Lalamei

Knock. (angst & fluff)

It was this scene again, etched into her mind like a relentless curse. She could smell the acrid stench of burning wood and rotting garbage, mingling with the desperate cries and screams of her neighbors. She was nine again, small and terrified. Her head throbbed with a dizzying pain, the bruising ache from when a piece of plywood had crashed onto her.

A deafening roar shattered the air as another explosion tore through the neighborhood, sending shockwaves of fiery devastation in all directions. Flames danced hungrily, consuming everything they touched. The stench of burning flesh was unbearable—thick, nauseating, and infinitely more horrifying than charred pork or beef. It reeked of something profoundly evil and utterly revolting, a scent that clawed at her soul and churned her stomach into knots.

The black smoke invaded her lungs, a suffocating grip that squeezed tighter with every breath. She choked, each inhalation a desperate struggle against the oppressive heat and toxic fumes that swirled around her, burning her throat and searing her insides. The smoke was so dense it felt like it was wrapping around her, binding her in a lethal embrace.

Amidst the chaos, her vision blurred with tears and pain, she saw dismembered limbs scattered on the ground, charred beyond recognition. The grotesque sight of lifeless bodies, twisted in unnatural positions, added to the overwhelming horror. Blood pooled on the scorched earth, dark and glistening under the flickering flames, a grim reminder of the carnage.

"Mama… mama…" Her voice trembled, a pitiful cry swallowed by the chaos and destruction. Her heart pounded in her chest, a frantic drumbeat against the cacophony of terror. She tried to move, to find her mother, but the fear paralyzed her, roots of dread anchoring her to the spot.

Suddenly, she jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat. Her heart raced as her eyes darted around, adjusting to the dim light of the enclosed room. The air was still, the silence heavy and almost oppressive. There was no fire, no smoke—just the lingering terror of her nightmare, wrapping around her like a suffocating shroud.

“It’s all a dream… just a dream…” she murmurs to herself, wrapping her arms tightly around her trembling body. She’s alive. She’s awake. The nightmare was over.

She forces herself to stand, her legs shaky beneath her as she makes her way to the shared kitchen. The images still haunt her, vivid and terrifying, refusing to fade.

"A nightmare, huh?" Ghost's low, husky voice cuts through the silence, startling her. His sudden presence, as always, is unexpected yet oddly comforting.

His voice softens, though it still carries that rough edge. "Nightmares been getting to you again?"

“I thought you were on guard duty,” she replies, trying to sound dismissive but failing to hide the quiver in her voice.

Ghost leans against the wall, his massive frame dwarfing her in the small room. The proximity is both intimidating and strangely reassuring.

"I was," he says, his tone gruff but laced with a softness he reserves only for her. "But I thought I'd check on ya. You haven't been sleeping well lately."

She looks up at him, meeting his gaze. There's a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, barely perceptible but enough to make her chest tighten. He's a fearsome soldier, renowned for his combat skills and unwavering presence on the battlefield. Yet, here he is, his demeanor softened, his concern for her palpable.

“I’m fine. Just a dream. That’s all.” She gulps down the water, the cool liquid doing little to quell the tremors running through her.

Ghost's expression darkens as he watches her try to brush off her troubles. “Yeah…” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “and I’m the King of England. Those nightmares are taking a toll on you.”

He’s heard her wake up in the night more times than he cares to count. Each time, he hears her whisper in her sleep, gasping for breath in the aftermath of the nightmare. He knows the dreams haunt her, more real and terrifying than she lets on.

“Respectfully, Sir… I think you should let it go.”

Ghost’s eyes narrow behind the mask. “And respectfully… I think you should talk to me 'bout these dreams.” There’s a raw edge to his voice, a hint of pain beneath the brusqueness. “We’re supposed to watch each other’s sixes. How can I do that if you shut me out?”

“Don’t.” She raises her palms, a defensive gesture, but her voice wavers, betraying her inner turmoil.

"Don’t what?" His gaze remains fixed on hers, intense and unwavering. "Don’t care? Don’t worry? Don’t try to help?”

A sigh escapes his lips, heavy with frustration and a touch of vulnerability. In this moment, he isn't Ghost, the fearless soldier, but just a man trying to understand. His voice softens, “I’m not good at this feelings stuff… you know? But you’re important to me. And, hell… I worry about you.”

“Tell that to the woman you kissed at the pub!” she snaps, the words out before she can stop them. Her eyes flash with hurt and anger.

Ghost’s eyes widen behind the mask. Shock and guilt etch across his face, though mostly obscured by the skull covering. He stumbles over his words, a rare occurrence for the usually collected soldier. “I can explain,” he starts, but she shakes her head, cutting him off.

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” she mumbles, trying to maintain a semblance of indifference. “I’m not your girlfriend, right?”

And that… that truth cut deep. She wasn't his girlfriend. Despite the electric chemistry crackling between them, despite the longing glances and the lingering touches, they had never crossed that line. But Ghost couldn't deny the storm of emotions raging within him.

He had kissed the woman, hoping it would ease the ache in his heart, hoping it would dull the sharp edges of his feelings for her. But now, faced with the reality that she had witnessed him with someone else, all those emotions crashed over him like a relentless tide.

He tries again, his voice betraying a crack of desperation, "that woman… she meant nothing to me. She was a distraction. She was…”

But he trails off, the weight of the truth bearing down on him. He had used that woman as an escape, a way to hide from the relentless pull he felt towards her, a futile attempt to silence the longing in his soul.

But now, he can't hide from the truth any longer.

“Let me deal with my nightmares on my own.”

And that stings, too. The way she keeps pushing him away, refusing to let him in, refusing to let him share her burdens. He wants to be there for her, to hold her through the darkest nights, to chase away the demons that haunt her dreams. Yet she keeps pushing him away.

“Why do you push me away?” His frustration spills out, mingled with a raw vulnerability that he rarely shows. "I want to help, damn it. I…"

He hesitates, the words tumbling out before he can stop them. "I care about you. More than I should.”

“And you shouldn’t.”

Those words cut deeper than any bullet ever could. Yet, he presses on, his voice heavy with emotion.

“Why not? Because it’s not what we signed up for? Because it’s not what’s professional?” He steps closer to her, his voice barely a whisper now. His gloved fingertips graze against her cheek, the touch gentle, as if afraid she might vanish before his eyes.

“It’s not professional. I can’t have you risking your rank.”

“To hell with my rank!” His gruff voice reverberates through the room, his hand now firmly cupping her face.

“I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve stitched me up, patched me up. You’ve saved my damn life on innumerable occasions. I owe you that and more.”

His gaze holds hers, pleading for understanding, for acceptance of the truth he's finally admitting. "Maybe it’s not ‘professional’. Maybe it’s messy and complicated. But it's real, damn it."

He brings his other hand to her face, cradling it gently, his thumb tracing the curve of her lower lip. The leather of his glove contrasts starkly against her soft skin.

"I’m done pretending."

His voice is rough, filled with a desperate intensity. The walls he built around his heart, the barriers of restraint, finally crumble as he speaks the words he’s been holding back.

"I don’t care if it’s not ‘professional’. My heart is already yours. And I don’t want it back."

“Am I… interrupting something?”

Gaz’s eyebrow is raised as he uncaps his water tumbler.

Ghost's eyes widen in realization, embarrassment flushing his cheeks beneath the mask. He turns towards Gaz, annoyance and surprise lacing his voice.

"Bloody hell, Gaz! Can't you knock!"

I finished my 4500 word Art Critique today, along with my short essay on research…

The only thing I have left to do is my physics project!! Which I will also finish today!!!

@kaorin47

Desiderium

Tom Riddle and an Original Character

The first teaser…

In the midst of a time where society is plagued by doubt and skepticism, a name emerges, capturing the attention of none other than Harry Potter himself. Claudia Rosier, an enigmatic figure in the corridors of power, holds a high-ranking position within the Ministry of Magic. But as the rumors swirl and whispers abound, Harry senses there is more to her than meets the eye. Haunted by the shadows of his past and the lingering doubts that shroud his own reputation, Harry cannot help but wonder: What lies beneath Claudia's elegant facade? Is she simply another player in the intricate game of power, or does she harbor secrets from a shared history, the dark lord perhaps?

As Harry navigates a world that questions his every move, he finds himself drawn to the enigma that is Claudia Rosier. In her poised demeanor, he sees a reflection of his own struggles, and a flicker of something he thought he had lost—a connection to a forgotten flame. In the midst of dark times, where trust is scarce and alliances are fragile, Harry's curiosity ignites a journey that will unravel the mysteries of Claudia's past and forge unexpected bonds. Amidst swirling suspicions and hidden desires, their paths intertwine, setting in motion a series of events that will test the limits of loyalty, love, and the ultimate quest for redemption.

Prepare to embark on an unforgettable journey, where the lines between friend and foe blur, and the past casts a haunting shadow on the present. Claudia Rosier, a seemingly new player in this intricate tale, holds the key to unlocking a truth that may reshape the destiny of the wizarding world.

Available soon on Archive of Our Own, this will both be accessible on Tumblr and AO3!

Teaser no. 2 will be uploaded soon! (^ω~)

the way I have 12 more drafts to publish 😭🤍🫂

TokyoViews

Thank you sm for tagging me! @sue-the-poemegranate

This or that

summer or winter // coffee or tea // straight hair or curly hair // fiction or nonfiction // necklaces or bracelets // Marshmallows or whipped cream // night in or night out // sunset or sunrise // pizza or pasta // cold drink or hot drink // vampire or werewolf // crop top or oversized hoodie // be able to fly or run at super speed // speak many languages or able to speak to animals // be invisible or read minds // phone call or text // Laundry or dishes // Pool or beach // flats or heels // Stay home or go out // coke or Pepsi // cook dinner or do dishes // books or movies // dogs or cats // Chocolate or Vanilla // Facebook or Instagram // Over-dressed or under-dressed // morning or late nights // always late or always early // dancer or singer // always eat only dessert or always eat only savoury // shopping or museum // art gallery or zoo // Parties or Picnics // white lights or multi-colored lights

Tagging @fai-rys @moonsetlover @hyeri-yah and @ whoever wants to do this !

I was getting so bored. So, I thought of making a small tag game. I hope you people will enjoy it. I took some help from Tumblr for a few options.

This or That

summer or winter // coffee or tea // straight hair or curly hair // fiction or nonfiction // necklaces or bracelets // Marshmallows or whipped cream // night in or night out // sunset or sunrise // pizza or pasta // cold drink or hot drink // vampire or werewolf // crop top or oversized hoodie // be able to fly or run at super speed // speak many languages or able to speak to animals // be invisible or read minds // phone call or text // Laundry or dishes // Pool or beach // flats or heels // Stay home or go out // coke or Pepsi // cook dinner or do dishes // books or movies // dogs or cats // Chocolate or Vanilla // Facebook or Instagram // Over-dressed or under-dressed // morning or late nights // always late or always early // dancer or singer // always eat only dessert or always eat only savoury // shopping or museum // art gallery or zoo // Parties or Picnics // white lights or multi-colored lights

Tagging : @thatshadylilbitch @ukiyowi @the-wild-candy @mistybreak @airas-magicshop @snowflakesluvu @royaleofury @sunkissedchld @eunoiatarot @etherealjaehyuns @ygkidling @pjmnoir @purple-winter @dazzletarot @daszlight @the-falling-star @athena-swords and anybody else who wishes to join.

my new favorite obsession are stimboards

(´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ capt. hong!