#yeah okay cool I painted this pretty word picture

[neon-danger]

Me writing myself into corners every three paragraphs

[godsfavdarling]

watching him

part of him (one-shot series), my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader summary: You help Spencer wash his curls properly. words: 1,2k warnings: most self indulgent fluff you have ever read, nudity/bathing together, maybe a bit suggestive but still sfw, no y/n a/n: I was in the shower and famously I have the same hair type and color as mgg and we would absolutely share our routine.

Spencer's head tilted toward you, giving you better access to his tangled brown strands. 

Your fingers, maybe a bit too roughly, moved through his scalp, detangling with a kind of focused care you hadn’t realized you were capable of.

You sat facing each other in the cramped bathroom, your legs tucked on either side of his while his stretched out around you, creating a tight but strangely comfortable space between you.

You couldn't help but watch him intently. 

With his eyes closed, unaware of your gaze, he looked almost ethereal—peaceful in a way you rarely got to see. 

His wet curls framed his face, softening his features, and the dim light of the bathroom made him look even more serene. 

There was something mesmerizing about watching him like this, when he couldn't catch you staring, when he couldn't see the way you studied every detail.

He looked so pretty, so effortlessly beautiful, that you let yourself indulge, longer than you should, in the quiet act of watching him.

“This smells nice,” he murmured, his eyes squeezed shut to shield them from your movements and the severe foam you created. His voice was soft, almost drowsy. 

He didn’t say anything more, but you caught the faintest hint of pleasure in his tone. 

Maybe he enjoyed this. Maybe he liked having his hair tugged. You made a mental note of that.

“I don’t really like this one much,” you admitted, scrunching your nose at the scent as you continued working the product through his hair.

“Really?” he asked, his brows furrowing slightly. His eyes remained closed, but the slight upward tilt of his head suggested curiosity.

“Yeah. It’s too intense. I liked it at first, but now it’s overwhelming.”

“I still like it. It smells like you,” he replied, his voice low and steady.

Not water related heat rushed through your body. 

You suddenly became hyper-aware of how close you were. 

You resumed your careful work on his curls, trying to focus, but it wasn’t easy.

You never thought you’d enjoy this so much. You hated washing your own hair, but washing his? It felt like a sweet dessert, a perfect indulgence after the cozy dinner you’d shared on the couch.

Your thighs kept brushing against his in the tight confines of the tub, sending a slow, torturous fever through your veins.

As if that weren’t enough, his hands found your knees at some point, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your skin. 

He wasn’t making your task any easier.

You fought to keep your breath steady, your heart from racing out of control. You tried to play it cool, as if having him this close, this intimate, wasn’t driving you to the edge.

Is this what it felt like? 

Is this how you know the bond with him is real? Maybe it wasn't an accident after all. 

You've felt like you dreamed Spencer into existence, like he stepped out of the picture you'd been painting in your mind since childhood. 

You felt like you dreamed him up .

And one day, there he was—alive, right in front of you, as if he'd always been meant to be.

And now you were squeezed together in your tiny bathtub on a Friday night, showing him how to take care of his curls. 

“Okay, I’m going to rinse out the shampoo now. Don’t open your eyes,” you warned.

“They’re still closed,” he assured, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

You carefully worked the water through his hair, rinsing away the foam while your fingers combed through his curls. You realized you might’ve been a little rougher than necessary. You gently squeezed the excess water from his hair.

“You have to get rid of the water like this,” you explained, gathering his hair and squeezing it upward in small sections. “Don’t straighten it out, just squeeze it up. Does that make sense?”

“I get it,” he said, his voice laced with quiet trust.

“You could do more complicated stuff, but your hair’s pretty gentle, so I think just shampoo and conditioner for curly hair will do the trick. Just... don’t brush it when it’s dry, okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated, nodding slightly.

“You only brush it when it’s really, really wet. Now for the conditioner.” You took the bottle and squeezed out what you deemed the right amount, showing it to him. “This should be enough.”

He nodded again, his head still hanging, eyes shut as the water ran over him. You carefully worked the conditioner into his hair. 

“You can brush through it if you need to, but don’t put any on your scalp. This one doesn’t need time to soak in, so we can rinse it right away.”

You gently massaged the conditioner through his curls before turning on the water again, running your fingers through his hair to ensure all the product was rinsed out.

You turned the water off and squeezed the excess water from his hair one last time.

Gently, you lifted his head, tugging it upward, and carefully pushed his damp curls away from his pretty face. 

As you brushed the hair from his forehead, his eyes blinked open, still sensitive to the bright bathroom light. 

His lashes were damp, and he rubbed at his eyes, finally releasing his hold on your knees. 

For a moment, you both just looked at each other.

There you were.

Both naked.

Taking care of each other.

What kind of dream was this?

Before you got to dwell on your life more Spencer broke the silence. 

“Now, my turn,” he said, his voice still soft but now filled with a teasing certainty.

You blinked, surprised. “What?”

“I’m going to wash your hair,” he clarified, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

There was even more warmth in his eyes than usual and a quiet determination you weren’t sure you could say no to.

“Spence, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” he said, already shifting in the tub to give himself a bit more space, motioning for you to turn around. “But I want to.”

You hesitated for a moment, the idea of letting him touch you in such a way—this close, this tender—sending a flutter of nervous excitement through your chest. 

“Okay,” you murmured as you turned around. 

You weren’t sure how much longer you could handle facing him now that his eyes were open.

You couldn’t take the way he looked at you. It felt too soft and too loving sometimes.

What did you do to deserve this? To deserve him?

For the sake of your own sanity, you shifted your focus to counting the tiles, letting the numbers steady your racing thoughts of him.

So close. So visible in the bathroom lighting.

His hands found their way to your shoulders first, steady and reassuring, before sliding up to your head. 

His fingers, surprisingly deft, massaged your scalp with slow, deliberate movements, while his other hand held the showerhead, gently wetting your hair. 

You hadn’t anticipated how good it would feel, how effortlessly the tension in your body would melt away under his careful touch.

“I’ll be gentle,” he murmured, his voice close to your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to him. Letting him watch you.

[nickssidewitch]

Chris’s Dilemma

Chris Sturniolo has a little crush on one of his YouTube peers Layla, whom he’d only met once before. But what will happen when they finally meet once again to film an episode of the Cut The Cameras podcast?

Warning: SMUT, Sneaky sex, Dom!Chris x Sub!OC (named Layla), p in v, Oral (Male-Receiving), Dry-Humping/Grinding, Doggystyle, Missionary

(if you read this part already, please read Part 2 here)

***

“Get your hand off the fucking napkin holder, Chris,” Nick demanded as he grabbed the object out of his brother’s hands. He placed it onto the table next to him, now further from Chris’s reach. “What are we, kindergarteners?”

Chris stretched his body over his other brother Matt in some way to pick up the napkin holder again, but Matt shoved him from his body, causing Chris to sit back into his seat and cross his arms. He pouted comically, but neither Matt nor Nick were amused.

“Stop being annoying,” Nick said as he glared at Chris. They were all at a pizza shop which was pretty packed, and he didn’t want his pizza experience to be ruined by his pestering brother.

“He’s gonna make us get kicked out or something,” Matt added nonchalantly, taking a sip of his own Pepsi afterwards. “I don’t know why you can’t just sit down and relax for two minutes.”

“I can relax for two minutes,” he shifted his body to Matt and fixed his posture, “Three even.”

“Okay, well why don’t you?” Before Chris could protest, Matt continued, “Starting now.”

Nick smirked. “As if Chris could stay still for 30 seconds. Remember how he acted at Larri’s birthday party?”

Matt nodded and said, “Mind you, we were sober, but you acted like you were wasted off of six shots of tequila.”

“Okay, is it ‘Bash Chris Day’ or something? I can’t have a little fun?” Chris responded, rolling his eyes and still feigning a pout onto his lips childishly.

But Matt simply sighed. “Not at our expense, no.”

Nick scrolled through his phone for a bit before he exclaimed, “Ugh, she’s so pretty. I love her fit here,” he said as he pointed at his screen to the picture of one of her outfits.

Chris wiped his mouth and took a glimpse at Nick’s phone, but he was unable to see who Nick was referring to. “Who?”

Nick turned his phone to show his brothers the Instagram picture.

Matt’s eyes focused on the picture for a second before recognizing the familiar face. “Oh, Layla? Yeah. Aw, is that her kitty?”

“Layla?” Chris' eyes widened a bit before he sipped his drink. “We met her at Larri’s party, right?”

Matt nodded. “She’s so cool. And guess what?”

There was a pause that silenced the space before Chris furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t like when you do that shit.”

Matt looked around confused. “What?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Fucking say ‘guess what?’ and pause for an answer like we’re in a fucking episode of Dora The Explorer. Just say what you wanna say.” He took a bite of his pizza as he finished his statement, and Nick could be heard chuckling from across the table.

Matt rolled his own eyes before biting his slice. “Anyways” he moved swiftly on, “Layla DMed me the day after the party and said she plays Pokemon Go!, so she added me as a friend. She sent me a Gift and-”

“I deadass do not give a fuck about your game, bro.” He paused to take a sip of his drink. “But it’s cool that you guys hung out a little.”

Nick’s eyes looked over at Chris, and he noticed the hint of scarlet painted on his cheeks. He never said a word though, as not to make Chris feel pressured to say how he felt in front of the two of them. He knew how Chris was when it came to girls that he liked. He didn’t want Chris to run away from someone again. So, he pocketed any questions he had about the way Chris felt about Layla to bring up for another time privately.

Instead, Nick started a new conversation. “Guys, you know how we haven’t had a guest on the podcast in a while?” The other boys nodded. “Well, I have a few options of who we could ask. I mean, I hate asking people, but at least these people are our friends. So, if they say no, we don’t have to feel awkward about it.”

Chris nodded his head. “True.”

Nick looked down at his phone and started to swipe, searching through his Notes app to bring up his list of potential guests. “Okay, so we have Vinnie Hacker first. We met him earlier this year and he seemed pretty cool.”

Matt chuckled under his breath. “The internet would fucking freak if he did a video with us.”

Chris sipped his Pepsi and smirked. “Just imagine the 4 Italian Stallions of the internet collabing. Wild.” His smirk began to shift to a big smile, but he noticed the two pairs of judging eyes coming from his brothers.

“Please don’t call us ‘Italian Stallions’ ever again in your life,” Nick said as he sighed. He began to go through his options again, listing a couple more influencers and a few singers and rappers that they had known until Nick finally landed onto Layla’s name. “Aaand since we brought her up before, maybe Layla. She DMed me saying that if we ever wanted to collaborate, she would be up for it. And she seems like such a sweet girl. Very opinionated, which is a plus.”

“Of course that’s a plus for you,” Matt interrupted Nick.

Nick sucked his teeth. “Okay, whatever that means. Should I text her back and ask if she’s willing to join us for this week’s pod?”

The other brothers gave each other a look before nodding in agreement. She was a Youtuber just like them. Her content was relatively similar in terms of doing random vlogs and videos with her family and friends, with the addition of makeup tutorials, fashion hauls, and other things. She would be a perfect fit.

Nick smiled. “Okay! I’ll text her right now!”, he stated and got straight to texting Layla.

“I hope she says yes,” Matt said. “Who knows? Maybe we can become friends.”

“Yeah,” Chris replied a bit dully. “Maybe.”

He hoped.

***

The boys got home later that evening and went into their respective rooms. Matt played Fortnite, Nick decided to do some editing for their next Youtube video and some computer storage cleaning, and Chris… Well, he was pacing back and forth in his room. Why was he doing this? He was thinking about Layla.

As said before, he and his brothers met Layla at Larri’s party a few weeks ago. Larri was the one who pulled her over to them, giving them her introduction in her place. She looked over at Chris, giving him the prettiest, yet shyest smile. She hugged each of his brothers, and for some reason, the hug between the two of them seemed longer than theirs. He wondered if she had done that on purpose.

Their conversation was a pretty decent one. Very normal. Flowed smoothly. Something that Chris didn’t really expect from influencers in LA. Usually, everyone in LA is trying to outdo everyone else around them, asking them things about their lives that they could probably use as ammunition later on if their “friendships” were in peril. He hated that shit so much.

But with Layla, she just felt genuine. She seemed like she wasn’t the type of person to put herself on a pedestal. She just seemed normal. That night at the party, she talked to them about normal things like what she liked to do in her spare time and that she wasn’t necessarily a party person anyway. Chris learned she was a few years older than him, was from North Carolina (thank God, another East-Coaster, he thought to himself, relieved), had some siblings, and had a black and white cat named Knight. He remembers her pretty-sounding, delicate voice telling her, “I would let you meet him one day,” ending her statement with the cutest, shyest chuckle.

And Layla was fucking gorgeous, too. Her deep brown eyes were warm and inviting. He couldn’t stop looking into them the night they met. She had the cutest little button nose, pretty lips, and a great sense of style that he honestly envied.

She was just so perfect. He didn’t know much about her personally yet, but he was absolutely ready to learn more.

Actually, was he ready? If he was actually ready, he wouldn’t be pacing back and forth in his room the way he was now. His heart wouldn’t be pounding the way it was now. He wouldn’t be trying to script what to say to her in his head right now. Fuck…

***

There was a knock on Nick’s bedroom door.

Nick took his headphones off and rested them around his neck. “Yes?”

“Hey,” Chris said to Nick as he slowly creaked the door open. “I just,” he sighed and shook his head to ease himself a bit, “I can’t sleep.”

Nick’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t question Chris any further. “You can come sleep with me,” he suggested, noticing the anxiety in his brother’s face as Chris opened his bedroom door. They had slept in the same room before, so this wasn’t any weird to him. He shuffled to one side of his bed to make room for Chris, clearing off anything on that side and placing it on his nightstand. “What’s wrong?”

Chris sighed. “I don’t know. I know I’m a bit anxious, I just don’t know what’s making me feel that way.” He couldn’t look up at Nick; something made him feel too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

Nick looked over at Chris with a concerned expression. “Did something happen? Did someone say something to you?”

Chris shook his head and sighed.

“Good, because I would’ve kicked their ass.” He thought for a moment before continuing. “Is there something coming up that you’re nervous about?”

His brother seemed to jump at the last question, as if he was caught red-handed. “Well, kinda-sorta.” Chris brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, a sort of self-soothing gesture.

“Kinda-sorta?” Nick chuckled. “What is it? The meeting with Laura tomorrow morning?”

“No…” Chris’s face hid in his knees. “The other thing tomorrow…”

Nick sat for a moment to think before suddenly remembering recording a podcast episode with Layla on that day. “The podcast episode with Layla?”

Chris nodded, still hiding his face. “Mhm.”

“What? Why?” Before Chris even responded, Nick’s memories suddenly flashed back to the time at the pizza shop. Chris seemed so smitten by her being brought up. The way his face reddened, the way he tried to seem not as interested as he actually was- it all made sense. And now was the time he could ask him about it.

“Chris…” He threw one of his arms around Chris’s upper back and placed the hand onto his shoulder, “I feel like I know why you’re so nervous about that.”

Chris’s head jolted from between his knees, and he brought his eyes to look into Nick’s, his eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. “Yeah, I like her. A lot. Which is weird because I’ve only met her once. But, I don’t even know how to express that. Do I even like her?”

Nick rubbed Chris’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re good. I understand what you’re saying.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Chris said, sighing as he leaned into Nick’s body.

“No, I’m not.” Nick paused. “Well, kinda? But, that doesn’t mean what you’re feeling is invalid.”

Chris didn’t respond.

Nick continued, “Listen, you liking her after meeting her in-person once isn’t a bad or weird thing. It’s just the way you feel, which is valid and genuine. I personally wouldn’t say you’re ‘in love’ with her yet. It’s a crush. But, you just need to talk to her to get to know her more. Maybe that will help you assess your feelings better.”

“But, how?” Chris silently yelled, throwing his arms down onto the mattress in frustration. “I can’t just walk up to her tomorrow and be like, ‘Hey, I think I like you, but I don’t really know yet. Can I please get to know you so that I can get back to you with updates later?’”

An imaginary lightbulb went off in Nick’s head. “I have an idea.”

Chris sighed. “Like what?”

Nick became giddy over the plan he had and immediately went into details. “Okay, so she’s coming over tomorrow. How about I find some way to make you guys spend time together? Alone. Without me and Matt.”

Chris looked at Nick puzzled. “How would that happen? Wouldn’t that be awkward?”

“Not if the excuse is reasonable!” Nick grinned.

Chris chuckled. “And what’s the excuse you have in mind?”

Nick scratched the back of his head, chuckling nervously as he processed Chris’s question. “I… uh… haven’t come up with one yet. But, when it does come up, trust me, it will be great!”

“Y’know what, Nick?” Chris smirked. That’s not that dumb of an idea.”

Nick smiled back. “I would prefer a ‘Nick, you’re such a mastermind’, but I guess this suffices.”

“Suffices?”

Nick’s smile immediately dropped and he rolled his eyes. “Ugh, just go to bed.”

“You’re not gonna cuddle with me?” Chris asked, pouting and making grabby-hands like a child that needed physical affection from their parents.

“What is up with you and pouting lately? And no, I’m doing something on my computer. You’ll be okay.”

Chris sighed and turned to face the other side of the room. He curled himself into a comfortable position, and managed to fall asleep soundly. That talk with Nick definitely calmed him down a bit.

Nick looked over to his brother and smiled, rubbing Chris’s back as he felt him sleep soundly. Fuck, I gotta think of the plan…, he thought.

***

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The sound of Layla’s alarm went off, and Layla awakened from her deep sleep, her hand reaching out to turn it off. Today was the day of her collaboration with the triplets, and she was not wasting any time to put herself together.

She quickly did her morning routine, using the best-looking products she had and wore her best makeup. She went to her closet and pulled out her best outfit. Her cat Knight walked over to his bag of food, as he usually did in the morning, which Layla knew was his signal to feed him. As soon as she walked over, he meowed and stared at her as she poured his food into his bowl. She looked down at him and the smile on her face went away as she realized she would have to be away from him for the day.

Layla lived alone after moving from South Carolina to LA, and usually she would have one of her LA friends watch him. Unfortunately, they were all pretty busy, so she didn’t have anyone. So, she thought of an idea. “Hey, Knighty. You wanna come with mommy to work?”

Knight looked up at her and meowed.

Layla pulled out her phone and facetimed Nick. After a few rings, he picked up the phone with a smile on his face. She could hear rustling and the clanging of metal in the background from Nick’s side.

“Oh, sorry about the noise. The washing machine is broken so we’re trying to fix it- Chris, no, don’t hammer the fucking outlet, are you dumb?!”

“It’s coming out of the wall!” Chris could be heard responding in the background.

“No, put the fucking hammer down!!” Nick could be seen leaving the frame of his camera, followed by a small slapping sound, which Layla could assume that he slapped Chris. “We don’t even need a hammer!”

Layla chuckled before Nick came back on frame. “Sorry about that, Layla. Chris was being a complete idiot,” he visibly rolled his eyes, “So what’s up?”

“Okay, so I have a bit of a problem…”

Nick’s eyes widened a bit. “Uh-oh, what’s wrong?”

“So I don’t have anyone to watch my cat, and I don’t wanna leave him alone. So…”

“OH MY GOD!” Matt’s face popped up on screen over Nick’s shoulder. “Please bring him over! I wanna meet him so bad… Please?”

His slightly whiny tone of voice amused Layla. “Only if all of you are fine with it. I don’t just wanna bring some random animal at your ho-”

“Please… I swear Chris is fine with it, right Chris?” He paused to look away from the camera, presumably to look at Chris for a response, then turned back to face the screen, “Yep, he’s okay with it! And I know Nick is, too.” Matt looked down at Nick, rubbing his shoulder slightly forcefully in a way to persuade him.

Nick swatted Matt’s hand from his shoulder. “Yes, you can bring him over. You didn’t have to ask, but thanks for doing it anyway. Some people would have a pet snake and just bring it over without asking like a weirdo.” He smiled at the screen.

Layla smiled back, “Thank you, guys. I'll be seeing you later!”

Then there was a loud thud. “Matt…” Nick’s eyes glared off-camera. “Anyways, see ya later, Layla!” He smiled and waved until the call ended.

Layla went on the rest of the morning thinking about what would happen later. She was so excited to see the boys again and get to know them. Especially Chris.

She first watched the brothers last year when she came across a compilation of their funny moments on Tiktok. They were so funny, and she could relate to them with so many opinions and ideas.

When she met the brothers for the first time at Larri’s party, they were so nice to her and had such a great vibe. But Chris was unique. He immediately stood out to her. His energy, his charisma, his pretty face, his smile, his style- they all made her melt. He even smelled so fucking good, despite the “stinky” jokes that his brothers teased him about all the time. She couldn’t wait to smell him again.

***

Layla finally made it to the boys’ house, and she texted them of her arrival. She stepped out of the Uber with Knight’s crate in her hand, and walked down their yard, where she finally saw Nick standing outside waiting for her. He smiled so brightly and immediately extended his arms for a hug.

“Oh my god, hey!!” He said as he hugged her. “How are you? You look great, by the way!”

Layla smiled. “Thank you so much! You look good too!” She replied. “I’ve been alright, work’s just been taking up some of my free time. But otherwise, things have been fine.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I know you edit all your videos, and I definitely know how exhausting that is. Unfortunately, those two don’t know how to fuckin’ edit”, he rolled his eyes playfully at the mention of his brothers before continuing, “And you’ve been traveling a lot too, so that’s double exhausting.” He chuckled, making her let out a small giggle in tandem. “Well, I won’t keep you standing outside in this heat for any longer.”

Standing like a proud magician introducing his opening act as he opened the house’s door, Nick exclaimed with the widest grin on his face, “And welcome to our humble abode!”

Layla put Knight’s cage down and looked up at the sight. It had a modern look to it, a monochrome color scheme, and little things of the boys’ that scattered in the living room and on the kitchen island. Their home was sweet and simple, but the real charm was the fact that she instantly felt safe there. Something about it, whether it was the smell of clean linen with a hint of cologne, or the little items that you could figure out which belonged to which sibling, or if it was the simple fact that it was owned by these three well-mannered men, Layla just instantly felt safe. And she could tell that her cat felt this same security as well, as he had made a straight B-line to their couch as soon as she opened his cage, laying on one of the throw pillows and getting himself comfortable as if he were at his own home.

It was something about Layla’s presence that made Chris feel safe as well. He didn’t know her for a long time, of course. It was weird, but it just felt normal. She felt normal. She wasn’t some crazy obsessed fan who knew his every move, how many pairs of shoes he owned, or what his favorite Lil Skies song was. She was just a normal girl who happened to do a similar job to him. A normal girl with the most beautiful face that he wished he could stare at for a very long time. Was he the weirdo? Maybe.

“Hey Layla!” Matt said as he walked down the stairs, Chris following right behind him.

Chris smiled slightly, nervousness creeping up his spine as he inched closer to Layla and Nick.

“Hey, guys!” Layla walked up to Matt as he walked into the living room and they shared a quick hug. “How’ve you been, Matt?”

Matt smiled. “Everything’s fine with me…” He started to look around as if he were looking for something.

“Knight’s over there, Matt,” Nick said with a deadpan tone, pointing towards the couch. It was quite comedic for Layla to see Matt be interested in the cat more than anything else in that moment.

Matt’s eyes widened as well as his smile as he walked straight towards the couch and sat down beside the cat. He put his hand in front of Knight’s nose to allow him to get used to his scent. After a couple of sniffs, Knight nuzzled Matt’s hand and climbed onto his lap, getting right back to sleep as Matt stroked his fur.

Layla smiled at the sight. “Aw, that’s too cute! I’ll have to take a photo!”

Nick replied, “I’ll take one and send it to you.”

“Thank you!” Layla responded before turning to face Chris, who stood awkwardly as if he were caught doing something naughty.

And to some extent, he was doing something naughty. He stared at her the entire time through Matt and Knight’s wholesome interaction. He loved seeing how heartfelt she was at the sight. Her eyes smiled alongside her beautiful lips. When she turned back around to face him, he shot his face down towards the ground feeling guilty, hence the awkward pose.

Layla walked up to Chris with extended arms and hugged him tightly, their embrace lasting longer than the ones she shared with Nick and Matt, and quite similar to the hugs they shared at Larri’s party.

Nick watched Chris and Layla’s hug, a smile hidden between his lips. He didn’t want to make it obvious how much he knew of Chris’s feelings for her. It would ruin his whole plan of getting them together in the first place.

“How’ve you been, Layla?” Chris asked, his voice having a bit of a flirty tone that he hoped she didn’t pick up on.

Layla did pick up on it. She thought it was sexy since the first time she watched him in videos, and thought it was even sexier in person. She replied to his question the same way she replied to Nick’s earlier, but reciprocated a tinge of the same flirtatiousness underneath. “I’ve been good. Kinda tired because of work, but overall I’m okay.”

Chris smirked warmly. “That’s good. Glad to see you again.”

Layla nodded and gulped at the sight of his smirk- it was hot. “Y-you, too.”

After this, Nick and Layla walked around the living room and kitchen area, having a mini chat and a tiny tour of the areas, while Matt and Chris walked upstairs to the podcast room. They made sure the room was spick-and-span for their guest beforehand, but they just wanted to do a little check-up of their set-up before the podcast session officially started.

“She seems so sweet. I’m glad she said yes to this.” Matt wiped down the table with a disinfecting towel, smiling to himself as he thought of how well the day would go.

Chris distractedly responded. “Yeah…”

Matt picked up on Chris’s distracted tone and looked over at him. He noticed the concerning nervous look on his face. “You alright, Chris?”

“Yeah,” he answered a bit irritated, “I’m good, Matt.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “I was just askin’. Get the stick outta your ass.”

Chris sighed. “Sorry, I’m just focusing right now.”

“Focusing on… dusting?”

Chris looked down at the duster in his hand and rolled his eyes as he put it down. “No,” he paused for a moment to think of a better excuse than admitting his crush on Layla, “I’m focusing on the podcast questions we’re gonna ask Layla.” Perfect.

Matt chuckled, “Well that’s a first. You never think of the questions.”

“Well, maybe I’m growing,” Chris said with a smile at the end. He felt bad to lie to Matt, but with Nick knowing of his secret, telling Matt would feel like too much.

“Ooookay?” Matt reacted confused, but went along with it as they continued to prepare the room.

***

Throughout the filming of the episode, Layla could feel Chris’s gaze on her, like the heat of a fire warming against her skin. Everytime she looked over at him, his blue eyes, piercing yet soft, would be directed towards her. All of her answers to his questions as well as his brothers’ weren’t left unanswered. She could feel that he was actually interested in whatever she had to say.

And he was truly intrigued by the conversations they were having, never missing a beat to interject on a topic that he felt passionate about. That’s what Layla loved about him: his passion. She loved how hype he would get whenever they spoke on things he enjoyed like music, food, and their childhoods. His body would shift and jolt in a way that really portrayed how excited he was about those topics, and Layla was elated to see it.

However, Chris did notice that whenever he was the one to speak to Layla, whether it was asking her questions or interjecting his own opinions that he had hoped she picked up on, Layla would stumble on her words. He didn’t think it was any sort of nervousness, and definitely did not suspect the stuttering to be caused by her being frustrated with some sort of crush on him that he didn’t know about (although that absolutely was the reason why she stuttered). But he thought her stammering, especially in their interactions, was adorable regardless and didn’t mind it.

The four of them went on to discuss their favorite places and pastimes in their hometowns, how it compared to LA life, and interjecting some funny (more so embarrassing) moments from their lives in the conversations. The boys asked questions about Layla’s influencer career and how her life’s journey had been to this point as well as her plans for the future. It wasn’t a bad video at all.

***

The podcast finally ended. Nick rose from his seat, taking a couple of stretches before finally standing to put his sneakers back on. Matt followed in suit, holding his cup in his hand, making sure not to spill the contents of it as he picked up his sweater from beside him. Chris noticed his brothers gathering their contents and his eyebrow rose. “Where are you two going?”

Matt zipped his hoodie up and dug his empty in his pocket searching for his keys. “Nick texted me during the pod and said that he wanted to go to Chick-Fil-A for some food.”

“I got the munchies,” Nick inserted.

Layla stood up from her seat and grabbed her purse. “Oh, okay, I’ll follow you guys, if that’s okay. I’m kind of hungry-”

Nick quickly looked over at Layla and suggested, “No, no, no! You can stay here!” He noticed the anxiousness of his voice and quickly cleared his throat before continuing, “Me and Matt will get the food. You’re our guest, right?”

Layla nodded, albeit a bit confused by the suggestion.

Nick smiled. “Yeah, soooo,” elongating the “so” for emphasis, “you can stay here! Chris will take care of you. Right, Chris?”

Chris’s cheeks became a sharp shade of red after processing what his brother had said. Take care of her? What the fuck was Nick saying? Noticing everyone’s eyes on him as he was stunned by Nick’s words, Chris cleared his throat and replied, “Yeah, Layla. I’ll stay here with you.”

Layla was just as stunned by what was happening- moreso, what was about to happen. She was going to be left alone. With Chris. The guy she’d been thinking about since she first met him. No, she was thinking about him since she first came across his content. And now they’re alone. Together. In his house. And he looks good. And smells good. And-

The sound of the door squeaking open interrupted her thoughts. “‘Kay, guys, see ya later! Don’t freak Layla out too much, Chris,” Nick said.

“Shut up!” Chris snapped back at his brother jokingly, watching him and Matt leave before hearing the door shut.

It was just the two of them now. Chris and Layla.Together. Alone.

And yet, silence.

Until Chris said, “Hey.”

Layla smiled. “Hey.”

They were still sitting across from each other still in the podcast room, so there was no way for them not to notice each other’s presence.

Chris didn’t want to ignore her anyway. It would be rude of him to go on his phone and distract himself. She was a guest- he had to be a good enough host for her. Also, how could he ignore such a beautiful lady in front of him? He had to say something. “So, what do you wanna do?”

Layla shifted in her seat, making herself comfortable- or at least trying to. “I don’t know.” She chuckled to herself. “What do you wanna do?”

Ugh, why would she phrase the question back to me??, He thought. “Um… Well, I don’t know. Maybe we can just talk?”

“About what?” Layla lifted an eyebrow curiously.

Chris’s cheeks started to tint with red. “Maybe…” he raised a finger as he came up with an idea, “20 Questions?”

Layla laughed, and the reaction caused Chris’s cheeks to redden even more with embarrassment. He tried to cover it up with an explanation. “I know, it’s a stupid idea but maybe it can help us get to know each other personally? Unless you don’t want to-”

“Okay, go for it.” Layla smiled as she leaned back in her chair, now sitting as if she was ready for any questions he would hit her with.

Chris was shocked at her readiness. “Oh, wow, okay!” He bit his lip as the gears started to turn in his head, and the screwing of his face made Layla blush. “I gotta think of a question…” He took - couple of seconds and then-

“Alright,” the boy started. “What was your first impression of me?” Chris asked, leaning back into his chair similarly to her, and smirked. A ballsy question, yes, but one he was genuinely curious about.

Layla turned her head away from him slightly to avoid the sight of his smirk. Every fucking face he makes is so sexy, she thought to herself. “First impression? Like in person or in videos?”

Chris tried to keep eye contact with her, tilting his head a bit forward to get back in her field of view. “Either.” He shrugged, not out of disinterest, but rather the opposite, absolutely wanting to hear both perspectives of her thoughts.

She smiled as she thought about him. “I thought you were a good guy. At least when I started watching the videos.”

He raised one of his eyebrows, but the smirk remained as he let out a small scoff. “Just a ‘good guy’?”

Layla shifted her legs in her seat, the scoff and smirk combo making her a bit… aroused. “Okay, a great guy. Is that better?”

Chris laughed. “I’ll take it.” He paused before continuing, “And in person?” Here’s where it gets juicy.

Layla chuckled involuntarily out of nervousness before she answered. “You were bigger than I expected.”

Chris looked at her curiously. “Bigger?” He thought for a moment and then chuckled. He had the urge to make a joke, a rather inappropriate one along the lines of ‘you know what else is big?’, but the urge quickly subsided and led to a teasing question. “What- did you think I was that short?”

Layla immediately defended herself. “No, no! You just seem so… ‘skinny white boy from the Northeast’-esque. If that makes sense. Like Timothee Chalamet, y’know?”

“Hm. Okay,” he replied, but kept up the teasing aura. “ So you mean bigger as in more muscular? Or bigger as in thicker… like I got a fat ass?”

Layla rolled her eyes. “Let’s go with the first one ‘cause that second one is a reach.”

Chris fake-frowned. “You don’t think I got cake?”

Layla scoffed. “Shut up! Just take the compliment!”

Chris laughed as he felt Layla kick him playfully under the table. “I’ll tell you what I first thought about you.”

Layla placed her elbows on the table and put her face in her hands as she looked at Chris intriguingly. “Ooh, I’m excited.”

Chris’s teasing smirk softened into a warm smile as he began to think of the times he first came across her and her content. “Well, I knew of you before Larri’s party through little clips of you on TikTok. You just had this inviting smile and warm energy that automatically drew me in. I would see you in little funny compilations from your vlogs and GRWM videos, and your humor was kinda similar to mine. I was intrigued by you. And that’s when I started watching your videos.”

As he spoke, Layla thought about how she came across him- literally almost the same way. It was interesting. A coincidence? Maybe. A lot of people around their age come across people like that. But it was cute regardless.

Chris went on. “I don’t really know what you’re talking about when I watch your makeup tutorials or fashion try-on hauls or whatever…” he let out a small laugh then continued, “But I don’t mind it. Just your energy, your laughter, your beauty- both inside and out- were enough to get me hooked on you.”

It seemed as if Chris was genuinely pouring his heart out. “And in person, whoaaaa,” he leaned back in his chair in a way that emphasized his whoa, “The first time I met you in person, your beauty was just 10 times more intense. Like, you were pretty on my phone screen, but in person? Right up close? Wow. Amazing.” His cheeks tinted red again. “And you’re a great hugger. Your perfume just stayed in my nose for days after that.”

Chris was so caught up in his proclamation that when he finally noticed the girl’s beautiful cheeks becoming tinted with blush, he stopped himself from getting deeper and called her out jokingly to cut the tension. “You’re blushing!”

Layla lowered her head when she saw his finger point at her. “Blushing? I’m brown-skinned, how could you tell?”

“Your cheeks are a bit of a…” he leaned in closer to her, and she could definitely feel the heat now; it was obvious to the both of them, “They’re a chestnut color. Mahogany, if you will.”

“‘Mahogany if you will’”, Layla couldn’t help but mock the words from his lips. “You’re stupid, you know that?”

“Yeah?” He leaned back against his chair. “Is that another trait about me that you forgot to mention?”

She nodded and a teasing grin popped up on her face. Yes, she was teasing him now, but the grin was a bit more of a facade as to how she truly felt in that moment: aroused.

It was almost as if Chris knew of her growing desire as he continued to press her. “And what else?”

Layla noticed the same stupid, smug smirk on his face as he egged her on. “You’re stupid, and sloppy, and weird.”

“Uh-huh…” His irises seemed to grow darker as the tension between them became more palpable. “What else? Any positives?”

Silence.

“I’m waiting.” He sang in a teasing tone.

“Well, you’re…” One of Chris’s eyebrows rose in intrigue as she continued, “… creative.”

“Thank you! Well, I was waiting for ‘handsome’, but ‘creative’ is good enough.” He suddenly realized his flirtatious nature and questioned himself, What the fuck am I saying?

“‘Good enough?’” Layla scoffed playfully. “Well I’ll give you something even better than handsome then, since you’re so desperate.” She stood up suddenly and walked towards him, bending herself down to face him up close. She leaned into his ear, her breath brushing by the skin of its helix. “You’re sexy.”

What the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck- was all that repeated in Chris’s mind. What. The. Fuck. Sexy? Me??

As if reading his mind, Layla added, “Yeah. You’re sexy. Your eyes, your lips- even your nose is sexy,” Layla’s tone sounded like she was admitting this nonchalantly, but as she realized the impact of her statements, her eyes began to widen and her heartbeat gradually sped up.

“Damn.” That’s all Chris could say at that moment. One explicative that was enough to express his shock. Damn. His eyes widened and if he didn’t have some sort of control of his reaction, his jaw would’ve fallen to the floor.

He fully faced her as he turned his body around, his nose now nearly touching hers. Their faces were nearly centimeters apart. If a kiss didn’t happen now, there wouldn’t be another chance.

So Chris kissed her. His lips pressed against her abruptly, yet with a hint of tenderness that allowed Layla to feel comfortable and not pressured to reciprocate it. Layla leaned into the kiss, her eyes closed and lips enveloped into the passion of the moment. Although the kiss lasted at most 10 seconds before Chris pulled away, there was an undeniable spark between them and a force that almost pulled them back into each other again. Almost.

Chris moved his head backward to look at Layla and her reaction to his sudden action. She looked pleased, but he wanted to really make sure. Really, really make sure. His hand caressed her face with a gentle touch, his thumb rubbing her cheek.

“Just fucking kiss me again”, Layla said in response, rolling her eyes at the boy before she could feel his hand grip onto her jaw and pull her into his lips. They were soft and tasted like cherry lip balm, the flavor shocking Layla, but she didn’t mind as she melted into his grasp and allowed him to take a hold of her face and mind. She then climbed on top of him, her legs now wrapped around his waist as she sat on his lap.

Chris’s hands felt an urge to roam her body like they were already on her face, but he controlled himself, not wanting to cross any boundaries without her permission. Feeling heated, he began to remove his sweater and Layla helped him with this as she saw him struggle with his movements as he focused on the passion of the kiss.

Chris sighed as they pulled away from their kiss for a second to process what was happening. “Fuck, I haven’t kissed anyone like that in a while. I feel so…”

“So what?”

“So… good. Layla, I need you. Fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Chris,” Layla placed her hand on his chin, rubbing it in soft movements in a subtle way to soothe him. She could tell he was getting a bit anxious. But she could also feel how much he wanted to move the moment even further. “Chris, you’re okay. You’re with me, alright? Do you need me?”

Chris nodded, not being able to say much other than a “mm-hm”.

“Tell me what exactly you need me to do. I’ll take care of you,” Layla pressed her forehead against his and stared into his eyes, making sure that any changes in his face weren’t due to any discomfort or unease. “I promise, I will take care of you. Just tell me what you need.”

Chris’s breath hitched in his throat. He never thought he would get this nervous about a girl. Like ever. At least not in a long time. But, Layla? Fuck, she was something else. He watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed at a slow pace, which he took as a signal in his own consciousness to control his own breathing and relax. He would need to if he really wanted this moment to progress. “I need you to make me feel good. I need you to feel good, too.”

Layla began to move her hips back and forth against Chris’s lap, small breaths of pleasure escaping her lips as the ache between her legs was now being soothed by his touch. He watched her for a minute, taking the time to really process what was happening. His hands slowly started to grasp her hips, not yet applying pressure, but just holding onto her to get used to the way she felt in his hands. The girl bit her lip and started to whimper as she grinded down with more desperation, which Chris took as a sign to kiss her forehead and her cheek to soothe her a bit. He looked into her eyes and bit his own lip, nodding as he watched her pleasure herself with his body. “There you go… you look so pretty like that.”

Layla moaned in response at his praise, and Chris smiled as he began to help her grind on his lap, his hands gripping onto her hips and moving them back and forth. Their breathing escalated, sending them both in a spiral as they started to both find an orgasm subconsciously.

But Chris stepped out of the moment as soon as he felt himself nearing the precipice. He didn’t want to end this moment prematurely. “Get on your knees,” was all he instructed her as his eyebrows furrowed in sexual frustration. He wanted to make this beautiful girl in front of him unravel herself before he would with the limited amount of time they had alone together.

His sudden request caught Layla off guard, causing her eyes to widen and her actions to freeze. She looked at him in a way that she could recalibrate herself to actually take his commands, and finally did, getting off of him and settling onto her knees. Her widened eyes looked into his again, awaiting for another command. Something about the man in front of her and the situation they were in made her desire to be submissive in this moment.

Layla began to pull his pants down to his ankles but left his boxers by his thighs for precaution if someone happened to walk in. She wouldn’t wanna traumatize his brothers with the sight of her gagging on his dick.

“Yeah, pull my dick out, fuck…” He threw his head back as he felt the air of the room hit his bare cock. “Fuckkk…” He needed to feel her lips around him- or anything for that matter- right now.

Layla immediately started to rub his shaft, both of her hands around it as she began to move them up and down. She gathered some of the precum leaking from his tip to lubricate him somehow, but it wasn’t enough for Chris.

“Spit on my dick, please,” he requested with pouty lips, his head still thrown back, but his fingers found their way in Layla’s hair for some sort of comfort. “Just spit on it-” her saliva landed on his dick and she began to rub it in- “Good girl…” He ran his fingers through her hair in appraisal.

“Look at that pretty fuckin’ face…” Chris purred as he brought the same hand down in her hair down to caress her jaw, his thumb rubbing soothingly against her cheek. He noticed her looking back at the door repeatedly when she first kneeled down, and wanted to reassure her. “I see you wanting to look at the door, but don’t worry about anyone barging in here. We’ll hear the front door from up here when they get back,” he explained to further comfort her before getting her to do anything further.

Layla smiled and nodded at Chris as she continued to massage his shaft, causing him to bring his hand back to her hair and tug on it a bit. “O-okay,” he stammered, “I want you to suck me off, okay? Use those cute fuckin’ lips of yours on my dick.”

He watched as the woman kneeling before him wrapped her plump, glossed lips around the head of his dick, the contact making him unconsciously buck into her mouth a bit deeper than they both expected. He quickly stabilized himself onto the chair and anchored his feet on the ground, hoping to control his body from making that mistake again.

Layla began to bob her head up and down his shaft, each and every repetitive motion causing him to wince and groan in pleasure. It was a pleasure he hadn’t felt from another person in a while; a pleasure he had to mimic with his own right hand, the same right hand he was using to grip onto Layla’s hair. He was in bliss, but he knew he couldn’t be there for a long time.

In realization of their limited time, Chris started to apply force with the hand gripping her hair, helping her to bob on his dick with more vigor. He bit his lip and curled his toes in his shoes as he could feel her tongue dance around the skin of his shaft, exciting every nerve that existed there. When the tip of her tongue would find its way back to the tip of his dick, licking around the hole, now that was heaven. And her lips? Fuck. Plump, cushiony, comfortable, kissable. He didn’t know what she was wearing that made them feel so warm, almost spicy, whenever she kissed his dick. Maybe it was that lip plumper she said she liked to wear in one of those old videos she did? Regardless, it was working its magic.

Layla felt equally as pleased, the feeling of his dick in her mouth making her moan and salivate around him. She knew she couldn’t get too sloppy since at any moment, anyone could walk through the doors and ruin her moment. But the feeling of his warm and slightly salty length and the outline of the veins that adorned it were enough to keep her going.

“Oh, you’re too good at this, baby,” he complimented her with a moan as she continued her movements. “Wish I got to feel you do this sooner. Feels like this is what I’ve been missing out on my whole life- Ah!” He let out a small yelp as Layla took it upon herself to bring his tip to the back of her throat.

Layla held him in the back of her throat, thrusting her head up and down to let him hit the opening of her esophagus. She let out little coughs as she did this, and her legs opened wider underneath her, allowing her to play with herself as she grew more hungry to feel him inside of her pussy.

Chris brought his head up from its laid back position and noticed her hand repeating circular motions between her sprawled out legs. He snickered, clearly entertained by her desperate attempts to please herself. “‘You having fun down there, princess?”

Layla only moaned in response as she continued to deepthroat him and grind against her fingers at once. The sound of her moan was heaven, and he wanted to open the gates in her pussy to hear even more.

“Okay, princess, this feels good and all but,” he used his hand to guide her off of his dick, her lips making a pop as they let him go, “I wanna fuck you so badly. And I know you want me too, right Layla?”

Layla moaned, “Uh-huh, please?” She couldn’t get many words out in her current state, but the blissed-out look on her face and the lust in her eyes spoke for her. She pouted at him as she watched him stand up from his chair, studying his body and face to figure out what they would do next.

Chris grasped both of her hands with his, helping her up from her knees. He quickly grabbed her face and kissed her, his lips missing the feeling of hers on them. Before she could even get comfortable in the kiss, he shifted her body so that she was now bent over the podcast table. Her pretty back and ass were the only thing in his view, and it was delectable.

Chris held onto his cock as he positioned it in front of her pussy’s entrance. He rubbed it between the lips, teasing her hole with his cockhead. Layla backed herself up against him and whined, wanting to feel him inside of her as the ache between her legs couldn’t handle the teasing any longer. But Chris shushed her and slapped his dick against her clit a couple of times, almost in some way to punish her, causing her body to jolt and her mouth to let out a little cry. “Shh, it’s okay. You’ll get it; just relax, mama.”

Layla bit her lip as she felt him tease her a bit more, constantly pushing only the tip in and then pulling it out just before her pussy could even grasp him. She whined and moaned and whimpered some more until finally, he pushed himself inside.

The girl let out a long, drawled moan, probably one of the loudest she’d ever made, and Chris groaned at the sensations happening around him. From the sound of the moan, to the feeling of her pussy wrapping around him and coating his dick, to the sight of this girl’s beautiful body, he didn’t know if he would last long.

Chris began his thrusts in her, staccato with a slightly fast tempo, which filled the room with noises of bodies interlocking with each other in a hungry dance of desire. Her ass made little ripples that made contact with his pelvis, and that was a delicious sight to see. Chris groaned and cursed underneath his breath as he felt her pussy tighten around him more with every second that passed. The feeling of her walls gliding against him caused a friction that heated up his entire body.

Layla was in a trance. She moaned with every thrust and leaned her face and upper body against the table as she felt her body not have control anymore. Chris’s thrusts were what she had hoped from him: exuberant and needy, but with a subtle praising hit against her G-spot that made her feel like the luckiest woman on Earth. In the chase of her nearing orgasm, Layla started to thrust back into him, matching her movements with his own.

The man noticed this and slapped one of her buttocks, making Layla yelp underneath him. He repeated this a couple more times, wanting to hear her beautiful cries like he was hitting the replay button of his favorite song. “Fuck, Layla, throw that fucking ass back on me, yes,” he moaned, bringing another slap to the already sore skin of the right side of her ass. “You’re just too fuckin’ pretty, you know that?” Chris asked rhetorically, and he leaned his body over Layla’s, his chest now to her back. One of his hands gripped her jaw, which was wet with some drool that ran from her o-shaped lips, and the other on her shoulder as he continued to make sharp thrusts against her G-spot. She tightened around him at his praise almost instantly, causing Chris to wince and tighten his clasp against her face. “Prettier when I’m balls deep inside of you, too.”

Layla moaned, doing her ever-best to throw herself back onto him. The contact of their skin became louder as the impact grew harder. She was close to her first orgasm.

And Chris knew this, as he felt her clench around him even tighter and saw her body thrust into him more impatiently. Chris couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle her. The way she felt against him, the way she moaned, the way her head would tilt backwards and he could see her eyes roll back in pleasure and a little drool run down from her mouth and onto the hand grasping her jaw- it was all too much. He did his best to hold back his orgasm, though. He wanted to make his pretty girl feel good. She deserved it. He bit his lip and then encouraged her, “Let it out for me, Layla… Let yourself go for me, okay?” He brought his hand, once gripped to her jaw, down underneath her stomach and its fingers found themselves between her legs, rubbing her clit to aid in her search for her orgasm.

Then, finally, she threw her head back and moaned loudly as she came around him. Chris noticed the cream that slid down his shaft as he began to pull out of her slowly, and if didn’t have control of himself, he would have cum from that sight alone.

But, Chris turned Layla’s body around and lifted her on top of the table, making her lay down and spread out for him as he got her ready for their next position. He checked the clock in the corner of the room for a second, seeing the time read 5:36. It’s been 20 minutes, which was longer than his brother’s usually took for a run to Chick-Fil-A, but he couldn’t help but to think that his and Layla’s extended period of alone time was all due to Nick’s impeccable plan. He owed Nick one for real.

Chris’s attention went back onto Layla as he gazed into her lustful eyes. She was still having her orgasm the way she was biting her lip and holding back a moan, and this made him chuckle to himself. He didn’t know he could make a pretty girl cum like that.

He leaned down and kissed Layla again, feigning thrusts between the lips of her pussy with his dick as he sucked her tongue. Layla moaned into the kiss, and Chris almost seemed to inhale her sounds of pleasure as he kissed her.

He removed his lips from her mouth and looked down, puckering them to spit onto her pussy. He tapped his dick against her pussy as he had done minutes before to tease her again, but he didn’t want to take long as it backfired and caused him to tease himself. So, he finally placed himself back inside of her cavern and moaned at the feeling of her wrapping herself around him again.

Layla cried out a moan and threw her head back as he started his thrusts again. She grasped her tits which were still covered by her shirt, and let out a “fuck” as she began to play with then.

Chris noticed her actions and helped her, pulling her shirt down and making her tits pop out from above it, and guided her hand back onto her tits with his own hands grasping onto hers. They both played with breasts in tandem, bringing a new-founded level of intimacy to their heated fuck session.

Suddenly, Layla’s fingers removed themselves from gripping her breasts to fully interlock with Chris’s hands. Chris’s heart jumped as he looked down and saw her do this. He didn’t expect it. He didn’t expect her to be so romantic in the midst of their sex. But, he loved it. Did this mean that she wanted to be romantic with him? Was she hinting at this being more than just about the sex? Or did she do this for her own comfort and self-soothing?

He felt his heart beat even faster from all of this thinking, so he distracted himself by increasing the pace of his thrusts and delving himself deeper in her warmth, feeling her tighten around him again. He then noticed her eyes open and looked into his, almost like she wanted something from him. “What else do you want me to do, mama?” He could hear Layla let out something that could have been words, but unfortunately came out as little sporadic whimpers. He watched as she ran her hand down her body and tenderly grazed against her clit, making a lightbulb go off in his head. “Rub your clit?” She moaned in response and threw her head back as Chris allowed his thumb to apply pressure and rub at her flesh. “It’s okay, I got you, baby,” he cooed.

Chris smirked as he saw her face scrunch up in pleasure as his thumb moved circles on her clit. She looked so adorable and sexy like this. “There you go! Oh, beautiful girl, look at your face! You like feeling me rub your pretty little clitty?” He heard her let out a cute whine in reply. He chuckled. “Good girl…”

Creeeaak! The entrance door of the house creaked open, and the two of them could hear the rustling of Nick and Matt walking into the house.

Chris’s face paled. “We don’t have much time, fuck.” He used the opportunity to increase his thrusts, but angled himself in a way where his skin wouldn’t slap against hers with force that could cause any loud noises.

He began to praise her more, knowing that she was a mess whenever he complimented her, and also knowing that it would make her near her orgasm faster. “You’re a pretty girl?”

Layla nodded and brought her thumb in between her teeth, biting down on it as she felt him go faster against her G-spot. “Mhm.”

Chris leaned down to her face, his nose tip-to-tip with her own, his eyes looking like they were staring directly into her soul, and the timbre of his voice verberating against her eardrums. “No, I wanna hear you fucking say it to me. Tell me you’re a pretty girl.”

“I- I-” Layla moaned quietly before she noticed Chris’s eyes becoming more frustrated as he came close to his own orgasm. She continued, “I’m a pretty girl.”

“Mm-hm, yes, you are..,” Chris agreed with a nod and a kiss, his lips missing hers due to his dazed state of nearing his climax. “Fuck, I gotta hear you cum, baby. You have such pretty moans- c’mon,” he grunted as he slapped her pussy with his fingers and then spread her pussy’s labia with his fingers.

Everything happening caused Layla’s back to arch and body to shake as she orgasmed. Chris felt her clench around him and looked down to watch the cream escape from her hole. “There you go… Good girl. Let it all out for me.”

Layla groaned as she moved her body to ride out her orgasm on Chris’s dick, causing Chris’s own body to shake. His balls clenched as he began to have his orgasm, but he made sure to pull out before making any of his cum slip inside of her. His white liquid shot out onto the outside of her pussy and a bit on her stomach, the feeling of it landing on her causing Layla to look down at the sight. Chris laughed quietly as he watched her. “Yeah, that feels good?” Layla nodded and he smiled proudly.

The two suddenly heard footsteps growing louder as Nick and Matt walked up the stairs. “Shit, shit, shit,” Chris grabbed a baby wipe and began to wipe her up, using a paper towel from the center of the table to dry her off. They helped each other to fix their clothes and look at least somewhat presentable.

“Hey, we’re baaack!” Nick sang as he swung the door open and walked into the room. He and Matt stood by the door, but Nick surveyed the area suspiciously, noticing the disarray of Chris’s hair and the way the table. “What are you two still doing here? Chris, I told you to make her comfortable.” He glared over at Chris, not because of Chris and Layla still in the room, but because of what he suspected happened in that room while he and Matt were away. It could take an idiot to know what happened, and unfortunately, he was Boo-Boo the Fool.

But Chris shrugged and responded to Nick’s question with zero hesitation. “Layla and I just got caught up in conversation.” He stood up and stretched, looking at Nick and Matt with a normal, unfazed face. He made sure he did his best not to look like he just had the best orgasm of his life.

And it worked, moreso when it came to Matthew. He didn’t suspect a thing, not even a hint of a crush between Chris and Layla in the first place. When he looked around the room, he noticed everybody giving each other looks and practically speaking with their eyes, but he didn’t fully understand why. So, he brushed off his confusion and spoke. “Okay, so we bought food for everybody. We can eat downstairs or in here; whatever works for you.*

“We can eat here,” Layla suggested. She looked over at Chris and noticed his entire body stiffen for a couple of seconds before he sat back down in his seat and nodded in agreement.

Nick smiled at Layla before looking at Chris, his eyebrows furrowing only a small bit at him as a hidden signal to his brother that he knew something was up. “Okay, let’s set everything up.”

Chris walked over to Nick and helped him get all of the food and drinks from the bag, before Nick gave him a small pinch on his arm. “We need to talk after this,” he whispered to him at a low pitch, so low to the point Chris could hear him growl. Chris chuckled and winked before walking off to set the table, taunting Nick in a way to tell him that he already knew what Nick wanted to talk to him about later.

All of them began to eat and shared casual conversations amongst each other, the energy of the room being calm and casual; quite the juxtaposition to how heated and desperate it felt a few minutes before Nick and Matt came back.

And Chris and Layla were very aware of this. The two shared a look that only they could understand- a certain smirk with a glint of satisfaction and requited feelings for each other in their eyes- and continued eating their food.

[insidefernweh]

Well, hello.

A couple months ago one silly woman (me) decided that it’s time for creativity to take a hold of her and let something cool into this world.

And that’s how I decided to give birth to…a The Amazing Devil blanket. Or I might have dreamed it whilst being feverish. Who knows.

It’s been three months of stitching, embroidering, sewing, unmaking the mistakes, cursing, saying ‘waahheeey’ at the end of the complete step, cursing again and enjoying the hell out of the process of something being made into the realness. 

It is literally the embodiment of me. I love it and hate it equally. It has got my favourite quotes from the songs. Yes, that’s me — your favourite girl with maelstrom of lyrics instead of a brain. It also has got some of my blood somewhere along the stitches (did i do it on purpose to please the fae gods aka Joey and Madeleine? you’ll never know. hashtag blood magic.) I wanted to get it done for the Ruin Appreciation Week (though it contains lyrics from all albums) so that was me last week because it was very FAR from being done:

I’m posting the bigger picture + close ups of smaller details and songs’ lyrics. Please feel free to reach out if you want to see a better close up or just to pat me on the head.

I’m posting a video too. It’s silly so enjoey. (ha! see what I did here. that was a typing accident. it’s 1am now. forgive me my jokes.)

warning: the video include some probably offensive actions to the professional seamstresses. i’m only a humble ignorant person who decided to sew for the first time in her life. i do hope you’ll like it.

references used:

the central embroidery: TAD’s old picture from some posters back in the love run era + some sage and forget-me-nots

top right and left bottom corners: pictures of joey and madeleine

songs: secret worlds, the calling, inkpot gods, drinking song for the socially anxious, chords, farewell wanderlust, not yet/love run (reprise), that unwanted animal, battle cries, elsa’s song, wild blue yonder

UPD: A few of you have been asking about the quotes I used on my blanket/quilt and why I chose them so here I am:

If you ask me for my fire, just watch me burn — you know what, I recently started to interpret this line in a positive way? It was a recent thing I understood about myself. I always thought I was good at working/doing things well in the long run, when you have to do it patiently and for years but in my journey of self-discovery I realized that in reality I’m much better as a sprinter — someone who does an incredible job while being under the vast amount of pressure and when you need to do it in a restricted period of time; I will give all of myself to this project/work, every bit of passion I have, every bit of patience. So yeah. If you ask me for my fire — just watch me burn. But then I’ll hibernate for a month. 

Can’t you hear it howling? — OKAY HANDS DOWN PROBABLY MY FAVOURITE LYRICS/MELODY SECTION FROM THE WHOLE RUIN ALBUM. Even not the part that is sung by Madeleine, but the back voices Joey’s harmonies sing in the final chorus at 4:28 and till the end. OOOOH WHY SO GOOD.

If I don’t make it back from where i’ve gone just know I loved you all along — this is such a beautiful closing of the song. also such a tormenting thought. i love it.

Such endless blue — I’ve always been drawn to the dark blue colours, especially when I paint. I always run out of the blue watercolour because contrary to this song, it’s not endless :D I’m manifesting an abyss of blue watercolour for myself here lol

You say the words so often but I barely know the meaning — okay so Elsa’ Song is primarily pretty heartbreaking right? The more heartbreaking part being that it is sung as a lullaby. Who didn’t have that moment when the meaning of the words you’re saying slips through your fingers just because you said them too often? Who didn’t have that sad awakening moment of losing trust in a person just because they always promised something and never did it?

After summers of fasting I feel hunger at last — I’ve been thinking about tattooing this quote for quite a while now. It reminds me of my depressive state which very often returned to me in summer and every time it slowly creeped away, I felt the hunger for life in the early autumn.  Every time felt like an eternity. 

Is nought but fumble-falls and guns and tumbleweeds, love, run — my favourite quote from the superior use of the English language that is that section in Love Run. I am in love with it. All the phonetic twirls makes me shiver sometimes.

Well, hello my hollow Holofernes — ALLITERATION SUPREMACY!!  

I’ll sing silence and ask my glass of wine for guidance — i love to sit at home alone and stare into my glass. it doesn’t answer though. what about it. and again — to sing silence? OXYMORONS GIVE ME THEM

Go tell me how we fucked you up and oh my god, it’s so unfair — ah. the hardship of parenting/teaching. I was there, I remember it all too well. 

Let’s us waltz for the dead — the oxymoronic style of this line IS JUST A CHEF’S KISS. WALTZ? VERY SOPHISTICATED THING? FOR THE DEAD? NOT THAT PLEASANT TYPE OF A THING? mister batey let me boop you affectionately on the nose you are so clever.

[puppetmaster13u]

Dies Irae WIP

Have a bit of a wip for way later into the story because I am procastinating on the beginning lol. So have a lil bit of Dick's pov

👻🔥🦇👻🔥🦇👻🔥🦇👻🔥🦇👻🔥🦇👻🔥🦇👻🔥🦇

   “These assholes again?” Red Hood muttered, sounding incredibly done even with the modulated voice that came through the helmet. 

   Dick eyed the man, then let his gaze shift towards the people in white with- apparently- laser guns. Then turned his gaze back to Bruce, whose jaw was set in his usual not-quite a scowl that meant he was going over something and not liking the picture it was painting. Joy. 

   And tonight had started out so well with them actually being able to find the maybe-crime boss. It was hard to tell if the man-who-might-be-younger-then-Dick was actually one or just got latched onto by the Crime Alley residents as a guardian alongside Peter. Though the meta was more of a local semi-celebrity. 

   The crime lord (if he was one) cracked his neck, those weird- but pretty cool- ribbons circling around him almost defensively. “Oi, big bird, old man, you gonna’ stop me from hurting these idiots?” he called towards the two of them from where he was also ducked around a support pillar, interrupting one of the goons-in-white’s own spat out words. 

   Honestly Dick hadn’t caught the man’s words, though knowing B they’d comb over every bit of the footage from their suits after this. But well, the dude obviously felt it was important if the downright thunderous expression was to go by. 

   A glance at B’s face nearly had him wincing. Yeah whatever had been said, Bruce really hadn’t appreciated or liked it in any way either. Still, he responded to Hood with a growl in his voice even as a batarang found its way into his fingers. “We don’t kill-”

   Hood audibly scoffed, even over the sound of the laser-guns. “Well too bad I’m not one of your oversized pigeons,” the maybe-teen snarked, guns suddenly in his hands. Damn, Dick hadn’t even seen him grab them, they’d almost just appeared in his hands like they’d been summoned in the time it took him to blink. 

   “Hey now,” Dick found himself joking as he peered back around the metal while trying not to get his head taken off. “What have I ever done to you to call me that, huh?” 

   “Exist.” The word was punctuated by a few shots of the… hm, .45 guns he thinks? It wasn’t like he knew what specifics Hood used or that he knew everything about them. Gosh he wished he wasn’t out of birdarangs, even if Bruce passed him a few batarangs to throw. 

   Not helping was the fact that Hood had cut both of his (), meaning he couldn’t swing up to the rafters to get a drop on the… okay that was a lot of people. Now suddenly less as one quite literally exploded into gore, definitely not from any sort of weapon of theirs. 

   A glance towards Hood nearly made him miss his throw towards one of the white-wearing goons. The trenchcoat the maybe-teen was literally writhing, glowing and shimmering like living flames as sparks trailed behind him. 

   Okay, alright, Hood was apparently a meta like Peter too. An undead meta fighting against people claiming to be part of the government and wanting to murder him for being a… ghost? What like Deadman? 

   Dick’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. He was definitely missing something here, and judging from B’s scowl he wasn’t enjoying having only part of a puzzle either. 

[fritz-federleicht]

Hot days/ Vessel x reader

Summary: Vessel cares about your health

Words: 828

FLUFF

---------------------------------------------

III, IV and you are standing in front of a small building. The two masked men are stepping from one leg to the other. You wonder why. Today is such a hot day, you prefer to move as little as possible.

'They are excited that's why they are doing this' you think to yourself. They're performing at a big festival today.

Suddenly, arms painted black wrap around you and pull you against a hard chest. Cold metal from a chain cools your back. "How are you love?" A deep voice asks you.

You lift your head and look over your shoulder. Vessel looks down at you, smiling. He is wearing his white mask. "I'm fine."

He leans down to you and nestles his head against yours. "Have you had enough to drink?"

"I don't know."

He turns you around, you look at his black chest. "It's really warm today. Have another drink then." He says worriedly. "Promise me!" You nod.

"Answer me Y/N." His fingers touch your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye.

"I promise."

"Good." He leans toward you and gently kisses your lips. You stand on your tiptoes to reach him better. He pulls away.

"Really sweet how you care for her Vessel." Says lll. You clearly hear jealousy in his voice.

You disengage from his arms and turn around. The sun burns in your eyes, you squint them. "Do I hear jealousy?"

Vessel chuckles softly and stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you.

III replies. "No. I think you guys are really cute." He tries to be nice, but his angry tone is hard to hide.

Vessel stares at him angrily, then looks at you. "Does the sun bother you babe? You're squinting your eyes like that." His hands slip just below your chest.

"Yeah but I'm fine."

"Wait." He loosens his arms and stands in front of you, shielding and protecting you from the sun with his large body.

You see him in his stage outfit for the first time today. He looks good as always. The hood of his black robe covers his hair. His jeans are wrapped with a ribbon on his lower legs. A golden chain dangles around his neck.

Finally, you stare at his black-painted chest. The sweat only accentuates his abs.

He holds his hand out to you. "Y/N would you rather take a picture? It'll last longer." Your gaze roams up to his face. He grins cheekily under his mask. You blush.

"I already have enough of them. But thanks for the offer." You answer playfully and take his hand. You're pretty sure he's blushing under the paint.

IV laughs next to you, "We didn't want to know."

Vessel looks at you. You can't break his gaze. Is he angry now because you exposed him to the others? Or does he not mind?

He just looks at you. You feel his cold rings as he squeezes your hand. His thumb slowly circles the back of your hand.

You grin at IV. "You're just jealous."

Vessel pulls on your hand. His eyes signal you to stop. You look down at your entwined hands.

For a moment, no one says anything until Vessel clears his throat. "Where's II?" He looks around and moves. The sun blinds you. Immediately, he places himself in front of you again.

"He's exploring." Answers III. Vessel nods.

"Darling?" He releases his hand from yours and holds it out to you. You look at him questioningly and stand in front of him. He strokes your cheek with his thumb, caressing it. You lean into his touch.

"Hmmm?"

"You're okay?" He asks, concerned.

"Yes. It's just the heat." You put your hand on his.

"You need to drink more."

You sigh. "I will in a minute."

"Do you want me to get you something? Do you want a water?"

"I'm alright. Don't worry." You reassure him.

He nods. You tilt your head and kiss his wrist. He smiles faintly and cups your face. He gently kisses your lips. Your nose grazes his mask, making it harder to kiss him.

Between two kisses, he says. "I just love you so much." He pulls away from you.

"I love you too."

His hand tangles in your hair. You snuggle against his chest. He cradles you in his arms. "Please never leave me." He whispers against your hair.

"I won't." You murmur against his chest. At the same time, you're sure you have black paint on your body by now.

He kisses your forehead. Then he pulls away. "You've got some paint there." He tries to wipe the paint off your face with his thumbs.

"I'll wash it off later." You say with a smile.

"No don't do that. That way everyone knows you're mine."

You laugh and shake your head.

Eventually you talk with III and IV, later joined by II.

[roboticspacecase]

Billdip kiss 44

44. Kiss...of Lust

"What do you think of this one?" Dipper did a small spin in front of his bed where his boyfriend sat. The blond looked up from his phone, told to keep his eyes off of the other until he was done changing.

"I think you look like a big ass nerd," Bill snorted.

"You've said that every time, it's getting old." Dipper pouted, his arms falling to his side with a loud huff. "I just want to get my Frodo costume right, and you're being no help. You've seen the movies a couple of times with me, you should know which cape and pants look the best. But if you really don't want to help me, then you can just go downstairs and wait for me to be done."

Bill chuckled and stood up from the bed. "You want to know what I really think of your costumes?"

Dipper threw his hands up in frustration, rolling his eyes. "That's the whole reason I asked you to come up-" His sentence came to an abrupt end when Bill mashed their lips together, the other's arms wrapping around him and trapping Dipper against him. "That's not helpi-!" another kiss stopped him, and all Dipper could do was huff and lean into his hold.

"I think your nerd shit is so fucking hot, Dipper," Bill growled out. "You're so cute, it's not fair. All I can think about is how cute you are, and how cute you'll be when you take those clothes off and get fucked into the mattress because I won't be able to stop myself."

Dipper's boiling blood filled his cheeks, painting his face red. "O-oh?" he forced out. "I didn't- I mean, you're... Wait, are you into the dress-up part of this? Do you want to fuck Frodo?"

"What?" Bill laughed, unable to keep a straight face. "I just told you how much I think you being a nerd is cute, and you think I want to fuck Frodo Bag- Baggage? Bagger?"

"It's Baggins! We just went over this, you've seen the movies like ten times!"

Bill shook his head. "Right, whatever. That's my exact point, though, Pine Tree. What do you think I'm looking at when we watch those? The cool elves and fights? Sometimes. But most of my attention is on you. When you're so fixated by it that all that those big, beautiful doe eyes of yours do is gloss over. The way you mumble the movie trivia like it's a muscle reflex that you can't stop. Or how you idly reach out to grab my hand when the characters are in peril, even though you already know they'll be okay." He pressed their lips together again, rougher than the first two times. "You're so passionate, it just makes me want to throw you on the bed and give that passion right back."

Words failed to find Dipper's lips, the lump in his throat and dry tongue refusing to form a single one. All he could muster was a nod before he pushed himself forward, mashing their lips together again.

Their make out session left Dipper with tangled hair and strained lungs. His cosplay had wrinkled, but it stayed on as the blond retreated back to the bed.

"Anyway, I guess you could say no matter what you put on, I'm going to like it. And we know now that I have no idea which cape looks better." Bill settled back into the spot he had been before, pulling out his phone once more.

Dipper huffed, taking his cape off and tossing it at the other. "You're going to give me that big speech, feel me up, then just leave me high and dry? What the hell!"

Bill shrugged. "I know you want to figure this out first. So, find the right outfit, then I can truly appreciate your nerdiness and fuck you until you forget which outfit was the one you picked. Then we can do this all over again, and we'll both be left happy in the end. Like the movies. I think. Those end happy, right?"

"I mean, yeah, pretty happy, but you...!" With no real argument to give, Dipper sighed and went back into his closet, sifting through his many different cosplay options. "Fine. Costume first. Then you'd better not be lying about the rest of what you said."

"Trust me," Bill laughed, tilting his phone in a way that made Dipper realize he had been snapping pictures the entire time, "your cute nerdiness will be rewarded plenty later."

[iciatheguardess]

"Viv?"

Icia hesitates for a moment, not realizing he's talking to her, before her head snaps up.

"Oh- hi Tonio..." she replies with a soft smile.

Starro approaches her, trying his best to walk on the creaky ship before sliding onto the bench next to her. "People're wondering where you are, everything okay?"

Icia nods slightly. "I don't like looking out at the void... also, I was getting dizzy on the top deck."

"Makes sense, I dunno how well I'll be able to walk on solid land once we get there."

An awkward silence hangs in the air... Icia's smile starts to fade. Starro looks around, eyes falling on the locket fastened to the first button on her tunic.

"... ummm... You carry that locket everywhere.... it's really pretty."

Her smile returns momentarily. "Thank you... it's one Duni charmed long ago. It has a picture of all my loved ones and friends inside, and the pictures change and flash through randomly when I open it or press a tiny button on top."

"Wow..... all your loved ones and friends?"

She nods. "Everyone. My family in the kingdom. My friends in the circus. The gods. The pirates. You, Aoki, Duni, Lance... even the cats. Everyone who I fight for, everyone who's the reason I do what I do."

"That's so cool..... I um... I actually kinda have a locket of my own-"

Icia looks at Starro in surprise. "You do?"

"Yeah-!" He exclaims, fishing the golden locket out from under his fur. It's well hidden and secured around his neck with a thin leather string. "Take a look!"

He pops the locket open, and Icia's gaze morphs into awe as she marvels at the painting of Starro and Conny.

".... oh Tonio, it's beautiful.... did Conny make this for you???" She utters.

He nods excitedly, a gentle pink flushing through his stars. "Yeah! Just... a little thing to hold onto until I get back."

"That's such a sweet gesture..."

"Isn't it?! OhhhhhhhIlovehersomuchhhhhhhh-" Starro bursts into happy giggles, covering his face. Icia smirks and rests her head in a hand, leaning on her knee.

"My dear Antonio, fratello, you're so very smitten."

He blushes harder, streaks of yellow flying through his rosy stars. "I can't help it! She's just.... ugh, she's so perfect and sweet and soft, and I didn't ever think I'd end up with someone as soft and shy and gentle as her.. but I did and it's- really, she's better than anyone else I've loved, I can't imagine living without her. She feels like everything."

Icia laughs. She definitely understands that feeling, even if Starro's always been romantic like this about people he's loved.... but she's never seen him so truly hopeless for anyone like he is for Conny.

"Any plans to.... you know.... pop the question?"

He pauses, face darkening. "..... eventually, yeah.... but it feels like I only just got her-!!! We have so much to experience first... b-but I will! Just wait, I will and it'll be the most perfect proposal ever!

"God, I can't believe you're getting married before me..... you've always been reserved about marriage 'n dating and stuff. You were the one to be like 'I'll only date and get married when I find the perfect guy'."

"I was indeed. And it honestly was the best choice I could have ever made, I can't imagine my first partner being someone other than Lance. He's my first, my last, and my only."

Starro nods. "I think- no, I know Conny's my last.... I've said that before about others, but I know it this time. She's the one I wanna be with forever."

Icia smiles. "I'm glad we've both found our lifelongs then... even if it's in a way we never expected."

"Yeah...."

As the silence grows, Icia's smile shrinks. The pink and yellow in Starro's stars fades into a medium-ish indigo.

"Everything okay?"

She shrugs, not uttering a word.

"... come on, Viv. Talk to me. Is it just nerves?"

"I don't know Tonio, I'm.. I'm nervous. I'm frozen to my seat.... literally. I still can't believe I'm actually doing this."

She leans against the wall and stares straight ahead at the navigating room, frost outlining her back and head on the wood. "I keep thinking of every possibility... everything Hexe could throw at us... every life on the line.... what will happen once this is all over... it's daunting, Antonio. I'm... I'm just..."

I'm scared."

She turns to him. "I don't want to admit it to anyone. But I'm scared. I'm scared for the kingdom. I'm scared for the lives of everyone on this ship. I won't be able to forgive myself if anything happens to anyone, and I can't take one of you home...."

Starro shimmies closer, putting a hand on Icia's arm. "We're all scared.... if it helps, none of us are gonna stay dead forever. We respawn in the void."

She shakes her head. "Being in the void, actually in it, is the worst feeling ever. It's worse than death. Worse than abstraction. It feels like falling, endlessly.... Dunite says it feels like a physical hatred, clawing at her body and mind. I can't imagine anyone having to go through that, for any amount of time. I'd still never forgive myself."

"You don't forgive yourself for a lot of things."

Icia looks down, unable to reply.

"You don't forgive yourself for going missing with me, you don't forgive yourself for leaving the kingdom... hell, even after we save them, I don't think you really will.... will you?"

The lack of verbal response prompts Starro to continue.

"Look.... we all have things we regret. So do I. I'm not saying I get what's going through your mind, but dwelling on this... dwelling on everything that could go wrong.... maybe that mindset could cost us the rescue."

He winces as ice gets stuck to his fur. "That won't happen, though. Nothing is gonna cost us this mission if we don't let it."

She shakes her head.

"No. Nothing will."

".... Vivian, look at me."

Icia turns her head towards Starro.... he smiles at her.

"You know what you're doing, right?"

"... what do you mean?"

"I mean, look at us, we're on a fucking pirate ship about to save a whole world!!! Isn't that cool?!?! This is literally the coolest thing EVER!"

She chuckles a little at his enthusiasm.

"Viv, you did this. You're doing this now. You're literally leading an army into battle to protect a kingdom!"

"Moreso overtake it than protect-"

"Oh hush, you know what I mean, same difference. Just... you're doing all of this. This is amazing. This is cool. This is exciting."

"This is terrifying."

"Yeah, that too.... but still! You did all of this. You had a problem. You made allies. You enlisted their help and planned for as many scenarios as you could. That's all gotta count for something."

Icia folds her hands over her stomach. ".... yeah... it does."

He smiles bigger. "Vivian. You're literally a guardess. You've always been a protector, but look at you now. This is massive. And it's gonna go great."

He leans backward against the wall, too. "We'll save the kingdom, and then we'll go home to everyone we love and celebrate to no end." His hand reaches up to his neck, clutching the locket tucked safely within his fur.

".... yeah. We will. It's all gonna be okay."

Icia reaches over and hugs Starro gently, using her cape as a barrier to not freeze him.

"Thanks, Tonio."

"Anytime, Viv."

The two sit in silence for a while, before quick footsteps make their way down below deck. Dunite looks at the two, a rare half-smile full of anticipation on her face.

"Hey. Kingdom ahead. It's time."

Icia smiles at her. "Thank you Duni, we'll be up there soon," she replies.

As Dunite goes back up the stairs, Starro stands and stretches, dusting frost and dew off his fur.

"Well, you heard her, time to g-"

[Alert: Familial Link RESTORED. Processing data....]

.... wait...... what?

It's a few seconds before Icia and Starro process the sudden green text above his head and monotone female voice. Both of them tilt their head, baffled by its sudden appearance.

"Where did... where did that come from?" He hesitantly asks.

Icia doesn't respond. She recognizes that message.

The same one she got when arriving at the circus for the first time.

The memory flashes through Icia's vision- traversing through the void, running towards the circus. It was the only world she even knew about, having searched through her own files for any kind of links... as she approached the circus, the message popped over her head: "Familial Link restored".

Why on earth would Starro be seeing that message too then...? If he and Icia's link was already reestablished, then....

.... could that possibly mean....

No. Impossible. There's no way another member of their family is in the kingdom. Icia would know.

Right?

Icia and Starro slowly look at each other, realizing the meaning of the message. Their gazes both hold the same questions and shock, but not a single word is said for a long time. Not even when the text disappears after about 30 seconds.

"Guys?! Hellooooo, kingdom time!!!"

Dunite's voice barely registers in their minds. They just stare at each other in silence, processing what they saw.

It's not just those two anymore.

There's someone else.

Starro finally offers a hand to Icia, expression and stars unreadable.

"We rescue the kingdom first," he whispers. "And then we find them."

Icia remains still for a few moments before nodding and taking his hand, forcing herself out of the icy seat. Each step up the stairs feels like another skip of the heartbeat. She has more family here.

She has to find them.

She has to know who they are.

..... that's not important right now, Icia thinks, forcing the thoughts to the back of her mind.

They're finally here. It's time.

She's getting her kingdom back if it's the last thing she does.

[uraniumnm333]

I NEED TO TALK ABOUT ALL THE SYMBOLISM + REFERENCES IN THE NEW EVENT CARDS !!!! OR I'M GOING TO EXPLODE !!!!!!

Okay so FIRST i'm going to go thru what i think are all the refs here, obviously most of these are probably wronga nd i'm just grasping at straws BUT:

jackpot sad girl (obvious)

white day mafuyu (similair color pal, strings in the front kind of look like the glass shatter effect ? plus the ribbons kind of look like shizuku's card)

kanadetomosusora (that's what i thought when i saw the window in the right background, but i could be wrong)

(not in her card but everyone else's) hidden snow white event (the heart/apple shaped gem)

(ALSO not in her card but) tricologe (the gem)

ANYWAYS i have. a lot of thoughts and theories about this card. FIRST I'd like to bring your attention to the mask that's split in half. what i noticed was how there's a little bit of the white side still clinging onto the black side. i saw this as maybe how a bit of himself is still going to be lost ? like he's never going to be completely whole, as someone else (his mom) stole it (childhood). another thing is the ribbons. if you look closely, most of them appear to be dirtied, much like the vocaloid's drip in the empty sekai. i don't think mafuyu's really worn a dirty looking outfit. i'd argue even in the snow white thing his skirt didn't give the appearance of being dirty, just foggy. but the ribbons all look frayed and stained. and my third thing here is the string that's almost pulled tight around his neck. it's like if he doesn't cut the string with the scissors in his hand (might i mention they look a lot like embroidery or sewing scissors) the string will pull tight around his neck. but it'll also bring everything else crashing down, like the furniture. maybe this is like, a reference to how by embracing how he really feels his life is going to have to crash down before he can rebuild it ?? just a thought yk. ALSO I JUST NOTICED THIS BUT THE LIGHT IS COMING FROM THE SIDE OF THE BLACK MASK MAYBE SYMBOLIZING HOW HIS MOM THINKS SHE IS SAVING HIM (ie light is usually seen as good) BUT IS STILL BAD FOR HIM !!!!! also the wind is blowing in the opposite direction of the light soooooooooo. yeah. mafutime over.

the refences HERE are kinda easy. i think it's mostly a ref to infinitely gray but there might be an i nandesu/nomad ref that was absolutely lost on me. but the way ena is jumping from the gray reminds me of the gray from the infinitely gray set (take a shot everytime i say gray). it almost makes it kind of look like she's jumping out of a painting which i thought was cool. ANYWAYS m thoughts on this card are everything everywhere all at once. i think they gemstone heart apple thing is supposed to represent mafuyu. ena is reaching out because she wants to express her feelings towards mafuyu (she's jealous she's proud of him ect ect ect) but can never seem to reach him. but instead of giving up he's pulling the words apart (the strings) to get to him instead. ena's driven by passion, and even though she's stubborn, that's good sometimes. she wants to save mafuyu, going so far as to break out of her infinitely gray moment. also it kind of appears as though she's going from the light into the dark ? i dunno these thoughts are all over. i also think this card's fun bc ena and mafuyu's dynamic is the most interesting. in the main story ena was the only one not to idolize or pity mafuyu. unlike mizuki or kanade who kind of coddled him or whatever ena was just firing shots at him. ena's card also features a lot of tools used to create things, or artistic kind of things (that thing you use to spin thread, books that someone's written, a picture frame w what appears to be a painting) which might allude to how badly she wants to make things.

i'm pretty sure mizuki's references their ID SMILE event w all the glossy ribbons and such. NOW with mizook's,,,, i have a lot to say. first of all the fact that it looks like they're singing to the heart gemstone. it looks like they're quietly supporting it, but never really getting close enough to touching it. similar to mafuyu and mizuki's relationship, they're usually standing on the sidelines and giving mafuyu pieces of advice but never getting close enough to sharing their own feelings. kinda like how mizuki's afraid of getting close to people, so they never get too close to the crystal !!! another thing is the heart gem on their lapel. for this i'd like to cite their relationshipt to mafuyu as stated in the wiki: "Fellow circle member. Mizuki seems to understand Mafuyu's experience, and does their best to support her quietly." which is basically alluding to the fact that mizuki can closely relate to mafuyu !!! just like how mizuki's gem on their lapel looks similair to the apple gem thing, they both relate to one another in these experienes. mizuki, though, keeps their feelings close to their chest (literally in this card) and doesn't let them interfere w their support w mafuyu. also w the whole shared experiences thing, the string in the front of the card is already cut. this made me think that mizuki has already cut the string binding them to the expectations of others, and is now trying to help mafuyu do the same ? what made me think this was that there's no scissors in mizuki's card, which implies that it's been cut for a while. also there looks to be a vanity stand, dresser and teapot which makes me think of mizuki's love for cute things. similair to ena's card. or maybe i'm just reading intothese props too much i dunno.

i wanted to do kanade's last bc i was just. so hyped. i love this card. i'm listening to the kanade solo cover of hated by life just for this. i love her so much. okay. so first of all i think the ivy growing is a reference to carnation recollection just like how mizuki and ena's are refs to their first focuses. also there's all the musical things which are LOVELY. I AM IN LOVE (is about to change their blog theme just for this). something i noticed was how even though the strings are still present in kanade;s card, they're not tying her down to anything. the things around her aren't tied down, either. honestly it almost looks like the shine of a gemstone (... tricologe. also i'm sure there's a samsa ref here. kanade's special she gets all of her focus events). anyways another thing i love is kanade's relationship to mafuyu portrayed in the card. nobody else is as close to mafuyu as kanade is. unlike ena, she doesn't need to fight to get close. unlike mizuki, she's not afraid to get close. she holds mafuyu close to her heart, without fear of what loving him might be. she's just,,,, *starts sobbing*

she also seems to be underwater which is kind of ???? to me bc like. i don't think there's really any ocean cards. maybe it's a ref to the kanadetomosusora mv when the water's dripping ??? so like now the water's not just dripping it's fully filled up now ? also maybe, since the strings seem to be refering to the control mafuyu's mom has over him, kanade's protecting him from it ??? yeah i dunno.

[neonjawbone]

So, out of curiosity: as someone who's got a long-running web comic AND who's got a novel coming as well, have you found that your process for writing each are very different?

Are there things that are the same?

Did you find one easier than the other?

Did the type of media you were making influence the genre you chose to work with?

Sorry, just super curious since I haven't seen anyone do both before!

ooh!! I love this question!

Yes, I'd say, the process is very different! I've said this to a couple friends so far, but working in prose has been like reuniting with an old friend. Pretty common story, but I was a huge reader until sometime in college (around the time i got on social media and my adhd really took a nosedive), so actually writing (and by extension, trying to get back into reading) has been REALLY fun and interesting. My process for storytelling itself is really similar, but writing for comics can leave a lot up to the visuals. What the backgrounds look like, expressions and character acting, these are things i tend to leave to myself on the page. When you rely on them overmuch in prose, what you get is a kind of boring slog. Working in prose has lead me to try and write not how things *look* (as is my instinct coming from comics) but how they *feel*.

Furthermore, prose is such a different game. Idk how else to put it. The act of writing is so uniquely vulnerable, and while theres things I miss from comics (expressions being wayyyy up there) theres also so much cool shit you can only do in prose. Stuff like really getting into characters interiority, and through multiple pov characters painting different pictures of the world and your cast.

Prose is easier, bar none (okay, this is kind of incendiary) what I mean is, prose is less labor intensive. The act of creating/storytelling/art is still WORK. No matter how you're doing it. And certainly, sometimes I'll beat my head trying to convey something in prose that isn't like, boring. But I can bang out 1k-5k words in a day without aggravating my RSIs, it is not draining in the way that comics are, simply put, yeah. It's physically easier to type words (for me) than it is to draw a comic.

Example: Though I started work on my novel, OTAS, about a year and a half ago, maybe only 6-7 months were spent writing with any regularity (and even on writing days I was still able to do many other things!). The graphic novel I worked on, TPATPG (out in AUGUST!!) took two years of near constant, daily work which allotted a majority of my drawing energy..

Now, I don't think my influences have really changed so much, BUT I made a conscious effort to read prose books with more regularity since starting to incorporate fiction writing. I think it's very important to take in the media you want to work in!!

In conclusion, working in prose has been really fun, and I'm excited to do more of it!

[daddymothxxx]

[.ooc.]

oh yeah, I forgot that I told alex i would make a list of things i like

because i...really struggle with sharing the things i like (childhood parental trauma or whatever)

cats

my cats in particular

non-domestic cats are pretty heckin cool

word searches

the last of us (all parts)

the last of us tv show is pretty good

murderbot / from the murderbot diaries (an autistic, agender, aroace, icon)

Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells

i really like writing!!!

game grumps, idk

my dad

Daevabad Trilogy by S.A. Chakraborty (a liiiiittle slow, but the pay out and everything else is wonderful)

my closer frands! mara, teej (pascall), bee, ruth, and alex

post-apocalyptic and apocalyptic anything honestly? I mean there's some duds, but the genre is one of my favvies

sci-fi fantasy, too

reading/books (when i can get my adhd to focus lol)

pokemon (i was six with my first gameboy color and a blue cartridge)

i really like humanities like history, anthropology, sociology, psychology etc. i think humans are actually pretty fucking neat okay. when the worst of us aren't coloring us as awful, we do really amazing things like...play hide and seek with our pets! name space tech things like 'curiosity' or give it the ability to sing happy birthday to itself! or see a cat on a navy ship and name it and give it a special card and picture! or crochet blankets for babies over and over and over again! or move several ton stone blocks before we had cranes! paint on ourselves and sometimes we put paint in our skin! we're just so fucking cool you don't understand!

i like to cook! dont think i'd make it in a professional kitchen, but at least my stuff is pretty tasty according to family lmao

umm, that's all i can think of for now c:

[justkpopjokes]

Colour of You: Blue

Ft. Dino/Lee Chan × gender-neutral!reader

AU: college art majors, reader has synaesthesia (or mad colour theory skills if u want instead)

Word Count: 1.9k of bullet points

A/N: fun fact, I had sound-visual and smell-temperature syanesthesia as a kid! Anyway here’s a fic that I teased back in 2017 but am only now posting! I remember one of the first readers also had synaesthesia and left a sweet comment, so as an homage to them I leaned into it ^^

This boy’s college major is dance!!

I mean, what else? Cuz dang he is amazing at dancing

Like really good

Michael Jackson is his idol, inspiration, motivation, and inner beast

((Side note, “inner beast” is my new favourite Nick Offerman quote))

So, of course, his favourite move is the moonwalk

I mean, what else?

Well, he has others, but he says it’s the moonwalk to be the best fanboy

Theatrics aside, his favourite part of the day is meeting with other visual art majors in a huge open room

It’s their clubhouse of sorts, where people can come to collaborate on things related to their major(s) and bring in whatever they want for their projects (given that they can clean it up afterwards)

You’re in Chan’s college as a Studio Arts major (there’s a reason!!), so you also go to the same visual arts club after your classes!

You love looking at what everyone else is doing so you can sketch and paint them

People think you’re really good at representing people with colour

And in fact, it’s because you have synaesthesia!

So, overtime, you could identify people and then depict them in the colour your brain assigns them by drawing/painting them!

It’s a sweet gesture you do once in a while, which you sometimes gift to the person if you’re feeling particularly inspired

But in addition to your synaesthesia (and an alternative if you don’t think you can get with the synaesthesia plot line), you also mad good at colour theory and aesthetics

So people will often ask you to find them a colour that suits them the best!

Because of all that you’re pretty well known in your small studio arts major community

But lately, you’ve been keeping to yourself and don’t start conversations on your own

And like no one knows why?? Lmao

Simple answer: You’re crushing on that cute dancer, Lee Chan, whom you see at the visual arts club 👀

Originally, you came to this hangout room to hopefully make some friends

And you did make friends!! But also you became super smitten with this guy

Like he’s so cuuuuuteeeeeee talented and passionate

It makes your heart flutter when he dances and happens to look in your direction

But talking to him feels so intimidating so it’s a huge nope™

Your first meeting was so embarrassing; it was during the second time you were at the hangout spot

You had been sitting next to one of your new friends

You were feeling pretty bored though, so your eyes wandered to some guys who were practicing a dance they choreographed and decided to draw one of them

The guy was Chan, the best dancer you’ve ever seen!

You were quietly focusing on your sketching, capturing the motion and fluidity as best you can in a still drawing

While the dancers were taking a break, you were finishing your picture by adding off-set colours to represent movement

Shades of azure and teal blue splash onto the page, looking almost like an ocean wave

Chan just happens to looks over your shoulder as he passes by

Chan: “Hey, is that me?”

You: “OH. UM—did you not want to be? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Chan: “No no, it’s okay. It looks cool! I like the blue.”

You just.

Just nod. Yeah. Thanks.

(Hoooo boy that’s too many feelings to deal with right now—)

As the days went by, you drew multiple people on one page so it would seem a little less creepy

And you were never running out of people to sketch; there was always someone performing in the open floor area of the room, or people doing drawing challenges and sitting still enough for you to have a good reference

People were always so fascinated with the colours, even more so after you gave them a quick explanation that your brain assigned it to them

Sometimes people would even wear the colour you assigned to them the next day! It was a fun thing to see them match the colour you saw in your head

Thankfully, Chan didn’t seem to mind that you drew him again, too!

Whenever he’d pass your seat—where you were always doodling in your notebook—you would get really flustered because he’d look at you and say “your drawing style is amazing!”

You pour your heart and soul into your drawings of him just because of that

His kind soul deserves it!

After about a year of you drawing people and assigning them in that club, Chan suddenly comes up to you out of nowhere

You’re a bit confused and flustered since you weren’t actually drawing him that time

Chan: “Hi, Y/N. I heard you have, uh, synaesthesia? Is that right?”

You: “Mhm. I associate people with colours.”

Chan: “Cool, I thought I heard someone mention that. I have a question for you about that, actually.”

At this point, Chan is sitting next to you, so you’re a bit antsy and struggling to stay cool and not look weird and not seem like a creep

Chan: “Do you have a colour for my friend, Jun?”

You: “Who’s that?”

Chan: “Oh, he’s the tall guy with the brown hair over there. We’re on the same dance team.”

He laughs awkwardly a bit and at that point you’re unsure whether you should be embarrassed for not knowing or if he’s embarrassed for assuming you knew already

You: “Ohh, Junhui, yeah! He’s purple to me. Like, a shade of mauve, if you know what that is. That and a darker purple. Why?”

Chan: “I was thinking of getting him a gift. Something purple would be cool! I wonder if he’ll like that!”

Chan laughs again, this time with more heart

It’s sweet ^^ So cute okay stop fawning over him

After your very short chat, Chan waves goodbye and gets up to join his friends again, so you watch them block out a performance again

They’re planning to perform at the school’s perfoming arts festival at the end of the year, so they’ve been practicing any chance that they get

Cue the dramatic sigh

You never told anyone, but ever since you first saw him, you’ve always saw Chan as that same mix of azure and teal blue

You’ve always included blue in your drawings of Chan, even if he wasn’t wearing blue

You were actually finishing up a drawing of him now, which he saw again

Chan: “You know, Y/N, you should come watch us at the music festival! Maybe you could draw us performing?”

Then some random dude shouts

“OOH WAIT IS Y/N GOING TO DRAW OUR SPECIAL PERFORMANCE”

It turns out it’s Jun, who had immediately bounded over with excitement

Jun: “That would be so cool! Please watch Y/N please please it’s my last year performing”

CUE THE NERVOUS NOD YEAH OKAY I WILL!!

“Special performance” sounds interesting though, like what specifically is special about it other than Chan being there

Anyways the weeks up to the end of the year are obviously stressful, but you—along with the other arts majors—are anticipating Chan and his friends’ performance

Especially since they’ve organized for you to have a whole easel to work on with a good view of the stage!!

((Think like. Wedding painter vibes lol))

Finally, the day of the “special” performance, you’re set up at your wooden easel, far enough from the stage that you can see everyone

Considering you’d be watching a few performances, you brought quite a few canvases with you so you could paint some other stuff

Maybe even sell them to people at the festival 🤭 the performers would probably buy some

After all the performers have finished, the sun is beginning to set…and Chan still hasn’t performed yet??

Jun said they’d be last, but it’s starting to get dark so you’re losing precious light

But then the lights turn on and Chan and Jun, along with a couple of their friends, are on center stage!!

The crowd starts getting excited again and claps as the music begins

The 4 guys on stage are wearing all-white clothes and jackets, dancing to a modern but sort of slow melody

((Think the intro of ITZY’s Wannabe, something that’s going to give you goosebumps right before the music ramps up

Alternatively, you can imagine Dino’s mixtape Zero for all of this since it was the inspiration!!))

You get right to sketching, already having a plan!!

Wow the all-white really does make this seem like a wedding tho lmao

Then the lights start to dim, and the dancers do some sort of crazy formation

CUE THE BEAT DROP and suddenly theRE’S EXPLOSIONS OF CONFETTI AND COLOUR

All 4 guys on stage have ditched their white clothing and did a quick change, revealing the colourful fabric underneath

THE PARTY. HAS. STARTED!!!

2 of the guys, one being Jun, are wearing purple, just like you had mentioned to Chan before

Meanwhile, Chan himself (along with their remaining friend) is wearing blue!

💙💙💙 BLUE!! 💙💙💙

You’re so taken by surprise that you can barely remember what you’re doing

Everyone is dancing to the music at this point except you, sitting still in front of your easel, paintbrush in hand, jaw dropped, looking up at Chan with heart eyes

By the time the performance is over, you’ve managed to regain composure and depict the whirlwind of blue and purple on your canvas

Some confetti even gets stuck onto the canvas which is pretty cool

Many people passing by compliment you!! You sell a couple paintings too (nice)

But no one can beat Chan’s praise!!

Once he and his team go over to see what you’ve made, they’re blown away by the pop of cool tones you added to the canvas

(Jun wants to hang it up in their practice room lmao)

Once the festival is officially over and people are beginning to leave, Chan decides to help you clean up your paint supplies

You chat about his performance—turns out, he was the one who came up with the colour idea

Chan: “I really was thinking of getting Jun a gift since he’s graduating soon, but then I thought we could use your colours as a wow factor. I noticed you drew me in blue a lot, so I just guessed that was my colour.”

Chan had always been noticing you; after all, he loved your drawings

How creative they were,

The colours you assign to people,

How their colours never changed…

And how he was always those same shades of blue!

But around you, he never felt blue haha

Because he likes you even more than your drawings

In truth, he had a crush on you too, ever since he knew he inspired your wonderful art and you inspired him in turn

He finds you so cute

How you push your hair back when you’re thinking and he can see your face better

How you turn pink every time he walks by (yeah, he notices)

How he hears from your friend that you completely melt after he compliments you…

And he tells you all of this with the remaining adrenaline from his performance today

Which, of course, you confess that he’s right about that last thing…and that you like him too!

So all he can do is scoop you into a twirling hug and make you feel like an ocean wave of blue has washed over all your senses

Blue, the colour of you—both of you.

[skxllz]

{ 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒐 𝒐𝒂𝒌𝒔 }

quote(s): “ i’m a pretty strange motherfucker. ”, “ i will never in my life use mc squared unless it's to calculate the perfect location for a fucking bomb. ”, “ is it true birds don't have nuts or did that movie strays do me dirty? ”

age: 18 (eighteen)

sex: female

pronouns: she/he, her/hers/his

alias: marlo oates

> oates was a misspell on her last name during a time (s)he was arrested. she never corrected it because (s)he thought if was funny.

personality: idiotic, laid back, random, sarcastic, witty, a bit of an asshole, over dramatic, self absorbent at times, annoying, caring

likes: randomly rolling her r's in a stuttering motion, she finds it satisfying (and funny). painting fruit (quite literally). arguing over stupid things just to get a rise out of people. using the word dumbass more than she should. watching reruns of the golden girls with her grandfather. obsessing over billy loomis. playing cod zombies and cussing the screen out. making random noises. saying yeah, okay, cool unironically during any situation. quoting vines, movies and tv shows for the hell of it. practicing tiktoks but never posting them. scrapbooking. making youtube shorts of her everyday life. physically boxing her pitbull. running up the stairs on all four's. walking on train tracks. collecting outside things such as acorns. keeping a random tin of bobby pins in her jacket pocket. doing that thing with her septum where you put your upper lip behind it. + many more.

dislikes: motherfuckin’ ANTS and SPIDERS and BEATLES. the word poop. people who can't have a good time. the smell of pine. the name xavier. being put in serious situations (she ends up finding everything funny). having to act natural in certain public areas. the smell of cigarettes. people who say sure jan. people who don't embrace their weirdness.

appearance: shoulder length, messy, honey brown hair. hazel green eyes. dimples below her bottom lip when she grins. straight nose with random freckles dotting across the bridge. her figure is slim but she do got a bit of that thickums to her ass. height of 5'5. slightly tan skin. full lips. kinda o'dessa what's her face vibes.

additional info: she never graduated high school and dropped out in 11th grade. her favorite color is army green. she has a brother who's three years older than her. her mother is no longer in the picture, and her father is deceased.

[doodletae]

"still life" by rm - mini lyric analysis

I'm still life, but I'm movin' Just live now, goin' forward, yeah A still life that does not stop, keep my flower blooming again

finally time for me to ramble about kim namjoon's stellar wordplay and lyricism :D

already namjoon sets up the seemingly paradoxical nature of this song with that first line "i'm still life, BUT i'm movin'." the word "still" can refer to something's continual action, like "life is still happening", but it can also be used as an adjective, like something is calm and peaceful. when a river is still, it's not moving.

so in the first line, namjoon presents the statement "i'm still life, i'm still living and existing and life is pretty stationary right now" then juxtaposes it with "but I'M moving, i'm the one going forward." yet then he says "a still life that does not stop" implying how no matter how "peaceful" a still life may feel it's always moving through time

Still nonstop life Shall my flower bloom again

you're always moving and your external world is always moving too, so it's easy to feel you're trapped in the same mundane routine everyday. it's a "nonstop still life" and you're just racing to catch up to where you were ten seconds ago. and let's not even start on how this is perfectly visualized in the still life mv where namjoon is on a train, meaning even if he stays still, he's still moving forward with the train, and if the train stops, he's confined to that space for how far he can move forward. i knew the mv would slay, but i didn't know it was gonna be a whole freakin artistic metaphor so props to the producers behind that one.

also super cool how namjoon mentions flowers in these lyrics and he asks "shall my flower bloom again", probably referencing his title track "wildflower". if the wildflower is supposed to represent him, then it's like he's wondering if this nonstop still life will allow himself time to grow and develop.

OKAY ONE MORE THING.

Gimme no name 'cause I'm untitled (Oh, yeah) My life is on display, still life, still life

I want to escape the frame of this canvas (Oh-oh)

a big theme in indigo is about namjoon grappling with his identity in the midst of all these expectations people have about him and namjoon ingeniously introduces the metaphor of a painting to describe this. he mentions how he is "untitled", a moniker often given to pieces of art that don't have a name (which is also how he describes himself in "wildflower"). the term "still life" can be used to refer to "still life drawings" which are what the name implies: drawings of inanimate objects in the natural world. if namjoon sees himself as a "still life", he is quite literally trapped on a canvas in a painting where nothing moves. one might also speculate that he no longer wants to be seen as just an "artist" or be identified only by his "art" since heaven knows that literally describes the last 10 years of his life. it calls back to "Yun" where he sings "i want to be a human before i do some art"; namjoon is perhaps trying to reclaim his status as just another human being living life amidst all these people throwing all their expectations onto him.

The shadow cast over me by yesterday and tomorrow

also the way the line "the shadow cast over me by yesterday and tomorrow" perfectly encapsulates both a person's regrets about the past and their worries about the future, like *chef's kiss* brief and brilliant poetry

I just calmly livе errtime (Oh-oh) 24/7, yeah, baby, I’m on timе I just live every minute and every second of today

and also i love the subtle imagery implied in "baby, i'm on time", which could literally mean he's punctual, but i get the picture of him standing on top of time, like maybe on the second-hand of a clock, so that he's moving forward with time itself and not pausing to think about the past nor worry about the future. he is fully in the moment.

okay that's it for real.

[lady-draws]

【Ｏｃｅａｎ　Ｂｕｒｓｔ】 | SasuIno

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 : Ino returns to her hometown after her father’s passing. She’s plagued by the memories of him, but most especially his love for surfing. To feel closer to him one more time, she turns to the mysterious boy who surfs all the time in front of her beach house, hoping he’ll teach her.

Word count: 3.3k+

Warnings: No warnings, angst, sfw

Part 1| Part 2

The piercing beep from the monitor beside the hospital bed speared into Ino’s head, her shaky blurry eyes shifted to the computer to confirm her suspicions, the green flatline on the black screen echoed in her skull. If her father’s limp cold hand in hers wasn’t enough to tell her that he was gone, then this was it.

This was really it.

Why…

…Why did someone so loving, caring and bright have to go out this way?

She jostled in her seat and held onto her bag tighter on instinct, her mother hadn’t always been the best driver, she usually left the driving to Dad. Ino clenched her fists and let out a shaky exhale, bringing her gaze to her mother driving, the brunette sharply wiped her nose and dabbed the corner of eyes before steadying both her hands on the wheel.

‘Mom, are you okay?’ Would’ve been such a stupid thing to say. She just lost her husband of twenty five years to cancer, of course she wasn’t okay and Ino knew that and for some reason she couldn’t find anything to say to console her.

The silence settled in and Ino directed her gaze to the crashing waves across from her, just below them reflecting the orange light from the setting sun in the horizon.

“Um…” Her mother began, her voice cracking, almost shattering Ino’s heart. “It’s really nice that you’re moving in with us— I mean, me. Your room is exactly how you left it, I didn’t touch anything… I’m sure you’d like the place. It may not be as big and bustling as the city but it’s pretty peaceful…”

“It’s okay mom…” Ino smiled, reaching over and resting her hand on her mom’s thigh. “Besides I needed to get away from all the loudness and city people, I’m sure I’d love staying with you.”

Her mother smiled a bit and flashed her a quick gaze, “You’re right… We can even look around, do some stuff together.”

“Yeah,” Ino returned the sentiments, squeezing her mother’s thigh, “We can definitely do that.”

The cool wind pushed Ino’s long blond locks as her mother made her way up the staircase to their beach house. Ino stared at the lights in the distance and the crashing waves behind her home, her skin prickled with goosebumps and strands of hair blocked her gaze.

“Wow… This place hasn’t aged a day.” Ino blinked at the appearance of her home, worn down a little by age, some of the paints chipped and faded, the wooden poles darker as the flower pots in front had some more texture.

“Ino! Come in! I have something to show you!” Called her mother.

The young woman turned on her heel, pulling her gaze from the mesmerizing waters to her mother standing at the door frame.

“Coming!”

Ino climbed up the sandy wooden staircase onto the front porch. She walked into her home and shut the door behind her, the little chimes on it ringing in her ears at the impact, she looked at the purple chimes and grinned.

“Hey! I remember these! Me and Dad made them.” Ino marveled and took the little metal pipes in her hand, feeling their smooth texture. “That time when I was a kid… his friend taught us how…”

“So you remember.” Came her mothers voice from another room and Ino rolled her eyes with a smirk.

“How could I ever forget. We sat on the porch all day trying to make it.” Ino replied and reluctantly pulled away from it. She took slow steps down the living room, admiring the photos on the wall.

Her parents' wedding pictures could be seen, a wonderful beach wedding with tropical flowers her mother grew, timeless expressions of joy on their faces as he kissed her cheek, her legs in the air, long white airy dress complimenting her flushed skin. Ino’s gaze rested on their happy faces prompting a weak smile.

She took slow steps forward admiring the photographs, her father sitting in the backyard hammock with his funny fisher hat, a little sleepy with baby her in his arms fast asleep. There was another with young her kissing his stubbled cheek, his long blond hair packed in twin messy ponytails and clips, he wore the most funny expression that managed to make her laugh. Ino continued walking and admiring the collage of photographs all on their wall, him in the ocean with her, their surfboards in hand, him sleeping on a reclining chair hugging her, she sitting on his shoulders and reaching for the camera.

And last but not least, she recreating a picture from when they were younger but it was her high school graduation, she kissed his cheek as he laughed, tears of joy in his eyes.

“Ino?”

The young woman froze and turned to see her mother standing at the kitchen counter staring at her. She didn’t notice it before but when the tears started falling from her eyes she couldn’t stop it, even if she tried.

“Ino.” Her mother ran towards her and embraced her, hugging her tightly, burying her daughter in her chest as if smoldering her will relieve all the pain and in a way it did. “It’ll be fine, it’s alright. It’s alright.”

Ino clicked her bedroom door open as her mother handed her the key, smiling softly at her daughter, caressing her cheek and admiring her face before pulling away.

“I made sure to clean up your room before you arrived, got you a vase of fresh flowers from the shop. I know how much you like sunflowers.” Her mother smiled and Ino returned the gesture.

“Thank you mom.” Ino walked into the room with her baggage, taking in the surreal nature of a room she once used to stay in before she left for college. A room that exuded nostalgia and of times she would remember and cringe.

It still had some elements of her tastes, like the murals of flowers and water on her walls, plus the shelf of many outdated magazines that was filled with celebrity gossip issues and fashion tips or the vanity her dad built when she started wearing make up, her little sewing machine in the corner.

“Really brings back memories.” Ino laughed, entering into the room and observing the place. She settled her stuff down and turned to her mom, wanting to come forward.

“No it’s okay.” Her mom halted her in her tracks, “You should rest while I go make dinner, go take a bath and when you’re ready come downstairs and have dinner.”

“But mom–“

“No it’s fine, I’ll be fine.” Her mom waved goodbye and quickly left, leaving Ino alone in her room. Ino stood for a while before sitting on the soft clean linen of her bed. She was already tired from a full day of moving, right now she had to focus on arranging her stuff and taking a much needed shower.

“Goodnight baby, see you later.” said her mother before they parted ways, Ino crashed onto her bed, resting on the fluffy dreamy bed that seemed to alleviate all the aches in her body.

She hugged her pillow and quickly browsed on her phone, texting her friends and thanking them for their condolences. She scrolled through her Instagram page and liked some photos before finally switching her phone off and going to sleep.

Soon, she opened her eyes and drowsily looked side to side, why was she awake now? It almost sounded like something was knocking on her window. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, swiftly checking her phone to see the time.

It was 5:15am.

The knock came again and she brought her gaze to her balcony, she gulped and reached for one of her high heels from her shoe rack, silently making her way towards the glass slide-in door. She pulled the door open and braced herself, ready to swing and scream for her life if it called for it, instead all that was there was a branch stuck to the glass, locked in a loop of hitting it because of the wind from the beach.

Ino rolled her eyes and sighed, breaking the old thing off and massaging her temples.

“It’s just a branch… why’d you have to wake me up now.” Ino tossed the thing aside and looked ahead at the shimmering waters before her, her ears filled with the crisp sounds of the blowing winds and crashing waves.

It was a pretty sight to say the least, she crossed her arms and rested on the wooden railing, admiring the ocean her dad loved so much. He used to take her surfing all the time, but Ino wasn’t sure she still remembered how to.

“Huh? What’s that?” Ino paused her pondering and squinted her eyes at the figure that was zipping across the ocean waves effortlessly. The blonde focused on what that figure could be but it was impossible, just as fast as it came it went.

Ino pulled back, her brows curved. “What was that?”

Suddenly, it came gliding back and slid onto the shores. She stood as still as possible, hoping the moonlight wouldn’t give her away, standing below her in the pure white sands of the beach was a person, but specifically a man. A young lithe man from the looks of it, holding a surfboard.

‘Who the hell surfs by this time?’ Ino thought to herself and squinted closer to see who it could be but she couldn’t see his face.

A sigh escaped his form as he stuck his long board into the sand and sat down, resting comfortably.

Ino blinked, taking a step further to get a closer look.

CRACK!

‘Shit!’ Ino winced to herself and looked down to see the branch she threw away earlier, there to exact vengeance and give away her presence.

“Mm?” Came his voice, calm but with an edge, sending her sliding back into her room quietly. Not wanting to be seen by a random stranger by this time.

Ino let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and kept her back glued to the wall. To think she almost got caught, maybe going back to sleep or just mindlessly browsing on her phone was a better idea.

“Hey Ino? Are you heading to the beach?”

“Yeah! Gonna look around!” Ino yelled from below the stairs, walking to the gathering at the beach ahead.

“Okay have fun! Don’t forget to call me when you need help.” Added her mother from the window, resting against the frame and staring at her daughter growing smaller in the distance.

“Okay! No need to worry so much! Not a kid anymore!” Ino waved before disappearing past some stone walls making her mother sigh.

Ino walked around the shops and kiosks, passed the little stands with peoples paintings on display for sale. She greeted and waved at the familiar faces, friends of her dad and people her mother socialized with.

“Ey Ino!” Came a boisterous voice, dragging her name in excitement. Before she could see who it was, she was embraced in a tight hug, swinging her about like she was nothing.

“Aaagh!—uncle Choza!?” Ino widened her eyes at the man wearing a tropical yellow shirt, his red hair, messy and long as usual. He quickly dropped her down and rubbed her shoulder.

“It’s so good to see you back here! To think you’d come here and live with your mother!”

“It’s so hot and you’re all sweaty!” Ino cried, shrugging off her body from the feeling of him, “…and you got it all over me! Social distancing!”

“Huh? Guess I forgot all about that.” Choza rubbed the back of his head as the young woman in front of him wiped herself with a tissue from his kiosk.

“… And it’s good to see you too, yeah I had to return. It would be quite lonely if mom stayed at home just by herself…” Ino looked at the brawny man rubbing his chin, contemplating her words.

“Wouldn’t you be lonely too?”

“What do you mean?”

“…Hmmm, anyways since you’re back, come later in the evening for some good barbecue! We’re having pork and seafood.” Choza snapped his fingers and grinned at her, “…If only Choji and Shikamaru were here, well it’s not a vacation so there’s really no point for them to be here.”

“…Thank you uncle, I’ll be there.” She smiled, her mind filling with the familiar faces of her two childhood best friends, not to mention her dad’s favorite food was pork. “…Yeah…”

Just as Choza was about to leave Ino caught his attention.

“Uncle!” She called.

“Yeah?”

“Is the surfers hut still open?”

“Why yes.” Choza gave a nod and pointed to the shops in the distance, “…Are you interested in riding a big wave?”

“No.” Ino swiftly countered, her cheeks flushed and brows crossed. “You know I haven’t surfed in forever, I don’t think I still know how.”

Choza raised his brows, hands on his wide hips, “I don’t think it’s that easy to forget something you did all the time when you were a kid.”

“Well, only kid Ino would know.” Ino shrugged and left, passing through the paths between and in front of the shops.

Ino stood feet planted in the white sand and stared at the blue crashing waves, the wind caressed her locks as she remained seated on the ground, a place far from where people were. A heavy sigh left her lips, her back pressed against the bark of the coconut tree and she couldn’t help but sink further into the ground.

The chills from the breeze blowing seeped into her bones making her shiver a bit.

“I hate this.” Ino dug her nails into her palm and mumbled to herself. “…I hate it.”

She pulled her knees closer and embraced herself tighter, maybe it’ll make everything feel a little bit better.

Ino mindlessly stared at the ocean waves, in a couple of days he’d be cremated and his ashes would be brought home, just the way he said he wanted it to be. Ino wiped her eyes and sniffled, this was really it, wasn’t it?

It wasn’t a dream she could just wake up from. He was never going to come back and there was nothing she could do about it

“I hate this.”

She aggressively wiped her tears with the heel of her palm and rested her forehead on her knees, embracing herself closer but the pain in her heart remained the same.

Ino wasn’t aware of how much time passed as she sat on the sand, staring thoughtlessly at the horizon of the ocean and the kites in the distance. If she could sink like a stone she probably would, but she wasn’t and all she could do was stay afloat in a place she wanted nothing to do with.

She sat up, body stiffening at the sight right before her.

“D-Dad?” Ino gasped, staring at the lithe figure gliding across the waves in such a familiar way, all those moves and tricks, the balance. It was all her dad’s.

Ino rose to her feet and followed the figure with her gaze, she didn’t realize when her feet started moving, getting her closer to the person. Following across the shore, chasing to keep up with the pace of her dad.

“Dad!” Ino screamed, her feet digging into the sand, running, running as fast as she could.

She swung her arms with each stride, racing to nowhere, chasing a person she could never reach no matter how hard she ran.

“Come back!”

Ino halted in her steps, almost tumbling over her feet.

“…Come back.” She cracked and covered her face, sobbing into it. “…Please don’t leave me.”

Ino fell to her knees into the shore, splashing the waters around on her descent.

“Please! Please I can’t.” Ino hiccuped, staring into the distance, eyes wide as she caught herself from saying another word, the sudden realization of what she just did. Ino knelt in the waters, silent like an abandoned mansion on a hill, the crashing of the waves and the wind blowing into her ears was all she could register.

She tried to get up but she couldn’t, she knelt, stuck in the ground, unable to tear her gaze away from the darkened horizon.

“Hey, get up.” A voice came from behind her, “…The tides are rising, it’s not safe to still be in the waters.”

Ino looked back to see a lithe figure standing with a dark blue surfboard, his eyes were black and he was pale. Ino stared at him trying to formulate words, to pretend she was alright and lie but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything.

He raised his brows and stared at her, his silence deafening as he tore his gaze away and looked at the dark clouds in the distance. He turned on his feet after some idle contemplation and Ino watched, her mind snapping into reality, she got up from the salty waters and made her way back home, oddly enough they were heading in the same direction.

The black haired man flashed her look and swiftly asked, “Why are you following me.”

“I’m not following you.” Ino clenched her fists, trying to regain her spunk after her mini breakdown from moments ago. She shook her head and walked faster, getting ahead of him so he wouldn’t have to see her face.

He stayed quiet but Ino could feel his gaze on the back of her head and his footsteps behind her. She passed the kiosks and soon turned to look to see him, walking with his gaze ahead. Ino stopped walking and watched him pass her, going in the direction she was heading that was near her house.

“Hey!” She called, gaining his attention, “Who are you!?”

He paused, turning to face her with his long surfboard in hand and black strands sticking to his face, his brows were crossed and eyes centered on her before he chuckled deeply and tilted his head to the side.

“Uchiha Sasuke, second son of Uchiha Fugaku.”

Ino froze a bit upon hearing those names, those were the names of strong political people in the country, anyone who was a citizen knew them. She stood feet planted in the ground aware of the way he was sizing her up, analyzing which behavior she was going to put up now.

“I’m Yamanaka Ino, daughter of Yamanaka Inoichi.”

If he was thinking about anything his expression didn’t give it away, he stood silent for a moment, his face calm yet stoic.

“…” The wind caressed their hair as his gaze shifted to her home nearby. “…Condolences.”

Ino widened her eyes and watched as he turned on his feet and continued walking away, Ino looked and shook her head before walking to her home, when she reached the crossroads she heard his voice.

“Ino.” He called as she turned to look back at him. “Your father was a powerful chairman and had many advantages that benefited not just him but my family—“

Ino tilted her head to the side, wondering where this conversation was going. Was he planning to make some sort of alliance with her?

“… But neither of those things interest me now, what I want to know is—“ He pointed his finger and stared straight at her. “—If you’re half as good as him when it comes to surfing.”

“What?” Ino blinked at him, confused but at the same time she understood, her father was an amazing surfer.

“I want to know if you have the skills and knowledge he had.” Sasuke added. “Do you?”

Ino shook her head and held her face, “I’m grieving and that’s all you can ask!? Get bent.”

She stormed off, leaving him standing with a somewhat confused look on his face, he nodded to himself and clicked his tongue.

[scorpsik]

Uhm, I am very new to Tumblr and I am an old lady and don't know how to work it properly LMAO But as well as painting, I also write. Here is an angsty Emily/JJ Paris fic. Also on A03 https://archiveofourown.org/works/43893136

Don't Leave Me Alone

The drive here was quiet. After their easy conversation in the jet, anxiety had begun to flood Emily as soon as the wheels hit the tarmac here in Paris. The driver – one of Clyde’s guys, no doubt – ferried them from the airport and JJ tried to make conversation, noting the sights that were new to her, but Emily just couldn’t force words from her throat. It wasn’t until they were inside her new home that she managed to speak.

“Hey, it’s not bad.” JJ nodded as she set their bags in the hall and regarded the small but modern flat. “What do you think, Em?”

Emily nodded, then realised she hadn’t spoken. She cleared her throat, her voice a little croaky. “Yeah. Clyde did good.”

JJ ushered Emily into the sitting room and sat her down. “Coffee? I think Clyde would have made sure there’d be some here for you.”

Emily laughed softly. “Cigarettes too if he knows me well enough.”

“Since when do you smoke?” JJ asked.

“Since forever off and on. Besides, we’re in Paris: it’s rude not to.”

JJ fixed them both a coffee and sat beside Emily. “You lived in Paris before, right?”

Emily nodded. “A couple of times – with my mom’s job.”

“Did you like it?”

A shrug. “Kinda. Everywhere – every country – they’re pretty much the same for diplomatic circles – same sort of homes; same functions; same fat old assholes to mix with.” She looked up at JJ and decided to try harder to be upbeat. For JJ’s sake. She really didn’t want to have JJ fretting about her when she leaves. “Uh…when I got the chance to sneak out by myself and look around, it was pretty cool. I like the language and the people here.”

JJ offered a half smile. “It won’t be forever.” She said softly.

Emily didn’t answer, she just took a sip of her coffee. ‘Forever’. Things had already changed ‘forever’. Her body… her mind. Her friendships. “How are the others? Reid? Morgan? Everyone?” she asked. She asked on the jet too, but found herself needing to know again, needing to hear their names so she could picture them in her mind, needing to say their names aloud so that they felt like they were with her.

“Still hurting.” JJ replied honestly. “You know that, Em. Don’t think about it.”

“Hard not to, y’know? I..It’s only been a couple of weeks and I miss them, JJ. I really miss them.” She paused and chewed at her lip. “Have you… seen my mom? Or my dad?”

JJ nodded. “Yeah. They’re pretty broken up.”

Emily nodded and stared into her coffee mug. “We never were close – you know that. I used to think they hated me, y’’know, when I was a kid. I still figured they don’t exactly like me. They’re proud of what I’ve achieved, I know that, but…I never was what they wanted in a kid. But… if they’re that upset, then maybe I was wrong. I…I really didn’t want them to be upset. To have to grieve.” She shook her head. “Shit Jayje… what the Hell do I say when I come back? IF I come back. How do I apologise to them for this?”

JJ shook her head. “I …I don’t know, Em.”

“What a fucking mess.” Emily breathed, wincing as a pain shot across her stomach.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just a pain.”

“You should try and rest. Relax.” JJ said.

Emily snorted. “Right.” She sighed at the sarcastic way that sounded. “Sorry. I know you’re just trying to help. And I’m a lousy patient. Sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it.” JJ smiled. “Look…I’m gonna go out and get you some things. Clyde’s provided the basics, but a girl needs more than that, right?” She paused. “Will you be okay while I’m gone?”

Emily scoffed. “How much trouble can I get into here?”

JJ raised a brow. “YOU Emily Prentiss? You really want me to answer that?” She watched Emily’s face – there was a smile! It was strained and weak, but it was a smile! “I’ll be back in an hour.” JJ assured her.

Emily nodded. “I’ll be fine. Really.”

“Clothes, food, a few toiletries… hair dye, right?”

“Don’t forget the wine.”

JJ chuckled. “With your meds? Uh-uh, Prentiss.”

“Trouble-fete.” Emily muttered.

JJ frowned. “Hey, no fair… what did you say?”

“Spoilsport.”

JJ grinned and squeezed Emily’s arm and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “Be back soon, hon.”

Emily watched her go, her heart beginning to race as soon as the blonde was out of sight. She could feel her chest tightening and her breathing getting faster and she willed herself to calm down. She closed her eyes and focussed on her breathing. Three fucking seconds. That’s how long she was alone before the panic started to rise. Three fucking seconds.

“Christ Prentiss, you gotta get a grip.” She hissed at herself. “In 48 hours you’re gonna be alone for a lot longer than three damn seconds.” She sighed sadly. “A lot longer.” She wandered across to the little kitchenette, poured a glass of water and threw a painkiller down her throat. She was trying to wean herself off them, but the tightening of her chest seemed to be making her stomach wound tug and …shit, it wasn’t that it was particularly painful anymore, but… it was nice to be able to blur the edges of everything for a few hours.

She padded to the bedroom and sat heavily on the edge of the bed. It was quiet. She couldn’t ever remember a silence like this. In the hospital, there was always noise – monitors, footfalls, doors opening and closing, nurses on rounds. And on the jet here, there was the sound of the engine… JJ’s voice. But here, now, she was truly alone. She closed her eyes and listened to the faint murmur of life from outside on the street – but it was getting late now and this was a quiet part of the city.

She licked her lips and stood before the mirror, shedding her shirt and removing the bandage around her middle. Her eyes stared at her stomach, deliberately avoiding rising higher to her breast and the hateful mark that Ian left her with. She let the bandage fall away and moved closer to the mirror, tilting it slightly so she could see the wound more clearly.

“Ugh.” She groaned. It was ugly and large and red. It distorted her shape, leaving small lumps and crevices where the flesh was once smooth and pale and perfect. “Fuck.” She sighed, poking it distastefully. Scars weren’t a new thing for her – she had more than a few already… but they were faded and fine and…this THING was monstrous. Her rebellious eyes moved defiantly to her breast, to the healed brand. The light caught the edges of its shape and her stomach turned over in revulsion at the memory of how it felt… how it smelled… to have that clover burned into her.

She could feel sweat on her brow and upper lip just from looking at those damn wounds. She didn’t want to look at them, let alone touch them and clean them. She stared at herself for a long time. “Hello body.” She said absently to her reflection. “This is you now. Me now.” She ran her hands over the breast that was still in tact and unsullied, then trailed her hand across to the other, her fingers stuttering as they reached the brand. “Still me.” She breathed, the pads of her fingers brushing over the scar.

Taking a deep breath, she let her hands drift down her abdomen and to the big wound. Part of it was completely numb to the touch and would probably be numb forever… and parts were tender and made her stomach flip unpleasantly when she touched there. “I guess those bikini days are over.” She said to her reflection, before bursting out laughing - and almost immediately the laugh became a wailing sob.

Emily swallowed her cry down and wiped quickly at her eyes. “Don’t you cry, Prentiss.” She whispered, pulling her shirt back on and hastily refastening the buttons. She heard the front door close and she wiped her eyes once more.

“I’m back.” JJ called from down the hall.

“Yeah. Be there in a sec.” Emily called back to her, exhaling and checking her face in the mirror. Her eyes were a little red, but she figured JJ wouldn’t make a ‘thing’ of it. She found JJ in the kitchen unloading bags of groceries.

“I got plenty of meat and veg – you need vitamins and fibre and protein, so there’s beef and chicken and pasta…” she paused and regarded her friend. “I just… I bought a lot of stuff.” She held up a box of hair dye. “Deep red. I thought it’d suit you and I can help you with it.” She found herself rambling, trying to fill the flat with chatter. “I bought some flowers too to brighten the place up and… here, have a smell.”

Emily closed her eyes and inhaled the scent. “Thanks JJ. You shouldn’t have gone to that much trouble.”

“No trouble, Em. Are you hungry? I’ll fix us a bite if you like..?”

The last thing Emily felt like doing was eating, but she nodded. JJ was probably starving. “Sure.”

JJ smiled and nodded. “What would you like to eat?”

Emily shrugged, feeling useless. “Whatever. Whatever you like.” She said, trying not to sound too disinterested. She never was a big eater. Dave used to nag her about eating properly and – Dave. God she missed him. He’d make her eat pasta. “Pasta.” Emily said softly. “Just a little for me, though.”

JJ’s smile grew in relief. “That’s good.”

“Want some help?” Emily offered.

“You good in the kitchen?”

“Lousy. I can boil water if it’s a good day.”

JJ chuckled. “Okay – you’re on tomato and onion chopping duty.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The time in the kitchen felt almost like old times for Emily. For that time, she forgot her wounds and even that they were holed up in Paris. It felt safe and familiar and she had to stop herself from throwing her arms around JJ and sobbing in gratitude. They ate in an easy atmosphere: comfortable silences and gentle talk about TV shows and JJ’s kids, and Emily found herself cleaning her plate – small portion as it was. JJ watched her eat like a proud mother hen.

“Ice cream?” JJ asked softly.

“Nah, I’m good.” Emily sighed. “I can’t believe you bought ice cream, Jen. I’ll be twenty stones when I get back.”

Get back.

The thought stopped her and she swallowed down the sadness that washed over her like grief. JJ didn’t need to see it, didn’t need to know how close to the edge of breaking she was. It wasn’t fair to dump that on her friend.

“So what is French TV like?” JJ asked once the dishes were soaking in the sink.

“Like most TV: full of those dreadful American shows.”

JJ grinned. Hearing Emily making a joke was a big step forward, she figured. It helped reignite the hope that maybe, just maybe, this might have been, well maybe not the ‘right’ decision, but definitely the ‘best’ decision. Maybe. Hopefully. God, she prayed it was. They sat close together on the couch and watched a few old US reruns of Cheers and whatever other English language or subtitled crap they could find until JJ realised that Emily had fallen asleep, her head resting against JJ’s shoulder.

JJ watched her, listened to her slow, sleeping breaths, and she gently smoothed Emily’s hair away from her eyes. After another ten minutes or so, Emily sighed softly and stirred.

Lifting her head and rubbing at her eyes, Emily apologised. “Sorry, Jen. I guess I’m more tired than I thought.” She yawned.

“Let’s hit the hay, then huh?” JJ suggested. “Do you… need any help getting ready?” JJ asked.

“No, I’ll be okay. I’ll yell if I need anything.”

JJ watched Emily heading to the bathroom and she sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. It had been a hard day – a hard few weeks – but today was stressful and emotionally draining, and JJ’s head was pounding from trying to tiptoe around the situation…. From trying to block out the knowledge that she’d be leaving tomorrow night. Abandoning her friend to… to what? Loneliness. She chewed at her lip, trying to think of a way that she could stay in touch with Emily. A way that no one – Ian Doyle in particular – would be able to pick up on. She racked her brain over it as she threw a pillow and some blankets over the couch and began to make up a bed for the night there.

JJ busied herself loading the dishwasher and putting the last of the groceries away until Emily emerged from the bathroom in sweatpants and a thin, baggy jumper.

Emily’s eyes noted the couch made up as a bed. “What’s that Jayje? You can’t sleep on the couch – your back would never forgive me.”

“There’s just the one bed, Em.”

“Yeah, I…” Emily sighed and dropped her eyes. “I thought, maybe... it’s a big bed.” She shrugged. “Would you share it with me tonight?” She blushed and shook her head. “Sorry, Jayje… I don’t want to make anything awkward. I just… I just want your company a little bit longer.” She shuffled her feet and whispered “Shit. Sorry.”

“Hey Em.” JJ took a hold of Emily’s shoulders and smiled at her. “Which side of the bed do you want?”

Emily couldn’t help the smile that broke out on her face. “Thank you.”

When the bathroom was free and JJ stepped inside, she noted the regimented order that Emily had her medicines arranged in – pills; creams; dressings etc. They took up more than half of the cabinet. The hair dye and scissors sat on the shelf ready for tomorrow… the shower and toilet had a rail attached to the wall – that would be Clyde guesstimating her mobility, ensuring that Emily could move around if she was less mobile. JJ was relieved that those things would likely be unnecessary, but it showed her the level of caring that Clyde had for his former colleague. She wondered absently whether Emily and Clyde were ever more than teammates?

She cleaned her teeth, washed her face and slipped into her nightwear. She was strangely nervous about tonight. She had shared a bed with Emily before on cases. There had been times when one of them needed the other’s company, or times when it was just too damn cold to sleep alone. But tonight? Tonight felt different. JJ had never seen Emily like this. It had always been JJ needing comfort on hard cases, and Emily needing warmth on cold nights. But this was the other way around: Emily needed comfort and JJ wasn’t exactly sure of the best way to do that. Tomorrow Emily would be alone, and JJ didn’t want to make that harder. She took a breath, aware of how long she’d been in the bathroom. When she emerged, Emily was sat up in the bed looking just as anxious. Seeing that anxiety made JJ cave. Emily needed her. “You okay, Em?” JJ asked softly, slipping under the covers next to Emily. “Your feet are cold.” JJ noted when Emily hadn’t answered.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry – you’ll warm up.”

Emily shook her head. “No. I mean… this. I don’t want you to feel awkward.”

JJ slid her arm around Emily’s shoulders and drew her close. “It isn’t awkward. We’re friends.”

“Thanks.” Emily husked. “I just… I just need someone.”

“You’ve got me.” JJ whispered as Emily’s arms wrapped around her waist and held on tightly.

“I felt so alone in the hospital. And… before when Ian reared his ugly head.”

“You’re not alone tonight.” JJ reminded her. “I’m here. I’m right here.” She felt Emily’s shoulders shake softly and tightened her grip, rubbing Emily’s back gently as she quietly cried.

*

When Emily’s eyes opened, they snapped open sharply, a scream caught in her throat. She sat up, bolt upright, her drowsy brain taking a moment to figure out where she was. Her jumper was stuck to her body with sweat and she wiped at her brow. She had dreamt about Ian. Again. About that awful night in the basement. She could feel the coldness and smell the dampness. She could hear his voice and feel his breath, his hands. She exhaled slowly and glanced to her right. JJ was curled up, sleeping soundly. She stirred slightly - and Emily held her breath – but JJ did not wake.

Emily slipped carefully from the bed and clutched at her stomach. The wound was aching, the internal bruising from the surgery still not completely healed. Her breast felt heavy and sore and she cursed at her brain for conjuring that. The brand was HEALED. It DIDN’T hurt. But still her breast still seemed to be tender. “Psychosomatic.” She hissed quietly to herself.

She wandered out into the sitting room and sunk her weight onto the couch. She fought the urge to grab a painkiller. She didn’t actually need one and she was afraid of letting herself fall into a routine of using them as some kind of release from reality. She knew all too well how habit could become addiction – and she had to stay alert. Just in case HE came to find her.

She shuddered at the thought, wondering how she could fight him off in her condition. She knew Clyde left her a gun – she found it in the bathroom while JJ was shopping. It was hidden carefully, but she knew where to look. At Interpol there were always certain places that notes or supplies… weapons… information… were hidden. Taped under sinks or behind mirrors. The first thing she’d done on arriving was surreptitiously check those places – and Clyde hadn’t let her down.

Tomorrow. No. She looked at the clock. Later today JJ would be out arranging her paperwork and new passport and identity. And then... then JJ would be gone.

“There you are.”

Emily jumped at the sound of JJ’s soft voice. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

JJ shook her head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Nightmare?”

Emily nodded. “I’ve had worse.”

“Are you coming back to bed?” She extended her hand.

Emily took it and let JJ lead her back to the bedroom. “I’m sorry I woke you. Worried you.” Emily said softly.

“Don’t apologise. That’s why I’m here – for when you need me.”

“What if I need you tomorrow, or next week, or next month or…next year.” The thought of spending a year (or more, her brain furnished) stuck here under an assumed name, having to pretend, was a very daunting one.

“I’ve been thinking about that.” JJ nodded. “Online scrabble.”

Emily laughed loudly. “Scrabble? Are you nuts?”

“Hear me out!” JJ laughed, slipping into bed beside Emily. “We can play, and we can have stupid handles and no one will know it’s us.”

“Stupid handles, huh? Like what?”

JJ sighed and shrugged.

“Cheetoz Breath.” Emily nodded.

JJ gaped. “Are you trying to tell me something, Emily Prentiss.”

Emily grinned at her.

“Okay smart ass – what’s yours?”

“Goth Zombie.”

“That was fast!”

“Yeah. You should see me play scrabble.” Emily deadpanned.

“Am I locked into that name now, huh?” JJ asked.

“Yep.”

“Fine.” JJ folded her arms and pretended to pout.

Emily chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Thanks JJ. For everything. I know it’s been tough on you, with the team and all, but…I really do appreciate it.”

JJ smiled softly. “I wish I could do more.”

Emily nodded. “I wish I could’ve said goodbye to them – the team, I mean. And my parents. I feel so guilty. They think I’m dead and I’m not, I’m sat here in Paris of all places eating and drinking and breathing. But…I still feel dead. I’m dead because apart from you, Hotch and Clyde, I don’t exist anymore. I’m someone else now: new name, new personality. Pretending again. Lying again. I’m so scared what might happen if you get Doyle and take me back there. They know about the lies from my Interpol days and now… they’ll just see more lies. How can I look them in the eyes, JJ? How will they ever be able to trust me again?”

JJ shook her head. “I don’t know. But I trust that they will see why we had to do this. I trust that they’ll just be happy to have you back. I trust that their friendship is deeper than you think it is, Em. I hope you trust in those things too.”

Emily said nothing.

“Em?”

Still nothing.

“I know you’re thinking about something. What is it? Come on.”

Emily sighed heavily. “If I just…disappeared then you wouldn’t have to keep up that lie anymore. You could just make my death real and I’d go somewhere, start again. I could make sure Ian never found me.”

“He found you before.” JJ reminded her gently.

“So what? I won’t have anyone close for him to target. He could just do what he always wanted to do and just kill me. And it wouldn’t matter, because I’m already dead to everyone I care about. But now? What is this, JJ? You lying to your friends – to your husband, for God’s sake; Hotch lying to his bosses; me stuck here and Ian – Christ knows where he is. He could be on the fucking metro right now, just waiting for you to leave so he can finish me off and if he does that then this whole fucking charade is for NOTHING! You will have alienated the team for fucking NOTHING!”

JJ stared at Emily in shock, the anger and hurt stunning her into silence. Emily was out of bed again and pacing the other side of the room.

“I need a fucking cigarette.” She muttered half to herself. “GOD!” She stopped her pacing and turned to JJ. “Jesus JJ…I’m sorry.” She hissed at herself. She seemed to spend her whole fake life apologising. “I didn’t mean most of that.” She conceded reluctantly.

JJ scoffed. “I think that’s the most honest you’ve been for a while.”

Emily shot her a scathing glance.

“I mean, shit Em… you should have told us sooner about Doyle! As soon as you knew, you should have come to us.” JJ’s own anger was rising. She’d had hardly any sleep since Hotch came up with this crazy ass plan and the stress of lying to the team at work, and Will at home and watching Emily recovering from her wounds in hospital had been eating away at her.

“It wasn’t your problem.”

“Well it sure as shit is now!”

“Well I didn’t exactly ASK you for any of this did I?” Emily yelled. “I was in a FUCKING COMA when you decided to kill me off.”

The room fell into silence.

Emily turned her back and stared out of the window into the darkness outside, her hands gripping the window sill. She heard the bed creak and soft footsteps padding towards her.

“We didn’t know what else to do.” JJ whispered. “Yeah, it’s a shitty plan, but… we had no time to think. All we wanted was to keep you safe.”

“I’m not made of glass.” Emily hissed angrily, pulling away from JJ’s reaching hand. She turned her back to her friend. “I’m not really angry at you.” She said, although her tone was still sharp. “It’s Ian. God… Ian. You know… there was a time I thought I loved him.” She admitted.

JJ frowned. “For real?”

Emily nodded, her head dropping. “It was probably five months into the job, maybe six, I’m not sure. He took us – Declan and I – away to Vienna. For a weekend there was no business, no guns… just the three of us.” She laughed softly. “Declan was three at the time and God, he loved to cuddle up to me and have me read to him. And Ian was so gentle and… it’d been so long, JJ, living Lauren’s life and… I let myself fall for him. I’ve never been in love, you know? And… it was nice to….to let myself be in love.”

“Oh Em.” JJ sighed, reaching out again to Emily. This time Emily didn’t shrug her away, she accepted the embrace and they held one another, all anger forgotten.

“It’s nearly dawn.” JJ noted softly. “Are you tired?”

Emily shook her head.

“Coffee?”

“Please.” Emily watched her friend head through to the kitchen. Today was the day. The day the JJ would leave.

The day when she would have to start afresh. The last day of Emily Prentiss and the first day of whoever would be printed on the documents that JJ would collect this evening. Who would she be? Who had Clyde crafted for her? The two women sat in the kitchen in silence as the sun rose fully. There was really nothing more to say. Emily was already mentally starting to distance herself from JJ – JJ could feel it. She could see it – the way that Emily seemed to be holding herself: more restrained, more formal. JJ guessed it was the start of the new person that Emily would have to be here in Paris.

“Will you cut my hair?” Emily asked.

“Are you sure?”

A nod. “I need it to be different. The colour you picked? That’s good.” she said.

“Are you ready now?”

“Yeah.”

JJ spent almost the next hour cutting and dyeing Emily’s hair. They were slight changes – a little length taken off and a dark, rusty red dye… but the difference in Emily was quite startling. JJ could truly see a new person emerging in front of her.

“I’ll be gone most of the day.” JJ said softly, her eyes still adjusting to the new Emily. “I need to sort everything with the bank and Clyde’s contacts… get your paperwork and finances ready. Collect your personal papers and background. Will you be alright?”

“Fine.” Emily nodded.

JJ eyed her closely. “Okay. I’ll head out after breakfast.”

Emily nodded, not letting JJ see her anxiety. Not letting herself feel it. In fact, she decided to get some supplies herself while JJ was out: wine; cigarettes; some more clothes; a knife. Just essentials.

“I shouldn’t come back here tonight with your papers.” JJ said softly after they finished a light breakfast of eggs and toast.

“There’s a café near here. Quiet. Le Peleton. We could meet there.”

JJ nodded. “Seven?”

“Seven.”

“And… Thursdays, right? Online?”

Emily offered a smile. “Thursdays.”

JJ took Emily’s hand. “Take care. Please.”

“You too. He’s still out there.”

JJ returned her smile. “We’ll get him. We will.”

The smile that Emily produced didn’t fool either of them. She was more scared of having to go back and face everyone who believe her to be dead than she was of facing Ian.

JJ’s eyes held hers as she stepped to the door. Her soft “Bye.” was almost lost.

Emily pressed her hands to the door as it closed. “Don’t go, Jen.” She whispered to the wood. “Don’t leave me alone.”