually trying to do something about it all.

“Move in with me,” Steve whispers to Eddie sometime during the movie. Having wanted to ask that question for months now.

Eddie turns to look at him, confusion and shock mixing his emotions. “Yeah?”

Steve nods, smiling a stupid smile he doesn’t care about hiding anymore. “Court cases are done, school’s starting up again. It’s the perfect time. If you wanted to.”

“Of course I want to,” Eddie says with all the whispered dramatics in the world. The love he has in eyes ever present.

Taking a quick glance to make sure no one is looking, Steve closes the gap between them for what was supposed to be a quick kiss. That is until the kids starting gagging and booing. Making them prolong it to further their discomfort.

“You ask him?” Julie asks while helping him pick up discarded paper plates and cups. A knowing smile already on her face.

“Yeah, I asked him.”

“Took you long enough.” She punches him gently in the arm before heading off to bed.

What started as a stranger on his doorstep adding more uncertainty to his life, turned out to be the best thing that’s happened to him in a while. A sister, family, coming into his life and showing him that he had a chance to take it for himself. Change the way he was living to finally be happy with it. Completely and utterly happy with it.

This house was never meant to be Steve’s endgame. This town was never meant to be it either. But these people, this family, this home, he will travel with it until the ends of the Earth. Until the ground splits in two again and swallows them all whole. Until shit hits the fan and he has to pull his old nail bat out of retirement.

Steve doesn’t know what his future holds. What career he’s going to find himself in a year, in five. Where life will carry him after Hawkins. But if he’s sure of one thing and one thing only, he’s sure to never, ever let it go.

. . .

January 28, 1988

Julie heads into the house after school, ready to get changed out of her work clothes before heading out again. The group meeting at the local diner to celebrate her birthday. She slings her apron into the hamper when she notices something on her desk.

Sorry I couldn’t be here for your birthday, we’ll do something tomorrow. This came for you in the mail. Call me if you need anything. Have fun!

Steve

She rips off the post it and tosses it in the trash, looking at the envelope. She tears it open taking out the papers inside. On top is a letter from Sarah, the words causing her to sit down as she frantically reads the words.

It’s all the paperwork that she’ll need to fill out to transfer the money from her trust to her. All of the savings her mom set up for her for college. So she can finally make a decision about the growing stack of acceptance letters on her desk.

Looking at this amount, that decision won’t be hard. She can pretty much go to any of the schools she applied to with this money.

All this money, every payment, almost every cent must have gone into this account. This is money that could have changed their lives. Could have gotten them out of the trailer and into a house. Maybe stopped her mom from having to work two jobs just to keep afloat.

There was almost one hundred and fifty thousand dollars in this account. Doing the math, around seven hundred and fifty dollars a month for the seventeen years her mom was paid. All of it saved for her future.

Underneath all the papers that she can’t even think about looking through right now, there’s one that doesn’t look like the rest. One that’s on lined sheets of paper ripped out of a notebook. Recognition hitting Julie almost instantly.

It’s a letter from her mom.

She slams the letter onto the desk, hiding it among the rest of the papers. Unsure if she wants to read it now. Knowing that she has to leave soon to get to dinner. Not knowing how it’s going to affect her.

Deciding to save it for after dinner, Julie forces herself out of the chair and heads to her closet. Pulls out some clothes and gets changed, grabbing her keys on her way out the door. Trying to push the letter to the back of her mind. It works for a while, but every time the conversation stutters, her thoughts are drawn back to the paper hiding on her desk.

She really wants to know what it says.

El grabs Julie’s hand under the table. Giving it a gentle squeeze to silently ask if she’s ok. Julie nods, promising to tell her about it later.

The dinner ends and Julie drives El back to the house. Grabs her hand and leads her to the bedroom. Pulls the letter from underneath the stack and sits with it on her bed. Staring at the first line, unable to read more.

“It’s a letter from my mom,” Julie finally says.

El wraps an arm around Julie’s. “What does it say?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t read it yet.”

“Do you want to?” El presses her cheek into Julie’s shoulder, grounding her.

Julie bites at her lip. “I do. I think a part of me is scared too though.”

“I’m here for you. Whenever you are ready.”

Julie takes a deep breath. Holding the letter closer, finally reading what her mom has to say. “Here goes nothing.”

My dear Julie,

I know what you’re probably thinking. I’m insane for putting all of this money away for you, not using even a little bit of it for myself. Or for you now. And I did every now and then. You kept growing so fast and I couldn’t keep up. Sometimes I needed to use a little just to make sure you had clothes that fit. Or for holidays.

But the point of it all was that this money was for you. I didn’t need anyone else to help raising you. I didn’t want to take the money in the first place. Until I realized that this money could help you get the life you always dreamed of. That I always dreamed for you.

You are so smart, Jules. And so creative. I loved every story you ever wrote to me. Cherished each one. Not just because I’m your mom, but also because they were just that good. You have a gift to write like that. Never lose it.

After today, this money is yours. You can do whatever you want with it. Go to school, travel the world, move out of this town, I don’t care. Just make sure to come visit me every so often. There will always be a place for you in my heart and my home.

Whatever you do, just promise me that you’ll enjoy it. Promise me that you’ll never lose that spark in your eyes that you get when a new idea comes in your head. Promise me that you never lose your laughter, or your sense of humor. Promise me that you’ll take life by the reigns and lead it straight into your sunset.

Your future is bright, Julie. Let this be my greatest gift to you, the first steppingstone in your independent life.

You’re going to do great things one day. I know because you are already doing them now.

I love you to the ends of the Earth. To the moon and all the stars. It was an honor to see you grow into the woman you are today.

Love,

Mom

P.S. I hope my tears didn’t stain this paper too much. You know me, forever a sap.

A wet laugh escapes Julie’s mouth. Tears adding to the small rings at the bottom of the page. Fingers grazing over the last line. Over and over. She eventually sets the paper down next to her. Careful not to crumble it as she collapses into El. As the sob she’s been holding in all day breaks free.

The next morning, Julie wakes up with her arms still tight around El. With the tear stains still imprinted onto her cheek. Mouth dry from all the crying.

She sits up, finds the letter placed gently on the nightstand. Clicks on her small lamp and rereads it. Over and over again.

These are the last words Julie will ever hear, or read, from her mom. Written however long ago, Julie doesn’t even know. But it was without the knowledge of what would come. How their ending would be.

Sometimes endings aren’t as conclusive as once thought to be. Sometimes, an epilogue is added that is heart wrenching and makes the reader question when the end really is. Pulls the heart string one last time as the book finally comes to a close.

Then, endings form new beginnings. Each chapter ends and starts another. New conflicts arise and fall into resolution. The plot keeps moving as the pages turn. As time moves on.

As far as final chapters go, Julie thinks this is a nice one. Filled with just enough loose ends to keep the reader interested in a sequel, but tying up the ones that really matter. A sense of closure forming in her chest. A readiness to step right into this new chapter. The letter fitting as perfect set up.

El stirs, scrunching her eyes closed with the light. Julie laughs a little, reaching across to turn the light off.

“Sorry.”

“It is fine,” she blinks. Pulling herself to sit next to Julie. “Reading it again?”

Julie nods. “It was a lot at first, but it’s really comforting to have this. To know that she loved me enough to plan this all out for me.”

“She loved you so much, I believe that.”

“I think she would have liked you,” Julie smiles. “I think she would have liked us.”

El smiles back, the sleep still pulling at the muscles in her face. “I wish I could meet her.”

Julie presses their heads together. “Yeah, I do too.”

A fist slams against the door. Startling them apart. “Breakfast is ready,” Eddie yells through the door.

Julie rolls her eyes. Him having done this every single time El has stayed over. “You can ease the wakeup call, you know. It’s getting old.”

“No, I think I’m going to keep doing this until you both graduate college.”

The both of them roll their eyes as they make their way out to the kitchen. Steve and Eddie bickering not so quietly while plating the eggs. Shutting up just for a second when they enter the room. Until it picks up again while they eat.

Julie can’t help but laugh, sharing small glances with El across the table. There’s this warmth in this house that she thought she’d never feel again. A space that is her own. A home to come back to. Where love radiates through the walls.

While the circumstances were those that she would not have picked willingly, this was still something she didn’t want to lose. This family she’s apart of, this life she has, it’s more than she could have asked for after the accident. It’s more than she ever expected to happen after tragedy.

But it did. And this life that she’s got left, this family, this home, she’s doesn’t want it to change. She doesn’t want it to leave. Hoping that it follows her to the ends of the Earth. Love her to the moon and all the stars. Because she knows that wherever her mom is looking down at her, it’s what she would want too.

Deep in her heart, she knows.

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis,

@ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi,

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet,

@steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy,

@connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso,

@crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @melonmochi

[beatinginavoid]

The Forest

Part 1 of 6 fics.

The forest was a dangerous place.

All of the people that lived nearby knew it intimately. They took extra care to warn each and every traveller of it too. It had been this way for generations, and would doubtless continue in this manner for generations more. Whether or not their warnings were heeded were another matter entirely.

One traveller, dressed in a leaf green tunic, had brushed off the repeated warning.

“How can such a lush, enchanting forest possibly be dangerous? I’ll relish the scenery,” they had said.

So what happened when they entered the forest?

— — —

The forest was just as beautiful as you thought. Flourishing green plants and trees everywhere, wildflowers and mushrooms scattered about. Somewhere nearby burbled a river or brook, the relaxing noise mingling with the songs of various birds, creating cheery and soothing ambience for a picture perfect scene.

You walk further in, admiring the greenery and running your fingers over and through it. You stoop to smell a particularly pretty flower, closing your eyes and letting the scent invade your senses.

“Oh, a nature lover!” says a sweet voice.

Startled, you swiftly turn around and stare. There, little more than half a dozen feet away, stands an attractive figure. They were clothed only in leaves and draped all over in jewellery made of flowers. Their hair was the same shade of lush green that had drawn you to the forest in the first place.

“Hello,” you say politely.

“Do you like green growing things?” they ask.

“Of course! They are the inspiration for my art,” you proudly proclaim, gesturing all around you.

The figure smiles happily. “Do you like to water them? Make sure they are nourished?”

You raise an eyebrow and nod. “Naturally,” you reply.

The figure clapped their hands together. “Wonderful! Wonderful! What a truly good heart you possess for a human!”

“Why thank you,” you say before the last part of their sentence registers fully in your mind. “...for a human?”

You scrutinise the figure closely. The nose was slim, the hazel eyes slanted, the ears pointed. This figure was clearly not human. Was it some kind of forest sprite? A dryad? Something you had never heard of?

“Yes. For a human.” They flick a finger in your direction and grin widely, eyes sparkling with joy.

You tilt your head in confusion and take half a step back, ready to flee. Was this enchanting figure what the townsfolk had tried to warn you of? A tiny pinch of pain hit your chest. Was it from fear? You had to move. You try to take another step but it’s like your feet are rooted to the ground.

Fingers, head, spine, nothing responds to your will but your eyes. You stand there, frozen like a living statue as your heart, lungs and ribs retain their movements. Every breath and each accelerating beat resound through your body with a force you’ve never felt from your organs before.

It made you more aware than you’ve ever been about your own fragile mortality.

Your heart settles on an elevated rate as the figure doesn’t make any further moves. They merely smile at you in a friendly manner, looking like some benign entity. All they do is blink at you.

You feel as if they are waiting for something. Your heart continues pumping at its current pace but each beat becomes more forceful, pounding harder and harder, slamming into your ribs. It throbs harshly, shaking your whole upper body. It’s so loud you can hear it.

BA-THUMP BA-THUMP BA-THUMP BA-THUMP BA-THUMP BA-THUMP BA-THUMP BA-THUMP BA-THUMP BA-THUMP BA-THUMP 

You have never felt your heart beat like this before. It was both unnerving and intriguing. You admire life in many forms, particularly those of plants, but being confronted with your own so clearly threw you for a loop. Plants did not have a pulsing organ within them to pump lifeblood, so you never really paid attention to the source of life that powered other organisms.

Now that your focus was on it, you could feel a weird tickling sensation coupled with an awkward heavy feeling. It only increased as the seconds ticked by. Your chest was starting to feel painful, your breathing picking up.

Your pounding heart spiked in pain with every single beat. As your lungs began to heave, your pump decided to race once more. Your lungs were working harder than ever, but air seemed frustratingly hard to come by. The heart, desperate and panicking at the lack of oxygen, was thundering into your ribs faster than ever before. You began to feel lightheaded and dizzy, your vision going a bit blurry.

The pain, heavily focused in the centre of your chest, became sharper, tearing, until an agonising spike doubled you over at the waist. A thorny branch, like a thick rose stem, thrashed free from your chest, leaving pieces of broken ribs to fall to the ground.

Your eyes are as wide as they will go as you behold the sight.

Speared upon the thorny branch, and now dangling down from your broken rib cage, is your heart. It is still attached inside you and you can feel the rapid pulsing of blood still flowing around your body. Each frantic beat sends the apex of your pumping muscle swinging slightly. The organ also sends out spurts of blood from every thorn caused laceration, dripping and spraying onto the ground near your feet in a macabre parody of watering a flower.

You pant and gasp, barely hanging onto consciousness, gawking in disbelief as your heart frantically pumps in the open air in plain view as it tries to keep life in your body.

Beat, spurt, beat, spurt, beat, spurt, beat, spurt, beat, spurt, beat, spurt-

Your heart clearly starts to struggle as the oxygen and blood levels drop quickly. The pumps contracts at such a rapid rate that you can’t even feel the blood moving through your veins anymore. The poor organ was practically covered in crimson liquid, the blood dripping at your feet with every tiny movement.

“Yes, you will make such a dazzling addition to the forest!” says the being.

Your vision is blurred so badly, black encroaching at the edges, still locked on your life’s core, that all you can see is a trembling, wiggly red blob. The heart is still racing, yearning for resources it couldn’t have, but the pumping was weaker. The contracting muscle did not spurt blood nearly as far as before, the weakening beats turning it into more of a waterfall fountain.

Your body is frozen in place again, though this time it seems your lungs have been affected as well. You gasp and wheeze with only the tiniest trickle of air getting through. Your beleaguered heart no longer had a steady rhythm. It pumped erratically, skipping and stuttering over multiple beats.

The agonising pain was consuming your mind, but you were almost unaware of it through the cold numbness spreading across your body from your fingers and toes. A small blessing.

“That’s it… Feed the forest…”

You hardly heard the voice over a low drone, punctuated by the irregular beats of your own heart that were directly in your ears. There was no air left in your system whatsoever. The vulnerable heart convulsed roughly, spasming in a last ditch effort to retain some semblance of rhythm. All of a sudden it stopped, falling into a vaguely jiggling, bleeding mass. Your eyes finally slip shut as your heart fibrillates. Your consciousness, and life, fled.

After an unknown amount of time, the fibrillation of the muscle quivered to a stop.

“Perfect. Very well done, human. Just need that last little bit…” the entity praises.

They reach out a hand and caress the bloody heart softly, slowly, and lovingly, their eyes full of adoration. They let both ventricles rest in their hand and suddenly crush both chambers in their grasp. Blood flies and dribbles over the being’s hand as they squeeze every last drop from the sad, wilted, deflated organ.

Days later the frozen body was no longer there. In its place stands a tree with beautiful white flowers. The speared and dangling heart was now a large, juicy fruit. The tree only adds to the picturesque scenery.

The forest was a dangerous place.

-----

I keep getting ideas, help! D:

I plan to write 5 other fics like this one, each with their own sort of theme.

While I prefer light cardiophilia (except heart exposure I guess?) I do dabble in the dark.

This is for anyone reading my works that wanted something darker!

🥀🫀

[the-dork-urge]

How they'd dance with you - BG3

Rolan

Underneath his snidey exterior lies a gentle soul who finds solace in dancing, albeit in the privacy of his own company.

He refines each move, berating himself with each misstep until perfection is achieves.

Though not intended for your eyes, the elegance with which he twirls and gracefully maneuvers with an imaginary partner is captivating, making it hard to look away.

A smile graces his lips as he extends his hand towards an invisible companion, tenderly bringing it to his lips. Just before he closes his eyes, you hear your name on his lips, pulling you into another dance, even if only in his imagination.

Dammon

This man can dance, though he has had little chance to prove it to the world. He glides his gaze over the crowd in the tavern until he spots you talking to your friend Gale.

You look wonderful like this, a drink in your hand, a smile on your lips, no armour wearing you down.

He calls out for you, and you smile as you see him waving you over. You leave your drink with Gale as you hurry towards him.

"Please, dance with me, love." Dammon says holding out a warm hand. You grab it eagerly as he pulls you closer in an instant. You follow his lead as he moves you around. Strong arms spinning you and pulling you in as the sound of laughter flows from both of you. As the song in the tavern draws to an end, your movements slow down and you find yourself pressed to his strong chest. "I could do this all night." He smiles, not yet ready to let you go.

Astarion

Astarion doesn't feel the need to prove himself a great dancer. There's a natural elegance about him, a sensuality that makes him a great dance partner and he knows it. He prefers to sip wine and judge the others, as you hang onto his every word and laugh at the awkwardness that unfolds on the dancefloor in front of you.

But he notices how you tap your feet to the rhythm of the music and how your hand has found him under the table. He needs little else to convince himself to dance with you.

"Darling, shall we." He guides you towards the floor, where his hands quickly find your waste,before snaking around your body. He pulls you in untill you are so very close. Astarion leads gracefully, and you follow his every step, your head resting on his shoulder.

You move perfectly in tandem as your bodies fully relax into each other. He presses a kiss on your head as he slowly keeps swaying you. He closes his eyes, feeling safety wash over him, his hands never leaving your back.

or

He want to dance with you. He really does. But the great hall in front of him, reminds him a little too much of the Palace. So he remains frozen in place, with his hands already around your waist. You notice the flicker of something behind his eyes. It's enough for you to understand. So you pull him close. Hugging him into a hug as you slowly sway him side to side. His hands move to your lower back where they settle comfortably. Pushing you even closer to him, as he nestles his face into your neck.

Scelaritas (joke.*)

You skip happily through the puddle of blood on the floor. The dead body between the two of you staring up in horror, mouth agape.

A dance macabre, perhaps, yet it only fills the two of you with joy. As your feet stick to the victims blood, you feel father's gaze upon you. He must smile at his kin's madness.

"Yes master. Dance we will." Your feet and his small talons create a beautiful red canvas on the floor. "Until the whole world lies at our feet."

[twistedwonderlandfantasies]

Firsts with Kalim Al-Asim💛🤍💛

Fem!reader

tags: fluff, dating

First time seeing each other:

You both had previously only caught glimpses of each other in halls during passing period. It was brief, enough take in some of the noticeable features of the boy. His doe eyes, a wonderful smile always upon his face, that disheveled soft look about his white hair. You also had a few classes with Kalim, but didn't talk to each other as you really only were well acquainted with Deuce and Ace at the beginning of your stay in NRC. Besides, he was always with an intimidating Jamil who seemed to stare daggers at anyone who looked at Kalim for more than eight seconds. When you both were finally paired in a class project, you felt your heart flutter with joy. Excited to finally interact with him up close, you quickly went to sit next to him in class to talk. "Y/N. What a unique name! I like it! You must come over to join us for dinner!" "To discuss the project." Jamil interrupts. "Yes, of course, to also discuss the project... I know we will make the best presentation!" His voice was like a happy song. With Kalim you felt so warm, hopeful, giddy. Can I always be with him?

First time developing feelings:

It wasn't surprising that you fell for the housewarden. He was so kind and thoughtful, perfectly radiant like the sun. When he'd call your name you'd practically turn into a puddle. "Y/N! I'm so glad we can study together." "Y/N, you look a bit tired... have you drank enough water today? Did you eat yet? Let me get you something, anything you like." He would come back with an entire vending machines worth of your favorite food and drink. "Please take care of yourself!" "Y/N, I asked Jamil to make your favorite lunch today, please, come sit with us!" When you would stay at Scarabia he would dote on you constantly. "Y/N, do you need extra pillows? Is the room to your liking?" Kalim would give you the biggest room they had— with its own indoor pool. "We have all kinds of breathable clothing imported from back at home. It's great for this sort of weather. Please take whichever piece you like!" He'd show you fine silken dresses, pants, scarves, all with vibrant colors and intricate patterns. He'd knock on your door at night while everyone would be sleeping. "Y/N" you would hear a whisper. "Jamil doesn't know I'm here, so please don't say anything. I thought we could share a midnight snack together." Kalim would bring small cookies and cakes so you could sit and eat together under the peaceful moon. Of course, the housewarden never noticed himself falling for you. It just became second nature to care and protect you. It wasn't until one day that he saw you talking with another student that it struck him. It struck him hard. He tried wrapping his arm around you. You looked so worried— and then it all happened in an instant. "Don't touch her!" All you saw was a flash of Kalim pushing the student aside, an expression upon his face you'd never imagined he could have. He never thought he could act this way, either, until the pang in his chest from seeing you being taken advantage of hit his head and everything clicked. I think I'm in love. Jamil couldn't help but grin from afar observing the situation. "Finally realized."

First time confessing:

Kalim had invited you that evening for dinner. But it felt different. Something about his voice, his words, his interaction just didn't feel like the boy you knew before. "Y/N, I'd like to invite you for dinner tonight. I hope you'll join me." There was an air of mystery, a charm in his eyes and he sounded so calm— a voice as smooth as sand. You slowly nodded, intrigued by this new Kalim. Since the occasion felt special you decided to dress more formally for that day. What better outfit than a wonderfully fitting dress Kalim had given you from the Scalding Sands that featured intricate beadwork and design. When you arrived the scent of sweet incense and aromatic spices hit your nose. You saw an endless sea of dishes put out in front of you, everything from sugared fruits to steaming kebabs. You nearly held your breath from the shock. Every candle was lit, tapestries decorated the room around you, and best of all was Kalim who sat there adorned in an equally beautiful outfit detailed with gold. Even the makeup which outlined his eyes was lined in a deeper, more seductive red. You sheepishly walked over to join him on the cushioned ground. "Kalim- I-" he spoke before you could finish, giving away to the nervous weight that laid on his chest. "This is all for you, Y/N, so please enjoy yourself. We'll eat and dance the night away— whatever you like." He grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. "Let me be with you, like this. I want to share these moments, good and bad, with you. Will you let me?" The smile you had fallen in love with so long ago shaped his lips. The first thing you had ever seen on Kalim, the first thing you ever noticed. "Of course. Always." It nearly felt like tears formed at the corners of your eyes. That night you did everything he said. You ate and drank and danced your fill all the way till sunrise where you finally relented and bid the prince goodnight, retiring to your Scarabian room.

Bonus: Kalim walked you over to his treasure room after finishing a dance, opening the door to show you inside. "Y/N, do you like anything you see? You can have it!" You blinked for a few moments, eyes blinded by the light reflecting off the gold and precious stones. You couldn't help but nervously laugh. I think there's enough riches here to last a few lifetimes. "Kalim... I appreciate the offer, but I think I'm good. If anything, let's leave before I break something!" You grabbed his arm to walk out and shut the door. "What if something is cursed in there?" "We've had Jamil check all the treasure already!"

First date:

Kalim wasn't done wooing you, not by a long shot. He was excited to show you a new side of him. Yes, he was still your innocent prince, but he could be a gentleman, too. You'd think he picked up a thing or two from the King courting so many ladies he saw growing up. But the first date wasn't something you'd expect. You thought maybe another dinner or walk along the park, sure, but he had actually planned something way more fun. What better way to cool off than a pool party for two? He had invited you during the day this time. Now you understand why he asked you to bring a swimsuit. "Oasis maker!" You both splashed and swam around for hours in a giant pool with a slide and fountains surrounding it. Were there also water guns? Absolutely. Water balloons? Yes. "Y/N? Y/N... Y/N!" Kalim frantically looked around, seeing you nowhere in the pool, seemingly disappeared under water. He began to worry before you suddenly grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him down with you. "Got ya!" You two laughed while continuing water tag. It was the most fun you had since arriving to NRC, to say the least. The day ended with your favorite foods for dinner and a warm bath with special salts and oils Kalim had asked to be brought from his home that was good for the skin.

First time holding hands:

It was the end of the day as you two were walking home from class, discussing topics on magic and such when Kalim bumped into you by accident while a student ran past him. The both of your hands brushed against each other from the movement, which elicited a faint blush against his cheeks. He immediately apologized and asked if you were okay, but something else was on your mind. "I'm alright, really. It's okay." You decided to go for it and grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers together. "But I like this better." You smiled at him; Kalim gulped, blood rushing to his head. He'd never held hands with someone— he'd never actually even been romantic until meeting you. You felt him move his fingers a bit, feeling your skin to make sure the girl before him was real. Her skin is so soft. Her hands are so delicate... she's so wonderful, everything about her. You felt him tighten his hold more confidently while you both continued to walk. "You make me so happy, Y/N." Now you were the one blushing. The cute moments between you two were never-ending. From that moment on Kalim would get more comfortable with holding your hand, eventually doing it regularly every time you two walked together, proudly showing off his one-and-only.

First kiss:

You and Kalim were watching the sunset together at his dorm after having finished studying together. Something about seeing the pink skies meet at the horizon with dunes of sand that went on forever was a breathtaking sight. You leaned your head on his shoulder, placing your hand on top of his. It was just you two, a calm silence enveloping you both with the occasional sound of sand being swept by the wind. "Kalim, this view never ceases to amaze me." You felt your eyes close for a moment to try and mentally recreate the landscape so you could remember it forever. "You're right. Back at home, the skies are even clearer and brighter, it's more beautiful believe it or not. If you look from outside the city, you see the palace outline the sky. At night, colored lights and song illuminate the city." As he describes the Scalding Sands you feel more joy fill your heart before he pauses. You look up to see why he stopped, only to realize Kalim is looking back at you. "But none of that compares to you." Kalim's eyes are so tender, his little smile on his face, cheeks a rosy red again. Before you can think the proximity of both of your faces makes you lean in to kiss him. If you didn't think his face could get any redder, think again. While there's practically fumes coming out his ears, he releases for a second to compose himself before going in to kiss you again. Your lips aren't like anything he could have ever imagined before. So soft, sweet. It's nearly addicting to him. Only after you release this time do you realize how flustered he gets again, looking away shyly, looking back again, looking away, apologizing.

First time cuddling:

There was a separate lounge area that was meant for only Kalim. You and him would spend most of your time together there. On a particularly chilly night as you two had stayed up together talking, you decided to get closer to your boyfriend for some warmth. Pillows and blankets surrounded you, but something about leaning against him just felt better. Kalim wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in closer. "If you're cold we can go inside. I can have some tea be prepared." "No, it's alright, really. I like it this way." You snuggled closer. Closer... closer... a little more— now you're right where you want to be. It's warmest like this anyways, laying on top of his chest. You can hear his heart fluttering rapidly at the proximity of you two. He eventually relaxed a bit, leaning his chin on your head to hug you with both arms this time. While you decided to tiredly continue your conversation, before you knew it you had dozed off into sleep. Kalim grabbed a nearby blanket to cover you, while the warmth of your own body had him dozing off before he realized it, too. You both soundly slept together, cuddled up under the wall in a corner where you two stayed until morning. Kalim was the first to wake up, realizing he had slept in his lounge with you, but didn't make a sound to let you continue sleeping on top of him. How could he wake you when you looked so cute? Kalim ran his fingers through your hair, admiring you, fixing the blanket whenever you would move, watching your chest rise and fall with your breath. He didn't care if his back was numb, it was worth it if it meant seeing his princess like this.

First carpet ride:

"If you get scared, just tell me! Hold on, Y/N!" He lifted off the ground slowly before picking up some speed. "We're flying! kalim this is unbelievable!" You looked in awe at the blue skies and puffs of clouds that you both were directly under. Kalim made sure to keep the pace slow and steady for you, but enough to feel the wind glide against your face. You held him tighter, afraid at first, but eventually relaxed to release your arms and raise them high to feel the cool, crisp air. You saw flocks of birds, the rays of sun hitting against the sand below, tiny oasis's, the dorm. It felt ethereal. "Are you ready?" Kalim looked back at you before you quickly held onto him again. "For wha- aaaaahh!" You both suddenly dived nearly reaching the ground before flying back up again even higher. You gasped feeling air fill your lungs, yelling in excitement and fear. He went through clouds this time, doing a few tricks by turning in circles. You'd never experienced thrill like this, it was exfiltrating. When he finally turned to go back to the dorm he went at relaxing pace to let you enjoy the view one last time. "Can we stay up here?" You held your lover close while admiring the endless blue. "We can come up as often as you would like, how about that?" "Thank you." You leaned in to give your boyfriend a kiss.

First time visiting his home:

A merchant approached you, a man who's head was wrapped in a white turban. "My dear, have a look. See, this jewel is one of a kind! How about this vase? I have just the thing! This is a magic lamp." Kalim kindly shook his head, pulling you closer by the hand. "No thank you, sir, really, we don't need it. Sorry!" He hurried along down the bazar. He had disguised himself as a regular civilian; Kalim never really snuck out in the past, if he needed to go somewhere he simply went with Jamil, but since meeting you he wants to save these special moments for only him and his lover. Of course, Jamil didn't know about this as you had sneaked away from him while you travelled to the Scalding Sands for the weekend. You tried taking in all the sights while walking down the packed streets. Stalls were lined up full of foods, fruits, textiles, pottery, jewelry, anything and everything. The smell of spices, hot, dry air and cacophony of noises created a lively environment. People bustled along, street performers sang of old legends, camels stood with crates of good on their backs. You both then walked into a more secluded alleyway beneath the stone walls. "Kali- I mean... what was your name again?" You whispered. Kalim laughed, looking down the road again to decide on where you'd go next. "Never mind that. Come on, let's go to the palace before Jamil hypnotizes me and you and forces us to stay in our rooms for the whole stay!" You and Kalim then hurried along. "Wait till you see the palace! And meet my siblings! We can come back out at night to see the fireworks." All of this was so great, it was a whole new world for you. When you arrived at the palace gates Kalim took off his head scarf so they'd quickly let him in. Naturally he got an ear full from Jamil for leaving, but he was quickly interrupted by the waves of family that poured in to greet Kalim and his partner. You were nervous at first, but the warmth and hospitality of the Asim's made you realize where Kalim got his kindness from. You were immediately welcomed by everyone and spent the night being showered in gifts, with great feasting and celebrating. Once you and your partner were alone again he took the opportunity to lead you to the highest point in the palace, a tower where you could see the whole of the Scalding Sands. The view was more than just breath-taking, It was other-worldly. you looked at Kalim lovingly, wondering how you could ever meet such a perfect person. "I love you." You leaned in to give him a kiss. Kalim pulled you in by the waist before his promised fireworks started, illuminating the night sky.

"Hey, I wonder if that magic lamp was real?" "Let's go find out!"

[rollofleaf]

WIP Wednesday

I didn't end up finishing the AU stuff, but here's what I did write.

Arueshalae pulled her jacket tight over her frame, politely waving away the man that tried to buy her a drink. She was at this club to disappear into the background and enjoy being around mortals, not to be reminded of how most of them saw her. She briefly considered disappearing more properly, but the man took ‘no’ for an answer and no one else seemed to notice her, so there was little need. Alcohol was never a good idea for someone like her that already struggled to control herself, but thankfully the small club had lemonade for her to sip. She came here often to simply be, to observe mortals and get used to being around them without hurting them. And the music was usually nice, too.

It was a band she hadn’t heard today, and both Arueshalae and the rest of the club’s eyes were immediately drawn to the woman that stepped on-stage. She was a brown-skinned aasimar, with peach-colored hair and a wild look to her. She was fit and athletic, and Arueshalae had an excellent view of her muscled form since her only clothes were ripped jeans and pasties over her nipples. Accompanying her was a scrawny tiefling in similarly ripped jeans and a leather jacket that left most of his chest bare. He carried an electric guitar and had his hair messy and disheveled. Next was a dark-skinned human man on drums, who had a more put-together look. He was in shorts and a simple polo, and though he had clearly mussed up his hair it was naturally straight and well-kempt. Finally was the bassist, a dark-skinned human woman in a rather dapper blazer.

They took a short while to test their instruments and the microphone while the buzz of conversation continued. Arueshalae busied herself with just watching them. She tried not to stare at the aasimar woman’s lack of an outfit, instead taking in how she and the tiefling traded jokes and laughs. They all seemed like such good friends… Arueshalae wondered what that was like.

At last, the aasimar cleared her throat into the microphone. “Good evening, we are Hilde and the Butterflies. I’m Hilde, these are the Butterflies.” She had a soft, subdued voice, not what Arueshalae expected of a singer. “Ah-one, two, three, four-“ What followed was a single note from each instrument and a heavy metal growl so loud, primal, and boneshaking it nearly knocked Arueshalae and the rest of the club off their feet. How such a soft voice was even capable of making such a sound was a mystery, but after that they had everyone’s attention. “Thank you, that was ‘Awake at 5 a.m.’ This next song is called ‘Another Road’.”

Arueshalae braced herself for another roar, but what came instead was an upbeat, relaxed melody, accompanied by that gentle voice. The music quickly faded into the background of conversation and food for most, but Arueshalae found herself unable to tear her gaze away. There was such joy in the singer and her words, every break in the lyrics was punctuated with a giggle from Hilde.

“I looked in myself,

And staring back was someone else”

Occasionally one of the other bandmates would chime in to help with vocals, and they seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as Hilde. What was it about the music that made her heart soar?

“But now my heart feels so brand new,

I found a friend for life in you…”

Arueshalae had a soft smile on her thin lips throughout the performance. She took in the beauty, the love these people shared for their music and each other. Love she’d never experience… But the music made her forget that bit for a while. Alas, far too soon it was over. How long had she been staring? A quick glance at the clock and she flushed in embarrassment at spending a full hour like that.

As their final song came to a close, the tiefling leaned into the mic. “Thank you, thank you. Check us out on Spotify, we have merch online…” With that, they started to pack up their instruments and slip out. Arueshalae tensed up. How badly she wanted to talk to them, but what if she messed up? Finally, she could take it no longer. She sprinted outside just as the band was leaving.

[omerflorent]

who: @conallblackbar what: while in the westerlands omer visits with the men in the camps coming across many of the clover folk including his blackbar cousin.

"The best thing in nature for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. And boys I have wondered if lightning and thunder were made from the plunder of whisky me boys."

It was the clearest sign the folks of the clover had found a fire to sit around and have their talks. And in the dark of night in the Westerlands, in the dense camps of knights and lords; high and petty alike, found a common love in their lives. One that Omer himself struggled to separate himself from and yet, the need was a craving he found himself giving into more and more. What started as a sip from a friends glass turned into this. His wife knew there would be at least one he would spend with boys around the fire and still, there was a guilt that came with it.

It always started fun. And then it came with everything else. The next song started and he didn't know what it was because he was somewhere else now. He was standing in the solar of Brightwater staring his father in the face. 'Why don't you love, father? What have I done?' 'I love you, son. I don't like ya. I regret ya. And ya only saving grace is ya mother.' All happening as Gilbert Hightower blubbered in the corner and his father drew on him. And he would have killed him if Omer the feeling of being dumbfounded to keep him stuck in place.

Omer stood up and he almost fell over, and as he steadied himself he backed away from the laughter, what was he doing? Mourning a man who ... Omer no longer knew. A man held together but string and armor. A man so fragile that a strong breeze could erase who remained.

"What do you want Conall Blackbar?" Omer looked over his shoulder as he struggled to reach into the sliver case on his waist, finally just pulling it off and taking out a smoke.

[accihoe]

This Time I'm In It For Love Part 1

Player is one of my favourite bands, so here's a little something based off one of their songs.

Pairing: 70s! Bucky x hippie f!reader

Summary: Bucky falls in love with the woman his parents warned him about, but what was their warning really for?

Warnings: I think perhaps slightly rebellious? Vietnam war. War and injuries mentioned.

A/n: PLEASE do not steal my work. Please. I work hard on this and am really excited for about the works even if my Bucky works hardly get appreciated.

xxxx

"I thought hippies stopped existing after Woodstock." A voice sounded behind her. "You must be living under a rock then." She turned around with a smile. Her stomach flipped at the sight of the handsome stranger, in military uniform with several badges adorning his lavish blazer. Crystal clear, but emotionally bruised baby blues stared at her own eyes. Tidy brown hair under an army cap, left arm in a sling. His pink lips curved into a small smile. Little did she know his own stomach swirled at the sight of her. Her warm smile, long hair flowing in the breeze, her very bohemian attire, dazzling eyes, the sun casting a hue on her gorgeous skin.

"You doin' drugs out here?" He mocked. "No sir, just admiring the vast landscape of nature." She smiled, turning back and leaning against the balcony again. He stood next to her, eyes also landing on the vast beauty. "I see now why. I'm James." He said. "Nice to meet you, James. I'm Y/N." She smiled. And the friendship bloomed. He'd gotten her landline, and address. She didn't get his as he was mostly at war. But the day he had to go back for a long, if not permanent period broke his and her hearts. His family had somewhat disowned him for associating with a hippie, and she'd departed from her own (on a good note and still in touch with them) to pursue her dreams.

"I'm going to miss you Bucky." She said, squeezing him tightly. "Please write to me." She gave him another squeeze. He stayed silent. Y/N could physically feel and emotionally see how the war was damaging Bucky, and each encounter with him he'd seem to be more gone. She'd catch him staring off several times, and flinching easily. She'd laid her hand on his shoulder once when he was staying in her home, and he instantly pulled into defence and grabbed the nearest "weapon" to him, only relaxing once his brain registered who'd touched him. At the train station they stood in each other's embrace. A hippie hugging a soldier. Her dress flowed elegantly in the cool breeze, and Bucky buried his face into her shoulder, inhaling her scent.

She kissed his cheek before he left. In the train he wondered to himself how many men she'd been with, regarding her identification as a hippie. But little did he know she'd been with none in the ways most of her traveling girl friends have had. Yes she'd been in love before, but not like with Bucky. With each shot fired, and each bullet dodged, Bucky felt as if he weren't in his body. His mind was never really present, just his instincts. His brain would only register that he'd dodged a bullet several seconds after he'd done so. But alas, she was his muse. He kept going with the thought that maybe if he made it back from the war he'd get her to be his girl. They'd date for a while, get engaged, then get married and move in together, hopefully even have a couple of kids together. But most of all he wished he could show his family her true beauty, that she's not a stereotypical drug addict alley cat.

The day that the war was declared over many beamed with joy. The war was a brutal one and many lost their lives in honour of their country. Y/N read the newspaper in anticipation, heart sinking when they didn't offer a list of names of the lost or survivors. She went to the same station she last met him at. She wore her best dress. She baked his favourite cookies. And she waited for the train to arrive. She watched soldiers run to their families, some limping, kids running to their fathers, families welcoming home their sons. She felt bad for James that he had basically given up his family for her. That made her think as he heart grew heavier and heavier upon not seeing him climb off the train. Was he in love with her? She mentally coaxed herself a little, reminding herself that there would be a second train and perhaps a third.

But by the time the second train arrived it was nearing noon. She still did not see him. The sun was getting closer to setting as the third train arrived. Her hope shrunk more and more as nearly everyone had departed from the train and she still did not see him. Until finally, she saw him.

James was supposed to arrive on the first train, and his mother had sent a letter saying that at least she'll be there. But he missed the train because of an injury that needed desperate attention. When he rushed to the second train it was full. So he had to wait in the scorching sun for the third. His hopes were crushed as he knew that his mother and whoever came along would not wait until after sunset for him, who disappointed them. Yet he did not regret befriending Y/N. He wondered where she was on his way back home. He hadn't received a letter from her or sent a letter to her in months. When he arrived at the station his heart was in his throat. Ready to be mortified upon his sole arrival and nobody there to receive him, but then he saw her. His suitcase dropped from his hand as he saw her running toward him. His arm that wasn't in a sling wrapped around her as her own arms encircled his waist. His forehead dropped to her shoulder as he took in her all-too-familiar scent that he'd missed so dearly.

"I thought I'd be arriving to past due rent and an angry landlord." James joked. She giggled and squeezed him tighter before pulling away and scanning his face, noting his sunken in eyes and dimmed orbs. But he was still her James. "Well whether or not that awaits you, you've got me by your side." She said, cupping his cheek and stroking his bruised cheekbone with her thumb tenderly. Little did they know that to the left of them an elderly woman stood observing them, a woman by the name of Winnifred Barnes. The mother who'd waited all day for her son because despite his slight rebellion, she now understood he did it for love. A mother who loved him regardless and promised she'd be there to see her oldest and only son arrive back home from serving his country in a brutal war. "I've got a surprise for you." Y/N smiled as he picked up his bag. James opened his mouth to speak as they started walking away but someone called for them.

"Excuse me." The woman smiled faintly but lovingly. "Ma.." James breathed in unbelief. The elder woman's eyes welled at the sight of her son. "My boy... you're home.." She said, cupping his face. She squeezed him in a tight hug and James put down his suitcase again, hugging her back. Y/N stood to the side with a small and proud smile. "Pardon me for rudely interrupting but I just had to greet my James." Winnifred smiled. "Not at all, ma'am. Jamie has been excited for this day for as long as we've been friends." Y/N reassured with a warm smile. "You know I was wrong about you, I assumed you'd drag James down but instead you lifted him up. And I apologize for making the wrong assumptions about you without getting to know you first. Welcome to the family, dear." Mrs Barnes pulled the younger girl into a tight hug.

"You know I could sense something different about James the day he met you. Even in letters I could tell that he was a lovesick boy." Winnifred said once they'd pulled away, causing both James and Y/N to blush. "Maaa" James whined. "I must get going, but please, feel welcome to visit us at any given time. The both of you." The elder woman smiled before rushing off to her car. "So now that the truth's out... you mentioned a surprise for me. Was that by any chance a kiss?" Bucky tried his luck. Y/N rolled eyes with a fond smile, "No. But now that I know your heart's intentions I suppose you could request one." She grinned and the pair walked off.

xxxx

Part 1 fin. Hope you liked it.

Gif not mine credit to the owner.

[slickchickchocolatier]

HHP- Chapter 14 Part 1 *pls read caption before reading!!!

I swear we are getting to the good parts. This chapter alternates between present time and flashbacks. Text in purple are the lyrics. It is IMPERATIVE that you listen to the song (maybe even on repeat if the chapter takes longer to read) as you read each part of this chapter bc it’s going to give you the experience of what I felt as I drafted this.

no warnings…for now.

Chapter 14 - Ethan

…………………

“Do you want her?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well then babygirl…” with a tender and sickening kiss on her head, he grins with an intriguing and admiring bite on his lower lip and raises his eyebrows. 

“go get her.”

Woah

Again, chaconne now

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

As the early morning drew near, the sun, not even awoke from its nightly slumber, remained stagnant beneath the earth as his darkened and dimmed frat room, lit only be her twinkling voice as she hums, is graced by the beauty of his Eden. 

Dancing and twirling in the open space, carefree and delicate with her movements, she rotates her hips, elegantly raising her arms as her hand drapes down her forearm. Looking down at the floor with an alluring expression, she softly releases a soft and lustful breath through the dainty opening of her lips. 

Elegant, flowing, and perfect, each twisting rotational curve of her hips stirs him from the inside and out. 

‘Perfection.’ 

Walking in through the hall, peeking in through the wide open door, he drags the tips of his finger tips along the wall of the corridor that leads him to her, staining a trail of blood along the way. 

Through the opening, he witnesses the beauty of his creation. 

She’s everything. She is the sense of sight, smell, taste, and sound to him, without her, he has absolutely nothing to live for.

Looking back into the past, when he first saw you, he fell…..hard. 

Any decent and reserved part of him fell from Heaven that day. He fell, right into the burning pits of Hell, thus, he became the Devil himself. 

Taking advantage of fate, he played the role of God and decided his own path as he took advantage of your despair and got you. Ahh…life was good the moment he got you. 

Then, through the twisted dance of pleasure he forced into you as you squirmed, yelled, screamed, and struggled through, he holds you down, restraining you against your movements for freedom, and made you take the peak of pain along with the fire of his passion. 

Never did it cross his mind that the unthinkable would happen…

‘Eden.’ 

A castle shaded from the sun

Sensually-intimate scent despite withering

Kiss the dead flowers

My kiss with a nice scent

Yes, Eden was born, through his discretion. He created her, though it was not intentional or at all planned, it wasn’t even imaginable for him. He would have never believed the occurrence of that night to take place the way it did. 

But it did…and was he ever so pleasantly surprised by her accidental birth. 

The moment she awoke, gazing into his half dark and twisted expression as a part of Heeseung was remaining within his being, they both took in the shock, confusion, and joy as they stare in awe…

She wakes up, gazing into him. She takes her first breath. 

Admiring her creator, just as a baby bird recognizes it’s mother as she takes in flight to feed her chirping youngling, Eden smiles and renders complete loyalty and obedience to her creator. He was her lover, her husband, her soulmate, her…’daddy’. 

‘Look at her…I’ve never seen anything more wholesome and immaculate. Look at what I’ve created…a monster…like me….how beautifully perfect. I think I’ll call her….Eden. My Eden. My beautiful paradise.’ 

Upon realizing, that not only does he have you, but he now has his Eden. He understood that he had a whole other version of himself through your eyes. What a wonderful feeling to know that by transforming you, to instill and force you to develop a dark and twisted side within your otherwise pure, pastel colored and loving nature, he would have the love and commitment he was yearning to give, and to have it returned to him in the same manner on how he communicated and understood love. 

How he communicated and understood love. 

What has he done to you? Your bright and light personality, loving and filled with the scent of summer and spring, was now split, with one half painted harshly with strokes and splatters of dark crimson red and violet. A side that contained sultry rage, and black velvet that chokes out all the pure warmth that you were born with. What has he done to you? Pure, sweet, well mannered, and the ever good natured y/n. What has…he done to you? 

With the fires of Hell, he burns down the gardens of Heaven, taking out every single sunflower, babies breath, and cherry blossoms. Turning them to ash, he fertilizes and grows deep red roses to take their place. 

Brighter than the sun

That's just me

Monster, even if you call me

I don't even care

Yes, he was happy and complete the night he took you. The night he made you his, and made Eden.

‘Fuck the higher powers that be. I’ll decide my own future and fate. I will take her. I will have her. I will keep her.’ 

He did, and he was already eternally happy. Yet, the moment he realized he now had Eden, along with you…Heaven and Hell all in one? How Perfect. 

Reaching the entrance of his room, Ethan stares through, admiring the viper that elegantly displayed her dance through her own ballet. With a tinge of blood staining her hands, a bit of it streaked down her neckline, all adorning her as she dances for him, he couldn’t help but fall hard once more. She was just…

‘Ah…you’re the most beautiful thing in this world.’

Walking in, without breaking his gaze on her, Ethan reaches behind and shuts the door with his blood stained hands.

Flashback - 

Sitting inside the car, Jake feels the vibration of a text message coming in. Barely glancing at it, he reaches inside his pocket and takes out a satin black sash. 

‘How did I know that I was going to need this tonight? Heh.’ 

He smirks in thought. 

Leaning over to Emily, she looks up with wide-eyes and confusion. 

She recognizes that shiny and smooth fabric. It was something that he would often carry around with him, for moments whenever he felt that he needed her, that he wanted her, when he felt like instilling the pleasures of sexual dominance, which completely counteracted his bubbly and friendly demeanor that he normally displayed. 

That emergence of that sash was a reflected state of him that no one else saw, but her.  

But why was he taking it out now of all times? 

‘You don’t need to see a single thing from here on out, my pretty little doll…’ 

He narrows his eyes as he speaks in mental note. 

He wraps and covers her eyes delicately, so tenderly, as he holds her chin and gives her a small kiss on the tip of her nose. The scent of his cologne, smokey birch along with a hint of cinnamon…that scent of his…so unique…so warm that it slightly…burns. 

“Wait here. Don’t move until I come get you, and keep your pretty eyes covered. Understand?” 

His voice low and in slow, steady tempo, installing a chill, no, it was beyond a chill. It was so cold that it felt as if she was being stabbed in the back. It was even lower than how he spoke when they were intimate. 

Nodding subtly in a confused and scared state, he kisses her once more. 

“Grrrrrrrrrrr…”  The dog growls. 

She was used to it, it was his signature flare whenever he was about to instill the torment of pleasure to her. She was so used to that feeling. It scared her. It thrilled her. It…loved and embraced her. 

Eyes covered, her sight rendered to the silk that drapes over her face, Emily hears the sound of his car door opening, she feels the weight of his form leaving as the car redistributes it’s own upon losing his density. 

Hearing his footsteps reach toward the back, he opens the trunk to his car. Though it was faint, she could make out the clinking sound from outside…

‘Glass bottles?’

Present - 

Dance for me forever

Look at me in the broken And tune it with the feet

This beautiful moment I don't stop

Woah, again, chaconne now

Eden pivots and gently spins; she performs delicate steps as she watches her Ethan coming to her. Admiring her performance as she dances a Volta for him. 

Only for him. 

He draws nearer and nearer…

“God, you’re beautiful…” he remarks with his eyes wide, as if he was riddled with immense excitement while he bit down on his lip once more. 

Raising his had at waist level, his palm facing the sky, he motions his two fingers to her, telling her to come to him. With her master and creator bidding her, as always, she obeys and goes to him. 

“Yeeeeeeah…come to daddy.” He whispers lowly as he motions his fingers, eager to get his hands on her once she steps close enough. 

With the soaring pain that pounded at her womanhood, all due to her desire for him to be inside, she bids to her master. 

“Ethan…”

“Yeeeeees? My pretty little Eden.” 

“It hurts…” she whispers softly, grazing her finger tips over her collar bone.

“Tell daddy where it hurts, baby.”

“Everywhere…inside.”

“Do I need to kiss it to make it all better?”

“Yesssss…”

“Well, come to daddy then.”

Dance for mе, like you're drunk and fascinated by mе

I just wanna dance on, can't stop it

This is my world in the dark

Woah, again, chaconne now

Once she closed the distance half way, Ethan grabs on to his beautiful monster. So beautiful and yet…so much more monstrous than even him. And he knew, he was pretty fucked up in the head, especially after tonight. But he’s always know that. He’s always known that he was the side of himself, of his Heeseung self, that was suppressed and put away, only to be used for ‘special’ occasions. Though he was still surprised at how far he was willing to go, all for the sake of his love, yourself….and your Eden self. 

Pinning her arms to her frame, Ethan’s hands reaches forth, grabs, and pulls her in quickly. Like a snake striking its bite, Ethan was steady and quick. Just the way she liked it. 

A rattlesnake. A viper. A poisonous serpent that stared at her through a pair of black iris slits. 

With such immense force and strength, the man effortlessly, and easily, pulls her into a deep and hungry kiss. It was like snapping his fingers, it was so easy for him to push, pull, lift, and turn you however he wanted you….or rather, your Eden side. 

Feasting on her, Ethan satisfies his hunger through his kiss…

‘Mmmm…she tastes so good…I want….MORE.’

Woah-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh

Again, chaconne now

Woah-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh

Chaconne now

Biting her lip down, he pinched his teeth with her flesh in between. A piercing yelp escapes her, only for him to swallow it and savor the taste along with the delicate rush of blood he slurped and licked off. It was like fine wine to him. The rusty taste of iron as he licked and savored every drop that emerged from the wound. 

Her eyes, glossed over with immense moisture from the pain, begin to stream down as she watches him pull his head back away just slightly, smirking as his lips become stained bright red from his bite. 

“You taste even better like this….” Growling under his breath, deep and low, he speaks out as he tightens his grip on Eden. 

“Let me eat you.”

A chill creeps, pulls, and snaps at her. Hearing his words in that deep tone, along with his growls and that wide-eyed, sinister glare he was giving her, as if he was encouraging her to say ‘yes’ as he tilts his face, leans in more to her, and bites his lip. 

“Say yes. Let me devour you. Let me eat you alive, Eden.”

Trembling and yet, smiling, with a tinge of worry in her eye as she chuckles and displays a heart warming grin back, she nods. 

“Eat me…Ethan….eat…”

Death doesn't concern me

Just me and this scent

A splendid flowery taste

Only party for me

****authors notes: I promise we’re going to get to what happened with tiff and Scott. I promise. For now, we have part 1. Part 2 (possibly 3??) will be posted later today and ch 15 will probably be tomorrow.

[cobbssecondbelt]

Dincember 2023 - Day 17: Joy

It was a peaceful evening. The sun was descending slowly, unhurried as he painted the grass hills into a see of gold. The weather was gentle, almost conscientious, and so was nature all around, quiet as too not wake the baby.

This very morning, the Djarin family had welcomed a long-awaited gift.

Here they were, sitting in the living room after this blurry haze of a day. A day that was supposed to come weeks ago already, yet still took them by surprise when it finally arrived.

‘’How is he?’’ Remi whispered as he returned from the kitchen with a glass of fresh water.

‘’Still asleep.’’ Polla murmured back. She accepted the glass with a thankful smile and took a careful sip as to not wake the newborn in her arms. She swayed slowly in the rocking chair with a long breath.

Remi leaned over the back of the chair to embrace his wife tenderly, rocking with the rhythm of the chair. He planted an absent kiss on her head, lost in thoughts and floating on the high of too many hours of anxious pacing finally coming to an end. At least, for now.

‘’We should find a name for him.’’ He said.

Polla hummed in agreement. As she was about to reply, the baby made a sound, tiny and weak yet enough to bring them both back to full awareness in an instant. His tiny face scrunched up in a frown that didn’t mean anything, though one day would be the expression of a fussy infant, the grimace of a playful child, the grin and creased eyelids of a laughing man.

‘’Well, hello, you.’’ His mother cooed in adoration as he opened his eyes slowly, revealing irises still dark as coal and foggy with barely acquired awareness.

‘’Aren’t you a wonder…’’ Remi murmured. He leaned over and caressed the boy’s tiny head, petting his tuft of thin dark hair. ‘’And you have your mama’s eyes.’’

Since Remi met Polla, he learned a lot about magic. They were still children when he first saw her, and all he knew about the mystical ways of the galaxy was the songs and tales he'd heard from his parents. He didn’t know much about her family, only that she came from a long lineage and that the gift in her hands had been passed down from mother to daughter for all those generations. He had seen her do many things he would never quite understand, heal the unhealable, talk to those no one else could hear, and today, bring their most beautiful creation into the world.

And then he saw his son smile for the first time, and he knew he had some of that magic, too.

‘’He has your smile.’’ Polla said with gleaming eyes. She grinned down at her child. ‘’Our own little bundle of joy, aren’t you? Happy soul, just like your papa.’’

Remi smiled. He was a Djarin; it was in his blood.

Joyful was a Djarin’s way of life.

There was a word, in old Vetinian dialect, he had heard quite a few times used by the elders. A word celebrating the resilience of one’s nature, the power of will and honesty towards oneself. A good luck charm, assuring the best in a family would always be passed down.

‘’How about Din?’’

Polla did not reply right away. Then, slowly, her smile returned.

‘’Din.’’ She tested the name, then nodded, visibly satisfied in the way it rolled off her tongue. ‘’It’s perfect.’’

Remi felt his chest swell up with a foreign form of warmth as he looked down at their no-longer nameless child. He stared into those already closing eyes, and it felt right.

‘’Welcome home, Din Djarin.’’