#and maybe it's because the photos in the book were all in black and white but i was surprised Again when i got to the last one

[stripedtabbycat]

every time i find myself getting indignant at someone saying shit like "kids these days are stupid and don't know anything about movies made before they were born" i have to remind myself that i am routinely surprised by movies made in the late 60s being in color

[satorusugurugurl]

Models

Pairing: Nude Model!Geto Suguru x Model!FAB!Reader

Word Count: 1,977

Warnings: Nudity, flirting, suggestiveness, fluffy goodness

A/N: This fluffy Friday idea had me giggling and kicking my legs. So intimate and sweet!! Nemsmkekdkdk!!

Nude life modeling.

It was easy, paid pretty well, and it helped you get money for essentials when your shitty part-time job didn't schedule you. All you were required to do was strip down to your birthday suit and pose for a bunch of art students to draw you. The sessions lasted between two to five hours, with breaks. Sitting around naked while posing was an easy way to make twenty dollars an hour.

After a rough week of hardly any tips at the coffee shop, you desperately needed to pick up a modeling gig for the weekend. You needed groceries, and you had been dying to buy the newest book of your favorite series that just came out. Luckily, an evening art class needed a female model. You jumped at the opportunity, not wanting to eat instant Ramen for the third time this week.

Trotting into the art studio, you found it empty, allowing you to change into a plain white robe before the students arrived. Just as you tied the sash around your waist, the door to the classroom opened. You turned around expecting to find the teacher, only to find the sexiest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

He had dark eyes and raven hair tied up into a bun. You could hear the music blaring through his headphones as he tossed his backpack onto the ground before pulling his shirt over his head. With a squeak, you covered your eyes as if you weren’t already in the nude yourself.

“E-excuse me!!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, “Excuse me!! I-I’m in here!!” when you heard the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling, you grabbed a sketchbook off one of the desks, chucking it to the ground in front of his feet.

The man before you jolted, quickly pulling his headphones out. His dark eyes met you for the first time since he entered. “Oh shit!” He hid behind one of the canvases in the classroom. “Fuck! Sorry! Sorry!” You felt like your whole face was on fire.

“N-No, it’s okay! Maybe I have the wrong classroom!”

“Are you here to model for Yaga’s class?” the stranger asked tentatively.

“Uhm, yeah.”

“You're in the right place.”

Slowly blinking, you watched as the stranger peeked his head out from behind the canvas. “I am?” Your eyes wander toward the shirt and belt on the ground before him. “Then why are you—?”

The stranger stepped out in all his shirtless glory. Fuck he was hot, he had muscles for days. While you undressed the rest of him with your eyes, he stepped towards you. His fingers nervously played with his gauges as he stood in front of you, giving you a better view of his body. His muscles and the curves of his body would be perfect for any art student to sketch. If you were good with a pencil, you would have sketched a picture of him because it would be rude to pull your phone out and snap a photo of the insanely hot man in front of you.

“Yaga is going over body movement between two individuals. Like couples and stuff.” He gestured between the two of you. “That’s why I'm here. I guess Yaga failed to mention that in his ad today.” The strange brushed strands of his black hair out of his face. “The other model who was supposed to be doing this with me got food poisoning, so he was on a bit of a time crunch trying to find somebody to take her place.”

“Oh—” your fingers scratch your cheek, “right, okay, so I've always done solo work.”

The dark-haired man hummed in understanding. “Right, sorry he didn’t specify that in the ad. If you’re uncomfortable with it, I can let him know. If we have to cancel the class, that’s fine..” that was probably the best thing to do. But your stomach growled, hungry for something other than instant noodles.

“Ugh, no, it's fine, I’ll do it.” Why you agreed to do it was beyond you. Posing with a stranger, a hot one at that, was one of the craziest things you'd done. “Is it like back-to-back poses? Or are we talking cringe-worthy 90s family picture poses?”

The man before you chuckled as he shook his head, a dusty shade of rose spread over his cheeks. “That has to be one of the funniest things I've ever heard while modeling.” he glanced at the small wooden stage in the vented room. “It shouldn't be too crazy. Probably just us laying down or something.”

“Ah, very cool mystery man.”

“Oh right, sorry.” He held his hand out to you. “I’m Geto Suguru.”

“Well, it's nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself before leaving the room to allow him to change. “Just come get me when you’re done.”

Once standing in the hall, you run your finger through your hair, tugging it gently. How did your simple modeling evening turn into an evening of modeling with the super hot guy? The more important question was how you were going to get through this entire evening being next to said hot stranger in the nude?!

Keep it together. You got this! You told yourself and attempted to ease your nerves. The following 3 to 4 hours would fly by fast, and then you would never see each other again. If you were lying on the floor next to each other? Naked. It wasn’t a super big deal. Just you and a stranger lying on the ground!

Two hours into the session, you stared directly into Geto’s eyes. “Geto,” you spoke softly, attempting not to distract the students around you.

“What’s up? Do you need a break?”

“No, I was just going to say I wish we were doing a 90s family photo pose. You know those kinds where you would sit on a stool, and I would awkwardly place my hands on one of your shoulders while we stare off into the distance?” Geto’s shoulders shook as he tried to contain his laughter.

You had to make fun of a situation like this. Where you were naked, straddling the hips of a nude man you didn't know, only having a thin cloth separating you from each other. It wasn't as awkward as you thought it would be. Thanks to Geto; he made it extremely comfortable for you. Asking for your consent before touching you, he often checked in to see how you were feeling. He was the perfect gentleman.

Geto also happens to be just your type. He was handsome, sweet, and had a killer body; you felt drunk off of his smell and touch. But would it be wrong to ask him out after doing a job together? You wanted to keep things strictly professional. Your stomach, unfortunately, didn’t get the same memo.

It grumbled helplessly, begging you to feed it something with value instead of instant noodles, protein bars, or candy. God, it was so loud you prayed Geto didn't hear it, that he was too focused on posing to notice your stomach’s begging pleas. You thought you might have been in the clear until Geto gently squeezed your hips, drawing your eyes towards him.

“Hungry?” he asked with a slight smirk.

“N-No.”

“Huh, because it sounds to me like you are.” You shift slightly as if moving would cause your stomach to growl at a softer volume. “W-Wait don—nngh.” Something thick and hard pressed firmly against your ass, making you squeak.

Geto groans, his fingers digging deeper into your hips, stopping you from moving any further. All you can do is stare at him. His eyes remain shut tight. Was he hard? Was he, this god-built man, popping a boner with you on top?

“Geto.” You whisper, a smile tugging at your mouth.

“Please don’t.”

“Oh, so you can bring up my stomach growling, but I can’t bring up you hard co-“

Eyes snap open as he shushes you. “I’m sorry, I just think you’re cute and funny. I tried thinking about my grandma naked, but my brain would rather think of how good you feel in my lap.” He breathes out a minty sigh.

His candor had you blushing as you gripped his shoulder. You remain still like that until your stomach grows louder this time. Geto sputters out a laugh as you push yourself back an inch, rolling against his cock, causing a moan to break in through his laughter.

“Fuck, please stop doing that, or I’m gonna cum.”

“Already? Didn’t see you as a pre-mature ejaculator.”

“I’m not—-normally.”

“Says the guy who just said he was gonna cum.”

Geto cocks a pierced brow at you. “I’m like the energizer bunny; I can go all night.” The room feels hot, and it’s not from the lights on you, and it’s not from constricting clothing. The classroom is unbearably hot because of the building tension between you two.

“I doubt that.” You confess in a whisper, rolling your eyes. “How long do you last? Two minutes tops?”

He scoffed gently, kneading your hips. “Is that a challenge?” The urge to kiss and take him up on his challenge eats at you like acid. You inch closer, lips nearly touching, when someone clears their throat behind you.

The sound of them clearing their throat reminds you that you are not alone. The both of you are in the middle of a classroom modeling for a bunch of students. Students that can clearly see and possibly hear the conversation you two are having.

“Later.”

That single word puts a pin in your whole conversation. Geto’s erection goes down while your stomach continues to growl, winning the softest of chuckles from the man you're still straddling. Somehow, by the grace of the gods, you manage to make it through the entire class without your stomach eating itself or grinding down on Geto, much to your amazement.

With the class over, Geto lets you change in the main room while he uses the supply closet. You finish before him, grabbing your things, eyes darting towards the closet. How does one ask out a fellow nude model? Was it just the heat of the moment that had you hungry for his touch? Or was there something truly there between you?

The never-ending questions stopped as Geto stepped out, pushing his hair back, eyes scanning the room. The instant they find you, he’s crossing the floor faster, his backpack slung over his shoulder. There was something in his smile that made you weak in the knees.

“Do you like soba noodles?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your stomach growls in agreement.

A smile so smooth it gives the butter a run for its money graces Suguru’s face. “Let me take you out for dinner and a drink,” he starts heading for the door, “before that stomach gremlin decides to eat me instead of food.” Heart racing, you grab your things, joining his side, hands clasped behind your back.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Geto, but the chances of me eating you after dinner are high.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes, I'd say there is a ninety-five percent chance you’re on the menu for dessert if you want to come back to my apartment.”

“Funny, I was going to say there’s a ninety-eight percent chance I was going to eat you for dessert~”

Glancing up, you nearly stumble as Geto sticks his pierced tongue out. “Then maybe I’ll accept your challenge and prove I can last longer than two minutes.”

You smirk, licking your lips with a starved expression. “Show me what you got from the energizer bunny.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[yeontaescumslut]

𖨆♡𖨆♥︎ ❀᭢᜴꤬⠀ care package

Pairing: Jungwon x Reader

Genre: Idol au, Smut, one shot

Synopsis: You and Jungwon are in a long distance relationship, it’s Valentine’s Day and you send Jungwon a care package with a little something extra for him…

Warnings: Phone sex, masturbation, praise, if you don’t like Jungwon smut pls just don’t read!

Word count: 1,952

Authors note: Hello lovelies! Just a short little one shot for you guys. I’ve been meaning to do some enhypen so here we go! If you guys have any suggestions or recs feel free to leave them!! They’re very much appreciated ❤️

You and Jungwon have been dating for quite some time now, maybe 8 months, you had met at a college party in July last year and started dating later that month. It is now February, and this will be your first Valentines Day together, except you and Jungwon are long distance right now, he’s back in Korea and your back studying in your hometown as your exchange trip has ended. You and Jungwon still talked everyday and were as happy as ever, so you were trying to come up with a gift for Jungwon for valentines day. Alot of things has crossed your mind, plushies, clothes, jewlery, candy, but none of these sounded good enough. After days of thinking and searching you finally come up with the best idea…a care package, with ALL of his favorite things, but you were going to put a twist on it…..

Days go by as you collect many of Jungwons favorite things, finding a box that would fit everything perfectly. You wrap them individually taking your time and pouring love into each gift. Writing a small note on each one telling him a reason you love him on them. You decorate the box to his liking with his favorite colors. On the top you place one of your plushies you sprayed your perfume on. Carefully closing up the box, taping it securely. The next day you take the box to the post office dropping it off to get sent to Jungwon. That same day when you get home from your errands you call Jungwon.

You: Jungwonnieee!!! I missed you sooo much

Jungwon: My Aegi, I missed you more, how was your day?

You: It was great, I dropped your Valentines Day gift off at the post office!

Jungwon: Really?! I’m so excited to receive it. Yours is also on the way.

You both talk for the rest of your night as he was getting ready for his day. You can’t help but to wonder what his reaction will be when he opens your gift,and the little surprise you threw in…a few days go by, you get a message from Jungwon..

Jungwon: IT ARRIVED!!!!!

Switch to Jungwon POV

He’s giddy carrying the package from the package room back to his dorm room, once he gets in and sets the package down, he begins to open it, grabbing a box cutter from his desk drawer a smile painting across his face as he smells your signature perfume emitting from the box as he cuts it open. He sets the box cutter down on his desk peeling the cardboard back, grinning from ear to ear as he spots the bear blush you had bought together when he last visited you.He carefully goes through the contents of the box, taking his time examining each item and reading each note attached, his heart flutters more and more the deeper he gets into the box, he reaches the bottom and sees a white piece of paper reading “open these last, they’re special ;)” he gets excited as he places the paper to the side, he sees a photobook and a little box next to it, the photobook topped with a sticky note that said “open me first” he takes the sticky note off revealing a photo underneath, a photo of you, in a little black dress, his favorite little black dress. This gets him excited, without hesitation he flips the book open, only to be stopped in his tracks as what he saw made him choke, because what he laid his eyes upon took his breath away. With a stunned look on his face he continues flipping through the pictures. These were naked pictures of you, that you had professionally gotten taken, pictures of you in his favorite positions, pictures showing him your everything. Pictures that only HE would ever see. As he flips through page after page he grew harder and harder, feeling himself grow with each photo, as he reached the last page of the book he saw the words “ Call me” and he never reacted so fast. Grabbing his phone he called you immediately.

You pick up, before you’re even able to get any words out you hear Jungwons voice come through the phone. “Open your gift right now.” As son as you hear the words leave his lips you knew he had seen the gift. Jungwon had told you to wait to open your gift as well, so you grab the box sitting next to you on your bed along with a box cutter. “Why all the sudden Jungwon?” You ask out of genuine curiosity. “Dont ask questions and open it fast”

What you don’t know is jungwon is on the other side of the phone, sitting in his desk chair hand on his throbbing cock that’s poking through the hole of his sweats. He gently palms himself waiting on you to get to your gift, your photos in his hand as he does so, biting down on his lip.

You finally get the box open and you pull out another box…you turn it around and your eyes widen as you see what this is “Jungwon” you say with a seductive tone “Use it rn. It already has batteries in it, I wanna hear and see” he says this in a very stern and demanding tone, the one that really turned you on. You don’t hesitate to do what he says, switching the call over to face time you set your phone up right in front of your bed so he can see everything. You open the toy, baby pink silicone vibrator with a sucking attachment, you bite your lip at the sight knowing this is the exact one you asked for. You slip your shirt off revealing your bare tits to him shaking them in the camera to taunt him. You see him lean back a bit more, his top teeth digging into his bottom lip “God you’re so fucking sexy” the words slip from his lips as you’re now turned around shimmying off your juicy sweats, revealing your baby pink and black thong with a bow on the top, his favorites. He lets out a deep groan stroking himself faster. “Lay down, push your panties to the side ass up. Let me see” you do as he says laying on your stomach pushing your ass into the air, slipping your pointer finger to your core to push your panties to the side revealing your lips to him. “Finger yourself for me” he grunts out breathy. With no hesitation you push your pointer and middle into your core moving your fingers in and out pushing your ass in the air more from the pleasure. You hear wet slopping stroking from your phone, slow and steady as you hear Jungwon panting, “Lay on your back, spread your legs and use your toy. Now.” His breath shaky yet stern, as told you lay on your back placing pillows underneath your head so you can see Jungwon, you bring the toy to your heat testing the settings finding one you liked. You insert the toy moaning in pleasure as it vibrates against your walls, the other part sucking on your clit rips a cry from your throat “FUCK” your eyes shut tight as you’re not used to the feeling. “Good girl, now imagine that’s me rubbing on your clit as my cock is buried in you” You can hear his strokes becoming faster and sloppier, the wet sounds sending shivers down your spine imagining his cock buried deep inside you.

Jungwons pov:

Seeing you in this position is sending him spiraling, he’s panting thinking about your walls enveloping his cock, his tongue hanging out of his mouth like a dog in heat. His vision of your legs spread using the toy he bought you puts a burning pit in his stomach, one he tried to ignore. “Jagiyah flip over let me see it from another angel arasso?” He watched you through the camera as you agree with “Yes sir” flipping onto your stomach pushing your ass up in the air once again, inserting it from that position. This sends Jungwon over the edge, he wanted so bad to be the one pounding your pussy from that angle, wanting to take handfuls of your ass. “Fuck baby, I love seeing you like this, I wish my dick was in your pussy right now, pounding the shit out of your ass, making you cry into the sheets” his head being thrown back as his strokes get faster but still keeping his eyes on the camera not removing them for a second.

Your pov:

This position sending you over the edge as well, the toy hitting you in just the right spot, that’s not even what’s sending you spiraling, it’s jungwons voice, his voice makes your head spin, his words painting across your brain, you really are imagining him pounding you and making you feel this good. Tears painting your pretty face coating your satin sheets that your head is buried into. Your basically slamming your hips into your toy trying to feel every vibration. The sounds coming from the other side of the phone making your stomach twitch. “Jungwonah can I cum” you ask politely nearing your high. “Beg for it princess” and you do just that. “Daddy please, let me cum for you, I’ll cum on your pretty cock” this sends Jungwon spinning, whimpers leaving his throat as he tries to form sentences. “That’s a good girl, yes cum on my cock pretty girl” his hips bucking into his hand your moans and screams ripping from your throat his name on your tongue as your reach your high, so overstimulating yet so satisfying, tears falling from the corners of your eyes, Hearing Jungwons cries from the phone, his eyes shut stars painted across his vision as he bucks his hips one last time shooting his seed up onto his stomach, his head thrown back, onto the back of the chair. Bucking his hips into his hands once again getting out every last drop cries ripping from his throat your name also painted on his tongue. You would’ve never known you were 7,000 miles away.

Breathing heavy, chests rising and falling as you both come down from your highs, your eyes open up again looking at Jungwon on your phone screen, sitting in his chair. His sweaty hair falling onto his forehead, pieces sticking in just the right places. Your eyes sparkle seeing him falling in love all over again. You’re now laid flat on the bed not moving an inch the words manage to slip from your lips “Jungwon, I love you so much” he hears this, opening his eyes tilting his head to look at you through his camera, a smile painted on his face, kitten teeth on display “I love you more princess” “You’re so fucking gorgeous” he says through heavy breaths.

He finally sits up, after cleaning himself off adjusting his sweats back into position. He sits and watches you clean yourself up too. You get yourself situated as well placing your clothes back on and sitting yourself at the end of your bed your phone now in your hand. “Well that toy really works holy shit” you say to him kind of giggling inbetween. “I knew it would, next time it’ll be my cock, but let me use it on you next time I see you” he says biting his lip at you and toying with his hair. “Speaking of when are you coming to see me” you pout at him giving him puppy dog eyes. “Well actually….My flight leaves tomorrow, Happy Valentine’s Day!!”

Notice: REBLOGS LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED!! THANK YOU FOR TAKING THE TIME TO READ MY STUFF!!

[storiesfromafan]

Spark - Benny x Reader

A/N: this isn't apart of the series I'm writing, just a stand alone one-shot. I just have a thing for writing meet cutes with Benny x Reader. Maybe it could be its own series.

I got this idea from another one-shot where the reader is in collage with Danny, but I can't seem to find it so I could link it. But when I do, I will add it.

This is the product of a late night, awake till after 1am finishing lol.

Warning: fluff, a little tooth rot.

Books were great friends. They can always stimulate your mind, telling you classic stories and take you on endless adventures. But they could not completely replace physical, flesh friends. So, while in college you had a handful of friends, ones that understood your love for books. One of those friends being Danny, a student studying photography.

Danny is nice, smart and looking at the world through his camera lens, his photos showing you how he sees the world around you both. Because of this you were close, like siblings. And that was why you decided to visit him. He had told you how he was hanging out with a motorcycle group called The Vandals, he was talking about how he was photographing them for the summer and listening to their stories. You found it all so fascinating.

So, here you were, sitting in a large park in the heart of the town waiting on Danny to meet up with you. You had decided to grab lunch and catch up, before later on hitting up the bar The Vandals hung out at. While waiting you had your nose in a copy of Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. A controversial novel for its time, even to today, but a guilty pleasure of yours. Who doesn’t love an anti-hero who gets revenge on the people that kept him from his love?

The loud roar of an approaching motorbike caught your attention, lifting your gaze you saw the bike pull up to the curb a few meters from where you sat. Upon the bike sat a man with greasy blonde hair, with matching stubble, dressed in black boots, dirty white jeans and a Vandals jacket. Sitting there with an idling bike, the man looked behind him before back to what was in front of him. He then turned his gaze in your direction, letting you see his gorgeous face.

You felt your breath get stuck in your chest when his eyes landed on you. How could this good-looking man have you in a choke hold? When he realized you were staring at him, a small smile formed on his full lips. Only making you melt more. He really should be illegal, for he could kill with just his looks alone.

You were unsure how long this moment between you and this Vandal lasted. But the arrival of another bike was what broke it. Hearing Danny’s voice brought you back to reality, turning from the man who had captured you, you saw Danny talking to another Vandal. You pieced together that Danny must have gotten a ride from him. You marked the page of your book before putting it away as Danny turned to see you. He smiled brightly as he called your name.

You returned his smile before getting up and hugging him when he made his way to you. Holding you at arm’s length Danny looked you over. Commenting how different you looked, to which you rolled your eyes, saying it hadn’t been that long since you’d seen each other.

A suggestive whistle caught both your attention, turning you saw both bikies watching you. The one who Danny rode with was the one to whistle.

“Is that your girlfriend!?” Called the man with a laugh.

You blushed stepping away from Danny, who didn’t reply to the guy, embarrassed like yourself. You looked to the guy you had shared a look with, only to see a sour look upon his face. Did he think Danny was your boyfriend?

Both riders readied themselves to leave, revving the engine of their bikes. A few words were shared between them before they looked to you both again.

“Have fun kids! See you later!” Called the second guy.

Both men pulled away and proceeded to ride on, leaving you and your friend alone. Danny looked to you and you both laughed in embarrassment.

“Sorry about Cal” apologized Danny. “He’s a wild card”.

You smile nodding your head. “It’s alright. Shall we get lunch?”

Smiling, Danny nodded. You both turned and began to head for a near by diner. The place was cute and cozy. Taking to a booth in the corner you and Danny looked over the menu. When a waitress came over, you both relayed your orders before being left alone. So began your catch up. You filled Danny in about going home and how your parents were doing. You talked about visiting bookshops and finding some first editions. Then how you had been looking forward to this trip, and seeing how his photography of The Vandals was going.

Danny talked about The Vandals and what he had been up to with him. Telling you about their picnics, how they found themselves scrapping with other biker groups only for them to become friends, bonding over the little things. You found it all so fascinating. Some of the stories would be something you could see being in a book you’d read. You even suggested they would make for good stories for a book or books. Which Danny laughed at.

You both ate and talked, the comfortable atmosphere between you both something you missed. After you’d eaten and the table cleared, Danny finally pulled out some of his developed photographs, which excited you. You smiled at the candid photos of various men from The group, along with some portraits.

“You really have a way of capturing people” you commented moving from one photo to another.

Then you saw it, saw him. The man who first pulled up to the curb. In the photo he was standing at a pool table, hands planted on the edge of the table, head hanging down. You looked over his arms, the tattoos you could see while he wore a black muscle t-shirt. The photo oozed sex appeal. You felt your cheeks heat up from the thoughts and feelings this picture brought up.

“That’s Benny. One of my favorite photos” Danny smiled, having watched your reaction to the photo.

You nodded. “Yes, I think mine too”.

You both laughed, moving on to the next photo and so on. All the while that photo of Benny staying front and center in your mind. You hoped the guy would be at the bar later. The banter between you both flowed, it always had with you both. Danny was easy to talk to, and the passion he has for his art is something you could always listen too. Just like when you talk about books, or saying you want to write your own novel. Danny always encouraging you to do it, write a novel that would one day become a classic read. A book that will be mentioned or remembered fifty years from now. Which always made you laugh.

But to write a novel one must have a creative mind, or experiences that could be put to paper. You may have some creativity but lack any experiences worth writing about. You voiced this to Danny, who told you to go out there and have those experiences. You laughed at him, but he was serious.

“What experiences could I have, huh?” You questioned when leaving the diner. It was late afternoon, so you both began to walk to the bar.

Danny shrugged. “Anything! You’re going to a bikie bar, here’s an opportunity!”

You shook your head but couldn’t deny he had a point. This was a good place to start. You told Danny you would do it; you’d observe the bar and see if you could find a story there. He smiled brightly and was glad you were going to start trying to write something.

After leisurely strolling to the bar, it was late afternoon when you both arrived. There were a dozen bikes in front of the place. But as the night went on, Danny said it would be livelier. Stepping up to the doors, Danny opened the door and gestured for you to enter, which you did. Upon entering you were greeted by the smell of smoke and the sound of music coming for a joke box. Danny led you through the room before taking to a table off to the side. You gracefully took a seat, making sure the skirt of your dress wouldn’t wrinkle from sitting down.

Danny sat across from you, pointing out who was in the bar and supplying their names. Not that you would remember them all so easily. By the pool table you saw Benny and Cal. Benny was having a game with another guy, while Cal watched on and talked with another.

“There’s Cal and Benny” Danny comment, having followed your gaze. “Along with Corky, the guy playing Benny, and Wahoo”.

You laughed softly. “Why are there so many funny names?”

Danny smiled. “They are funny, but I’m not sure. They’re just their nicknames”.

You turned your eyes back to the pool game, eyes lingering on Benny. Watching how he would look over the table when it was his turn, thinking about what shot to take. Watching how he would lean over the table, hands holding the pool stick and resting it on. How his arms moved when he took the shot. Benny’s eyes watching the white ball hitting its target and sinking it. A tiny grin crossing his sinful lips with rejoice.

Feeling eyes on him, Benny stepped back from the pool table, eyes looking to the almost empty bar. Finally, he spots the person, it was you. The little bookworm from the park. The same girl who was close to Danny. That left a bad taste in his mouth, you being Danny’s girl. He had nothing against the kid, but you were just a cute little thing that Benny couldn’t take his eyes off. You looked sweet and innocent, the opposite of him. He felt a spark between you as you stared at each other, but he couldn’t do the wrong thing by Danny. He is a good guy.

Seeing that you were distracted, possibly by a muse for your writing, Danny took the moment to slip away to get you both some drinks. When he voiced this was when you turned back to your friend, giving him a nod and smile. When you turned back, Benny was taking his next shot, which he was successful in sinking another ball. The next shot wasn’t so lucky, but no doubt setting something up. You noted that Benny had handed his stick to Cal before heading to the bar. Standing next to Danny, he and Benny exchanged some words before clapping Danny on the back, grabbing a beer and head back to the pool table.

When your friend returned you questioned him and he just smiled, saying it was nothing. But you didn’t buy it, yet let it go. Taking the offered bottle of pop, you sat back and took a sip. Soon more Vandals piled in as the evening came, then the night. Over time you had met more of the Vandals, talking and laughing, having a good time. Yet every so often you could feel yourself being watched, and when you looked back to the pool table, it was always Benny watching you.

He couldn’t help himself. Benny couldn’t stop watching you, making sure you were alright. Even more so when different men joined you and Danny. Benny knew what most of the guys were like, especially when they’ve been drinking. But from the smiles and laughs, he knew you were alright. Yet he wanted your focus on him, for him to be the one to make you smile and laugh.

After some time it was just you and Danny, you mused over the different Vandals that had joined you and their stories. Even if they weren’t that refined, they had their own charms. Danny agreed with you, before asking if you wanted another drink. You nodded and just like that, you were on your own. Which didn’t bother you that much. You turned your gaze back to the pool table to watch Benny, but he was gone. You frowned, not sure where he’d gone.

Suddenly Danny’s seat was grabbed and turned around, a body falling into it, arms resting on the back of the chair. “Looking for me Angel?” Came a gravelly voice.

You turned to the person, about to make a comment of no. But upon seeing Benny, you sat there quietly. Now up close you could see his eyes were a baby blue, that sparkled with amusement. And fully focused on you.

A bright smile graced his lips. “I’m Benny”.

You sat there like a fool, mouth opening and closing before you finally registered what was going on. “Oh, I’m (Y/N)”.

You could kick yourself at how foolish you must look and sound. But this man had left you speechless. From his looks to that voice, you were in trouble. But he was the perfect muse for your writing. The words you could use to describe him, no doubt that would sell books. Imagine if you used one of Danny’s photos, just to really get the point across to the reader.

“That’s a pretty name” Benny replied continuing to grin. He was a charmer.

“T-thank you” you stuttered.

Not once did Benny take his eyes off you, nor did you take yours off him. That spark between you both in full force. Silently communicating with each other. From this man’s gaze and smile, you could tell he was interested in you. Which in turn made you feel shy. You fidgeted in your seat, trying to remain calm.

That was when Danny came back with your pop and two beers. Handing one to Benny, who never took his eyes off you, and took a sip from the bottle. You gulped at how good he made sipping a beer look. Was he actually real? Or was this all in your head?

Danny looked between you both before chuckling to himself, gathering his bag and beer, he decided to leave you both alone. Not that either of you noticed when he left. Shakily you took a sip of your pop, not once looking away from Benny. He was enjoying this. Enjoying that he was your main focus, and no one else.

Putting down the bottle you felt a little less shy. “Can I ask, what did you and Danny talk about at the bar earlier?” But then felt silly to have asked, taking the bottle and having another sip out of embarrassment.

Benny chuckled, a delightful sound to your ears. “Nothin’ much. Just asked if you were his girl” – you choked on your drink – “he assured me you weren’t” he winked at you.

You coughed softly, hand over your mouth.

“You alright Angel? Do I need to come over and pat you on the back?”

You shook your head, which Benny laughed at. He thought you were so adorable. Getting your cough and self under control, you put the bottle on the table and left it there for the time being.

“You good?” Benny asked after a moment.

You nodded. “Y-yes”.

His smile returned. “Good. Couldn’t have you choking on your drink”.

Your stomach flipped at his smile and words. You felt yourself sinking further under his spell. And if those baby blues kept staring into your soul, you would whole heartedly give yourself over to him.

“Say, you wouldn’t want to go for a ride, would ya?” Benny suddenly asked sitting up, arms still resting on the back of the chair.

You blinked a few times at his words. “Ah, well...I don’t know...”

Benny raised his hands. “You can say no if you want, won’t hurt my feelings Angel” he winked once more.

Your heart skipped a beat. You didn’t want to say no to the beautiful man before you. But you were scared to get on the back of a bike. Not just because of the thoughts of crashing. But because of how close you would be to Benny. Yet the thought of being close to him was so appealing, so thrilling.

“I’m wearing a dress, that isn’t ideal...” you mused, not outright refusing him.

“Is that all?” Benny questioned with a chuckle. “I can work something out Angel. So, we going for a ride?”

Experiences, that was what you and Danny had discussed. Here one was presenting itself to you. Accompanied by the ideal muse. Time to throw caution to the wind.

“Sure” you replied with a soft smile.

Benny beamed at your words. He stood from his chair, moving around the table to stand beside you with his hand out. You looked to his face and then his hand, before back to his face. His eyes told you; you could trust him. He’d look after you. So, you placed your hand in his and he helped you from your seat.

Benny led you through the crowd of people, the whole time never letting go of your hand. He feared if he let go you would run away, and he didn’t want that. Numerous Vandals in passing made comments or cheered their brother on, having seen the interaction between you both for a while.

Exiting the bar, Benny held open the door for you, which you smiled at him for. Words hard to form and voice. Still holding your hand, Benny led you across the street and to his bike. Only then did he let go of your hand while he swung his leg over the bike, taking to seating himself for a moment. Like any other time, Benny started his bike, the beast roaring to life. He then proceeded to lift the kickstand before holding out his hand. You stood there looking at him unsure what to do.

“Come on Angel, I’ll hold your hand while you get on” Benny stated calmly, trying not to spook you.

Snapping out of it, you placed a hand in his, enjoying the feel of his rough, calloused hand against your soft skin. Next you did your best to gracefully swing your leg over the bike, which you kind of succeeded at. Once sitting behind Benny, he instructed on how to tuck your dress under your legs.

“Don’t want to flash anyone, or else I will have to make them forget” he commented, making you blush.

Benny then instructed you would have to hold on, when you questioned how, he moved his hands back and brought your hands around his waist, resting them against his firm stomach, which was more abs. Your blush deepened at the touch to his clothes stomach. Again, he repeated for you to hold on tightly, and that he wouldn’t go too fast for your first time. No doubt you were bright red, did that man not get the doubt meaning of what he said? A soft chuckle told you he did, but he said nothing after that.

Benny pulled away from the curb, heading down the street from the bar and heading for the highway. His initial take of had you grasping his t-shirt, and squeezing him, with eyes closed. He smiled to himself at your reaction, enjoying it oh so much. The way you grasped his shirt, how your nails scratched against the fabric, it did something to him. A pleasant something.

Slowly Benny gained speed before finally hitting the high way. You could feel the wind caress your face and moved your hair. Not to mention the sound of the wind was soothing, numbing the thoughts.

“Open your eyes Angel” Benny softly commandeered. “You’ll want to see this”.

Reluctantly you opened your eyes, before you was an open road, street laps lining it. And when you pass it, you can see clearly before darkness closing in again, till the next lamp. You released the breath you had been holding, amazing at what you were seeing and feeling. If this was what it was like to ride, you could get use to it.

You smiled leaning your forehead against Benny's back before laughing. “This is amazing!”

Now it was Benny’s turn to laugh. Your reaction was cute, but he got it. Riding was freedom. Riding was getting to feel and hear the wind. You wouldn’t get this experience in a car. Taking one of his hand, hand placed it over your own, which still clutched his t-shirt.

His leather glove was cool against your skin, or was that from the wind? You didn’t know, but you liked the gesture from the male before you. It was that moment you knew you had definitely found your muse. And from this experience, and possibly more to come, you would have a story worth writing down. A possible love story with a man that was ridiculous good looking and appealing. And you couldn’t wait for it all.

^___^

[bithcisweartogod]

“lu guang?”

“hm?”

“do you believe in parallel universes?”

they’ve been sitting quietly for a while. it was an overall normal evening, except for the gloomy weather that’s been hanging around for some time. raindrops were hitting against their window in a steady rhythm and everything around looked rather grey, save for a little lamp on the table. lu guang sat on the sofa trying to read a book, but he’s been stuck on the same page for a while now, his focus hazy. cheng xiaoshi, after playing a game for about an hour, was staring into the window. rain oftentimes got him into this sort of mood. pensive. more quiet than usual. 

“why are you asking so suddenly?” - lu guang looked away from his book, grey eyes studying cheng xiaoshi’s hunched frame.

“just. dunno. so, do you?” - he asks again, gaze not leaving the window. 

silence was suddenly back between them, but it didn’t feel pressuring. lu guang had to think. scientifically speaking, the existence of parallel universes wasn’t totally in the realm of fantasy. yet still, it remained too complicated of a concept to grasp and even harder to fully believe into. though the same could be said about their powers, so, well, touché.

“probably don’t. but i wouldn’t reject the idea altogether”.

lu guang’s eyes caught sight of two droplets slowly making their way down the window. as they moved forward, the distance between them grew shorter and soon enough the droplets collided, merging into one. 

“and you?” - he asked cheng xiaoshi. 

a low hum followed.

“don’t know. i suck at physics and all that, but…the thought that somewhere out there, far far away through space and time, there’s one more me living a totally different life…it’s kinda interesting”.

he was looking at lu guang now, familiar glint in his eyes. it felt right. his eyes should always glow like that. as much as lu guang complains about cheng xiaoshi talking too much, prolonged periods of silence are way worse. they make lu guang shift in his seat uncomfortably, stealing glances at him, trying to understand if everything’s alright. 

“maybe there’s a universe where i’m an elite basketball player!” - cheng xiaoshi continues, actively gesticulating. - “or where i’m an actor, or— wait, what’s that expression? you think i don’t fit the role?”

lu guang chuckles, putting his book away. he’s not coming back to it any time soon anyway. not like he was immersed into it in the first place.  

“or maybe there’s a universe where you take your studies seriously and end up pursuing your masters degree like shanshan-jie”, - he says jokingly.

“no, no, no” - cheng xiaoshi waves his hands in protest, expression twisting in disgust. - “ew. what a nightmare. it’s like if…” - he looks up, as if searching for the right example on the ceiling. then he snaps his fingers. - “like if there was a universe where you’re an idol. dancing, singing, modeling, constantly in the public eye, no—”

“alright, i get it” - lu guang cuts him off. the description cheng xiaoshi gives actually unsettles him. 

“see!”

cheng xiaoshi looks at him, laughing, and it suddenly doesn’t matter that it’s pouring outside, because their photo studio is warm, filled with cheng xiaoshi’s laughter. 

“the changes could also be very small, you know”, - lu guang prompts, unexpectedly for both of them. - “like if you were shorter and i was taller”.

“you wish”, - cheng xiaoshi scoffs in return, but continues the train of thought. - “what if my hair was white and yours black?”

he shifts closer, picking a strand of lu guang’s hair and trying to put it on his head. lu guang hisses at a slightly painful tug. 

“how do i look?” - cheng xiaoshi inquires.

“idiot, how am i supposed to tell from that?”

he shoves him away, but cheng xiaoshi’s persistent, so he pulls his hair tie down and picks a long enough strand of hair, lifting it to lu guang’s face. 

“yup, that’s a no”, - cheng xiaoshi declares after a minute of careful consideration. 

lu guang fails to hide his surprise, eyebrows flying up as in asking really? that bad? 

“sorry, guang-guang, black’s not your colour. white suits you best”.

cheng xiaoshi ruffles his hair, ignoring lu guang’s annoyed protests completely, and pulls him closer, arm settling over his shoulders. and even though a second ago he was more than annoyed, now lu guang can’t find it in himself to try and wriggle away. so they both just seat there, eyes closed, listening to the drumming of rain drops against the window. suddenly cheng xiaoshi’s voice breaks the silence. lu guang turns to look at him.

“what if there’s a universe where my parents never left?”

the question hangs in the air, half-rhetorical, half-genuine. lu guang wonders how many times cheng xiaoshi thought about that. wonders if this question was the root from which this entire conversation stems. he wants to say something reassuring, but no words come to mind.

“then everything would be different”, - that’s what lu guang settles for instead. 

“yeah…”

cheng xiaoshi stares blankly at the ceiling, little bittersweet smile on his lips. he turns his head then, gaze catching lu guang’s.

“but you know what? even if there is a universe like that, and even if i had a chance to go there and leave this one - i wouldn’t”.

lu guang doesn’t dare to take his eyes off of him. no amount of timelooping could ever be enough for lu guang to study cheng xiaoshi through and through. a moment ago he was joking like a kid, and now he looks mature beyond his years. 

“you know what’s funny, i barely remember them. mom’s more clear in my memories, but dad just feels… blurry and distant. it’s like i don’t know them, not truly. and then i thought, what if in that universe i’d never get to spend my childhood with qiao ling? what if i’d never get to meet you?”

it’s rare to have cheng xiaoshi talk about his feelings so openly, and something tugs and pulls inside lu guang’s chest, aching with the love he has for him. “i’d never trade a life with you for anything too”, he wants to say. but it feels like too much. he hopes his face can tell everything for him. words were never a necessity between them anyway. and for some reason he feels that cheng xiaoshi understands everything. everything lu guang’s eyes scream about, everything his lips don’t allow to let out. they’re partners, after all.  “how sappy”, - he says instead, smiling, eyes locked on his. that surely destroys the intimate atmosphere between them, and that’s for the best, lu guang tells himself. he’s not sure how long he’d be able to bear it without doing or saying something stupid.

“how can you be so cruel, lu guang!?” - cheng xiaoshi exclaims, flailing his arms. - “i’m baring my heart out for you and that’s what you tell me? seriously, you—”

[cornerstoreclown]

May I like, request a blurb or something that’s describing a moment between art and reader in the little childhood friends au the other anons were talking about 👉👈 Can be anything! Maybe it’s just them reminiscing about their past. It’s up to you

Sure, I can build off of this one! Gender neutral reader x Art, childhood friends au. Since this seems to be a popular one among y’all which has shocked me. Not proofread because it’s 12am and I gotta be in an office tomorrow.

—————————

After dessert, that night you and Art spent hours going through that scrapbook he’d thumbed through earlier and stained with blood. He seemed a little more… Content? After some cheesecake.

Still didn’t make up for you ditching him all those years ago, and he’s certain to continue to hold that against you as leverage to get what he wants until he’s milked it dry.

With his hands now clean because you politely asked him to, you’re watching him take his time with each page. You’re curled up against him on your comfy couch, body leaning into him, your head resting against his shoulder. He supports your weight.

The room around you provides ambiance when you’re not speaking. The sound of your clock on the wall, and the television in front of you both at low volume, playing some old black and white romance movie that neither of you cared to actually watch. The news was an option, but you didn’t want to listen to whatever was going on in the world when all you cared about was right next to you, encased comfortably within these four walls that you could call a part of your home.

As he flips through various pages, there’s all sorts of memoirs of both your youth that ranged from photos to drawings to letters you’d send him. He was older than you. You were younger. But you grew up close together within proximity. You remember digging up worms in the dirt together, observing unlucky dead baby birds that fell out of their nest, watching the seasons as caterpillars turned to either moths or butterflies, and throwing bugs in spider webs just to marvel at the way nature could be so beautiful yet so cruel.

It was a constant cycle of life and death. That’s the way the world works, isn’t it? You think to yourself, as Art is still coated in now dried gore that fortunately won’t stain your couch, but may very well make it stink. He smells like death. And sulfur. He is death.

And he’s warm. So comfortably warm. You don’t have central heating system money, and fall is here. So he’s quite nice. A warm living furnace. But a stinky one. You wrinkle your nose.

“I kept a lot of our memories.” You confess as he’s nearing the end of the book, now looking at the pictures you cut out of your yearbook and slapped between the pages. He doesn’t look at you. It’s almost as if the clown is entranced, enticed and curious about a life that he almost doesn’t seem to recognize, like it’s the first time seeing them. But they’re all him, alright.

Art wraps an arm around your form as he continues to go through the contents of your blood, sweat and tears all pressed between leather and bindings. He pulls you in closer, attention never leaving the pages.

He appreciates the effort of documentation. And, you think, he appreciates you.

[kikiwooo]

[ What are you getting for Valentine's Day? ]

notes; multiple characters

© @/kikiwooo

X.Borg

A really well made heart shaped necklace that he's pretty proud of. It gives off a warm feeling upon coming into contact with your skin.

Julian

A bouquet of chocolate roses. A sweet present for his one and only.

Fredrinn

He has fixed his whole place (Fredrinn's) accordingly to the event of the day, white pink and red.. balloons and sparkles everywhere. Also there's rather a big cake sitting on top of his desk.

Lancelot

Never a Valentine's Day is go not him dramatically asking your hand to a dance in a middle of a rose garden.

Claude

Be prepared to find all kinds of jewellery under your pillow, also brand new clothes waiting for you.

Ling

A baby koi fish that he caught. He knows you'll look after it better than he will.

Natan

He'll get you something really ancient.. like a pretty old fashioned crown left from an glorious kingdom, or an extincted animal. Maybe a rather heavy book about literally anything just because you were interested in it.

Aamon

...Ironically you found the Duke on his knees on top of the bed, wrapped in red ribbon rather tightly and glaring at you with a little note which was written in Gusion's handwriting...

Yin

Did you knew that he's quite skilled in making flower crowns? Whatever he uses to make them they'd look perfect like his smile. By using literally anything

Granger

A photo album filled with the two of you. Didn't knew that he had quite the eye for photography.

Joy

A cake. A full cake...not bitten or licked, how suspicious. It's cute to see her so determined to give you this.

Zilong

A dragon plushy with a long and fluffy scarf he made. He made? He made.

Hanabi

She actually takes you out to a nice romantic dinner. Only the two of you and nothing to hide..

Miya

A nice and a pleasant moments with her under the moon while it shines down onto both of you. There's a small stream down there with silver fish swimming in it.

Argus

A gorgeous white dove. His claw like hands held the creature in his light grip and offers to you- the dive tilts it's head ever so slightly, looking at you with a curious gaze.

Gusion

He got both of you matching oversized hoodies for you guys to toe each other with its ropes.

Lunox

She'll take you out with her to watch many shows and be part to many events, occasionally winning each other many things.

Beatrix

A small colourful notebook filled with you and her's doodles with notes here and there, it seemed to be kept daily.

Nolan

A walk around the Eruditio with him side by side, watching many events of Valentine's unfold. He'd take you to a high spot to watch the fireworks at the end of the day.

Guinevere

This day is so important to this lady, from going to many places, eating every kind of foods and drinking a huge variety of drinks, also going to shopping and returning with dozens of bags.

Lieh

.......he'll let you top him tonight.

Kadita

She'll gift you the brightest and the biggest pearl in her ocean.

Khaleed

A parrot with vivid colours, it has a huge cage and what's the best of it- it's friendly and sings.

Yu Zhong

A charm from the Black Dragon himself to protect you from the evil.

Leomord

Horse riding. Whether you choose to ride with or side by side.

[kinardsevan]

snapshot.

(finally fulfilling that prompt @30somethingautisticteacher sent me about Tommy dropping facts at an art museum / aka, me abusing my art degree.)

They stroll into the museum and Evan is all but bouncing on his heels as they wait to get through admission. Ever since Tommy mentioned going for a day date, he’s been on a deep dive on the Rembrandt collection currently on display. He has so many fun facts he’s excited to share with Tommy that he couldn’t even keep them all to himself  until they made it into the exhibit. 

“Did you know he painted over 300 paintings in his life,” he’d told Tommy on the drive over. And Tommy had responded the same way he always did, always invested in his deep dives. 

“Really, babe? What else?”

He’d launched into half a dozen facts about the artist while they were still on the 10 before remembering that he wanted to save the best for when they actually got to the museum.

So he’s a little thrown when, after getting past admission, Tommy leads him down into the basement instead of up towards the third floor where he knows the collection is stored. 

“Where are we going,” he asks, being pulled along by Tommy’s fingers interlaced with his. He’s not upset, but he’s definitely curious by this change in plans. 

They make into the basement and around a corner, through an open doorway.

“Photo department is always in the basement,” Tommy murmurs as they start walking into the room. “Why they keep them hidden away from the light is beyond me, but…” 

Evan follows after him, watching with rapt attention as Tommy leads him forward, towards the first set of photographs. They’re black and white prints; portraits. A man at a desk with books stacked in front of him. Another man at a kitchen table from the 60s, metal lunch pale in front of him. A bed with a stuffed animal on it. 

“Chauncey Hare,” Tommy states softly, not wanting to interrupt other people’s study of the photographs in the room. “He started out at Standard Oil Company and ended up shooting all this work on the bullshit that goes on in the work place. Got a degree in psychology and abandoned it all to work with his second wife on working against workplace abuse.” 

Evan looks up at Tommy then, a little baffled. Tommy tugs his hand gently, pulling him further along to see more of the pictures. There’s one of a girl sitting in who Evan assumes in her father’s lap, facing the camera. Two other men also facing the camera but not in focus are also in the image. A blonde girl holding a cigarette in the next. A child without a shirt on, laying in someone’s lap. 

“Sally Mann,” Tommy tells him as he continues to stare at the picture of the little girl holding the cigarette. “She shoots a lot of stuff, but her bread and butter are her family, even now. There’s been a lot of controversy over her work because of the state of nudity, but-...” 

“It’s amazing,” Evan murmurs, almost a whisper. He can’t stop looking at the picture of the daughter with the cigarette. 

Tommy keeps pulling him along, showing him pictures, talking about the artists, moving through decades of images, until they’re standing in front of newer work. Color photos. 

Children standing in a doorway. A boy at a table, looking at the camera as an adult holds a baby in the background. Sisters—a blonde and a ginger—next to each other. Three boys on the floor in front of empty chairs. A woman laying in bed holding a small blonde child of maybe one or two, bathed in sunlight. 

“Jessica Todd Harper,” Tommy says as Evan reads the label next to the image. “She shoots her family too. Some posed, some not. Always trying to tell a story about family interactions and complex relationships.” 

Evan stares at him, utterly enamored as they walk out of the area, head back towards the stairs.

“We can still go see the paintings,” Tommy tells him. “I just… I like the photography.” 

Evan stops walking, pulls Tommy back when he keeps moving. His boyfriend looks back at him, gives a small smirk. 

“Did I steal your thunder,” he asks, a little bit sheepishly so. 

Evan shakes his head, stepping into Tommy’s space, resting his hand on his chest. 

“I like it when you let me in like this,” he murmurs. “When you share.” 

Tommy’s smile widens a bit more, even as his cheeks flush. 

“I just think…most people don’t think a lot about what’s happening in an image. Is it real? Or is it just a concept of what you think is real? Is it telling an actual story, or just the version of a story you’ve decided on?And what makes one more important than the other? Is digital better than film? Some people think nothing will ever top painting, others think digital photography is a hack and doesn’t have the same connotations as film photography because there’s less effort in the process,” he states. He pauses for a moment, somehow getting pinker in the cheeks. “That’s what I nerd out about.” 

Evan grins at him and then leans forward pecking him on the lips. 

“Well we’re just gonna have to go see more photo exhibitions then,” he says when he pulls away. “Can’t have you holding out on me now.” 

Tommy rolls his eyes, shaking his head. He tilts his head towards the stairwell again. “Come on. Tell me all you researched about Rembrandt.” 

(I posted all of these pictures on my feed if you want to see them!!!!)

[priceyprice]

Prof!Price

Prof!Price as he's talking about a topic to his students in his classroom.

Everyone was quiet, giving attention to the professor's words. He paced from side to side in slow strides while using his hands to explain everything.

"Symbolism is the idea that things represent other things. Some things have only one meaning, but a lot of other things have different meanings. For example..." He went to his board and started to write the word white on it. Then, he turned around to look at his students. He liked that the students from this class were mature enough not to interrupt and let him do his work. "...The color white. It doesn't only represent the color itself. Represents purity and innocence. Some people even say it represents good luck and peace. But that's not the only meaning the color has."

He started to pace around again. "It can represent bloodlessness, paleness, even death. There's a lot of things that have different meanings. Other things can also not mean anything; like a rose, for example. A lot of people can associate a rose with love, passion, desire, etcetera, but it can also mean nothing in a book. It's just a plain rose in a garden."

Price stopped in front of his desk and crossed his arms, the shirt getting compressed a little bit with his muscles. "I want you all to give me at least 20 examples of symbolism from a story on page 141 of your textbooks. 10 minutes before class finishes, I want to see your work on my desk. You can start now."

The professor turned around and organized a few documents he had on his desk. He could hear the murmurs, zipping sounds, and book sounds from the students.

He sat down on his chair with a little sigh, closing his eyes for a few seconds. He was feeling more tired than usual, not finding the reason for why. Maybe it's because of the number of exams and quizzes he needs to check or the meetings all the professors are having these days or even the hours he spent teaching everyday.

Price is conscious that he's not the same man he used to be in his early twenties, full of stamina, and could do everything in one day. He's now a full-grown man with experience reflected in his beard and a few lines in the corner of his eyes.

His phone vibrated on top of his desk, indicating he has a message. With a bored look, he took his phone and opened the message, but before he could see who it was, a voice interrupted him.

"Professor, we have to find the symbolisms from the whole story or just page 141?"

He looked up at the student who was asking. " The whole story," he said with a smile.

His gaze went back to the phone, smile dropping within seconds when he saw what it was.

It was a photo.

A scandalous photo.

His lover on her knees in front of a mirror wearing nothing but one of his shirts with her hand disappearing inside of her panties.

Price eyes went up to the whole class, finding her on a corner of the middle rows. She was actually reading the book.

Was it actually her and not a hacker? He zoomed the photo, finding her face features and noticing the background is the same as his apartment.

That's definitely her.

?

What are you doing?

He waited for a few seconds until another photo was sent.

This one was more scandalous. She was in front of the mirror, legs wide open and with nothing but a black lace lingerie. A hand disappears in her panties, too.

He could feel the front of his dress pants tighten a little. She looked so sexy in that one, like a goddess.

Stop sending those photos. You're going to get me a boner in the middle of the class.

He looked up to see her smiling on her phone now. It was a wicked smile.

Another photo was sent. It was the same as the previous one, only it was a little shaky, while her hand was deeper in her underwear.

She's doing it on purpose.

He knew what she was doing on this one.

Two

Stop.

Another photo was sent.

This one was the same as the other two, but this one was more shaky, and her head was threw back in pure ecstasy while her hand was in the same spot.

Three

The bulge on his pants was now uncomfortable. Lucky he's on his desk and no one can see the suffering he's having right now.

Stop and do your work.

Another photo was sent and this one almost threw him on edge.

She was completely naked in front of his mirror, with legs wide open and three fingers disappearing inside of her. A little sweat was adorning her skin, giving her a glowing effect. A few strands of her hair were plasted on her forehead, and her mouth was opened. He swears he could almost hear the sweet sound she was making in that photo.

Lord, if heaven looks like this, please don't let me forget this memory for the rest of my life.

The bulge in his pants was painful at this point. If he doesn't stop this right now, he might need to get out of the classroom and relieve himself.

Until he remembered something.

He searched on his gallery for a special photo he had, not pretty sure if he deleted it to erase traces and suspicion of his relationship with her, but it doesn't hurt to search.

That's when he found it.

Does she wants to play? Let's play, he thought.

He quickly sent it with a message below.

If I don't see your work at the end of the class, be ready to receive your punishment.

He looked up and saw her face drop at the photo she received. Now this was his time to have a wicked smile.

It was a photo of her in her knees, taking care of his boner with her hands on his length. Her cheeks were full of him and damped while her glossy and red eyes were looking directly at the camera, making it seem like that was his point of view. She was naked and sweaty. A very scandalous and filthy photo.

She dropped her phone and started to write in her paper faster. He smiled and typed a message.

That's what I thought.

A few moments later, his alarm rang, indicating the time was over. He stayed in his desk because the bulge in his pants didn't calm down.

"Okay, class. Time's up. Hand me the work on your way out." He said in a raspy voice.

Everyone handed their work, and some of the students said goodbye to him. He just nodded and organized their works.

Until the last student hands her work.

He looked up at her for a few seconds, noticing she was nervous and biting her lip, avoiding his gaze at all cost.

His eyes fell to her work and smiled.

A wicked smile.

"It seems like you couldn't finish your work."

He puts down her work and stands up, hands on his pockets, walking slowly to her until he's in front. Her chest rose rapidly, and she gazed to the floor.

He puts a finger on her chin, making her look up at him, seeing her desperate and big eyes with a hint of fear and lust. "I told you what would happen if you didn't finish your work. "

It was safe to say, there's another version of the photo he sent.

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

I apologize for any mistake or misspelling. Any suggestions are appreciated 🫶.

[gunilslaugh]

Black & White Pt.2

Kim Jungsu  Summary: Jungsu used to be a part of light then he switched over to the darkness. (non-idol au) WC:~1.7k Warning:(maybe kinda angst towards the end)

part 1 part 3 epilogue!

photo not mine credits to owner.

When every baby is born they are handed an energy pearl. If the pearl turns white it means the baby’s heart is pure and they will be sent to live in White Clouds. However if the pearl turns black that means that the baby heart is immoral and they’re sent to live in the Black Shadows. What if a baby’s pearl was gray?

Well no baby’s pearl had ever turned gray before. They were always black or white, good or bad. That was until Jungsu that is. The pearl placed in his infant hand turned gray. Not black or white. Not clearly good or bad. It caused quite an uproar amongst officials. What should they do with him? In the end it was decided that he would go to White Clouds with the hopes that his pearl would eventually turn white by being surrounded by goodness. 

Jungsu wasn’t allowed to show others his gray pearl so as to not cause any suspicions. They provided him with a fake one to use until his real one turned white. Maybe it was because of his gray pearl that Jungsu didn’t want to get close to others. Maybe that’s why his personality was standoffish and cold. 

“Jungsu!” you called him. Jungsu turns back to see you approaching him. Your white pearl shining especially bright around your neck. It was known to everyone in White Clouds that you were born with the purest heart. Your pearl shined the brightest out of everyones, so did your eyes and smile. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“Be my partner for combat training,” you tell him. 

“Don’t you have people lining up to be your partner? Why me?” he asked. 

“I don’t actually. Everyone else has a partner already, so it’s just us left,” you explained. Jungsu found it hard to believe that no one would want to be partners with you. You were so sweet and kind. You were always there for everyone. You truly were the epitome of goodness.

“I’ll see you in class then. Don’t expect me to go easy on you though,” he told you. 

“Why would I want that?” you say. Jungsu can’t fight off his smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oww I know you said you wouldn’t go easy on me, but did you have to flip me that hard?” you groaned from where you lay on the ground. Something stirs in Jungsu’s heart as he sees you lying on the ground in pain.

“Sorry. Are you hurt?” Jungsu helped you up from the ground. 

“I’m fine. Let’s go again,” you say. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What if someone was born with a gray pearl?” Jungsu asked you one night. The two of you were out at the spring. Watching how the moon reflected against the gently flowing water.

“Gray? Like both good and evil?” you checked. Jungsu nodded his head in confirmation. 

“I guess it depends if they leaned into the light or darkness,” you say. 

“If they chose light?” Jungsu prompted. 

“Then they’re good,” you state. 

“That simple? You wouldn’t think they’re some type of abomination or impure?” he questioned. 

“No.” You shook your head. “If you’re good, you’re good. If you’re bad, you’re bad. That’s how our world is: Black and White,” you say. 

“You really are naive,” Jungsu chuckles. 

“Well I was kinda born that way.” You chuckle as well, looking down at your pearl pendant on your neck that emitted a subtle glow in the darkness of night.

“That’s right you have the purest heart of them all.” Jungsu leaned over to hold your pearl between his fingers for a moment before letting it go. 

“You know hearts can change?” you asked. 

“What are you talking about?” Jungsu followed. 

“I don’t know why they don’t teach about it anymore, but I found some old history books in the backroom of the library. There was once a war between White Clouds and Black Shadows. I don’t know all of the details because some pages were missing, but it talked about people's hearts changing. Some went from light to dark and others went from dark to light,” you explained. “So if someone’s dark heart can transform into light and someone’s light heart can be consumed by darkness there’s no reason why someone with a gray heart can’t be light too,” you say.

For the first time Jungsu could say that he felt something that felt like hope. Later when he pulled out his gray pearl he found that it was a few shades lighter. 

It wouldn’t remain lighter for long though. Your talk about people’s hearts changing got Jungsu curious,so one night he crept inside the backroom of the library to find the history books you were talking about, but while he was in the backroom somebody else came in. Jungsu quickly hid behind some old dust covered shelves. 

“Are you sure they’re the one?” Jungsu hears a voice say. 

“I’m positive sir. They’re pearl glows like the moon and everyone here knows they’re the one with the purest heart. The officials say it’s the purest heart since the Discord War.” 

“How soon can you bring them to me for sacrifice?” That feeling shows up in Jungsu’s heart again. The same one he felt when he saw you laying on the ground during your combat training.

“They’re scheduled for isolation training in two weeks. It’ll be all too easy to take them then.”

“Ok, don’t mess this up.” 

“I won’t sir.” Jungsu hears the person who entered the room leave. He comes out from where he was hiding behind the shelf. Now he knows what the feeling in his heart is. He wants to protect you.

Discord War? That had to be the war you were telling him about. Jungsu made quick work of finding the books. The cause of the war is conveniently the pages that are missing. Jungsu gets a bad feeling about it. He has to find those pages. He had to know what he was dealing with so that he could stop you from being sacrificed. He was ready to save you at all costs.

He scoured the entire backroom, practically flipping it upside down. That’s when he came across a box with a lock on it. He doesn’t even bother looking for the key; he simply breaks the lock. Low and behold inside are the missing pages. 

Jungsu knows what he has to do after reading them. His pearl that was once a light gray now darkens to a black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jungsu! Jungsu!” You frantically called after him, fighting away from the officials trying to hold you back. You had just gotten out of isolation when you heard the news.

“You didn’t really do it right? I’ll believe you if you say you didn’t do it. You didn’t kill Master Jason right?” Jungsu turns to look at you from over his shoulder. 

“I did.” He looked at you with dark eyes. 

“No, no you wouldn’t.” Tears pricked your eyes.

“Actions don’t always speak the truth, maybe you should understand that if you don’t want to get hurt next time.” he tells you, turning back around. 

“Jungsu!” you called out again. He didn’t look back at you. He just let himself get dragged away. “Jungsu,” you say his name again, collapsing onto the ground. 

“I’m sorry y/n,” your master comes over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“He wouldn’t do this,” you say. A sigh escapes from your master. 

“Y/n you heard him. He did. He wasn’t who we thought he was. His pearl turned black,” he tells you. 

“What? No, that can’t be,” you refused. 

“It is. Let me tell you something. Jungsu’s pearl turned gray when he was born. We thought that if he was surrounded by goodness that his pearl would become white, but it looks like the opposite happened. We don’t know how long it’s been black, but it seems like he had been plotting this a while,” your master informs. 

“A -a gray pearl?” you asked, recalling the night Jungsu asked you about what if someone was born with a gray pearl. “You really are naive,” you recalled his words. No, he didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it in a bad way. He wanted to be good. You know he did. You could feel it. 

“Mhm, don’t tell the others about it. It’s causing enough trouble amongst the officials.” 

“They’re taking him to Black Shadows aren’t they?” you asked. 

“Y/n no. You have to stay away from him. He just killed someone.” But you had to know why Jungsu would do this. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You arrived at Gray Bridge, the spot where White Clouds crosses over to Black Shadows. You took a deep breath before stepping onto the bridge. You had to find Jungsu. 

“You’re really stupid aren’t you? How could you come here?” It was Jungsu's voice. You turned towards his voice and there he was. His once white cloak is now black. 

“You didn’t do it right?” you say. Jungsu scoffs. 

“I did it y/n. What will it take to get that through your skull?” He’s never spoken to you with such a cold tone before.

“You were born with a gray pearl. That’s why you asked me about it that night. You wanted to turn your gray pearl white didnt you? I know you did,” you state. 

“No, I didn’t. I was just fooling you. You were just entertainment to me,” he tells you. His words yank harshly on your heartstrings. 

“No.” You shake your head. “That’s not true, I know it’s not. I trust you Jungsu, so please tell me what this is all about,” you pleaded. 

“You shouldn’t have put your trust in me so much.” His cold words stab your heart. “But trust me when I say this, there are more important things in my life to worry about. You’re definitely not one of them.” Jungsu disappeared right after saying that. 

With that your heart broke. Your sparkling tears cascaded down your face as you clutched your aching heart. You still didn’t want to believe that Jungsu could do this.

part 1 part 3 epilogue!

taglist: @purplelady85 @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143

comment or message me to be added!

[loopy777]

In the empire strikes back, do you also feel like there is some line missing between "if only you knew the power of the dark side" but before "Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father"?

It feels to me like there needed to be some retort from Luke about his father's defiance and awesomeness to make it sound natural.

As it is, it kinda just coasts on the follow up reveal to make up for a weak set up, where he just jumps to tell the big twist withouth some way to make the transition from the fight into the big reveal seem natural.

Maybe it's because the actors didnt really get to give their imput on the dialogue due to how Lucas wanted it to be 100% secret and not spoiled. And so we see the classic wooden lucas dialogue on full display.

Honestly, ESB is the least likely of all the movies to have any Lucas dialogue left. The classic trilogy all had actual scriptwriters work on them to make them sound vaguely human, but ESB was the only movie filmed without Lucas on the set all the time, so the crew was free to do as much rewriting as they could without getting caught.

I've read accounts from Harrison Ford that he rewrote all his ANH dialogue simply by asking the night before for script changes from the typist distributing the daily shooting scripts. And he claims Lucas never noticed the changes, so if that's true, I doubt he would have noticed the changes in the ESB script if Kershner, the actors, and anyone else hanging around (I don't recall if Kasdan was on set) didn't make a big deal out of it. And we know for a fact that they did make changes, because I've see actual photos of Carrie Fisher's rewrites for her own scenes, and it's rather famous how the scripted line for Han's reply to Leia's "I love you" in the carbon-freezing chamber was originally supposed to be either "I love you, too" or "Just remember that, ‘cause I’ll be back" rather than the semi-improvised "I know."

Granted, Lucas would be more likely to remember the most important dialogue in the movie, so I'm sure there's a limit to what could be rewritten. And we all know how dichotomous he can be about Star Wars history, claiming he figured out a 6-movie saga entirely beforehand while also publishing "Making Of" books that show pretty clearly he was improvising heavily as he went and had no idea how many movies he was making or what they would be about.

Anyway, no, it never struck me as particularly awkward, but I first saw ESB back when I seven or eight, so my first impression wasn't exactly sophisticated. Looking at it now, it seems to flow well enough. Luke is defiantly saying that he'll never join Vader, obviously seeing life in terms of black & white and good & evil. Vader's "If only you knew the power of the dark side," strikes me less of a temptation and more of a musing- if only Luke knew what was really going on here, what life was really like, and the true nature of the forces they're playing with, then he might not be so defiant and sure of himself. He then goes on to start the reveal of his true identity, thinking that Luke needs to understand that Vader is a real person who was once just like him and eventually chose what Luke himself is thinking to be an unconscionable choice.

Sure, there could be another line in there to make it explicit and connect the dots, and perhaps the original script had one. The only version of the ESB script I've seen has "Insert Dialog B" over the entire reveal scene. It might have even been recorded. (I hesitate to say 'shot and recorded' since the scene as shot had completely different dialogue about Obi-Wan murdering Luke's father that was over-dubbed later in order to avoid leaks, and I think even some of Mark Hamill's reaction shots were assembled later and perhaps re-dubbed.) And perhaps that extra line or two was removed later to pick up the pacing of the scene. If so, I think that was a good choice, as the pacing of a scene like that in a movie is really more important than the nuances of the dialogue, and the idea mostly carries through anyway.

If I had to blame anything for any awkwardness, I would probably credit the weirdness of how the scene was shot. Mark Hamill was only told what he was really reacting to just before filming, and he's said that he would have done it differently if he'd had time to process it. And David Prowse in the Vader suit wasn't told at all, although he later found out and spoiled it anyway at some public appearances. If everyone had been given the time to figure out the scene as it was supposed to be, perhaps we'd have something a bit smoother.

Good thing they had John Williams doing the music. That guy can make anything go down smooth.

[fleet-of-fiction]

Jake Kiszka // Female Narrator

Part Five

After a blinding light eradicates mankind, you're left in a desolate and empty world. A year of solitude eliminates all belief that anyone else was left behind. Until a chance encounter on the side of the road. Jake is injured and fighting for his life, but his presence brings a renewed sense of hope. Touch starved and lonely, you need him. And undoubtedly, he needs you too.

"It would be the last man on earth that would end up being mine..."

Explicit sexual content Sex (penetrative & oral) /Foreplay /Blood / Injury / Hunting. / Intense emotions / Death.

Day 469 ~ Jake

The house sat at the top of a steep incline, up a winding driveway that had begun to be reclaimed by nature. Cracks in the cement where little shrubs had started to grow and leaves that were never blown away. Neglected and abandoned.

It reminded me a little of Josh's house. With pristine edges and white walls, coveted by obscure works of art. Book shelves that were gathering dust and kitchen utensils left out on the surfaces as if the owners had just stepped out of the room.

Amelia seemed to know where she was going. "I found this place a couple of months after I moved into Grandma's cabin."

She led me down a narrow corridor, flanked by a bank of full length windows overlooking a sweeping back yard that was shrouded by trees. Photo's of the family who once lived there sitting on the wall opposite, happy faces forever immortalised for no one else to ever see.

"I hit every house within a 10 mile radius. Looking for supplies, anything that I could use. Food, toiletries. And I was about to leave when I noticed this..."

She stopped at the end of the corridor, leaning against a nondescript door. Her face sincere as she ran hands up my arms, coming to rest around my shoulders.

"We have to take whatever joy we can find in this world." She said, "And if we're lucky, we'll take back some of the joys we had before."

I'd known nothing but joy since I'd almost died. There wasn't a single moment I'd had with her that hadn't made me question whether I would take any of it back to have the world filled with every other person I'd ever loved again.

It was something I'd wrestled with. The notion that I could happily exist in a world I'd come to hate simply because she was in it with me. I was thinking about Josh again when she opened the door, simply because I'd been reminded of him. And the certainty within which I knew I wouldn't take any of it back, even if it meant having him back, drew a conflict within the likes of which I'd never known before.

But it was all for nothing. As I stepped into the room she'd been eager to show me, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I loved her enough to never want the old world back.

"Amelia..." I gasped. "What in the...fuck."

Mounted on an oak panelled wall were an array of vintage guitars. A brazilian board 1959 Gibson Les Paul. Shining in the last rays of the afternoon sun. I reached out and touched it, trembling as my fingers remembered what it felt like to know strings. A custom Fender strat in dark red with a black mottled pattern that looked like spilled paint if you looked too closely. A plain red stratocaster and an acoustic Martin dreadnought with a mahogany neck.

"I know that you said you didn't play anymore. Not without your brothers. But I think you should play again. For them. To them. And maybe somehow, I don't know how insane it might be, but maybe they'll hear you. Wherever they are..."

She was nervous. Biting her lip and wringing her hands in the sleeves of her sweater. Anticipating that I'd reject the sweetness of her idea, of this perfect gift.

"You brought me here because you knew that I would love it, didn't you?" I asked, although it wasn't really a question.

"Is that so bad?" She replied, opening her arms as if I would somehow be mad at her.

The room was decked out with framed vinyls. Some were so old I'd never seen them before. There were a few more guitars leaned up against the opposite wall and a beaten up drum kit in the window. It looked as if it had been played to death, with the cymbals hanging off and the kick drum looked as if one more pound on it would tear it right in half.

"It's not bad at all, why would you think that?" I pulled her into me, her little body slotting into my embrace like it had always meant to be there. "Just because I said I didn't play anymore doesn't mean I wouldn't love this."

She rested her head against my shoulder. Let me sway her back and forth a little. Everything was so eerily quiet. Up here the wind howled a little more than it did around the cabin. It sounded like ghosts were singing to us, begging me to pick up one of those fine old ladies.

"Maybe I'm selfish. Maybe I just wanted to hear you for myself." She looked up at me, resting her lips on my jawline.

"Plenty have paid for the privilege." I replied, "What will you pay me for a private show?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I saved your life. This is you paying me, sweet thing."

She laughed and buried her face into my neck, kissing me there and holding me tight around my waist. Familiar and wholesome. Like she hadn't tried to push me away at all in the beginning.

She was the most incredible woman I had ever known. Her fears were like shadows now, she had this uncanny ability to turn them into her most beloved passions. Once she had been afraid to love me. And now, the ways in which she loved me were making me feel unworthy of it.

"Sometimes I don't think you realise how much you saved me." I told her, casting my eye on the acoustic. "Not just from that car wreck. But from a life of misery."

Of course I would play for her. If not her, then nobody. She made herself comfortable on a shaggy looking bean bag, folding herself into it and resting her head against her curled fist as she regarded me. I pulled the mahogany acoustic down from the wall, not wanting to tend to wires and amps just yet.

I considered coming up with something on the fly, but it had been so long since I had tinkered with strings that my mind began to wander so far away I couldn't make them work. I strummed a little, hearing the notes play out and something weird happened. I thought I'd never feel this ever again, this visceral wave that washed over me to the point of almost growing hard as I felt the back of the guitar against my groin.

Her eyes widened. She wasn't prepared.

"How does it make you feel, to have an audience again?" She asked softly, seductively.

The strings needed tuning a little. I turned the keys at the top of the neck, plucking out chords until they sounded pitch perfect.

"Sexy." I replied, "I always felt sexy whenever I went out on stage. They made me feel sexy. Kinda the same way you are now. Knowing they want to fuck you every time you play for them."

I didn't realise how much I missed the adrenaline. The feral cries of a crowd. Their voices rising in unison. Lights and screaming and the feeling that I might ascend with their love. I'd been someone in my life before. I'd known what it felt like to open my eyes and know I was doing something I loved completely. I hadn't felt like this in what felt like a life time.

"This is who you are, Jake." She uttered, sliding her hand down the curve of her hips. "You can't run from who you are forever."

I felt as if I didn't deserve her. For all she had done for me, for how incredible she was. There was no crowd that could ever compare to the way I felt in that moment playing for her.

"I can't sing our songs like Josh could." I confessed, "I'd be a poor imitation. But I'll try."

I couldn't hold the same power with my voice that my brother could. The part of me that had promised never to play again still sat in the shadows whispering to me that it would never be the same. But louder than that was Amelia's face watching me strum out the first chords of a song that meant everything to me.

"What's it called?" She asked.

Day 469 ~ Amelia

I knew he would love it. I'd all but forgotten about the little music room at the back of the big house on the corner of the road that led into Lafayette. It had meant nothing to me the first time I'd ventured in there. There was nothing in there that was of any use to me.

But today, it was like seeing the sun peek out from a grey cloud. I'd gone from doing everything in my power to ensure that he was never necessary to me, to doing everything in my power just to see him smile.

"It's called Broken Bells." He replied, "Josh used to say that it was about seeing that when things sometimes feel broken most of the time they're just lessons sent to help us see that everything will be alright in the end. I really wish he could be here to see that he was so fucking right."

What would I have done if he hadn't felt the same? I could feel myself dying a little inside at the melancholy way he played. His face expressing his grief. He played so hauntingly beautifully, in a way I hadn't really been prepared for. He closed his eyes and didn't even need to look at the way his fingers moved across the strings. He knew them, and they responded to him so lovingly. Almost as if they were an entity all of their own, able to come when he called.

If he hadn't have loved me in return I'd have been driven mad by it. Every rational bone in my body broken if I'd been forced to live beside him unrequited. I began to understand how lucky and fortunate I was as he began to sing. That he and I were somehow fated. And it wasn't just a coincidence that he was driving past me that day. He was creation and I was necessity. He'd made music for a world that needed to hear it and I'd treated them when they were sick. And for some unfathomable reason, we'd been left behind to exist together in this empty world.

But empty didn't have to mean broken. There was nothing but love in the world again. Nothing but this painful song that made tears spill from my eyes as I watched him and listened. What if this song was the only one being played? And the only one being listened to? I had hope that if anyone else had been left behind that they had somehow managed to find each other and find love within it.

"That was...beautiful." I sobbed, laughing at myself for crying at it.

He put down the guitar and came to me. Launching himself into the bean bag, the scrunchy sound of tiny styrofoam balls moving around as he wiggled into the space beside me.

"It always got an emotional reaction whenever we played it." He sighed, trailing soft palms down the side of my face. "It felt like people resonated with our songs for all different kinds of reasons. But with Broken Bells it always felt we were all on the same page. All of us feeling the same thing at the same time."

How could I have ever doubted him? This beautiful man with his beautiful music?

"I was just thinking, while you were playing it, that I hoped that somewhere out there that other people were listening to songs for the first time. That they'd found each other and found love, even in a world seemingly broken." I countered, feeling the heat of that familiar rush when I knew he was about to make love to me.

"If they aren't, then we have to love for all of those who can't." He said, trailing kisses down my jaw line.

Sometimes it felt silly. The things we said to each other. Things in the dead of night. In the cold light of day. In the middle of the afternoon when he was at his most sleepy, when he would linger in the kitchen looking to score a bowl of stew or soup before curling up on the couch with a book before he would fall asleep.

Even now, I could feel him nuzzle in. Our bodies entwined on the bean bag lazily tracing his thumb over my nipple as he sucked the flesh on my neck into perfect little shapes of his mouth.

"So, you really do like it?" I checked, just wanting to hear him say it one more time.

"Oh, yeah." He yawned, "That Les Paul is coming home with us for sure. And maybe I'll come back for the Strat, too."

I was wearing the black yoga pants I saved for hiking. The ones that I wore to collect fire wood. To muck out the horses and clear out the chicken coop. I never felt particularly sexy in them, or desirable. It felt almost like we'd become accustomed to seeing each other in our most desolate states.

But when he slipped them down around the curve of my ass and hitched me around so I was facing away from him, I was glad that I'd worn them. The way he pressed his hard on into my back and continued to roll my nipple around between his fingers as he breathed harder into my ear was the blessing I'd needed to know that I'd done the right thing.

We were both tired from the hike. Our bodies crying out for rest. The afternoon sun began to slip away, making room for cloud and darkness. I was acutely aware that there was no power in this house. No electricity. No running water. No heat. It was in my mind to interrupt his ministrations with these facts, but as his hand slipped below, coming up into my entrance from behind, I lost all manner of speech.

"You gonna let me thank you properly?" He asked, slaking two fingers inside me slowly. "Be my good girl and let me show you how much I love you?"

I was in no mood to protest. I watched the light outside fade as he ran stripes up my slit and into my clit. Whispering obscenities and freeing himself one handedly as he played with me. Letting his cock rest between his stomach and the curve of my ass, leaking a little against our flesh.

"Can you feel it?" He breathed, "How much I love you?"

It was all I could feel. There was no house. No darkness. No eerie silence as the wind rushed through the trees. Howling like there was someone out there to hear it. Only Jakes breath, the bean bag as it shuffled beneath us, and the sound of my untamed scream as he penetrated me.

He didn't try to quieten me. Buffeting my wild moans with deep thrusts that came like chasms to break me in half. Each time he bottomed out, he savoured it. Taking the briefest of moments to feel me clenched around him before pulling back slowly. The need to fuck and the need to sleep battling it out for supremacy.

"Pretty fucking grateful, aren't you?" I replied, leaning my head back into his waiting mouth.

When he was like this, all in need and eager to satisfy any way that he could, I often thought back to how it had been that first time. On the ground in the mud, knees caked in it and the earth beating in time with us. And how in the time since, we'd leisurely made love on the kitchen floor some mornings. In the shower, just stroking each other to pass the time. Him, on top of me, in the bed we now shared. And me, arms around the trunk of a tree whilst he fucked me from behind out in the woods even though it was still a little cold out there.

"For this pussy? Always." He purred into my ear, like he was serenading me.

I knew that I'd never tire of it. The way he felt inside me. The way he fit so perfectly. I never felt so full, like something had been made just for me. He wasn't just rhythm and blues, he was equipped to make me quiver with the mere mention that he might take me right there and then.

I'd lament it later on. How all my lovers before him had been lacking. How I'd swiped left and right, attended blind dates and settled when I shouldn't have. For men that couldn't make me cum or men who couldn't text me back.

"Mmmmm..." I murmured softly, arching against his quickening pace. "It would be the last man on earth that would end up being mine..."

The gentle laughter that expelled from his mouth against the shell of my ear was like summer rain. Teasing my senses, touch taste and scent. His hair was sweat drenched at his temples, as it often was when he fucked me, and I could taste the salt of it in his kiss.

"She speaks so highly of me." He breathed, "Now let her know no other man will ever have her..."

He would claim me. Over and over again. Even when there was no other to counter his claim. I let his hand wrap around my throat, edging me to the distance it would take to push me over the edge of the world. Thrusting into me so hard my entire body shook. I knew the bean bag had ripped at some point, sending the tiny little white foam balls scattered across the room. But I didn't care.

I'd keep finding them in strange places for weeks afterwards. As he rolled me onto the floor and continued to pound me, vicious and unrelenting. He'd never silenced my mewling cries before, content to let them ring out into the ether.

But not this time. It was like his gratitude couldn't be satisfied until he could hear the one sound he desired. His body raged on top of mine, our clothes half on and half off. His sweaty palm came to rest over my open mouth. Muffling my cries to a dull humm. His eyes silently pleading with me to let them die. And to just listen...

"Hush." He encouraged, resting his mouth against the back of his hand as he continued.

There it was. Against the backdrop of the breeze outside. The sound of how wet I was. His cock hitting my satiated pussy. Moist flesh against moist flesh. The most inconceivable feeling washed over me. This man, the only man that ever was, wanted to silence my mouth only to better hear the sound of my pussy being fucked.

And the drop of his eyelids as he listened had me in another state of being. Half closed and fucked with desire for the way it slipped in and out, wet and completely his.

"Thankyou, my love." He whispered, before he allowed himself to cum.

I was never certain if it was for the music, or the way I let him fuck me. I didn't really care. I let my own orgasm rise moments later, the two of us breathless and spent on the gutted belly of that old bean bag.

Day 470 ~ Amelia

We hunkered down for the night. Choosing to make our way back at first light, gathering all the blankets we could find and sleeping on the couches that were, quite simply, more luxurious than any couch we could have gotten in the cabin.

Jake took the one opposite me, falling asleep first. His gentle snores lulling me into my own dreams. It felt like no time had passed at all before my eyes sprang open, the red of morning creeping in.

I rubbed my eyes and stretched. Taking a moment to recall where I was. This place was eerie, even in daylight. And I wished that there were something, anything...that would remind me that people had once lived here. The ticking of a clock, perhaps. Or the grass being cut outside. I could have laid there a little longer, still tired and drowsy, but I was eager to be gone.

I kicked off the blankets and expected Jake to be laying there, ever the one to wake up last, but my heart fell into my stomach at the sight of the empty couch. Blankets still left precisely where he had kicked them off.

"Jake?!" I called, expecting his voice to filter down the hall from the music room.

Silence.

"Jake?!" I called again, pulling on my pants and shoes as I made my way through the house.

I expected to find him gathering up all the instruments he wanted to take. Agonising over which ones to take now and which ones to come back for. But there was nothing but the aftermath of what we'd done. And all the guitars were accounted for.

"Jake, this isn't funny." I cried, checking behind the curtains like a child playing hide and seek. "Jake, I'm being serious now!!!"

Panic began to rise in my chest. My heart soaring, making me dizzy as I flew through the house. Room after room coming up empty.

"Jake!!!" I screamed, running now. "Jake please!!!"

Had I ever given myself permission to imagine this, I would have driven myself mad. That one day he would simply vanish, like everyone else had, and truly I would have walked to my death in that moment. I had no desire to live in a world void of the man I loved.

"JACOB!!!" My voice broke on his name as I fell out of the door and into the back yard. "PLEASE!!!!"

I fell to my knees on gravel. Crying. Racking sobs expelled from me as I took fists full of tiny pebbles that cut into my flesh as I squeezed. I felt as if I couldn't breathe. My chest was tight, all the horror of him disappearing coursing through my veins as tears spilled down my flushed cheeks.

"Jake, I can't do this...you have to come back..." I begged, broken and beyond redemption.

In a matter of moments I'd gone from waking up, to screaming on my knees. I'd have thought it a nightmare had I not already endured one. The reality of this feeling was one I knew. Only this time, intensified by a love that had known no bounds. I could live in an empty world before I'd ever known him.

Not anymore.

To be Continued...

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.

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@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon @vikingisthenewsexy @char289

[mjonthetrack]

Chapter Twenty-One – “The Quiet Type”

The jet was quieter than usual.

Selah sat by the window, chin tucked into her palm, her curls falling like curtains around her face. No comic book doodles in her lap, no soft hums of music from her headphones, no vinyl-inspired facts or sarcastic commentary. Her earbuds were in—but the telltale bass or tinny treble never came.

Reid noticed first. His brow furrowed, but he said nothing.

Morgan caught it next. He glanced at her from across the aisle, her usually open posture replaced with a tightly drawn stillness. No cracking jokes. No teasing. No brightness. Just… silence.

“You alright?” he finally asked low.

She didn’t look at him. Just nodded once. Barely.

It wasn’t until they landed that it deepened.

On-site, Selah moved like a ghost. Efficient, yes. Professional, always. But the sparkle wasn’t there. She isolated herself near the evidence van, eyes locked on samples, ignoring even Rossi’s offer for coffee. The others exchanged subtle glances—no one said it aloud, but they all felt the shift. It wasn’t about the case.

Something personal.

She finished her analysis early and left without a word, sliding into the temp base van with only a short radio message confirming she was going back to prep the lab.

By the time the others were wrapping the last sweep of the scene, the questions started bubbling.

“I’ve never seen her like that,” JJ said quietly. “She barely looked at any of us.”

Morgan’s jaw flexed. “It’s not like her.”

Hotch looked thoughtful, but didn’t comment.

Then Garcia’s voice filtered into their earpieces, warm and heavy with hesitation.

“Guys,” she said, “I know we don’t dig into each other’s private lives without cause, but I was… worried. So I checked Selah’s public socials.”

They all stopped what they were doing.

“It’s her brother’s death anniversary today,” Garcia continued, gently. “Twelve years ago. He was thirteen. She was only a kid.”

Silence.

Garcia exhaled shakily. “She posted a single photo this morning. A black-and-white Polaroid. Him holding a comic book. No caption. Just a heart and the date.”

Morgan blinked, throat thickening. “That’s why…”

“She’s carrying it alone,” Reid added quietly. “Like she always has.”

Hotch’s voice was low. “She doesn’t talk about it because it still defines everything.”

Rossi sighed, eyes soft. “People don’t get into this line of work without ghosts. She’s just been hiding hers better than most.”

JJ whispered, “She shouldn’t have had to.”

They stood together, momentarily bonded not by the case, but by the ache of understanding something deeper.

Morgan ran a hand down his face. “I should’ve known.”

Reid looked toward the direction of the base, his voice barely a breath. “We all should’ve.”

The light desert wind tugged gently at their jackets as they stood still for a beat longer, the silence heavier than anything they'd felt from her.

But it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

———-

Chapter Twenty-Two – “The Song Beneath”

Selah barely made it into the lab before her fingers started to shake.

She’d meant to bury herself in work, drown the memories in evidence and data and maybe—just maybe—forget for a few hours. But the minute the door clicked shut behind her, and the low hum of silence pressed in…

It was too much.

She moved like muscle memory, flipping on the record player on the corner table without thinking. The vinyl she’d left queued up the day before started spinning—a slow, mournful soul track. The kind her brother used to sneak into her Walkman before school.

Her knees gave before her mind caught up. She sank to the floor beside her workbench, one hand pressed to her chest, the other trembling in her lap.

She didn’t sob. Not right away.

But the tears came silently, steady and unapologetic, as her back pressed to the cold metal cabinet and the room filled with her music, her grief, her truth.

When the knock came, she didn’t respond.

“Selah?” It was JJ.

Then Emily’s softer voice: “We’re coming in, okay?”

The door eased open. Selah didn’t move.

The team stood just inside the threshold, frozen by the sight of her—knees drawn in, lips trembling, tears streaking down cheeks that normally held laughter and sass and sun.

No jokes. No snark. Just grief.

JJ knelt first. Then Emily beside her. Rossi moved to the corner and quietly turned the music down but not off.

Reid and Morgan stayed back, both stunned into a heavy silence. Reid’s hands fidgeted, aching to do something—say something��but it was Morgan who stepped forward.

He knelt slowly, his usual swagger muted into something protective. His voice was low, a rough whisper like he was afraid to break her more.

“We should’ve remembered. We should’ve been here.”

Her eyes didn’t meet his right away. But when they did, Morgan felt that ache hit hard and deep.

“It’s okay,” Selah croaked, trying to smile and failing. “I didn’t want anyone to—”

“But we do want to,” JJ cut in, gently. “You don’t have to carry this alone, Selah.”

Reid’s voice cracked softly from where he stood. “He was thirteen, wasn’t he? I—I read about the case once. Mistaken identity. Wrong place, wrong time.”

Selah’s lip trembled harder, and her face crumpled.

“I should’ve walked with him that day,” she whispered. “He was just going to the corner store for gum.”

Morgan didn’t think—he reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her gently in as she sobbed into his shoulder. No words, no bravado. Just arms strong enough to hold all the weight she’d refused to share.

JJ’s hand rubbed her back. Emily rested her head briefly on Selah’s shoulder. Even Hotch—who’d arrived quietly—stood near the doorway, his expression unreadable but his presence grounding.

The team stayed like that for a while. Not as agents. Not even as colleagues.

As family.

——-

Chapter 23

Derek Morgan couldn’t sleep.

Not because of the case. Not because of some nagging lead or Garcia’s late-night pings.

It was her.

Selah.

He kept hearing the sound of her crying—the way it cracked through the silence of the temp lab, how it silenced the usual sparkle in her voice. The echo of it still rang in his head. Grief wasn’t new to him, but grief on her? It wrecked him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

She was usually so full of light, so quick to snap back with a joke, a lyric, a smirk that made him shake his head. But that night? All of that had slipped away and something deep inside him twisted watching it.

He’d seen her strength. In the field, in her lab, in how she carried herself with quiet confidence. But now... he couldn’t stop picturing her curled in on herself, trying to be small, hiding behind that brave face.

By 1:17 a.m., Morgan gave up on pretending he’d get any sleep. He threw on a hoodie, grabbed his keys, and let instinct do the rest.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to say. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if showing up unannounced was the right call. But the longer he sat in silence, the worse it felt not to do anything.

When he pulled up to the safe house the Bureau arranged for her during their time in Georgia, the lights inside were still on. Music faintly filtered through the glass—soft, bluesy, unmistakably vinyl. Probably Etta James or maybe something deeper, sadder. Something that understood heartbreak.

He knocked.

Quiet at first. Then again, firmer.

The door opened slowly, and there she was—wrapped in one of her oversized NASA tees, curls loose and wild, barefaced. Beautiful.

She blinked like she hadn’t expected anyone. “Morgan?”

He offered a lopsided smile, hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “Hey. You got a minute?”

Selah studied him for a beat, the kind of long pause that wasn’t for suspicion—but protection. For her own heart. For whatever piece of her still felt raw.

Then, quietly, she stepped aside. “Yeah… come in.”

————

The vinyl hummed from a corner of the living room, spinning something raw and smoky, a woman’s voice wrapped in pain and promise.

Selah didn’t say much at first. She padded barefoot to the kitchen, grabbed two glasses, and poured water without asking. When she handed one to him, their fingers brushed. Her skin was warm—softer than he expected.

They sat on the couch. No lights. Just the glow from the record player and the moon pouring in through the blinds.

“You good?” Morgan finally asked, voice low, cutting through the hum.

She shrugged, pulling her knees up under her. “I will be.”

He watched her. Really watched her.

There was something different about Selah when she wasn’t “on.” She wasn’t the bright spark in the lab, the fast-talking firecracker with her goggles and comic book posters. She was... quieter. Grounded. She looked like the kind of woman who held galaxies behind her eyes.

“I’ve been around loss,” he said after a pause. “But I’ve never seen it take the shine out of someone like it did you.”

She offered a tired smile. “It comes back. Just takes a little time.”

“Still,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “It hit me harder than I thought. Seeing you like that.”

That got her attention. Selah’s eyes lifted, meeting his. There was a quiet curiosity in them, but she didn’t push. Not yet.

Morgan’s gaze dropped before it betrayed too much, and that’s when he saw it. Her thigh, exposed as she shifted under the hem of her oversized NASA shirt, inked with a floral design and sharp script—beautiful, unexpected. His breath caught for a second.

And just like that, it all clicked.

It wasn’t just that she was gorgeous. It wasn’t just the brains, the wit, the voice that stayed in his head even after the music stopped. It was everything. The strength behind her softness. The fire that flared even in her grief. The way she didn’t try to impress anyone, but left an impression anyway.

Damn.

He liked her.

He really liked her.

Morgan stood up abruptly, setting the glass down a little too hard.

Selah blinked, startled. “Wait—what’s wrong?”

He shook his head, trying to rein in everything unraveling in him. “Nothing. I just— I gotta get outta here.”

“Morgan?” Her voice was small, uncertain. That wasn’t like her.

He stopped at the door, back turned, hands on his hips.

She deserved an answer. But not one he could give without messing everything up.

“You ever feel something creeping up on you so fast it scares the hell outta you?”

“…Yeah.”

He turned just enough to glance at her over his shoulder, her knees still hugged to her chest, curls falling in her face, and that damn shirt barely covering her thighs.

“That’s what this feels like,” he muttered. “Goodnight, Selah.”

And then he was gone—leaving her confused, concerned, and just a little breathless in the quiet warmth of her vinyl-spun haven.

——-

Chapter 24

The sun broke through the blinds too easily for someone who hadn’t slept. Selah blinked at the sliver of golden light painting her floor, the record long since stopped spinning.

She’d replayed the night over and over in her head—Derek Morgan standing in her living room, heart on the edge of his sleeve, then vanishing into the dark like he hadn’t just shaken something loose in both of them.

She ran a hand down her face, groaning.

“What was that?”

Still barefoot, she shuffled to the bathroom, brushing her teeth with one hand while scrolling her phone with the other. Group text from the team. Garcia was demanding a breakfast meet-up. Mandatory, no excuses, bring your appetites and your emotional baggage, muffins will be provided.

She chuckled a little. Of course.

By the time she rolled into the small café, she looked a little more put together—fitted joggers, her Howard hoodie, curls in a loose puff. She spotted the team right away: Rossi with his paper, Hotch with his coffee already half gone, JJ and Prentiss sharing looks over something Garcia was dramatically retelling.

And Derek.

He was already there. Black hoodie, baseball cap low. Coffee untouched.

Their eyes met the second she walked in.

And everything paused.

Morgan’s mouth opened slightly, as if to say something, but it took him a second too long.

Selah offered a slow nod and slid into the empty seat next to Garcia. The woman lit up.

“There she is! The sunbeam I was worried had been swallowed by crime scene hell.”

Selah gave a tired smile. “Still here. Just...slow morning.”

Garcia tilted her head. “You good, sunshine?”

“I’m okay.”

Across the table, Morgan hadn’t said a word.

Hotch glanced at him. “Morgan, you good?”

He blinked, snapping out of his haze. “Yeah. Just—thinking.”

JJ leaned forward. “You didn’t sleep, did you?”

Selah sipped her tea and avoided looking at him directly. “He never does.”

Morgan’s head turned sharply at that. A subtle acknowledgment. A shared secret.

And the rest of the team noticed.

Rossi raised a brow. “Something we should know?”

Prentiss narrowed her eyes between them. “You two look like you saw a ghost.”

Morgan finally spoke, clearing his throat. “Just a long night. Thinking about the last case.”

Selah nodded once, adding smoothly, “Yeah. Sometimes the aftermath’s harder than the scene.”

No one said anything for a beat, but Garcia’s eyes narrowed, curious and so tempted to stir the pot.

Hotch looked between them, then—classic—chose to pretend nothing was out of place. “Let’s focus up. We’re due for a brief back at Quantico after this.”

Selah busied herself unwrapping her muffin.

Morgan finally picked up his coffee.

But even with the food, the chatter, and Garcia’s usual sunshine energy, that current? It hummed underneath the surface between them.

Something had changed.

And neither of them could unfeel it.

————

Chapter 25

The jet home was unusually calm—exhaustion thick in the air after a hard-won case. Everyone was in their own world. Reid had knocked out cold with a book still on his lap, Garcia was softly humming while scrolling on her tablet, JJ and Prentiss sharing snacks, Hotch lost in the quiet, Rossi sipping his scotch like a man with peace in his pocket.

Selah stood quietly, stretching.

“I’ll be right back,” she murmured to no one in particular, heading toward the back of the jet where the bathroom was tucked.

Morgan’s gaze followed her.

He tried to keep still, tried to stay locked in the idle rhythm of the hum beneath his boots and the low buzz of post-case chatter. But that ache from the night before—the weight of her sleepy eyes and the curve of her thigh where her tattoo peeked out—it wouldn’t leave him.

And when she disappeared behind the slim door?

He moved like instinct took over.

Selah had just turned toward the mirror when the door clicked open behind her.

Before she could ask, his hand slid around her waist, spun her gently, and his mouth found hers like he’d been dying for it. She gasped into the kiss, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.

“Morgan—”

But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

The kiss turned fevered, hungry—his body moving like it had waited long enough. He hiked her onto the tiny sink, hand gripping her thigh, the other lost in the curls behind her ear. Her legs locked around his waist as she pulled him closer, kissed him deeper, like she needed him just as badly.

Breathless moans filled the tiny space, low grunts and bitten-back curses—heat, sweat, tension uncoiled in a rush.

And just as quick as it happened, it ended.

Morgan stepped back, chest heaving. He didn’t say a word.

Selah blinked, still catching her breath, the cool metal of the sink under her palms.

He opened the door, stepped out.

And was gone.

By the time they touched down at Quantico, Selah had tucked it away. Neatly. Emotionally. If he wanted it to be a one-off, she wouldn’t beg for meaning.

She adjusted her jacket, caught up to the team.

Morgan didn’t even look at her. Didn’t even try.

She smiled at JJ’s joke. Nodded along when Rossi mentioned a steak night. When Garcia looped her arm through hers and started chatting about a local record store, Selah leaned in, light and bright like nothing had happened.

But inside?

She felt the ice Morgan had left behind.

Before they could split, Hotch's phone buzzed. His eyes flicked across the screen, mouth tightening.

“We’ve got another one,” he said simply. “Local. Briefing room in ten.”

————

By the time they gathered, Selah was flipping through the file, tuning in and ready to go.

That’s when the door opened.

“Sorry I’m late,” came a familiar voice.

She looked up—and her heart caught in her throat.

Marcus Reed.

He looked the same, if not better—clean cut in a dark henley and jeans, shoulder holster slung under his jacket, smirk tugging at his lips.

“Marcus,” Selah breathed, trying to keep it cool. “Didn’t know you were in the mix.��

“Consulted last minute,” he said, stepping closer, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “Good to see you, Ellis.”

Morgan's entire posture shifted. Jaw clenched. Hands curled.

Selah smiled, a little surprised by the warmth in her own chest. “It’s been a while.”

The rest of the room murmured greetings, flipping through the files.

Garcia, eyes flitting between them, nudged JJ and whispered just loud enough for Morgan to catch: “Okay wait…they look good together. Like, annoyingly hot. Movie couple vibes.”

Morgan stood abruptly. Chair scraping. His fist clenched.

“I need air,” he muttered, storming out before anyone could stop him.

Selah watched him go, her chest tight.

Rossi raised an eyebrow. “Did we miss something?”

Reid blinked. “Was it something I said?”

But Selah didn’t answer. She looked back at Marcus, whose hand now rested easily on the table near hers, completely unaware of the emotional explosion he’d just walked into.

And she knew.

This game had just shifted.

[darkphoenix07]

Paper rings by Taylor Swift

<Song prompt au>

Masterlist

Mental Health Request

Paring : Jongho x Reader

Genre : Romance, Friends to lovers

Word count : 2.6k

Synopsis : You two are college mutual friends but you act like you can't recall his name intensionally everytime he comes to buy his pistachio latte ☕

Warning : Adorable, Soft Intimacy

9.32 p.m.

You keep staring at your phone as you have been for several hours by now for being bored. The song playing in the background is making your ears bleed but you are scared to go home alone at this hour because this city isn't safe for girls to be anywhere alone. Your friend has promised you that he will drop you home as soon as the party ends but now he is nowhere to be found.

"Hey, Y/n," finally you hear your friend, Yunho from the background and look behind. But instead of meeting his eyes, you meet a pair of dark brown eyes, chubby cheeks and dark black haired boy wearing a simple black t-shirt with no design but only black cargo pants. For some seconds you feel like his eyes sparkled and he looked like he smiled at you. But the next moment, it was all gone and he shoved one glass of whiskey in his mouth without sparing you a single look.

"I'm sorry for keeping you here. I was with my friends. You haven't meet Jongho, right? He is Choi Jongho, one of my friends and Jongho, this is y/n, my childhood friend," Yunho says and you stand up awkwardly.

You don't understand what to do but gladly the word, "Hi," comes out from your mouth easily enough for being social.

One the other hand, he doesn't even smile and you. He only blinks at you in a way of making you understand he heard you and starts talking to Yunho instead. They sit around you in the couch of the party house and keep talking all night. But Jongho doesn't even glance at you for once or talk to you or ask you something.

But unintentionally your eyes keep going back to the mole on his throat. A little far from his chin and from his collarbone. It is making him look a bit too much attractive than he already is. That is making you feel so hot though the air conditioners are on.

You have always felt unattractive throughout your whole school life and college was another run as your friends got boyfriends but you got none. Sadly, no one even approached for you which made it worse. Your insecurities about your features kept getting higher when you started having guy friends but they were only comfortable in keeping you friend.

Jongho was in another college which is why you've never seen him until now. Up until now, no one has ever caught your eyes like he did. Something about him, maybe his eyes or that mole on his neck makes you weak for him already when you don't even know him.

Finally the time comes when Yunho drops you home and the first time you do after reaching home is look for Jongho in the social media and damnit, he looks like someone's boyfriend in every picture without even trying. He has gummy smile which you notice in a photo Yunho tagged him on his birthday. Oh that smile, it looks like you are about to lose your mind.

After roaming a whole hour in his social media account you notice the books beside his bed. There is a white bookshelf covered with plant and various books. You take a screenshot of that and order every book online so you understand what type of person he is and what type of romance he likes.

It's hard to sleep when for the first time you are feeling the adrenal rush for someone who didn't even talk to you for one second and completely avoided you like you are invisible. You know this isn't right but you can't help it. After knowing it is going to be a long night, you kept tossing and turning until the sun comes up and it becomes the time for college.

In college, you try to ask your friends about him but it feels wrong. So you simply finish college and enter your cafe where you work as a barista. It's very weird but you've become barista because you love brown color and the smell of coffee. It always makes your day when you are in the cafe.

Days go by as you meet Jongho often but the routine is the same. You keep staring at him while he keeps giving you cold shoulder. Sometimes it feels like he avoids you on purpose and talks to every other person in the party.

After losing your mind and reading three of the books that you saw beside his bed, you've decided to give up. He's too good for you. His morals, his thoughts, the type of books he read. Everything is out of league.

One morning, you are working in the cafe when suddenly a order comes up like this, "One pistachio latte please."

You feel your head has started to burn hearing the soft voice. You know he can sing very well but hearing him order something like that starts making you feel weak on your knees. You want to jump or scream but you only smile looking at him, "Alright, it will be 5 dollar and 25 bucks," you tell him.

"Y/n, you are work here!" His voice is a little heavier when he asks you that.

You nod smiling again when your head goes, he knows my name, he knows my name, he knows my name.

"Choi San, right?"

Jongho's face turns blue, you think when you get his name wrong on purpose. You remember Yunho showing Choi San long time ago at a party so it was blurted out in front of Jongho as an accident but kind of intensionally. Because you are practically stalking his social media without following him. How can you not know his name?

"Nevermind, give me my latte quickly," he looks annoyed but doesn't show it to you as he waits for his order sitting on a corner while reading a book you've finished reading last week.

Someone delivers the latte and thus the day ends while he keeps reading the book having two lattes and you working like a madwoman so you don't see him looking like a painting in your peaceful cafe.

Maybe intensionally but you start avoiding him in the parties like he has been doing like a stupid girl you are. Part of you were tired of chasing him and part of you were feeling like an idiot. So, you wanted to stop.

What you kept up was calling him by everything except his own name.

And the day occur when you were alone in the cafe. It was night time, no customer was there neither the barista with you. You were about to close the cafe but suddenly the bell of the cafe ring and you look up meeting his sparkling dark brown eyes.

People in the world have brown eyes mostly. So, if you say dark brown is your thing that will sound wrong. But whenever you look into his eyes, he looks so dreamy and different from every human being who has brown eyes.

"Welcome, Kim Jongin."

Did you just call him by your favorite kpop man? Yes, you did.

Do you feel embarrassed? Yes, you do.

Do you want to run away? Yes, you do.

Do you want to say sorry? Absolutely not.

He looks around then right into your eyes and you don't know why your cap decides to fall from your head. Does he have any super power or your brain just pushed the cap away?

"You!" He sounds mad but then he pauses, takes a deep breath and thumps a tiny box in front of you on the table, "Yunho has told me to leave this box to you as he is busy."

You keep looking at him while he starts leaving but then looks back at you, "Why do you keep getting my name wrong?"

"Excuse me?"

Maybe you are not good at acting but you are genuinely surprise or maybe you are surprised because he has snapped.

"My name is Choi Jongho and you know it very well. Don't you?" He asks you that question a little too loud that it strikes right into your heart making your heart thudding so bad.

"I-I"

"Is there a problem with you and me?" He asks looking straight into your eyes. Maybe he didn't want to just look at your eyes because you feel his eyes dropping on your lips for a tiny second. Not once or twice but a multiple times. It was making you feel like he is having a hard time keeping his eyes focused on your eyes only.

"Isn't it normal for me to forget the name of a guy who doesn't even look at me in the party?"

You snap back at him. Maybe not because he snapped. Maybe because he is not pulling you for a kiss when your eyes have fallen on his lips a multiple times by now too.

"Nevermind," he says and walks away making the ring bell again leaving you there all alone by yourself.

You keep sitting in a chair for a while before locking the cafe. It's a bit late but you are feeling so full right now. You need to walk it out but as you turn, you see a familiar black Hyundai Accent car in front you.

"May I drop you home?"

Jongho asks you with a look of apology.

You keep standing there not understanding what to do.

"As an apology, please?" He asks and you smile softly before getting beside him.

For a long ten minutes none of you talk. But then Jongho starts, "I am not good at people."

"Me neither."

You reply and you both sigh together.

Before he can say anything further, you tell him to stop his car in front of your house, "This is it."

You don't look at him. You can not. You simply leave his car but look from the window, "Will you come for a pistachio latte?"

"You make that home?" He asks looking purely shocked and you nod.

"So, will you?"

"I can. It's not like I've things to do," that's a lie Jongho says to you. Tomorrow is his midterm exam and the subject feels vomiting to him. He doesn't tell you that or worries about it.

He follows you like a bear he is and enters in your abode. The first thing his eyes fall on are the books you bought after seeing them beside his bed's shelf.

"Have you read them?"

You mentally slap yourself seeing them on the couch.

"I have," there are seven books. The rest of them are in your bookshelf covered in packets. New as gold. He will see them soon and you'll regret calling him inside.

"Sit here," you move the books, "I'll bring the latte."

"Okay," he sits awkwardly on the couch and keeps staring at the new books. They look like they haven't been touched but they are circled, underlined a multiple times.

After a while, you come back with the latte and your cup of coffee simple but dark. Maybe like you.

"So, you read them recently?" He asks you and he knows the answer so you only nod.

He takes a sip of his coffee, "I didn't know how to approach you properly so I could never."

"Me neither."

Did you say that twice? Yes???

You try to cover the problem with intensionally getting his name wrong, "I- am not good at remembering things."

"You were pretty good with recalling my favorite flavored latte," he says and for the first time he smiles at you showing his gums. He looks at you smilingly but for some reason looking at you his smile falls out and his eyes drops on your lips.

He doesn't speak, he doesn't ask for anything. He knows he doesn't have to when he bends over you and you move closer too meet his lips closing your eyes.

Your lips melt into his when he gently wraps his one hand around you pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. His lips are like marshmallow and he tastes so good after having the latte maybe. The kiss doesn't leave you breathless because it keeps going smoothly with one lips to another. It drives you crazy and calms you down at the same time.

When he releases the kiss and looks at you, he reads your eyes that you are not satisfied with this much. He touches his forehead with yours, "Can I stay here tonight?"

He will definitely fail in his exam but he doesn't want to fail with you.

So, you nod too and the kiss turns into making love and making love one night turns into 3 years of dating.

You keep on working as barista not worrying about life as you have the best boyfriend ever but he doesn't get a job yet which keeps making him anxious.

Four of your friends have gotten married already after graduating with you but he doesn't want to talk about starting a new life. His part time job doesn't go well neither he is good at doing business. He can sing well but that isn't giving him chances to earn enough money for both of you.

You keep worrying over starting a journey with him when on new years eve you kneel on one knee in front of him and ask for his hand in marriage with you in front of all of your friends, "Marry me."

His shocking face tells you everything but you smile because you know why he hesitates. Your life style and his were always different. He knows what hunger is where you don't understand what shoe to wear on each day. He used to save money forgetting about breakfast while you couldn't stop eating though you wanted to lose weight.

You never knew what saving was until last year when you decided to propose him on one knee saving some money for further time so he can still work on his songs. You wanted to support him until he gets something for himself though luxury was always your normal chore.

"Listen, I have enough for the two of us. I have joined a company too. From dad's help but I know you would never take dad's help. So, I am going to do for both of us until you reach your goals. So, marry me," you tell him as he makes you stand up.

He doesn't say anything, only keeps his head down not being able to meet your eyes.

"I don't want to get old and wonder I should have married you long ago. Living with you is not enough, Jongho. I want to be called wife by you everyday," you tell him touching your forehead with his.

"I am sorry for not being enough," Jongho says holding your hands tightly.

But you smile, "Don't say that and listen, I love to waste money, Jongho. But I won't love to waste the rest of our lives."

"I won't be able to give you a diamond ring," he says.

"I want you to make me walk on the aisle. I don't care if it's a diamond ring or paper ring," you tell him and pulls you for a kiss in front of everyone while helping you to insert the ring inside his finger.

Breaking the stereotype was nice and it was hard living like he lives.

But waking up next to him and watching him breath where divorce never come as an option was the best thing that has ever happened to you.

Putting the whole song in the au. Did you like it?

Taglist :

@yeologicc @notyuji @theaufanartist @hwanchaesong @littleninja97 @fudgeflyssworld @loosmyshit @pinki-minki @sanshinee-world @harusomi @kitty4hwa @northerngalxy

[flyingwargle]

natsu stumbles out from her bedroom, rubbing sleep from her eye, dragging her fingers across the wall to guide her to the kitchen. she pours herself a cup of water to hydrate after a late night of watching vnl highlights and muffling her cheers into her blanket, shuffling into the living room to sit on the couch.

that was her plan, until she sees her brother sprawled across it, aimlessly channel surfing, the volume turned low. he glances at her. “morning. you’re up late.”

“it’s our rest day. what about you? don’t you have some crazy pro athlete regiment to follow?”

“i already went for a run while you were snoozing.”

oh, so she didn’t hallucinate the knocks on her door, or its creak. she looks away with a pout. “you could’ve woke me.”

“you look tired, so i didn’t want to bother you. no plans for today?”

“i have homework. no, you can’t help,” natsu adds before he can offer. last time he tried, she ended up tutoring him how to do algebra. “are you just going to stay at home all day?”

he shrugs. “maybe. i need rest days, too.” it’s hard to imagine that, honestly. her brother is constantly on the move, and whenever he’s back for breaks, he’s barely home, always bouncing between volleyball mutuals for friendlies or hosting talks for youth athletes. he’s the very definition of an extrovert.

natsu, on the other hand, considers herself an ambivert. she likes social interactions but also values her alone time. that’s why she declined her friend’s invitation to study together, to puzzle out physics on her own, and maybe work on some strategies that coach asked them to brainstorm. that’s why she stayed up watching those highlights; it’s definitely not because she wanted to watch ojiro aran for the nth time.

after brushing her teeth, she heats leftovers for lunch, clearing the table to do her homework at the dining table. at some point, hinata turned the tv off, settling in the silence with his book – probably something health-related. the house is quiet, with the occasional flip of his page, her pencil scratching against her notebook, long pauses intertwined to frown and ponder. eventually, she finishes her physics homework and completes her notes for next week. with a pleased smile, she rises to fetch the tablet in her room, glancing over at hinata, out of curiosity.

that’s when she hears faint snores in the air. natsu walks around the couch to observe him, arm behind his head as a makeshift pillow against the couch arm, limbs sprawled in front of him, feet propped on the other end. she notices an old issue of volleyball monthly left on the coffee table and picks it up, flips through it. thanks to some deal he’s made, her brother has a free monthly subscription, which he sends home to her because there’s no shortage of people with it in osaka.

she settles on a section that spotlights a few jnt athletes. she’s read through it enough times to have memorized the order – miya atsumu, who managed to wrangle the top server spot from kageyama; komori motoya, two-time winner of best overall libero; kiryuu wakatsu, a spiker that rivals in power with ushijima; bokuto koutarou, ever cheerful and formidable; and of course, ojiro aran, with a fierce look in his eye, thick muscles flexing as he holds a ball, eyes looking sideways toward his teammate. natsu will do anything for an autograph.

after him, though, is her brother. the photo depicts him in uniform, red with a white #10, ball held against his hip, eyes down and sharp in deep concentration. the blurb talks about his years in brazil as a beach volleyball player and debut as the opposite hitter for the black jackals. the world has an eye on him for his adaptability, impressive jumping height, and positivity.

huh, natsu thinks. he almost looks kind of cool. then she looks up. there’s a trail of drool coming from the corner of his mouth. she’s reassured that even if his face shows up on billboards, ads, and magazine articles, he’s still her same old big brother.

lowering the magazine, she turns to him. “nii-chan,” she calls out. “if you keep drooling, it’ll go on the couch and mom’ll yell at you!”

hinata wakes with a start, legs jerking upward. he blinks groggily, turning to stare at her. “wha’?”

she points. “your drool.”

it takes him a second. “oh!” using the back of his hand, he wipes his mouth clean, then gets off the couch, presumably to wash his hands. he returns to retrieve his book. “thanks. did you need something?”

“nah. well, if you want to help me come up with some volleyball plays…”

“yeah, of course! you got your tablet? i’ll make some tea!” he puts his book down and heads to the kitchen. natsu shakes her head with a smile, about to put the magazine down when she catches sight of his article, again. then, she flips to the previous page and approaches him.

“hey, nii-chan, i was wondering…”

--

inspiration: this fanart of natsu and hinata!

[foxes-that-run]

Haylor Gift Tabloids

There are several stories about gifts I will combine here:

HARRY'S ONE G OF PRESENTS - EXCLUSIVE £1,000 on Taylor's birthday (handbag, earrings, cupcakes & perfume)

23 Cupcakes for her birthday (the Mirror)

Harry gave Taylor a vintage bracelet for christmas (The Sun)

Harry sent Taylor a singing Telegram to perform WMYB in country style (The Sun - x)

Taylor buying Beatles Memorabilia (Daily Star)

Taylor had booked a Italy getaway for Harry's Birthday (The Sun)

1989 roses (I’ll post that video soon because Harry was asked)

I can't find the guitar though and wonder if it was from the image used in that Dolly layout above... unless maybe to be so expensive signed merch is a guitar. I also can't find an article about the opal ring

1 - HARRY'S ONE G OF PRESENTS - EXCLUSIVE £1,000 on Taylor's birthday

December 15, 2012 | Sun, The/Sun on Sunday, The (London, England) CAROLINE McGUIRE | Page: 3 | Section: News

LOVESTRUCK Harry Styles has splashed out more than £1,000 on birthday presents for new girlfriend Taylor Swift. The One Direction star celebrated the country singer turning 23 by buying her a £400 Jimmy Choo handbag, antique earrings, her favourite perfume — and 23 cup cakes. The cakes cost £38 and he picked them up in person from a husband-and-wife firm in Warrington, Cheshire. The treats included cookies & cream, candy floss and mint liqueur flavours. The 18-year-old also handed Taylor a black and white picture of them together in a vintage frame. A source said: "Harry put a lot of thought into her gifts and really wanted to show her just how special she is to him. "The boys teased him about how mushy he's become but he doesn't seem to care."

Caption:

Gifted couple ... Harry bought Taylor scent, cakes, a posh bag, earrings and a photo of them together

2 - 23 Cupcakes

Harry’s so sweet

Daily Mirror 15 Dec 2012

SOMEONE needs to offer Harry Styles a job on the UK tourist board as he continues wooing Taylor Swift with his “Best of British” theme.

The loved-up star, 18, celebrated girlfriend Taylor’s 23rd birthday on Thursday by giving her 23 cupcakes. PUKE. (not literally, we hope).

Hazza made the last-minute order to the Custom Cupcake Company in his home town of Holmes Chapel, Cheshire, on Wednesday night.

But it sounds like he got his mum to organise it all.

Bakery owner Matt Blakey revealed: “A lady called us asking if we could supply some cupcakes.

“I told her we were bursting at the seams.

“She said it was for Harry Styles and I said, “Oh, OK, cool. Send him along’.

“Later I got a phone call from my wife that Harry Styles was standing on the doorstep.

“I didn’t think he would come to pick them up!”

On Taylor’s special day the couple were also spotted out enjoying a romantic country walk and getting intimate during a pub lunch.

Enough now. Enough.

3 - Taylor's Stylish bracelet: VINTAGE GIFT FROM SAILOR HARRY

Smart, Gordon.  The Sun; London (UK). 04 Jan 2013: 18.

HARRY STYLES is showering TAYLOR SWIFT with gifts at the right time - just as ONE DIRECTION unveil camp snaps of him in a sailor outfit.

He's handed his missus a vintage emerald bracelet to celebrate them seeing in 2013 together in The Big Apple.

Which slightly makes up for the South Pacific look he's sporting here.

The singer found the gift for Taylor at a second-hand jewellery shop near his home in Cheshire while shopping over Christmas.

At least the trip out got him out of playing those endless games of Monopoly over the festive period.

A source said: "Harry handpicked the present for Taylor while he was back home.

"He found it in a secondhand shop and she was impressed when he handed it to her.

Dodgy "He gave it to her at the plush hotel they stayed in while they were celebrating New Year in New York.

"Harry is head over heels for Taylor and even admitted he loves her while they were in the Big Apple."

Now he just needs to keep her away from YouTube over the next week.

The band have filmed a clip for new single Kiss You dressed up in the sailor clobber.

A trailer for the video was released yesterday.

One shot also shows Harry wearing a very dodgy Hawaiian shirt.

The full promo will be be out on Monday next week.

Harry's bandmate LOUIS TOMLINSON won't need to worry about any embarrassment with his better half.

He liked to stick on a blue and white striped top and boaters every day anyway ...

4 - HARRY Styles yesterday hired a cheesy singing telegram to serenade Taylor Swift — as he spent Christmas 3,500 miles away from her.

The Sun - 26 December 2012 x

The teenage One Direction star got the crooner to belt out his band’s hit What Makes You Beautiful.

He also ordered it sung in country and western style — the kind of music his American girlfriend performs.

Harry, 18, fixed up the soppy surprise in the US before he jetted back to his family in the UK on Christmas Eve.

A source said: “Even though they were apart on Christmas Day, he wanted to make sure she’d be thinking of him. The singagram was an ideal present.

“She has a great sense of humour. He knew she’d think it was hilarious.”

The lovestruck boyband singer DID get to see 23-year-old Taylor yesterday — via a Skype videocall as each opened Christmas presents in the afternoon.

The source said: “Harry and Taylor can’t get enough of each other. Any moment they can spend together, they do. But Harry is also very close to his family. He wanted to be back home with them for Christmas.”

Harry first started dating Taylor two months ago.

The pair have been snapped together in Manchester, New York, Los Angeles and the swanky US ski resort of Aspen.

5- The Daily Star: Taylor's Fab Four-tune! Picture: EROTEME

December 18, 2012 | Daily Star (England) with ED DYSON and ELLE GRIFFITHS

HARRY Styles - we've a message from Taylor Swift: She Loves You yeah, yeah, yeah...

Well, she must do, since the country queen is splashing the cash Crimbo prezzies.

We hear Taylor, 23, is on the hunt for some mega-expensive Beatles merchandise to treat hunky Hazza whom she has been dating since last month.

Our spies told us: "Harry spent GBP900 on Taylor for her recent birthday, and now she wants to repay the favour - and then some.

"She's been phoning Beatles stores in Liverpool hoping to find pieces of rare autographed memorabilia she knows Harry will love.

"A staff member at one store let slip she wanted to spend somewhere between GBP40,000 and GBP50,000."

Wow. The Fab Four may have said Can't Buy Me Love, but if you could, that sum would probably cover it. And it's no wonder the boyband heart-throb is such a fan, as the 1D craze sweeping the world drew comparisons to the Fab Four.

Harry, 18, even admitted he could see the similarities himself.

Icons He said: "We watched that film of The Beatles when they touched down in America and saw a likeness with our personalities. They loved having a laugh like us."

Luckily Mr Styles's ego isn't as big as his barnet.

He explained: "The comparisons seem ridiculous to us, because they were such icons."

Well, you might never have the influence of the Beatles, Harry, but you can at least get your mitts on plenty of their stuff.

6 - It's all gondola wrong, Harry - SPLIT AXES TAYLOR'S VENICE BIRTHDAY GIFT

January 15, 2013 | Sun, The/Sun on Sunday, The (London, England) GORDON SMART | Page: 18,19 | Section: Business

ONE of TAYLOR SWIFT's pals could be in for a free holiday in Venice. The US singer had plans for a romantic city break with ex HARRY STYLES as a treat for his 19th birthday next month. She was planning to surprise the ONE DIRECTION star with five nights at the posh Palazzina Grassi on the Grand Canal. Harry only found out about it last week - and is now feeling even worse about the whole relationship going pear-shaped. He has since organised a trip to Las Vegas with JUSTIN BIEBER - which could suggest that gondola action might not have floated his boat anyway. A source said: "Taylor organised an allexpenses-paid trip before the split. "She even arranged a private gondola for them for the entire time they would be there." Drinking limoncello in a posh hotel in Italy on your birthday would be nice. But Harry's only just become too old for Disneyland. Speaking of youthful antics, above are a few smaps from his schooldays. The lack of tattoos is the only giveaway that the pictures weren't taken yesterday. One picture that was taken recently is this shot of Taylor at the Golden Globes looking stunning in a purple fishtail gown. There was a lot being said about how busty she was looking compared to normal. Hollywood, eh? She and Harry, whose 65-day romance ended after New Year, exchanged expensive gifts at Christmas, but now they're redundant too. The source added: "Taylor isn't using the designer bag he bought her any more. She'd also sorted some exclusive birthday presents for him - new threads from Savile Row and BEATLES memorabilia. "Harry is pretty gutted about the whole thing, even though he's putting on a cool front. He's touched she went to so much trouble to arrange his birthday ahead of time." It's not total doom and gloom, though - 1D ticket sales have soared by 50 per cent since the split. Websites handling the band's 2013 tour, including Seatwave, say they noticed the sharp increase immediately after the romance ended. So Harry will rake in as much from the break-up as Taylor will from her upcoming song about the broken relationship. They need it as well.