#and then at the beginning of this year i started a new sketchbook with the same goal (finish it by the end of the year) in mind

[aster-go-brrr]

my fic ideas battle to the death in my brain and then at the last minute, the personification of the concept of time (or the lack thereof) shows up and dunks the whole thing into a wheely bin

[jeneveuxrein]

better (ITZY Ryujin)

word count: 13.6K

(much overdue, and the pacing pissed me off that i gave up with editing. regardless, enjoy)

-- -- -- 

Shin Ryujin was seventeen when you met. 

You were at the tattoo shop, drawing in your sketchbook since you recently started as an apprentice, when she walked in. You didn’t know who she was at first because she looked young to be there, innocent, shielded from the sad reality of life. The thought of a teenager rebelling against their parents’ wishes was at the top of your list. Why would a girl like that be in a place like this? She was cute—pretty even, that you were sure that if she was closer to your age, you’d approach her. 

She appeared to be looking for someone anyways. 

That someone was her brother, the owner of this establishment, and your mentor. Ryuseong greeted her, patting her head, as she pushed him off. She pouted, rolling her eyes, which made him laugh. 

You brought your attention back to the paper, shading lightly this design you had been working on. Ryuseong praised you for your designs, appreciating your line work, which was the reason he took you in. He thought you had potential, something you took seriously. He hadn’t let you practice on people yet, but you were getting there. He had a couple clients willing, so it was only a matter of time. 

You heard your name being called, breaking your concentration that your hand slips, an unintended line messing up the sketch. You sighed to see Ryuseong waving you over. It wasn’t like you could say no. Reluctantly, you stood up, making your way over and putting on your customer service face. 

Ryuseong introduced you to his little sister, who didn’t give you much except for a bored look and a half-assed handshake. She barely even bowed, so you met her in the same regard. 

“This is my new apprentice,” Ryuseong pulled you in, wrapping a loose arm around your neck. “He’s pretty good. He’ll be tattooing people in no time.” 

“That’s cool,” Ryujin said in a tone that matched her expression. 

It took a lot for you not to roll your eyes, especially in front of your boss. You didn’t, thankfully, awkwardly smiling as he asked her if she wanted to get dinner. He even invited you, which you couldn’t say no to this either. 

Ryujin walked away, leaving you alone with your boss. He chuckles to himself, prompting you to raise an eyebrow. 

“She likes you,” Ryuseong grinned before his face suddenly turned serious. “Just in case, you break her heart, I’ll break your face.” 

You deadpanned, scoffing even. As if you would date Ryujin. There was at least a five-year age gap and she wasn’t like the usual women you dated. Odds were slim to begin with. 

“Come on, hyung,” You shook your head, the thought slightly annoying you. “She’s your sister. I would not date my boss’s sister.” 

A pensive look crossed his face, shrugging, “We’ll see about that.” 

There wasn’t anything to see. 

(At least if there was something to see, you would have seen it. It would have been obvious. 

(It wasn’t.))

-- -- 

The shriek from behind you would have startled you, unintentionally making the wrong movement, earlier in your career. It jolted your client though, causing you to swiftly withdraw the needle before it touched their skin. 

“Yuna-yah,” A familiar voice floated through your ears, followed by a slap. The woman in question whined, and you were certain she was pouting. “Oppa’s working. Be quiet. He needs to concentrate.” 

“It’s fine, Ryujin,” You smiled at your client who lifted his head up to see what the commotion was. You apologized, chuckling as you explained that the woman who yelled wasn’t used to the buzzing of the needle. “And yet she still wants a tattoo,” You joked, even though you thought it was ironic. 

It seemed to put him at ease as the women behind you fell into a hushed conversation. You overheard something about where to eat, and a third voice you also know, asked if they should invite you. 

“Oppa,” You looked at Ryujin once you were done with a minor detail. “How much longer do you have? Unnie wants you to go to dinner with us.” 

Yeji huffed, hitting Ryujin whose nose scrunched. She whined, shoving her face into Yuna’s back. The other girls laughed, shaking their heads at the very well-known crush that Yeji had on you. 

You smirked, Yeji burying her face in more, “I have a little under an hour. I’ll pay if you don’t mind waiting.”

The girls nodded, smiling brightly, that you winked at Yeji. You saw her cheeks blush from across the room, hiding her face behind Yuna. You noticed Ryujin sigh, rolling her eyes at the exchange. 

You found it adorable whenever Ryujin acted like this. You didn’t think you did anything to feed into Yeji’s crush. You were how you always were, but according to Ryujin, you gave her friend the idea that you were into her too.

You weren’t, by any means. You had your interests in someone else. Someone Ryujin knew well, very well, because that someone was her. 

It wasn’t something you expected. 

You should’ve taken it seriously when Ryuseong made that comment all those years ago. 

Ryujin spent a fair amount of time at the tattoo studio. She would often come by after school, and sometimes even on the weekends to help out. You saw her more often than your own girlfriend at the time. There were days she acknowledged your presence with a mumbled hi while other days you barely even got a glance. You didn’t take it personally because she was your boss’s sister. There weren’t any expectations for you to be friends with her. The only expectation you held yourself to was to be polite and respectful. 

It happened slowly, but she started hanging around your table, approaching you with simple questions. She wouldn’t linger, asking before walking back across the room. She sometimes rolled the chair over, curious about whatever sketch you were working on. She didn’t know if she wanted a tattoo herself because she wouldn’t know what kind to get. 

Ryujin asked, one day, about the tattoos on your arm, and after that day, she always sat by you. She kept you within arm’s reach, never invading your space. You didn’t comment on it, conversing with her based on her moods. There was a nice banter and there was a comfortable quiet. You never forced a conversation with her, it always came naturally. She picked up on your moods too, knowing when to keep talking and when to exist.

“Whatever, we’ll be over there,” She gestured to the poker table. “Get us when you’re done.” 

You nodded, dipping the tattoo pen into the ink. She didn’t seem irritated, but you would find out later. 

Unknown to her, Yeji knew something was going on between you. To what extent? You couldn’t say, but she had an idea. She asked you out once before, but it was around the time the lines with Ryujin blurred. You enjoyed watching Ryujin squirm. Maybe it was an ego boost, but you had always been loyal to your partners. 

Yeji still found you attractive, so it was hard not to blush when her friends teased her. It also didn’t help you’d feed into it just to get a reaction out of Ryujin. 

That was always fun.

-- -- 

You stayed late one night, finishing up a design for a client that was going to take about eight hours to complete. You had already met him earlier that day to scale everything on his body along with making any final touches. Ryuseong trusted you enough to close the shop up, so it wasn’t an issue to have the place to yourself while everyone already left. 

You heard footsteps over the music playing and saw Ryujin walking towards you. 

“Leave something?” You asked absentmindedly, shading a section. 

“Forgot my laptop,” Ryujin answered when she got closer. She grabbed the device that you moved to the corner of your desk. You noticed she left it earlier, intending to drop it off at her place on your way home. “What’re you working on?” She pulled up a seat, wheels rolling before stopping once you kicked your foot out. 

“Finishing touches,” Ryujin leaned into your periphery as you kept drawing lines. “Busy with finals?” 

“Don’t remind me,” She groaned, running her fingers through her hair. “I also have this project with Chaeryoung that we need to finish tonight. I’m heading over there now.” 

You hummed in acknowledgment, figuring she got what she needed and would be on her way. She didn’t. She was still next to you. 

“I think I want a tattoo,” Ryujin said suddenly, causing you to look up from your iPad. 

Ryujin and her friends had talked about getting tattoos. They were open to it, but half of them hated needles. The other half didn’t know what they wanted—that was fair, the first tattoo is always the hardest to decide. 

“Is Ryuseong going to be alright with that?” You asked, tapping the screen to save your work. You’d finish later. 

She rolled her eyes, “A bit hypocritical of him if he says no. He has so many.” 

“Tattoos are a bit taboo for women, especially here,” You shrugged, leaning back in your chair. “Gangs and all that.”

“And you’re being sexist,” She slapped your chest lightly. 

“I’m only joking,” You rubbed the spot she hit, as she stuck her tongue out. “Do you know what you’d want? Or where?” 

Ryujin leaned forward, her perfume invaded your senses. You glanced at her lips, shaking the thought of what’d they feel like against yours. “I think,” She paused, crossing one leg over the other, “Maybe somewhere on my rib cage?” 

“Of what?” You cleared your throat, realizing how close she was to you.

“Something small, something cute,” Ryujin smiled softly. “Any ideas?” 

You hadn’t thought about it, but a few come to mind. 

“Where exactly?” You asked, not thinking she’d lift up her sweater along with partially lifting up the sports bra she was wearing. You had never seen so much of her skin. “Uh?”

“Maybe here?” Ryujin traced her finger over a spot. “Now that I think about it, maybe a broken heart?” 

“Someone broke your heart?” You were ready to fight whoever it was. You had grown protective of her over the years. 

Ryujin shook her head, chuckling as she dropped her clothes, “And if someone did? What’re you going to do?” 

You didn’t want to say because she knew of your temper, especially when it came to someone you cared about. 

“I’ll fight them,” You said confidently, crossing your arms. “I don’t care.” 

Ryujin rolled her eyes, muttering something you didn’t quite catch. She rested her head on your shoulder, sighing. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to be like this with her. It brought you a sense of closeness, knowing she felt safe with you. 

At least, that was what you told yourself. 

“Can you give me a ride to Chae’s? I took the train here,” Ryujin asked after a moment. “I saw your car out front.” 

You were going to regardless. Her brother would have you dead if anything happened to his sister and you were the last one with her. You shrugged, and she knew what your answer was. 

As you walked out, Ryujin told you about her day. She and Lia had been holed up in the library, studying with an array of snacks. She was looking forward to the girls’ trip they planned to Jeju Island where the only plan was to relax. 

You opened the car door for her, rolling your eyes at her comment of how you were such a gentleman. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done this before for her, or for any woman in your life, but coming from her seemed to mean more. 

Ryujin plugged in her phone, scrolling for what song to play as you put the car in drive. She chose something slow and mellow, you had never heard it before, but it sounded nice. 

A comfortable silence blanketed the car ride. The only noise coming from the speakers as Ryujin kept adding songs to the queue. You mindlessly drove to Chaeryoung’s, eyes focused on the road until the song cut in the middle of the chorus. You checked the screen for an incoming call from Rosie. 

“Rosie?” You didn’t miss the slight tilt in Ryujin’s voice, questioning, borderline accusatory. “Answer it. I’ll be quiet.” 

You gave her a pointed look, and her head turned out to the window. You didn’t want to, but reluctantly pressed the button. 

“Oppa,” Rosie’s voice filled the car. The pitch was low, seductive, the kind of voice that spelled trouble in the best kind of way. “What’re you up to?”

“I’m in the car,” You said, hoping she doesn’t say anything too explicit. 

Ryujin shook her head, likely accompanied with an eye roll you couldn’t see. You felt the annoyance roll off her body. 

“I miss you,” Rosie said slowly, the obvious reason why she called. “I could use your help with this problem I know you could fix. Do you want to come over?”

“Oh?” Was all you could say. You glanced at the woman next to you, catching the tail end of an eye roll. “Um,” You paused, unsure of how to answer. It was awkward because you had someone in the car with you, but what made it a hundred times more awkward was it was Ryujin. She elbowed you, nodding to respond. “How about I let you know in about ten minutes?” 

“You’re going to make me wait?” Rosie lightly teased. “Fine. I’m, like, really horny,” Naturally forward in situations like this, “So I’ll be touching my—”

“Got it, Chaeng,” You rushed out before she could finish her sentence. “I’ll call you. Bye.” You ended the call, sending a sheepish smile to Ryujin as she rolled her eyes.

You should explain, though you couldn’t reason why. It almost felt like you were caught doing something you shouldn’t be, guilt weighing on your shoulders when it was normal to have a noncommittal relationship with a woman who saw sex the same way—just that. 

You had met Rosie, or Chaeyoung depending on the day, a few months back while you were out with one of your colleagues. Lisa introduced you since Rosie came with Jennie—the love of Lisa’s life—and simply got to talking. She had a high-stress job that gave her no room for a relationship, and she had no inclination to be in one. Your life was the complete opposite, but you also shared the sentiment on dating. 

Things had progressed after a couple drinks. A few intentional touches on your hand. Her body somehow closer than it started. At one point, her hand rested on your thigh as Lisa told a story. 

You ended the night sleeping together. It was the right amount of casualness that, the morning after, led to Rosie proposing it as a regular thing with the no strings attached clause. You saw nothing wrong with it as it was a means to a biological end. 

Yet you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you did something wrong as Ryujin remained silent the rest of the drive. She didn’t bother to touch her phone to change the song or check any messages. She was just there, blankly staring outside the window as the street lights flickered across her face.

You approached Chaeryoung’s building, pulling up to the curb as you put the car in park. You unbuckled your seatbelt, but Ryujin was faster, opening the door before you could make your way around. 

“Hey,” You called after her as soon as you got out of the car. She was already a couple meters away when she stopped to turn around. “I’m sorry.” You had nothing to apologize for, but you felt the need to. 

Ryujin’s shoulder dropped, and her expression softened. She waited until you met her on the sidewalk before she spoke, “For what?” She kept her voice steady, emotionless even. 

“Just,” You awkwardly gestured to your car, “For that phone call. You shouldn’t have heard any of it.” 

There was a trace of emotion you couldn’t discern, but it vanished before you could. She shrugs, lazily tilting her head slightly backward, “It’s whatever. I told you to answer it anyways.” 

You apologized again, and Ryujin brushed it off. There was still that inkling of doubt, but you didn’t say anymore. You were walking a thin line of what she said versus what she actually meant. You took it at face value. 

You perched yourself on the small brick wall, stretching your legs out as you waited for Chaeryoung to open the door. Ryujin mentioned something about the connection being down so the building occupants weren’t able to open the door remotely.

“Just go. You don’t have to wait,” Ryujin reached for your hands, attempting to pull you up. When you didn’t budge, her arms slacken, but her hands still held yours. She stepped in closer, nearly standing in between your legs. “You have to make a phone call.” 

“Do you want me to?” You asked bluntly. Tired of the internal struggle your mind was in, you had to know. Her eyes widened, surprised, which told you that you were right, something was wrong.

You couldn’t explain what was happening, but whatever shred of decency you had was slipping. Whatever line you drew for yourself when it came to Ryujin was crossed, blurred, erased, as she kept her eyes on you. 

“Well,” Ryujin dropped your hands, crossing her arms over her chest, “If I said no?”

“Then I send her a text and I go home,” You answered honestly. You’d like to think you were a decent guy, doing your best to keep your word. 

“And if I said yes?” She moved enough for her hands to rest on your shoulders. 

“Then I see where the night takes me.” Even though Rosie's tone in the car made it very clear what your night would entail. Ryujin leaned forward, and your arms snaked around her waist to pull her into you, looking up at her. “So which is it?”

She had never been this close, in your space. The urge to kiss her had never felt so strong, that very same urge you pushed so far down because it was Ryujin. Chaeryoung needed to get down here now before you took the woman in your arms back to yours—final project be damned. 

“No,” Pause, “Don’t call her.”

You nodded easily because her eyes promised that it wasn’t going to be with Rosie anymore. It was going to be with her.

“When I get back,” Head leaning forward as she brushed her lips against yours, a sneak peek of what was to come, the contact firing all the nerves in your body. “Wait for me, yeah?” 

You were rendered speechless off a barely kiss that by the time your brain started functioning, the door swung open. Ryujin was out of your arms, composed as if whatever the fuck just happened, didn’t. 

Chaeryoung stepped outside, a curious look as her eyes darted between you. “Am I interrupting something?” 

“Nope,” Ryujin said easily, popping the p as she walked up the steps, leaving you alone. She met her friend at the top. “Thanks for the ride, oppa. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, Ryujin pulled her friend into the building, receiving a curt bye and wave from Chaeryoung as the door shut. 

You had to keep your word, but you weren’t sure if she would. 

You’d find out soon enough.

-- 

Ryujin showed up at your apartment a few days later—six to be exact, but it wasn’t like you were keeping track. There was a knock, a barely heard sound that you had to mute your television to be sure. 

You were surprised to see her, welcoming her in as you opened the door wide open. 

You had minimal contact since you dropped her off at Chaeryoung’s, with small updates on finishing the semester and how the Jeju trip was going. It was more than what you usually send each other, things that didn’t warrant a response. You were inclined to fool yourself into thinking it was her way of making sure you didn’t forget about her. 

(You didn’t. 

You couldn’t. 

Ryujin was all you thought about if you weren’t working.)

You grabbed her luggage from her, putting it to the side. She explained that Yeji dropped her off once they returned. To your surprise again, none of the women questioned why she had to come over especially right after a trip, though she mentioned there were a few raised eyebrows and snickers from Lia and Yuna. 

“So,” Ryujin leaned against the wall. You take in her comfortable wardrobe, an oversized hoodie that reminded you of one you hadn’t seen in a while and a simple pair of sweats. 

“So.” You broke out into a smile when she rolled her eyes. “How was the trip?”

“Good.” Short answer, not adding anything else, but you watched her carefully. Not wanting to pressure into anything because there weren’t any expectations for this visit. “How have things been at the studio?”

“Good.” You replied the same way, internally smirking when you caught her eyebrow twitch. 

“You’re annoying, you know that right?” Ryujin huffed, pushing herself off the wall. 

“And yet, you’re here,” You took a small step forward. Your hand twitched to reach out, but kept that under control.

Patience was what you told yourself.

Ryujin moved closer to you, just enough for her to be within reach. That was when you let the restraint go, wrapping an arm around her to have body pressed against yours. She let out a small hmph as you chuckled. Her hands gently pressed on your chest as she looked up. 

She nearly stole the breath from your lungs when her eyes met yours. She’s beautiful, something you were always aware of, but being this close, made it seem like you had never really seen her. 

“What do you want to do?” You murmured, eyes glancing at her lips. You wondered how she tasted. That kiss, if you could even deem it as one, made you want her. 

“Watch this new drama with me?” It was an innocent suggestion, but based on the look in her eyes, it was the complete opposite. 

You complied, relaxing your arm to let her walk towards the couch. You couldn’t figure out her angle, and honestly, it didn’t matter. If she wanted to draw this tension out, you would go with it until one of you snapped. 

(You hoped it wasn’t going to be you.)

It happened like this. 

Ryujin put whatever show she wanted to watch on as you settled on the couch. She scooted a bit, making room, but it was pointless when she curled herself into you, resting her head in the crook of your neck. 

The opening credits started as your body relaxed into the cushion. You were hyper aware of Ryujin and all the movements she made. She placed her hand on your stomach, a bit lower than you’d say for cuddling. You did your best to ignore your body’s reaction, your cock stirred as her hand found a new spot on the waistband of your sweats.

One minute your attention was on the television, the next Ryujin was on your lap. She pulled you into a searing kiss that you followed without hesitating, letting out a groan the moment her tongue dipped into your mouth. 

The next minute, or however long it was, Ryujin kneeled in between your legs, hand swiftly moving to pull your length out. She didn’t bother with pulling your sweats all the way down, just enough for her to wrap her lips around you. 

“Ryujin,” You groaned through gritted teeth, head tilting backwards as her tongue licked around the tip. 

It had to have lasted longer than a minute because by the time Ryujin popped your now-erect cock out of her mouth, she was undressed, naked, as she straddled you. 

There were too many things happening at once and your brain didn’t have the bandwidth to register it fast enough. You didn’t have time to admire Ryujin’s body because her hand reached for your cock, gently tapping over her clit. And she was soaked. You could probably slide right in between her legs and spontaneously combust because it was all too much. She guided you along her slit, making everything wetter as she teased the tip at her entrance. 

Your hands grabbed onto her hips, the muscles pliable as they tightened to bring her body down. You had one thing on your mind and that was Ryujin. 

As you tried your best to get her to move, Ryujin leaned forward, lips ghosting your ear, “Do you want to know something?”

You didn’t understand why or how she felt the need to tell you whatever was more pressing than getting inside her as quickly as possible. 

“What?” You groaned again as your cock slid in between her lower lips. Your body had a mind of its own, rolling upward for the tip to graze where you need to be at this point. 

“Do you really want to know?” The question came out breathy, voice shaking as you tried to pull her down. 

You didn’t, but her position was firm. She didn’t budge. “Yes, fuck, tell me.” Your control was slipping fast. 

“I’ve thought about this,” Ryujin said as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I’ve thought about you like this. I always wondered what it’d be like.”

You didn’t share that sentiment, but at this rate with a naked Ryujin squirming on your lap, doing everything to not slide straight down, your imagination ran wild. 

“Well, why don’t we find out?” You grunted, frustrated with her teasing. 

Ryujin strategically placed your tip, shifting her body slightly forward, at her opening. Heat emanated from the contact and you nearly blew your load, embarrassingly enough. You’d like to believe you had a healthy sex life. One that wasn’t outrageous, but one that you indulge in casually, occasionally, with women. You weren’t a stranger to one night stands, but you tended to be consistent with one person.

“You’re definitely bigger than I imagined,” She slowly, so fucking slowly, inserted you, lowering her body as you were immediately engulfed by her warmth. “I don’t know if you’ll fit. It feels tight.”

“Jagiya,” The nickname fell from your mouth too easily, earning a grin from the woman who literally could do anything to you. 

“Jagiya?” Ryujin repeated, tilting her head. “Cute. I didn’t know you thought of me so fondly already.” 

Your mind screamed enough, done with her teasing to the point that you needed to take the control back. 

(You had none left, but that wasn’t the point.) 

In a fluid motion, you switched positions, lifting Ryujin off before she could continue any longer with the torturous pace she tried to set. Her knees fell to the side, and you finally took all of her in. 

“You’re…” You had no words. Her skin was soft, yet firm as you ran your hands down her stomach. The muscles flinched at the touch, watching her tilt her head back as you swiped a broad finger through her folds. “Testing me. You have about five seconds to tell me to stop.”

Ryujin smirked, boldly slipping her hand in between your bodies. Delicate fingers wrapped around your girth, aiming the head directly where you were dying to be. “Do it, jagiya.”

Your hands shot to her waist as you sunk in.

The air left your lungs the moment her warmth hugged your length, her legs spread wider as you continued to sink deeper into her. Her hand fell to the side, gripping the cushion as she let out the hottest moan you ever heard. A sound you wanted to hear again. 

And again the moment you filled her to the hilt. 

You swore you saw the gates of heaven opened up—or hell—welcoming you with a warm, tight hug. 

“Okay so better than I imagined,” Ryujin moaned, all breathy, “So fucking better.” 

You blanked out, unsure of what reality you fell into. You couldn’t think of anything but her. “Baby,” You groaned as her walls pulsed, throbbing along with your cock. You blew out a breath to keep you from blowing your load. 

“You feel better,” Ryujin said slowly, seductively, thick with desire, “But can you fuck me like how I imagined?” 

The challenge tapped into a side you didn’t go to often. Hardly ever. A much darker side you only went to with one person before. It hadn’t been seen since. 

Yet it was there, on your shoulder, whispering into your ear that Ryujin wanted it. Wanted you and all the debauchery you could bring into her life. 

“Don’t tempt me, Jin-yah,” You gritted through your teeth, the voice on your shoulder getting louder as she squirmed in your hold. The movement triggered the nerves in your body, shooting along your spine at the sensation. 

“Fuck me,” Ryujin moaned, rolling her body down in a fluid motion. You snapped your hips forward, watching her breasts bounce from the force. “God, yes. Please.” 

You slowly, agonizingly, withdrew your cock, leaving just the head nestled in between her folds. You didn’t miss the way she gasped, sharply inhaling, whining at the loss. You saw the way her lower lips pulsed, gripping on the little you left inside her.

“You want me?” You had to hear her say it. You needed her permission before you listened to the devil, praising you for the sins you wanted to commit. 

Ryujin eagerly nodded, eyes low as she stared at you. “I want you.” 

You thrusted without warning, her body jolting as she bit her lip, stifling a moan. 

“I want to hear you,” You grunted with another precise thrust. 

This time, Ryujin screamed. 

“Fuck,” Your eyes rolled back, choking out, “I want to drown myself in you.” 

You moved on pure instinct after that. You focused on Ryujin, her moans, her gasps, her body reacting to yours. You might have lost your sense of reality because she felt too tight, too warm, too good, but she tethered you, guiding you to remind you that what was happening was very real. 

You didn’t know how, but you somehow ended up in your room. Ryujin placed a finger on your chest, gently pushing you on the bed. You let her, easily laying back before she straddled your hips. 

“My turn,” Ryujin kissed you sweetly on the lips before you were wrapped around her once again. 

It happened fast, embarrassingly fast as she rode you into oblivion. You couldn’t help but move with her, meeting her at the perfect time. She fell forward once you hit that spot, bringing her mouth to yours in a messy kiss. 

“God,” Ryujin breathed out, “I’m going to—”

“Me too,” You grunted with a quick snap of your hips. You felt her pussy tightening as her pace increased, nearly slamming down on your body. “I—fuck, where?” 

How you had the state of mind to ask was beyond you. You wanted to paint her walls white, making sure she was filled with you and then some. Her hands found yours, interlacing them together as she brought your arms over your head. 

“In my mouth,” Ryujin said sharply before slyly adding, “But after I cum.” 

You didn’t get the chance to formulate a response because Ryujin’s hands let go, perching them on your chest as you watched her hips move dangerously over you. You pathetically whimpered at the sight of your cock disappearing in between her legs. Your stomach tightened as you miserably tried to hold it together, and you almost exploded the moment her inner walls squeezed like vice, sucking the air out of your lungs. Her body froze before violently shaking, the rhythmic pulses had you dizzy with pleasure. 

It took everything in you to not cum inside her as you watched her orgasm shatter through her. She nearly sobbed as her nails dug into your chest, the pain heightening all your senses. 

You almost shouted when the air hit your cock, the warmth suddenly gone before it was replaced with another kind of warmth, a different kind that had you seeing stars. 

“Oh—fuck,” Your hand shot downwards, fingers tangling in Ryujin’s hair. “So fucking good, Jin-yah.” 

The praise spurred her on as her throat constricted around your length, catching you off guard that you couldn’t stop your orgasm any more. Hot thick ropes shot out of you without warning. Ryujin slightly gagged, causing you to thrust into her mouth as you pushed her head down more. 

That was the hardest you ever came, and Ryujin drained you into her mouth without any complaint, any resistance. Once it subsided, the grip on her hair slackened, arm falling off to the side, as your eyes fell shut. You vaguely heard her choke, heavily breathing, that you barely opened your eyes to see a small dribble of your essence drip down her chin. You didn’t miss the way her throat moved, swallowing your release without asking. 

Ryujin’s eyes opened slowly, a small smile tugging at her lips as your eyes met. Her jaw lowered, seeing all pink with pearly white teeth with no trace of you anywhere. 

“So?” You said after a moment, catching your breath. She placed a soft kiss on your stomach before crawling back on top of you, laying her head sweetly on your chest. “Better than your imagination?” 

“You have no idea,” Ryujin answered softly, affectionately, lips kissing your neck. 

-- -- 

You fell into some sort of routine with Ryujin. 

She waited till you were done with clients at the studio, waited till your work station was clean, waited for you while Ryuseong teased you both. 

You didn’t ask her to, but there was some part of you that was glad she did. 

Some nights ended the way the first day did while others ended falling asleep, cuddled underneath the blanket, wrapped around each other while you shared things you never spoke of. 

There was this part of you that wanted to ask her out, like on a date, in public, not restricted to the four walls of your apartment. You could hardly count takeaways with a drama queued as a ‘date.’

You weren’t even sure if whatever was going on was something serious or something just for fun. With the amount of time you spent with her, the more it felt serious. 

-- --

“You’re going to the opening right?” Yuna asked as she walked through the door, exiting the restaurant, arms interlocked with Ryujin. 

“It’s my brother’s second tattoo shop in Itaewon,” Ryujin answered, “And the tenth anniversary of his first one, of course I will.”

“It’ll be nice,” Yeji added next to you. “Oppa said there’s going to be a DJ too.” 

You had just finished dinner, paid by you, which wasn't a big deal. You tended to pay for things when you were out with Ryujin and her friends. It sort of just happened when before you and Ryujin slept together, things would be split evenly among the group. They were surprised the first time, shocked even, that you paid without them knowing. They wanted to give you their share, but you brushed them off, giving an excuse that they were still in school and their money should be saved. The girls began talking about their semester starting in a few weeks. 

You stayed back a little, opting for a quick nicotine fix before you spend the rest of your evening with Ryujin. She wanted to finish the drama you had been watching together. You didn’t want to hover, or have the smoke in their faces. 

You noticed Ryujin turned her head slightly backward, ensuring you were still behind them. You held up the vape pen she forced you to buy because she wasn’t the biggest fan of cigarettes. You never thought you’d give them up, the short-lived high wasn’t the same, but for her, you found yourself switching over. 

(The smile on her face after she kissed you one night when she didn’t taste the bitterness of tobacco was a choice you didn’t mind doing.) 

Ryujin rolled her eyes, falling back into the conversation as you took a long drag. You held the air, letting the poison sit in your body, before you blew the air out, the slight tilt of your head back as the smoke filled your vision. The rush didn’t have the same effect, but it was enough for you to relax your body. 

You listened in on their discussion, something about the classes they were taking. Ryujin told you her schedule once she found out, saying she wouldn’t be at the shop as much with final year projects and such. She seemed a bit annoyed at that, but convinced you to pick her up when she needed it. It didn’t take much, but she promised she wouldn’t inconvenience you—she was never one to begin with.

You took another drag, tuning the chatter out, when Yuna mentioned something that caught your attention. It was a simple question about some boy named Haein? from what you could hear without being nosey, that she directed to Ryujin. 

“Yuna-yah,” Ryujin lightly scolded, shaking her head, “I already told you. I’m not interested in him.”

“You went out with him twice, and from what Lia’s heard, you keep avoiding him and won’t answer any of his calls,” The information stung because you hadn’t realized this was happening. You knew Ryujin had a life outside of hanging out at her brother’s studio and spending nights with you, but you would have wanted to know. “Twice seems pretty interested.”

The vape pen was brought to your lips reflexively, breathing in deeply to tamper the sudden ache behind your ribcage. You were never a controlling person in a relationship, so you didn’t know what to do with this feeling. Something akin to jealousy, but closer to hurt.

You heard Yeji mumble Yuna not now as she glanced at you. You met her eyes, a sad pitying look that you shrugged. You needed to remember that nothing was established, nothing said you were together, but everything screamed differently. 

“Oppa,” Yuna turned around, yanking her companion to face you in the middle of the street. “What do you think? Does it seem like unnie’s interested? You know her well enough.” 

You tucked your vape pen into your pocket, glancing at Ryujin as you chose your words carefully. “I don’t think anything. She’s allowed to do what she wants,” Was what you came up with. You didn’t miss the way the woman in question tensed, and you weren’t sure if Yuna noticed. If she did, it wasn’t acknowledged. 

“Oh come on,” Yuna rolled her eyes, and by the way her gaze rolled back to you, you were going to be challenged. “How would you feel if someone you went out a couple times with, and it all went well, kept dodging your calls?” 

“I’d let it be,” You shrugged, indifferent to the hypothetical situation, “They have their own life. I’d be a little sad, but I can’t force them to want to spend time together.” You hoped that answer would suffice, tacking on a subtle dig to Ryujin. 

“See, Yuna, now drop—”

The youngest cut in before Yeji could finish her sentence, “Ugh, boring. Where’s the chase? The back and forth? The pining?” 

“I don’t have time for that,” You said bluntly, trying not to sound too harsh. You were starting to get irritated. “I’m generally upfront about how I feel and what I want when I’m with someone. If they just want to fuck, fine I’m in. If they want something more serious and I feel the same way, I tell them.”

“And what if it’s reversed?” The questions didn’t stop. All these hypotheticals that never directly translate into practice. “What if you want something more serious and they don’t feel the same way? What do you do then?” 

You got the feeling there was an underlying agenda. It was like she was searching for an answer. It hit a little too close. You didn’t want to be the first to show your hand with Ryujin right there. 

“Then it ends,” You said simply, reaching for your pocket. You desperately wanted 

“That simple?” Yuna raised an eyebrow, even crossing her arms with Ryujin still wrapped around. 

You had always been in tune with Ryujin’s emotions, and you saw her eyebrow twitch—a clear sign she was starting to get annoyed. “Unfortunately yeah,” Shrugging, “I’m not going to waste time with someone that doesn’t feel the same way if things are heading in that direction. Might as well save both of us the pain.” 

Yuna dropped the topic, rolling her eyes at the honesty. It wasn’t like you could be anything else. You couldn’t—wouldn’t—lie or lead someone on if the intentions weren’t the same. She pulled Ryujin to continue walking while Yeji shot you another sympathetic smile, mouthing sorry before following after. 

It left you alone, frozen, at these feelings you inadvertently developed. It was naive to think otherwise since you spent a lot of time with her these days, especially intimately. It hit you like a brick wall, crashing down on you as you couldn’t fathom the idea that she felt the same. 

You couldn’t dwell on it too much—not the time nor place—because Ryujin’s voice called your name, that soft, affectionate way she did when you laid underneath the covers, wrapped around each other. You looked up, seeing her eyebrows furrowed. You gave a lazy smile, though she didn’t look like she believed you. 

You weren’t even sure you believed yourself. 

-- 

“What’s wrong?” Ryujin asked quietly as she pulled away, seated on your lap with your back pressed against the headboard. 

“Nothing.” You averted your eyes to anywhere else, but it was hard with her in front of you. You felt her gaze, but avoided it. The floor seemed a lot more interesting anyways. 

“Was it because of what Yuna said?” She didn’t believe it was nothing. “Don’t take her seriously. She’s just nosey, always in my business about who I’m dating or not.” 

You hated yourself for the next words that came out, “But are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Dating anyone,” You mumbled, briefly meeting her eyes. 

“I mean no?” That answer did nothing but grow the black hole in your stomach. “Not officially at least. A few dates here and there, but nothing that I see serious.”

You appreciated her honesty. She seemed so casual about it—sleeping with you while going on dates. The situation itself was a conundrum because what did that mean for you? Were you just someone she slept with? Were you keeping her away from finding the one? Were you more than just a fuck? 

You had to know, “So who am I then?” 

Ryujin tilted her head, curiously staring at your face. You felt vulnerable, unsure of what your expression portrayed, because you were sure she figured it out. 

“What do you mean?” She said it slowly, carefully, as if whatever you say next could alter the course of your relationship. 

You couldn’t believe you had to spell it out for her. “Like, what does that mean? You go off on dates with all these guys, yet you come to me after? Am I just a fuck?” It borderlined on desperation, the words falling out. “Am I someone you want to date?” 

You watched as she swung her leg over, moving to sit next to you. You shook your head, already knowing where this conversation was going. 

“I like spending time with you.” 

“But being at the shop and then falling into bed with me, that’s how you spend time with me.” A pang shot through your chest. It ached enough for you to scratch over your shirt, self-soothing the pain to go away. “You don’t want to do anything else?” 

“Did you?” This whole answering a question with a question was about to push you off the edge. “I’m being serious. Did you? I came into this thinking you just wanted to get your dick wet since you had Rosie.” You heard the disdain at the mention of your previous lover. “I didn’t think you wanted more than that.” 

“I didn’t either,” You confessed, sighing dejectedly. “It’s crazy, and a fucking cliche of all things, to develop feelings like this. It’s okay. No hard feelings.” 

“Wait—” You didn’t want to hear anymore, so you stood up, reaching for the shirt that was thrown on the ground. Your heart dropped, aching, scratching at your rib cage as your chest tightened. You quickly slipped it on. “You like me?” 

You forced a smile, “I do, and it’s okay that you never thought of this like that. It is, it really is. I just don’t think I could keep doing it.” 

You gathered the rest of your things while Ryujin called out your name, telling you to don’t go. You were glad her apartment was vacant. With Lia visiting family in Canada, she offered her place since you spent most of the time at yours. 

You were halfway out the door when you turned around to Ryujin, still in the same position. It broke your heart to leave, but you had no other choice. 

Clean break right?

Should make things easier right? 

“You definitely don’t deserve to call yourself someone to just get my dick wet,” The vulgarity had you grimacing, “Because I never thought of you as that. Not in the slightest.” 

You left before Ryujin could respond, the steps heavier the closer you get to the front door. It went from zero to sixty, and it gnawed at you to stay. 

That simple right? 

You ate your earlier words because this was not a clean break. This did not make things easier. This was complicated in all the worst ways. 

-- -- -- 

You send a message to your cousin, thanking him for his quick response on letting you stay with him in the states for a couple months. Lisa appears with Jennie in tow and drinks in hand as the party’s in full swing. 

“Who are you texting?” Lisa asks, placing your drink on the table as they take their seats across from you. 

“My cousin,” You answer, distracted with the flurry of messages he sends. He’s excited because he’ll finally have someone to go out with, needing a wingman since his friends were—in his words—boring. 

“I still can’t believe you’re going to be gone for almost a year,” Lisa takes a sip from her glass. “How’d Ryuseong take it?” 

Your mentor took the news as better than you hoped. He was surprised, but expected it. You couldn’t help but think he knew that you had been sleeping with his sister for the past few months. He wouldn’t say anything when she was around you, but he’d raise an eyebrow whenever she got a little closer than friendly. 

You hastily decided a couple days after ‘ending’ your arrangement with Ryujin that you’d travel a bit while tattooing at places that would take you. A couple cities in the states were planned along with Tokyo and Melbourne. You were still waiting to hear back from your friend in London while close to finalizing spending a month or so in Paris. 

It would be good for you, as Ryuseong said once you told him your plans. He even helped put you in contact with some of his connections to let you work with them for a nominal fee. He reassured you that you’d always have a place to work whenever you were in the country, half-joking that you’d be managing the shops when you returned for good. 

“Good. He’s happy for me, I think,” You scratch your head. “Bummed that I won’t be around, but he gets it. He suggested doing this a while ago.” 

“But why now?” Jennie asks curiously. Her girlfriend gently elbows her, shooting her a warning look. “What? I don’t know enough about his life.” 

“It’s fine,” You wave Lisa off. “Just some things happened that made me rethink what I want.” 

Jennie glances behind you, “Like with a girl?” You’re about to turn around when her hand reaches out, shaking her head, “Just an observation because there’s been a girl looking at you since you got here.” 

“It’s complicated,” You mumble, fingers curling around the glass. 

“Well,” Jennie smirks, “It’s about to get more complicated.” 

“What do you—” The question dies on your lips before Jennie stands abruptly, squealing at whoever just appeared. 

“Chaeng!”

Oh.

Here we fucking go. 

-- 

You push the door open, breathing in the fresh air since the venue was suffocating with the amount of people that showed up. It was a bigger turnout than you expected, but Ryuseong knew a lot of people. 

You pat your pockets as you search for the cigarette package. You relapsed into the original vice since Ryujin was no longer in the picture. You excused yourself from the debate Rosie and Lisa were having over the best restaurant for tteokbokki takeaway, earning a glare from the latter because she wanted you to quit, but oh well. 

You pull the lighter out, sticking the cigarette in between your lips. There isn’t much foot traffic so you opt for a short walk to the alley around the corner. 

You inhale, catching the flame as the nicotine rush flows through your veins. You’ve been drinking, so it’s definitely a nice sensation, leaving you lightheaded as you gain your footing. 

Ryuseong gave a small speech, thanking everyone for showing up and their support over the years. He even announced your small departure, wishing you good luck that garnered a small applause from the crowd. You politely bowed, waving to those nearby, while Lisa ruffled your hair. 

It has overall been a nice night. 

You have no complaints. You have a couple days left in Seoul, and this is probably the last time you’ll see most of your friends. Lisa tentatively—forcefully—planned a dinner that you had no choice to go to. Rosie gave you a playful smile when she saw you, even kissing you briefly on the cheek. You were alone with her for a moment while the couple went to get more drinks, and she teased you for ghosting her, but ultimately understood once you explained the situation. 

“Water under the bridge, yeah?” Rosie smiled behind her martini glass, “No worries. We’re fine.” 

Though, when you told her that things ended, she rolled her eyes. “She has to have some feelings for you, and maybe she’s too naive to realize it, but I don’t know of any girl that has ever went out on dates and then fucked the same guy after them for there to be no feelings.” 

You didn’t want to comment on that, but Rosie asked if the girl was here. She was always perceptive, sensing your hesitation before answering. She dramatically rolled her eyes again at the exact moment Lisa and Jennie returned. They asked what you were talking about, and Lisa stupidly said it was Ryujin. 

“She looks like she wants to rip my head off,” Rosie chuckled, tilting her head in what you assumed was Ryujin’s general location. “If you want to have fun tonight, let me know. It could be one last hurrah before you leave.” 

You smile to yourself as you take another drag, thinking about Rosie’s proposal. You didn’t have anything to lose, so you are highly considering it. You always had fun with her, so why not? There’s nothing holding you back. 

At least, that is, until you hear a heated conversation a few meters down the alley. 

Naturally, you look up. 

You hadn’t actually crossed paths with Ryujin this whole evening. Whether it was her avoiding you or you subconsciously steering clear, you only saw her from afar. 

You would be able to recognize her a mile away and here she is with some boy in her face, towering over her. You let out a sigh, shaking your head. You don’t need to get involved because Ryujin has always been capable of taking care of herself. Though for your peace of mind, you walk closer to where they are. 

“Is everything alright?” Your voice breaks whatever tension as his head snaps in your direction, letting the cigarette rest in between your lips.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” He answers, pulling back slightly as his other hand drops. The question wasn’t directed towards him as you watch Ryujin stand up straight. She doesn’t say anything, which she doesn’t need to. “Let’s go Ryujin.” 

As Ryujin starts to walk toward you, the boy grabs her wrist, jerking her body backwards. You wait again, watching it unfold before you have to step in. Because you will, something Ryujin is very aware of. 

“Let go,” She says quietly, warningly, more for the boy’s sake. He doesn’t, stupidly, as his grip tightens, causing her to wince. “Ow, you’re hurting me.” 

Within seconds, you’re in between them, hand chopping through as you stand in front of Ryujin. 

“She said let go.” You say quietly, calm and composed. 

“Who the hell are you?” The boy spits back, stepping into your space, even bumping his shoulder against your chest. 

“Haein,” Ryujin hisses, hoping he gets the message. She knows your temper, and she knows how protective you are, especially when it involves her. “Just let go.” 

This must be the boy Yuna was going on about that night. Interesting. He didn’t seem like Ryujin’s type, but what did you know when it came to her ‘type.’ 

“Seriously, listen to her,” The cigarette falls to the ground. 

“I’m not going to take orders from some stranger,” Haein says sharply, yanking Ryujin forward. He must have no spatial awareness because you’re still in between them and the small yelp she lets out has you reaching for his arm. “What the—”

Your other hand swings clear across his face as he collapses to the ground. You might’ve heard the sound of bone cracking, but you didn’t care. “Told you,” You mutter, tapping his stomach with your foot as he flinches. 

“Oppa,” Ryujin sighs, shaking her head. “I can take care of myself.” 

You barely hear her, crouching down to his level, “For what it’s worth, every time she went out with you, she spent the night with me.” You’re still drunk, and the words come out without much thought. It’s rubbing salt in the wound, but at this rate, you don’t care.

“Oppa!” Ryujin grabs you by your jacket collar, pulling you up with enough force that you stumble, “What the fuck?” 

You shake her off, straightening your clothes out, “What? Is it not true? You’re welcome by the way,” You turn to walk away, but her hand encloses over your wrist. “Ryujin,” You deadpan when you face her. 

“You’re such a fucking ass,” Ryujin steps closer, her body pressed against yours. “Why would you even say that?” She gestures to Haein, who’s still on the ground, groaning in pain. 

“For fun,” You reply sarcastically, smirking as you shake her hand off. “Have a great night.” 

This time, Ryujin lets you go. You’re pissed off, and it’s a recipe for disaster if you stay any longer. Things are still fresh. You’re nursing a heartache and leaving in less than 48 hours, so probably in both your best interests, it’s not worth it to fight or argue or get into things. 

Ryujin did not share that same thought process because you feel two smaller hands on your back, pushing you off balance. Your reflexes are impaired, but you’re fast enough to catch yourself from falling flat on your face. 

“Ryujin, what the fuck,” You had never turned around so fast. Your relationship, or whatever the fuck it was, had never been physical, explosive, and the ironic part was that this turned you on. “What’s your problem?” You growl, eyes narrowing.

She never backed down from a challenge, hearing the countless, mindless arguments she would have with her friends over game rules and the sarcastic remarks she’d throw at Ryuseong whenever he did something. 

You get pushed again, but it doesn’t do much. You remain stable, unmoving as the two hands on your chest curl into fists, her head dropping. 

“You don’t get to fucking,” Hands hitting hard into your chest after each word, “Throw what we did together in someone else’s face.” The power of the punches weakens at the end. She almost seems defeated. 

“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, “And what did we do, Jin-yah? We fucked more than enough times, but that’s all it was, right?” You’re being petty, borderline spiteful, with the venom you were spewing out. 

It’s not a surprise when Ryujin’s hand comes clear across your face because it was very much deserved, but that doesn't mean it didn’t hurt. Your cheek stung from the force, eyes snapping to her heated glare. 

“Fuck you.”

“Time and place, jagiya.” You’re definitely an asshole for using the name you’d call her when it was just you two, a name she’d shyly blush to. “I’m leaving in a couple days, so why not send me off with a bang?” 

It’s a taunt, a fib, a put your money where your mouth is kind of situation. You might be riled up, the slightest bit horny too, but you don’t think she’ll actually go through it.

If it wasn’t dark in the alley, you would’ve seen the wheels turning, the pros and cons weighing in her mind, seriously considering it. You could’ve put a stop to it right then and there, walking away from the argument, walking away from her until whenever you’d see her next. 

But you were drunk, too eager to be in her presence, too starved that you’d let her abuse you just to feel her touch, that you missed all of that completely. 

Ryujin calls your bluff, “Fine. I live nearby, and Lia’s sleeping over Yeji’s tonight.” 

What?

You watch her face form into a cheshire grin. You could only imagine the expression you have because she leans away, stepping out of the space, tilting her head. 

“Come on, yeobo.” Ryujin tosses the name she used for you, “I’ll make it worth your while,” She takes a slow step backwards, running a hand through her hair. 

You gulp, nodding like the fool that you were whenever it came to Ryujin. She could easily control you, and you knew that. Call it being a pushover, but you had a soft spot for her. A part that was an advantage to you both, especially when it came to matters of intimacy. 

You start to walk, hands reaching for her when you get closer. You wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her body in. Your face nuzzles into her hair, whispering, “Are you sure?” 

Ryujin chuckles before answering yes because she explicitly states she needs to fuck the frustration you’ve caused her in the past ten minutes. 

“Let’s go,” She stands on her tippy toes, lips brushing against your jaw. 

Your cheeks heat up at the contact, a small smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. 

-- 

Ryujin’s apartment was generally off limits, coming over less than a handful of times. Lia tended to stay home so coming over wasn’t an option, especially with how loud you both would get. It was more of a respect thing. Maybe a privacy thing too, but that was between you and Ryujin. 

You couldn’t look around too much because Ryujin was on you once the door shut. She (literally) jumped on you, wrapping her legs around your waist, mouth landing perfectly on yours as she kissed you with a fervor you never experienced. It caught you off guard, knocking you off balance that you had to steady yourself against the wall. Something might have fallen off the entryway table, but neither of you paid attention to it as she shrugged your jacket off. 

Leading you to your knees digging into the hardwood with your head in between her legs. You don’t know how long it’s been, but your tongue has been moving which way and every way thoroughly between her lower lips without any release. She’s getting impatient, based on the way her hips jolt with your nose brushing against her clit. 

“Answer the question,” You murmur against her pussy, chin slick with wetness as you stare up at her. With her head thrown back, she doesn’t see you prompting you to continue with your task. 

You’re being mean, not letting her cum until she answers a curious question. Though, she’s not being forthcoming either on giving an answer so it seems fair to put her through tortuous strokes of your tongue. 

“What fucking question?” Ryujin snaps, hips rolling forward as you pull away. “Get back there.” 

“You know,” You blow gently at her clit as her body shivers, hands bunching the bedsheet, “If you slept with what’s his face.” 

“None of your fucking business,” She says weakly as you stick your tongue in between her folds. “Why do you care if I did?” She manages to get out, panting as you gently bite an outer lip. 

“Just wanted to know if he was able to make you this wet,” You answer simply, tongue trailing lower to an untouched area—at least by you specifically.

“What’re you even—oh!” Ryujin gasps once your tongue invades the puckered hole, tensing as you dip in. “I’ve never—fuck.” 

You lean back, and you’re met with a heated gaze from the woman sprawled out on her bed. You smirk, even licking your lips as she extends a leg to put you back where you belong. 

“God can you just fuck me already?” Ryujin snaps, eyes glaring as you don’t budge. 

“Answer the fucking question,” You say while unbuckling your belt. You spring out of your pants, immediately seeing the tent formed from your boxer briefs. 

“No he didn’t make me this wet,” Her hands reach for the waistband, shoving your underwear down. You let out a groan, hips moving forward, as her fingers wrap around your cock. “He made me cum though.” 

You roll your eyes, withdrawing yourself away from Ryujin. She lets out a small whine. “Go fuck him then.” 

It’s an empty threat. A bluff. You and her know that at the end of the night it’ll be you doing all the things he did and more. You want her, and well, she wants you. That hasn’t changed even if it has been a few weeks. There hasn’t been anyone since either on your end. Sure you could say you were jealous, but she’s with you right now. 

Not him. 

There’s a sick part of you that wants to make her work for it, but you’re impatient, eager, to remind her of the time spent together. This could very much be the last time, which tugs at your heart, but you might as well make it worth it. 

You’re about to lose your mind anyways. 

Though, Ryujin seems like she’s just about there since you’d be teasing her for a while, edging her to the breaking point that she automatically turns over on her stomach, raising her hips that has your mouth watering. 

“Baby,” She shakes her hips side-to-side, arching her back as she presents herself more, “You know he could never fuck me the way you do.” 

Without thinking, you swat your hand down, an easy flick of the wrist, palm connecting to skin that resulted in a resonating sound through the room. Ryujin moans, hips rolling backward as you withdraw your arm. 

“How do I know that?” You ask absentmindedly, watching as she attempts to grind herself on you. You rest your hand on her lower back, halting any movement. Bending forward as your other hand pushes your pants to drop around your ankles, you get close enough that her head drops back. “Prove it,” You murmur, gently nipping at her ear. 

Ryujin’s hand snakes between your bodies, and when her fingers wrap around you once again, you don’t fight it. She guides your length to her entrance. Your body shivers once the tip makes contact, magnifying how wet she is. 

“You’re dripping,” You grunt, mesmerized by the way she slides your cock in between her folds. 

“For you,” Ryujin moans when she slides backwards to take you in, “Only for you.” 

You’re moaning with her, watching, feeling the initial tightness engulf part of your cock. It’s a sensory overload that your hips slightly thrust to get deeper. It’s a lot to take in after not being with her like this. 

And fuck you missed her. 

You tell her so, head falling backwards as she continues to take you in. She sucks in a breath at the confession. Your hands find her hips, gripping tightly as you pull her along your cock. She’s practically keening at the stretch while you’re holding everything in to not thrust all the way in. 

“Ryujin, slow down,” You say through gritted teeth, air leaving your lungs as she takes you without giving you a moment to breathe. “Baby.”

“Please,” Ryujin begs, shaking her hips as you feel yourself sink deeper into her. “Fuck me, I missed you.” 

It’s all too overwhelming. The reciprocated confession. The warmth of her pussy wrapped around you has you seeing stars. Adding on how tight and wet she is, you’re about to bust. 

“Tell me again,” You slowly withdraw your hips, peeking at how soaked you are, her slick dripping down your thighs. 

“I missed you.” 

And you thrust back in, earning a filthy moan escaping her lips. Whatever sense of control you had snapped, the want—the sudden need—to make up for lost time. 

You choose long and deep strokes, ensuring you’re hitting every single nerve inside her body. You keep a steady tempo, letting the moans and pants that fall from her guide you. You can’t help but sound off with her, groaning and grunting as she moves with you. 

It’s an easy rhythm to fall back into, especially with how familiar you are with her body. You know every spot, inside and out, that could have her lose her mind. 

“Baby, you feel so fucking good,” Ryujin lulls her head back, resting against your shoulder. 

The change in position has your lips against her ear, teeth biting and nearly snarling as you keep the consistent pace. The sound of your skin clapping echoes throughout her room that you pray there’s some kind of proofing. At least to muffle her voice because your ears are ringing. 

You can’t help the words that come out of your mouth, so swept up in the moment, so swept up in her, that you tell her how much you’ve missed feeling her pussy around you, how she’s taking you so well, how she’s going to make you release if she kept squeezing your cock like a vice. 

“Do it.”

That wasn’t the response you expected. 

Not by a long shot. 

Every time you and Ryujin had sex, you’d ask where she wanted it. Half the time, it would be in her mouth. The other half would be over her body because she thought it was hot, and well, you agreed. You entertained the idea of marking her as yours, but there was one way you hadn’t. 

You’ve come inside women before. It was usually your long-term girlfriends, and that one-off who swore they were safe. No child has appeared at your door yet, so there’s that. With Ryujin, you never asked—it wasn’t your place to. You wouldn’t assume so because you weren’t dating. There was that possessive side of you that wanted to, but you were being selfish. 

So this was new. 

“Wh-what?” You stutter, hips ceasing all movement. Ryujin doesn’t like that, whining, squirming with your cock inside her. She gasps as you hit spots you hadn’t before. There’s a delicious friction of her walls hugging, pulsing, around you. “Jin-yah, whoa, slow down. I’m going to cum if you keep moving like that.” 

“Isn’t that the point?” Ryujin moans loudly at one particular spot. Her body moves on its own accord for your cock to keep brushing against it. 

“No.” You’re trying to say something, but Ryujin feels so good that you resume your movement, meeting her in perfect sync. Her hips snap downward, adding a motion you aren’t expecting, and it has you seeing stars when her clit brushes against you. The coil tightens in your lower abdomen, a tell-tale sign that you’re really close. “Jagiya,” You hardly recognize your own voice. “I don’t know if–fuck,” She does a nasty move that sucks the breath from your lungs, “Where do you want it?” 

You wanted to hear it again. You needed to hear it again, to make sure you weren’t imagining it. 

“Inside,” Ryujin commands through a moan, as you continue to pound into her. Her breathing staccatos with each thrust as she repeated the word over and over, begging you because she wants the feeling of you painting her walls. After one particularly hard thrust, her body violently shakes, convulsing as her orgasm washes over, pussy pulsating and tightening over your cock like never before, that a sentence slips from her mouth, “Be the first to cum inside me.” 

Ryujin hits the nail on the coffin as you lose control over your body, hips jackhammering into her as the coil in your stomach snaps, back seizing erratically as hot, thick white ropes flood her without warning. 

“Oh, oh that feels–fuck.” Ryujin’s too cockdrunk to finish a sentence, and you’re too pussydrunk to even hear her. You don’t know what’s going on down there, but you swear her pussy’s milking you for all you have, walls massaging your cock that you fall forward, taking her with you. You snap your hips one, two, three, four times, before another orgasm releases into her. 

“Mine,” You snarl into her ear, lightly humping into her to make sure every part of her is filled. You repeat the word like a mantra and she nods, mumbling a blissed out yours. 

The climax eventually subsides, but your positions haven’t changed. You gently grind, garnering soft, weak moans from the woman beneath you. You don’t want to pull out, but the overstimulation is creeping in. Reluctantly, you do so, slowly withdrawing your cock to not hurt her. You grin at the small whine she lets out, but you soothe her with a kiss behind the ear. 

You push yourself up to inspect the mess you made, and your cock twitches at the white liquid dripping from her folds. You stare for a second too long because an airy chuckle sounds off before Ryujin’s small fingers slide underneath, slipping in between the lower lips, pushing what’s fallen out back in. 

“Baby.” It comes out as a warning, a borderline plea, that she stops, giggling that dispels the wave of lust from taking over. You roll your eyes, rolling off her body and laying next to her. 

Ryujin turns to face you, slotting a leg in between yours, as she scoots closer. You take her hands in yours, bringing them to your chest. She speaks first, “That was…an experience.” 

“A good one?” You ask softly, eyes meeting hers. 

“Definitely.” Ryujin sighs dreamily, eyes closing before she drops her head slightly. 

“Am I really the only person to ever do that?” You watch her eyes open again, an indiscernible look that drops before you realize the answer. 

Ryujin nods shyly, biting her lip, “We’re safe, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You shake your head, slightly offended that’s what she first assumed. She must’ve seen your expression change. “Did you not want to?” 

You shake your head again. “No, I did,” Sighing, “It’s just we’ve never done that. And you’ve never done that. I don’t want to take something like that from you. It’s…intimate.” That’s the only word that comes to mind. 

“Who said I didn’t want that with you?” 

“Well, we aren’t a couple,” You mumble before glancing away. Pushing on with a little more confidence, “You made it clear we weren’t.” It sounded pathetic. 

“Did you want to be?” Her questions are starting to kill your mood. You let go of her hands, sitting up abruptly. “Stop,” Her hand encloses around your wrist, tugging you back before you could leave (again.) “I’m being serious. I was serious.” 

“Ryujin,” You deadpan, head falling on the pillow as you stare at the ceiling. “Yes, I did. I still do,” You cover your face in embarrassment.

“Can you look at me?” Ryujin tries to remove your arms so she could see your face. She’s successful in that aspect, but you turn away. “You’re acting like a child.” 

“So,” You pout, avoiding her gaze. 

“You’re a dumb dumb,” Ryujin says fondly, leaning over to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. “I wasn’t sure if you meant it. I didn’t want to get my hopes up.” 

You ask for clarification because ‘hopes up’ for what exactly. Ryujin looks away this time, taking a breath before telling you she’s always had a crush on you. She explains it likely developed within the first year of meeting you. Ryuseong had noticed, teasing her at home because that’s what older brothers do. She vehemently denied any feelings, but when you brought Nayeon around, she realized it wasn’t a crush. 

“You’re older than me, and at that point, I didn’t know how to get you to see me more than Ryuseong’s little sister.” You hear the bitterness in her voice. 

“You’ve always been Ryujin to me,” You reassure sweetly, sliding your arm under to pull her into you. You peck the side of her head. “You know I’ve always looked out for you.”

“But I wanted you to look at me. The way you looked at Nayeon-unnie,” Ryujin buries her face into the crook of your neck, breath hot against your skin. 

“I’ve been for the past few months,” You whisper, tilting her head gently with two fingers on her chin. Bringing your lips down to hers, mumbling I mean it. 

“You’re leaving.” She pulls away, flicking your nose. 

“For almost a year.”

“Admit it’s because of me.”

“It’s because of you.” You comply because she’s most of the reason why in the first place. 

“I’m claiming you as mine.”

“We haven’t even been on a date yet.” 

“Then when you get back, you take me out on a date.”

“Isn’t that a little backwards to go on a date after having sex?” 

“You came inside me.” 

“I’ve never been conventional,” You sweep her body underneath yours, her legs easily spreading. 

“I feel it leaking,” Ryujin murmurs as she tilts her head back. 

“That’s hot,” Your voice shakes at the memory of cumming inside of her a few minutes ago, body reacting tenfold that you’re ready to go again. “Can I do it again?” 

“Because I’m yours?” Her tongue slips in between your lips, swallowing the moan. 

“Mine.” 

-- -- 

After eleven months, you’re finally back in Seoul. 

A lot happened that you were grateful for the experience. You met a lot of people while most importantly, perfecting your craft. You weren’t expecting to make a lot, but you made more than enough to book an earlier flight. 

You planned to return at the end of February, but you wanted to surprise Ryujin for her graduation. She was disappointed you wouldn’t be there, but was excited for your arrival. Little did she know, you’d be meeting her right after the ceremony. Thanks to the help from Yeji and Lia. 

You and Ryujin agreed you liked each other, wanting to be a couple, but kept things open since you would be thousands of miles away. You couldn’t expect her to put her life on hold for you, nor did she want you to do that either. She gave you clear instructions to do whatever you wanted with whoever you wanted as long as you told her about it. 

Well, nothing happened with anyone. Sure, you went out with people and there was some interest from women—even men, but you felt too strongly for Ryujin to give them any attention. You were loyal to a fault, and no one could change your mind. There were some that definitely tried. 

You had just enough time to drop off your luggage at your parents’ house, greeting them quickly before your mother could yell at you for looking too thin. Ryuseong texted you where they’d be and that they’d save you a seat. 

You’re slightly late. 

You didn’t want to show up with a motorcycle helmet, so you opted for public transportation. You didn’t account for the train delay, which gave you little time to mingle once you met with Ryuseong and the parents. 

“Hi,” You politely bow, feet shuffling over the other attendees as you plop yourself on the empty seat next to Ryuseong. “Sorry I’m late. I didn’t want to take my bike.” 

Ryuseong chuckles, shaking his head as he dismisses your apology. He mentions that he’s glad you’re back before the lights dim. You couldn’t exactly get into things, but you would later on. 

The ceremony goes off without a hitch. It was quicker than you expected. Ryuseong pointed in the general direction of where Ryujin was, but you were far from her to really see her. She might’ve turned in your area a few times throughout, but you couldn’t be sure she saw you.

You hoped she didn’t. You still wanted to surprise her. 

Before you know it, it’s finished and you’re following Ryuseong out of the row to meet Ryujin. He jerks his elbow in your side as you walk, head tilting to the group of girls by you. You glance at them, which they quickly look away, one even giggles at the other. 

“Dude stop,” You mutter, rolling your eyes. “I’m not interested.”

“Just making you aware,” Ryuseong comments, “Ryujin’s not going to like the attention you’re getting.” You do a once over of your outfit choice, and there’s nothing that really calls for the attention of others. A black blazer, black shirt, and black slacks—it wasn’t anything outrageous. “You’re a chump.” He jokes, then starts to laugh when he sees you pout. 

You’re about to say something sarcastic when you’re nearly tackled by someone from the side. There’s a familiar airy giggle that has you roll your eyes again. 

“Oppa!” Yuna’s voice rings through your ears as you keep your balance. “Unnie didn’t say you were going to be here.” 

“Yuna,” You say flatly, untangling her limbs off your body. She huffs, crossing her arms as two other familiar faces appear. “Hi Yeji, Lia,” You bow, earning a smile. 

You fall into an easy conversation, telling them a bit about your time away with the promise of more details later over dinner. There was a lot to catch up on, and you didn’t want to take the limelight away from Ryujin. 

You don’t know how much time goes by, but there’s a tap on your shoulder that has you turning around. 

Your heart nearly stops. 

Ryujin still is as beautiful as you remember, if not more. 

You exchanged hundreds of messages with photos, and some videos that were for your eyes only. So seeing her for the first time in almost a year has you swooning. 

“Why are you dressed like that?” Ryujin questions, gaze going up and down before meeting yours.

“Uh? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” The self-consciousness was creeping in. 

“Well,” She crosses her arms over her chest, “For one, you look like an actor, or an idol.” 

(Her friends nod in agreement in your periphery.) 

“I can’t stop that? This is how I look.” 

“And two, all the girls within a ten meter radius are staring at you,” She raises an eyebrow, “Are you trying to make me jealous?” 

You can’t help the corner of your lips from curling up. Not even a hello, but you didn’t mind it. She was jealous, and you felt like feeding the fire. You’ll beg for forgiveness later. 

“Is it working?” You grin as she scoffs. “Congratulations by the way.”

And just like that, the facade breaks.

Ryujin wraps her arms around you, instinctively pulling you into her. You almost hesitate because her parents are right behind her, but you don’t care. 

You missed her. 

“You’re going to regret that,” Ryujin mumbles against your chest. 

You kiss her sweetly on the top of her head, smiling, “Worth it.”

“I want to do something once we’re done with my family,” Ryujin says suddenly, head tilting up with a mirthful gleam in her eyes. 

“What?” You wanted to kiss her, but you had to draw the line somewhere with physical displays of affection with the current audience. 

“Can you give me a tattoo?” 

“Uh?” You raise an eyebrow. She hadn’t mentioned a tattoo in months, and you completely forgot she wanted one. 

“Somewhere hidden, like where only a certain someone could see.” 

“Oh? Like where?” You grin, eyes trailing down her body. 

“Maybe my hip?” Ryujin offers and the idea of her body permanently marked by you sends your mind in a tailspin. She stands on her tiptoes, lips grazing your ear, before whispering, “As a reminder.” 

“For…?” You trail off, gulping as a slim finger traces down your chest. 

“When you fuck me,” Tactfully adding, “I’m still yours.” 

Oh.

-- -- -- 

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter eight of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

The song they dance to is "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" by Russ Columbo and this should take you to the song. It's the song I named the series for, because I believe it encompasses how both the reader feels, but also how Soldier Boy will feel in a few chapters. I also believe that the song House of Memories by Panic at the Disco, fits the more modern parts of the series.

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Philadelphia 1938

The lights twinkled along the ceiling of the dance hall as the gentle swell of jazz floated through the air. Couples swayed on the dance floor clinging to one another as the soft tones of the music soothed the dull throb of the whispers of rising tension overseas. It was a Saturday night, and you and a few of your friends from the Dawson School for Girls had slipped away to spend the evening twirling in the arms of whomever caught your fancy.

Well, at least that's what your friends wanted to do. There was only one particular man who'd caught your fancy, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The Dawson School for Girls was the answer to your mother's prayers, a boarding school in Boston, far away from Ben's "corruptive influence" as she put it. Ben was currently at boarding school number ten in Upstate New York. The last time you’d seen him was when you were on break and Ben had just left boarding school number nine for fighting with other students, but he wouldn't say what for. You’d sent him a few letters to tell him how bored you were including a few sketches and watercolor paintings, with minimal response, but it was like him not to write back.

You hadn't mentioned that Howard Stine had been coming on the weekends to take you out. Your mother was pleased with him, he checked all the boxes: wealthy, not Ben, educated, not Ben, from a nice family, not Ben, and of course most importantly, not Ben.

She was practically making wedding invitations and choosing the names of your children after only three months. However, it was nice to see her happy for a change, kept her from sniping at your figure now that someone was interested. Well, not sniping that much.

Howard was… nice, but he was one of the most boring people you'd ever met and he never understood why you always carried a sketchbook with you. When he'd taken you to Franklin Park one weekend, you stopped along the pond to sketch some of the ducks that were waddling on the bank, but Howard told you he didn’t have time to wait for you to draw them. Instead of telling him that he could just leave, you shut the sketchpad and continued to walk with him and quickly learned that it was better to leave your sketchpad at the dorm whenever he was in town. You also found yourself talking less and less, allowing him to fill the silence with his talk of the stock market crash and how the United States economy recovered due to the efforts of President FDR.

You hated that. You didn't recognize yourself when you were with him. You didn't feel like you.

And every time he was here all you could do was compare him to Ben. Ben would never tell you to stop drawing, yes he would tease you about it, but he always sat next to you while you were sketching, watching you work. You never understood that. Ben was so impatient with everyone else, but he was willing to sit with you for any inordinate amount of time if you were drawing while making you laugh the whole time.

I miss him so much.

"Can I get you a drink?" Howard puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning in to whisper in your ear. You try not to flinch at his touch. He had already been in town, walking you home from a dinner that was dominated by awkward silence and the clicking of utensils on plates when you'd run into your friends just as he was walking you back to the dorm. They had rounded the corner giggling and begging you to come with them. Despite your insistences for him to stay in and relax for the night at his hotel, he refused.

It meant that now you were stuck with him while all your friends got to twirl around with men that made them warm and giddy. Howard made you feel like you'd swallowed a lemon.

"I'm fine, but thank you." You force a smile.

Howard shrugs, before he walks away towards the crowded bar on the other side of the room and blessedly far away from you.

Your thoughts drifted to Ben. You missed your friend more than words could comprehend. Not just because you were far from your family in another city, but because it felt like you were missing apart of yourself when he wasn't there. You briefly wonder if he felt the same way when he wasn't with you.

Probably not.

You turn away from Howard's retreating figure, to watch the couples on the dance floor. You sway to the music, holding your arms around yourself and feeling your dark green dress swish around your ankles, one that you'd picked out yourself, not a monstrosity of pink tulle, but something that you believed accentuated the natural curves of your body that your mother used other dresses to hide. Your mouth turns down into a frown remembering how Howard had reacted to seeing you in it, when he tried to give you his jacket to cover up, but you refused.

You had wanted him to be stunned by how you looked in it, or at least, wanted someone to be. The same someone that was miles away and probably tickling the skirt of someone who caught his fancy.

"One of the most attractive men I've ever seen in my life is at the bar." Your friend Pearl stated looking behind you with wide eyes.

I've got you beat. You think to yourself to a sigh, wishing, again, that you were here with Ben instead of Howard.

"Very funny." You roll your eyes, thinking that she’s making fun of where Howard is sitting probably flagging down the bartender with both hands to catch his attention.

"I'm not talking about Howard. This guy is seriously a looker. And he's staring at you." Pearl says again.

"Sure." You continue to watch an elderly couple sway back and forth to the smooth jazz that ebbs from the band on stage.

Must be nice to be with someone for that long.

You watch how effortlessly the couple moves as one, how the man stares down at the woman with more love than you can comprehend. It makes your heart sink in your chest.

The way things were panning out, you were going to end up with Howard and you couldn't imagine looking at anyone like that other than Ben.

"You're about to see, because he's coming this way." Pearl takes a step back from you as if anticipating the stranger interrupting your conversation.

"He's not-" You begin to say, but you feel someone place their hand on the small of your back, turning you towards them.

"Fancy meeting you here." Ben smiles down at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"Ben!" Your heart soars when you recognize your friend and you can't help but hug him so tight he laughs, the movement of his chuckle makes you feel alive for the first time in weeks. The sharp smell of whiskey and the familiar spicy scent of his cologne greets you.

"Guess you missed me." The rumble of his voice vibrates where your cheek rests against his chest.

"I did." You pull away from him reluctantly. "What are you doing here?" You can't help but smile at him, probably wider than what was attractive.

"Thought I'd stop by and visit on my way back to Philadelphia. Saw you walk into this place. " Ben shrugs. "What are you doing out so late?"

"Looking for trouble." You smirk.

"You found him sweetheart." Ben leans down towards you making your throat get unusually tight.

"Hi." Pearl says interrupting the conversation.

 Ben turns his smug smile on her. "Hi."

"I'm Pearl." She looks from you to Ben as if trying to decide that it's okay for her to introduce yourself.

"Benjamin." You watch him slip into the cool and smooth Ben, the one that charmed whomever caught his eye.

You can't help but feel a prick of jealousy against your skin. It was familiar, but every time it happened, it didn't make any of this easier. You knew that you shouldn't be jealous, you didn't have a claim on him, you were friends, just friends, only friends, best friends…

And now you were with Howard.

You let out a soft sigh watching the way that Pearl looks up at Ben and the way he leans towards her with the confident smirk you love so much on his face.

"Would you like to dance Benjamin?" She asks.

"I would." Ben's smirk turns into a smile.

Pearl steps forward to reach for his hand, expecting him to take it, but he doesnt.

"Come on sweetheart." Ben reaches out and takes your hand, twirling you ahead of him onto the dance floor.

"Ben-" You giggle, head spinning with the movement, but when he twirls you back into his chest, you feel your breath catch. This wasn't the first time you'd been pressed up against him and it wasn't the first time you recognized how perfectly you fit together. Your soft curves molding against the hardness of his muscles as you sway back and forth to the music. When you were pressed up against him, you didn't feel like you were too big, you felt perfect, because of the way you fit against him.

"You know I am here with someone-" You say, before you get too wrapped up in how good it feels to be with him.

"Yes. Howard Stine. Though I do believe you said he stepped on your toes." Ben smiles at you, eyes twinkling in the light.

"That was four years ago, and he's… sweet?"

"Hmph." Ben rolls his eyes. "You can't even say it with a straight face sweetheart."

"I have never said anything bad about your companions."

"Missy-"

"Besides her." You frown.

He laughs at your reaction, the hand clutched in your right seems to warm with his smile. "You've never said anything about them period."

Because I hate thinking about how many of them there have been. Because I hate that you don't see me as someone who could be with you.

"I try not to dwell on your numerous escapades."

"You sound a little jealous doll." He smirks at you.

"What was that you were saying about Howard again?" You tease, holding on to his shoulders as you sway back and forth to the music.

"Can't be jealous of someone I've seen get chased by a duck." Ben's eyes trace your body for a moment. Your cheeks blush under his gaze. "You look nice. Not one of your mom's I'm guessing?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You don't look like a cupcake." He spins you away one more time before bringing you back into his chest.

"No. I think she'd probably have an aneurysm if she saw me wearing this. Howard also thought it was a bit much-"

Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "What?"

You shrug, leveling your eyes on his chest to distract yourself from his hand placement. "He tried to get me to wear his coat."

"He what?"

You shake your head to dissipate the self-doubt and body-shaming conversation that was about to unfold in your head.

"It's nothing." You raise your gaze back to his, but you're surprised to see the anger that burns behind his green eyes.

"It's not nothing. He had no right to-"

"Ben." You soothe, rubbing your thumb over his shoulder to comfort him.

The song shifts to something softer, forlorn, a song that reminded you of the heartache you felt with Ben, but also a melody that eases your soul somehow.

"I don't understand why you're with him." Ben sighs, but you can still feel the tension in his shoulders beneath your hand.

"My mother is happy-"

"But you're not." The look in his eyes is unfamiliar, almost earnest, as if he's trying to get you to understand something that he can't say.

"Ben." You breathe.

"Fine. I don't want you to think about him when we're dancing to our song anyway." The look in his eyes shifts back to the playful green they'd been before.

"Our song?" The words make your heart skip a beat and you can't help but smile at him.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd smiled this much. Probably the last time I saw him.

"Yes." Ben dips you back, before bringing you up against him, the playful look in his eyes becoming softer as you come back.

You know that your own gaze is filled with love and you remember watching the elderly couple. The way they looked at one another warming your heart as you gaze up at Ben. The three little words tiptoe against your tongue, the three little words that you'd been trying to say forever, but you can't. You don't want to lose him, don't want to live in a world without him, because you know that it won't be worth living.

So instead you lean forward and lay your head against his chest, in the space between his neck and shoulder as the song continues. You think that you feel Ben's arms tighten around you, pulling you further into his embrace, but you chock that up to wishful thinking.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You hear someone yell, and all of a sudden someone's hand is on your wrist jerking you away from Ben.

What?

Howard is standing there his chest pushed against Ben’s, trying to look intimidating, but Howard's inability to reach Ben's shoulders made it difficult for him.

You rub your fingers over your wrist, where Howard’s bright red handprint stands out against your skin.

Ben’s eyes shift to notice your ministrations, darkening with the force of his anger at the thought that Howard hurt you.

“I think I was dancing with my girl.” Ben’s eyes narrow, skating back to Howard.

Your heart skips a beat when he says that, but you shake away the thought, knowing that Ben is only saying that to make Howard angry.

“Your girl?!” Howard sputters, his face growing red. “She’s not your girl!”

“Howie, buddy-“ Ben’s confident smirk slips over his features but you still see the anger beneath the surface. “Calm down, you’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

“Just because you think you have some claim on her because you’ve been stringing her along with the harem that usually follows you, does not make her your girl!” Howard fumes. “She’s with me.” Howard grabs your wrist again and drags you towards him.

“Hey wait a minute-“ You begin to say.

Ben grabs the front of Howard's tailored suit, rumpling the pristine fabric. “Don’t you dare touch her like that.”

“I will touch her however I damn well please! She's mine-"

The grip on your wrist is so tight that you know it’ll leave bruises. “Howard wait-“ You try again to diffuse the tension, bringing your free hand to rest on his forearm to make him let go.

“Shut up.” He snaps, eyes flashing back to you.

Ben’s temper flares and the sharp crack of his fist against Howard’s face echoes through the room. Howard stumbles away, letting go of your wrist as he reels backward to the welcoming hardwood floor that catches him when he falls.

“Don’t you ever speak to her that way you arrogant son of a bitch!” Ben shouts taking a step forward. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched at his sides and his jaw is tight, as his anger burns through the air.

By now the band has stopped playing music and all the couples around you are watching with wide eyes.

I have to do something before he kills him.

You put yourself between them, your hands firmly planted on Ben’s muscular chest so your back is to where Howard stands fuming. “Ben. Don’t.”

But he’s not looking at you, his gaze is locked with Howard’s, eyes blazing, muscles tensing beneath the palms of your hands. You try to ignore how good his chest feels beneath your touch.

Damn it.

“Ben.” You say his name again.

His eyes snap back to yours. The soft green has hardened to an emerald with the force of his rage, so different than how he looked when the two of you were dancing. But he doesn’t say anything.

“Please.” You whisper. "Stop."

Ben looks from you to Howard, before he finally exhales. “Fine.” He mutters, and he turns and vanishes into the crowd of people without another word.

A minute passes and the music begins all over again, the band on the stage starting with a lively tune that makes the couples around you to move back on to the dance floor, but the tension of what just happened remains in the air.

Because what did just happen? Did Ben do that because he was protective of me? Or did he do that because he was jealous?

Your eyes trace where he vanished, longing for him to come back, but when he doesn't appear, you're left to deal with the aftermath. 

After numerous apologies to Howard, he finally relented and took you back to your dorm, leaving your group of friends at the dance hall. You knew there would definitely be a conversation about what just happened between you all when they got back, but even you were confused. Ben was always protective of you, but what happened seemed over the top. You think about how Ben called you “my girl," the way he said it sending a thrill down your spine. He’d never done that before and you wondered if it was because he wanted to get a rise out of Howard or because he believed it.

Not like he’s tried to do anything about it. You think to yourself stroking one finger against your bruised wrist. The discoloration was more prominent now, black and blue marks beginning to sprout like flowers in spring. Howard’s eye didn’t look much better when he dropped you off. You were surprised that he’d been forgiving enough to continue to see you, not that you wanted to see him, but you didn't think you could handle a letter from your mother.

Then again maybe she would pull you out of this ridiculous school.

A small tap at your window causes you to raise your head to look out the glass. Ben is sitting there, but he doesn’t smile like he usually does. Your dorm room was on the first floor, which meant that Ben didn't need to shimmy up a tree to get into it like he did when you were home. Then again this was the first time he'd showed up here and you wondered how he knew where your room was. You also weren't thrilled at his appearance because you didn't know when Pearl would come back and you weren't sure what your roommate would do if she came back and found Ben in your room. She was a stickler for the rules and despite your friendship, rooming with her was one of your least favorite things about the Dawson School For Girls.

“If they find you here I’m going to be in so much trouble.” You say helping him through the small window, putting your hand on the back of his head so that he doesn't bang it against the glass. "You might like getting kicked out of boarding schools, but I don't."

“They won’t find out.” Ben rolls his eyes. He glances at Pearl’s empty bed on the other side of the room. “Roommate not back yet?”

“No she was still dancing when I left.”

Ben frowns. “Where’s the asshole?”

“Ben-“

“What?”

“He left. And I don't exactly invite him up to where I sleep."

“Good.” Ben flexes his fist.

“How did you know which room was mine?” You ask. Ben had never come to see you before at boarding school and the fact that he was here probably meant that boarding school number ten was out.

“I might have guessed wrong.” He smirks.

“Uh-huh.” You sigh, but all you can think about is how he acted earlier. Your feet shift back and forth “Why did you hit him?”

Ben’s eyes darken. “He shouldn’t have touched you like that or said that to you.”

You stand there for a minute observing his reaction.

“He kinda deserved it." You say slowly.

You knew it was true. When Ben showed up Howard shouldn’t have lost it like he did, he definitely shouldn’t have grabbed you like that or called you his-

You stutter on that thought. But maybe he is right. I am Howard’s. We’ve been going steady… The thought of being his makes something curl up in your chest and die. There was only one man that you wanted to belong to.

"Yeah.” Ben sighs.

"Why did you call me your 'girl'?" You ask.

"Um." Ben shrugs. "Felt right in the moment."

"What?"

"I mean you are. You're my friend-"

"But that doesn't mean friend Ben." You say it gently trying to catch his eye, but Ben won't meet your gaze.

"Fine. I just wanted to mess with him a little bit." Ben frowns. "But I didn't like that he called you his, or the fact that he hurt you."

“But Ben I am his.” You whisper even though you don’t want to. “We’re going steady-“

“That doesn’t make you his!” Ben snaps, eyes flashing. “Just because he feels the need to say it doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“But Ben-“

“And I never want to hear you say it.” He continues loudly.

What is wrong with him? I've never seen him this angry about anything.

“Why?”

“Because that means he has some claim on you. You’re not his, you’re my friend.”

"You're being ridiculous. You're saying that he can't have some claim on me but you're possessively calling me your friend!" You shout back frustrated.

Why is he acting like this? Does he really hate Howard that much?

"I am not! I'm just saying that you're my friend and you're not his!"

“I can’t be both?” Your words hang in the air between the two of you and you mentally beg Ben to answer. He was acting like he wanted you to be his, like he believed that he had some claim on you and you couldn't remember another time that he'd acted this way. Sure he teased Howard, but this was more than that.

It was almost possessive and it kinda scared you how much you liked it.

Ben doesn’t answer your question. His shoulders are tense, hands clenched into fists at his sides, while something lurks behind his eyes that you can’t identify.

“Ben?” You say it like a question, ignoring the urge to press your hands against his chest like you did earlier at the dance to calm him down.

His gaze drops to your arm, where Howard grabbed you, tracing the bruises and clenching his jaw together. Ben’s right hand comes to delicately pick up your bruised wrist, running his thumb over the discolored flesh with a frown. “Does it hurt?” He rumbles changing the subject.

“No. Does that hurt?” You breathe noticing his bruised knuckles and gently probe your fingers along them.

You hated the though that he was hurt and for you, no less.

Why did he have to intervene? Why did he hit Howard?

“It was worth it.”

You both stand there for a minute, with Ben holding on to your wrist, touch surprisingly gentle.

“I just don’t like that he hurt you okay?” He mutters raising his eyes to yours. You weren't prepared for the soft look in his eyes. You expected him to still be angry over Howard, but he almost looked, worried.

“I'm okay Ben." You whisper back.

You want him to answer your question. You think again about telling him those three little words you wanted to say when you were swaying on the dance floor together but you can’t.

He nods once before he looks around the room, eyes falling on your sketchpad where it lays closed on your bed. "Got any new ones?"

You knew it was Ben's way of asking if he could stay, trying to tell you that he didn’t want to go back to Philadelphia that night, and you didn't want him to either.

"A few. If you're not too tired-"

"I’m never too tired for you."

You feel your heart beat rapidly in your chest. “Okay.”

The whole time you sit together on your bed, Ben doesn't drop your wrist, in fact he continues to brush his thumb against it while you look through your sketchbook. And in a few hours when Pearl finds you and Ben curled up in bed together, you’re not embarrassed, because deep down you’re starting to believe that Ben cared for you more than he was willing to admit.

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126

[multifandom--mess]

Hannigram Fic Recs! pt.2

Here it is, the big fat fic recs post I've been putting off for like two months but at least that means I had time to read a shit ton of fics. I made sure to do a mix of short and long fics this time around since the first part were all long ones. Enjoy!

part 1

》 The Lamb and His Monster by petrodactyl352 (Explicit)(104k)

Will has always been drawn to the macabre. The proverbial flame upon which he has burnt his fragile moth’s wings time and time again, it’s why he had fallen in love with Florence and why he alone seems to see the beauty in the grisly but exquisite work of Il Mostro. But when he meets a young man in the Uffizi Gallery whose sketchbook is filled with nothing but page upon page of intricate renditions of the Primavera drawn in reverent strokes of pencil, he realizes he may not be alone in his fascination with the Monster. As they lift veils and scale forts and slowly begin to understand each other, Will gets a taste of exactly how bright the cinders of intrigue can burn—and how quickly they can kindle into an inferno of obsession.

(Young hannigram in Florence ahhh this is seriously one of the best fics i've ever read it had to be at the top of the list)

》 Spectral Hearts by mattHughdancy (Explicit) (16k)

Will has a meltdown at a crime scene. Guess who’s called in to help.

(Another top fave of mine they are so fucking cute in this fic 🤧 features autistic Will, and Hannibal just loves him so much oh my goddd my heart exploded reading this)

》 lay like a flood spills away by bleakmidwinter (Explicit)(35k)

Will Graham meets Hannibal, a frequent cruiser, at an open-minded nudist lake. Despite his reservations, Will is drawn to him, but is eventually forced to question his mysterious nature when the lakeside regulars start to go missing.

(I loved this one bc what better setting than a nudist lake. This is just gay as hell honestly lmao bc the lake is all dudes and Will is "straight" at the beginning until he meets Hannibal and it's all downhill from there. Definitely give this one a read it had some hilarious moments too)

》 Doing Things That Friends Don't Do by HigherMagic (Explicit) (39k)

A year after the fall, Will and Hannibal have settled into a fairly blissful, domestic harmony. But Will's imagination has never let him simply enjoy what he has - why should it start now?

(Basically Will trying everything in his power NOT to have sex with Hannibal but of course we all know he can't keep it together. They are so horny for each other in this i died laughing so many times. Also this author is such an amazing writer expect multiple recs from them in this post)

》 Railroad Romance by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles (12k)(Explicit)

Hannibal is still Hannibal, and Will is still Will. Except Will is not part of the FBI and they meet on a two day train trip from New Orleans to Baltimore.

(A strangers to lovers meet-cute on a train. Lots of fluffy moments and of course train sex ensues)

》 Three Stars by beforethedawn (94k)(Explicit)

Three months after the fall, Jack finally tracks them down in Canada and Will and Hannibal have to make a run for it, slumming it through America in three star hotels and eating sub par food.

(Hannigram roadtrip!! This fic was so fun I loved it. They take on the identities of some familiar Mads and Hugh characters ;)

》 Unexpected Delight by HigherMagic (Explicit) (61k)

Will has a kink that he’s deeply ashamed of. Unbeknownst to him, Hannibal has the same or a similar/compatible kink. They get together, and Will is going out of his way as he usually does to seem like his sexual tastes are as “normal” as possible. As a result, Hannibal gets the idea that Will is super vanilla and maybe a little prudish, and not wanting to scare him off, is also keeping his kinky side on the DL. This goes on for while, with them each trying super hard to hide how kinky they are and act as “vanilla” as possible, to hilarious results, all while privately thinking the other one would be super freaked out if they knew since they’re obviously so sweet and normal.

(This whole thing is literally ALL smut 😭😭 but Han and Will love each other to death and the sex is so good y'all omg I had to stop reading multiple times to catch my breath)

》 The Substitute by Devereauxs_Disease (Explicit) (10k)

When Hannibal tells Will he's sick, Will is skeptical. Before he knows it, he's laying in a hospital bed and being told he's going nowhere for two weeks. Will is distraught until Hannibal swoops in and offers to take over Will's courses at the FBI Academy. Will doesn't mind Hannibal showing up every night with a home-cooked meal, but he might just resent Hannibal becoming the most popular teacher at the Academy in just two weeks...

(A seaon 1 au if Hannibal wasn't an asshole had told Will about the encephalitis. This is hilarious tho because the students don't like Will no more when he comes back and they keep asking about Hannibal 😭��� poor Will lmaoo)

》 When This Old Tired Body Wants to Sing by KareliaSweet (Explicit) (7k)

“Fuck me quicker, darling,” he purrs with liquid insincerity, “God forbid you see my face.” Will never touches him unless it is in the dark. In the daylight he is a ghost.

(Will being an asshole and only fucking Hannibal in the dark ugh 🙄 but things work out eventually so don't worry!)

》 Maybe Tomorrow by Shotgun_sinner (Explicit) (26k)

After recovering from their tumble off a cliff, Will agrees to get Hannibal to Portugal, where the good doctor can start a new life for himself. In exchange, Will can take the boat and return to his life, or start over himself. A storm hits on the open water, leaving them stranded somewhere in the Azores. With no one else on the small island, they're forced to work together for survival, and work through their violent past in order to get along.

(A survival au! I LOVED this and author is another fave of mine. I go crazy for a good stranded on a deserted island trope and this did not disappoint. Also there is an insanely funny part where I absolutely DIED. You'll know when you read it 💀💀)

》 I've Always Been A Daughter by air_of_the_Waterfall (44k)(Explicit)

It's been a month since Will and Abigail ran away with Hannibal. Living in a safe Canadian town, Will and Hannibal are free to explore their newfound intimacy and Abigail has a chance at the future she craves. However, upon meeting Hannibal’s sister Mischa and her daughter, loyalties are tested and insecurities run rampant. The Lecters have an undeniably dark past, and as Abigail and Will fall deeper into its truths, Hannibal’s manipulation and misguided love come to light more clearly than ever before.

(This fic is truly a hidden gem I am so glad I found it. Murder family post-mizumono and also MISCHA LIVES. The plot is so well written and I love Mischa's characterization. Definitely give this one a read, yall it is SO GOOD it deserves so much love)

》 Home is Not a Place by Shotgun_Sinner (11k)(Explicit)

Post-Fall, Hannibal recovers from his injuries. Will takes care of him, and their relationship evolves much more easily than Hannibal thought it would. The only issue is that Will is a constant presence, and he hasn't had alone time in three years. It ends up not being an issue at all.

(This one is so sweet. Basically Hannibal wants to jerk off but he can't because Will is just always there and he hardly gets a moment alone and he'll feel bad for telling him to go away 😭😭 but they finally get together in the end

》 Held in the Highest Regard by HigherMagic (12k)(Explicit)

What happens when a group of serial killers pick the absolute worst targets? Will is already having a pretty rough night, since Hannibal proposed to him and Will said 'No' for reasons he still hasn't quite figured out yet. It's not their fault - they couldn't have known - but sometimes people have to learn lessons the hard way, and Will could definitely use some stress relief.

(If you are familiar with the movie 'The Strangers' then you'll really like this one. I reread it like three times it was so good. Shit had me tweaking omg this is like the perfect au for them)

》 Green-Eyed Monster by CestPasDuBaudelaire (53k)(Explicit)

Will and Hannibal have settled in Cuba and, for the past year, they have been living their happily ever after in a small hidden community for retired wanted criminals. However, at the hazard of a gathering, Will is faced with an unbelievable fact, other members of the community may also fancy his monster of a husband. Then comes Will's spiraling, as he learns to come to terms with a disastrous, chaotic and slowly overwhelming possessiveness. And of course, feelings are never easy to deal with, when Hannibal is involved. A smut character study in three acts exploring Will's possessiveness.

(Top!Will my beloved. Don't let the title fool you, this was so fun to read and I love the community for wanted criminals idea. And possessive Will is always a treat ;)

》 Haunted by Anonymous (165k)(Explicit)

Still recovering from their fight with Dolarhyde, Will and Hannibal escape to New Orleans with Chiyoh's help. But Will is still struggling to accept Hannibal and his own darkness, something that Hannibal has every intention of helping him overcome...

(And finally I leave you guys with this monster of a fic. So sad that the author chose to go anon but if they somehow see this I hope they know how much I love this story. Will is struggling and Hannibal is an asshole at certain points but when is he not? Lots of references to Will's past too and some stuff about his mom that's very interesting)

I hope you guys enjoy these stories as much as I did. If you read any and want to discuss my messages and ask box are always open! ♡♡♡

[nevernonline]

✧.* pancakes for dinner; svt smau

chapter 01; new beginnings

✧.* synopsis: y/n while in her third year at greenwood international university finally gets an opportunity to move off campus into a new complex, she has to deal with the realization that her childhood rival is her new next door neighbor.

 paring: seungcheol x fem! reader. 

feat: non-idol! svt, nct mark&jaehyun, other passing idols ykyk.

genre/s: reader is super oblivious, fluffy, sexual themes. 

content: swearing, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

start date: 7/8

updates: weekly

tag list - open

masterlist ▸ 00.teaser! x marks the spot ▸ 02. you have to be kidding me

note: hi!! welcome to my new beginning of pancakes for dinner, hehe. so excited to start fresh w/ some new faces and characters for u all. I hope u enjoy sm. I'll try uploading once or twice a week depending ily all.

taglist: @minhui896 @sun-daddy-yoriichi @luchiet @miles-sketchbook @kissesfrmwonwoo @readerlozies @vcutparis @mxnhoeuwu @writingbarnes @headlockimnida @odxrilove @jeonghaniehaee

[intimidating-fettuccine]

This idea randomly popped into my head and I just wanted to write it down.

Just imagining Helen if he didn’t become a creep. Helen growing up and doing everything he can to get away from his abusive parents. Helen buried himself in his art, trying to perfect and improve it and make something out of it. Helen goes on to become a very well-known artist, making a living off of his work, so much so that he starts to travel so that he can experience new things and further his creativity with all the different views he sees and people he meets. Helen who saw you one day in a park and knew immediately you were the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen. Helen keeps going back to that park hoping to see you again, and he does.

He walks up to where you’re sitting and politely asks to sit next to you, and he’s elated when you agree. He absentmindedly draws the landscape around you, catching your eyes as you compliment him on his work. He bashfully thanks you, explaining he’s an artist and does it by trade. You ask to see more of his pieces, and he shows you photos of them, explaining all of the details and inspirations that went into them. You talk for a few hours, and at the end of it, Helen asks if it would be alright to get your number. Despite fearing rejection more than when publishing any art piece, you accept again, and he feels elation flowing through him.

He decides to stay in your city for a much longer period of time than he originally intended, halting his travel plans. The two of you keep talking, and eventually, Helen asks for you to model for him. You’re unsure at first, not really convinced you’d be the best model for him, but he insists, citing his beliefs; that you’re a very attractive person and he’d love to capture you artistically. Though flustered, you agree to his request and begin casually modeling for him. Soon, all of his sketchbooks are filled with you. Once Helen draws you a few times it becomes muscle memory to him, and he finds himself absentmindedly sketching you whenever he’s distracted. The two of you continue to grow closer, meeting up for lunches and dinners, hanging out when the two of you are free, and occasionally with you modeling for him in between.

Helen knows a few weeks into talking to you that he’d like to ask you on a date, but it takes a few months in truth before he gets there. Months where he was supposed to be leaving your area, but instead he’s renting an apartment, buying furniture, creating a permanent space he never planned on doing, but he can’t force himself to leave. By the time he’s finally confident enough to ask you, you’re equally as interested in him, and soon one date becomes two, and then three, and then four, and then Helen is convinced he’s never going to be able to move away from you.

You’re the most charming and wonderful person he’s ever met, with all of your quirks and habits, and he just can’t help but fall deeper and deeper in love with you every day. Sketches of you become paintings, some of which are subtle enough to obscure your identity he publishes, but those that truly follow his work and online presence begin to recognize the silhouette in his pieces with the person he’s regularly taking photos with when the two of you are on excursions, although nobody has definitive proof of it being you, it’s obvious that you’ve enamored the once lonely artist.

Helen continues to grow, amassing a bigger audience and obtaining a much more stable financial income from his work, taking up commissions in his spare time that contribute heavily. He still travels on occasion but is no longer alone. He takes you with him, showing you his favorite places, all of the beautiful areas you’d never been to before, but can’t help but recognize from some of the photos he once showed you on that fateful day at the park. Months turn into years, a lonely apartment turns into one with warmth and two bodies to occupy it together, and Helen can’t help but relish in the fact that you are the best decision he’s ever made.

Eventually, of course, he asks you to marry him. He takes you to a spot he said he’d been planning on scouting for a painting, a gorgeous area, one of the most beautiful he’d ever taken you to. While you’re admiring the scenery, he kneels down behind you, and of course, when you turn to face him finally and he pops the question, you can’t help but say yes. The next piece he publishes is of a hand, adorned by a beautiful engagement ring in front of a gorgeous view. Then, it becomes two people in love on their wedding day, the same ring spotted in the painting, now accompanied by a wedding band. Through all his early trials and tribulations, Helen never thought he’d find someone to settle down with, but he’s never been more thankful for anything than he is for meeting you. His art started so dark, so moody, but after growing with you it’s become filled with so much warmth and expression. The once lonely artist found his muse that changed his life for the better, his muse that he’ll continue to paint for the rest of his days, so long as he is able.

[mkkk12345]

Student Crewel x Reader headcanon/fic

This is set when Crewel was still a student at NRC, reader is a first year and Crewel is a second year.

Its 3 am I don’t know what I am doing please take my offering and feel free to request I guess. 

- There's no doubt about it he is a Pomfiore student

- Because of his unique and fabulous fashion sense he became the house-warden in his first year

- Back then he did not dye his hair white it was solid black

- As the house-warden he is smart, he has perfect grades to go along with his looks

- In his free time, you could likely find him sketching out new fashion designs for his next show

- Did I forget to mention that he is already an established and renowned fashion designer?

- As a house-warden he is strict not as bad as Riddle but similarly to Vil he requires everyone to look their best at all times

- You and Crewel met in his second year when you were in your first year

- Upon seeing you in the hall of mirrors he would firstly critique your ceremonial robes seeing that although your looks were good my god u did not know how to put that thing on… he can fix you… I think?

- He had mixed feelings when you were assigned to Pomfiore

- Only once you had been sorted into his dorm did he begin to really think about your ill fitting ceremonial robes

- On one hand, he had never seen someone like you before

- On the other hand… there was a lot of work to be done regarding your choice of clothing

- Your first interactions with him were likely right after the ceremony 

- You were talking to a couple of first years before being sent off to your dorms when you heard the clicking of footsteps quickly approaching you

- This is followed by your ceremonial robes being adjusted along with murmuring about how troublesome it's going to be with you in the dorm

- Once you arrived at Pomfiore you found out the one who had been fussing over your clothing was nonother than the house-warden himself Divius Crewel

- Although all the fussing over you was annoying at first as you slowly got to know him things became slightly better

- Once you found out that he was a famous fashion designer all those times he held his sketchbook up to compare to you finally made sense

- Now whenever you catch him doing this your face would flush and you would quickly turn away 

- When you start doing this he is confused, you use to at least acknowledge his presence when you looked at him but now what? Don’t tell him he was about to lose a future model of his?

- After a month of this happening he decided to confront you about it

- Of course, at first you denied anything like this even happening but as the conversation continued an unexplainable hint of pink surfaced on your cheeks

- And that's when he pieced everything together 

- With a smirk on his face, he decided why not torment you for a little longer before confirming his suspicions 

- “Say Y/N why don't we continue this conversation in my room there's something else I must discuss so let's leave it at this for now, shall we? We cant be late for class can we now?”

- Your friends practical dragged you to your next class that day as you continued to overthink everything he had just said

- Once all school activities had ended you slowly inched your way back to the dorms and to the grand doors of Crewels room

- Your shaky knock on the door was met with an annoyed “come in” from Crewel

- “Ahh why if it isn't my dear puppy”

- Your dead 

- On the floor even

- What did he just call you??? Puppy???????

- While you were too stunned to speak he continued

- “I needed to discuss some work-related things with you, would you like to model for me in my next show?”

- What? Did you just hear him correctly?? He wants YOU to walk for him?

- “Are you sure Divus? I mean I've never done anything of the sort before and-”

- “Look dear it either you walk or this show doesn't go on I did design this collection with you in mind after all”

- That smirk god damit that smirk 

- “Fine, I can't let work like yours be thrown into the shadows after all.”

[xagave]

pleasepleaseplease recommend some danphan fics!!

Sorry these are on ff.net I was into danphan before AO3 was really A Thing. Invisobang also just completed and a whole wack of new fics are also now out for your enjoyment so I suggest taking a look there too Lab Rat - Danny (as Phantom) is captured by his parents and vivisected in the lab. THE MOST iconic dp fic from this era of fandom and also the first dp fic I ever read which single-handedly got me into the fandom. I also recommend anything else by this author[sequel]

Pits - Danny is captured by Walker and thrown into the Pits to fight for his life. HANDS DOWN my all time favorite dp fic. I drew a bunch of fanart for it and never showed the author LMAO [sequel]

In The Way - A twisted tale of a summer spent all alone

Wondering - Danny's been captured and tortured by his parents, but he refuses to say a word until his psychiatrist starts connecting the dots. Can he risk keeping it a secret any longer?

Dreams of Light - A cute box ghost fic with a fun twist at the end

Phantom's Sketchbook - Mr. Lancer finds himself in an unparalleled situation, he has access to something which can give him incredible insight into the personal workings of Amity Park's local ghost teen hero, Danny Phantom

Masks - Lancer has had enough of his most enigmatic, frustrating student Daniel Fenton and forces him to stay in detention with him until Danny tells him The Truth. A story examining Danny's relationship with the human race. Another BIG FAVE of mine [sequel]

Darkness - Part 1 of Illuminations saga. [part 2][part 3][part 4] Maddie and Phantom are trapped in the dark and must work together to avoid dying. I don't remember much about this but I do remember it being super creepy and I bulldozed my way through all 4 parts so it must have been good lol

I'm Still Here - Danny's been locked away in a forgotten thermos, buried in the backyard for 70 years. When he's finally released, happy isn't the word he'd use to describe his new life

Real Life - A very creepy take on ghosts and the events of the show, where they're more inhuman, feral, and scary. I don't remember much about this but it's unfinished

Lopeholt - Valerie must survived the night in the third scariest place on earth. **VERY** creepy, I remember reading this in the dark and it gave me nightmares. Another top fave. I def recommend reading anything else by this author

Running to the Enemy's Arms - Danny runs away and ends up on the doorstep of the person who's dead last on his list of favorite people - Vlad. Danny/Vlad father son relationship. A fun and interesting view of what Danny's life would be like had he been the son Vlad always wanted. Incomplete but also another BIG FAVE of mine. Tolerate the first 1-2 chapters and the rest is golden

Checkmate - Vlad forces Danny to leave everything behind in order to save Jazz's life. But just when the billionaire believes to have won his chess game against his young rival, Danny makes a single unexpected move.

A Secret Uncovered - Danny's transformation is caught on tape and now the whole town knows who he is Photoshop - Dash and Kwan find an old class picture and start having a little too much fun on Photoshop. Will someone's secret be revealed?

Chained - It starts with a fire at the Guys in White headquarters, where a vengeful Valerie stumbles across an imprisoned Danny Phantom. It starts with injustice. But what happens when justice and revenge are confused for one another? Where does a hero end, and a villain begin?

Phantom of Truth - Locked away in a secret government lab with Phantom as her subject, nothing stands between Maddie and the truth… except, perhaps, herself [Sequel]

The Soul Sepulchre - Something foul is stirring in Amity Park and it all starts in the bowels of Amity Park's Museum of Natural History

Moral Code - Moral code says to never kill or capture a specimen that you did not weaken yourself. Maddie finds Danny Phantom wounded late at night after a hard battle. After she helps him, she finds there is more to him than she ever thought possible. Mother/son bonding

Connections - Maddie knows that the Booo-merang has keyed into Danny, for whatever reason, so what's she to think when she sees it collide with Phantom? [Sequel]

Isolated - It's just a wish that's been granted with the wrong twist, but for Danny, it's a nightmare that's become reality. He's stuck as Phantom, his family's hunting him, and everyone who can help him is gone

Little Earthquakes - They say that a man is defined by what he does when he thinks nobody's looking. Does the same hold true for ghosts?

Tortured Truth - Danny's parents discover that the ghost boy is half human. Now that they've captured Danny, will he submit to torture and reveal himself, or is the revelation just the beginning of their problems? [Sequel]

Estrelas - AU. Sam's attention is captured by a lonely ghost haunting her grandmother's attic…and discovering his secrets will take everything she has.

Criteria of Life - Every living thing must follow the Laws of Life; however, Maddie wonders if Phantom can somehow follow these laws as well. The fact that he is a ghost is putting a knick in her plans, but what if Phantom can follow the Laws of Life?

[comicaurora]

Hey Red!

I have a writing question I’d like to ask, if that’s cool with you!

When it comes to starting a new story, big or small, pantsing or structuring, with black tea or chamomile, do you have any tips for, er, actually pulling the trigger and beginning? I don’t mean the “accusatory blank page”, I mean in getting to the “I genuinely believe this is a story worth telling and that should be told by me” mindset sufficient to commit. (Insofar as there’s a difference.)

Asking you because you’re someone who has excellent and proven skills in showwomanship, creativity, execution and all-round good storytelling vibes. Cuz while I’ve studied story structure and writing advice aplenty… It’s hard to take the dive when you’ve only ever been in the kiddie pool, so to speak.

Thanks either way!

Aw shucks!

I kinda feel like there's an intermediate stage here that I usually hit first, which is when I've been telling a story for myself for so long that I start feeling like I don't want to keep it to myself anymore.

A lot of the stuff I write or draw is just for me - stuff where I enjoy the act of creation or use it to flesh out and play with a concept I've been toying with. Sketchbook stuff that doesn't have an outside audience in mind, just stuff that I like. These aren't stories that have the end goal of sharing them - hell, half of them are just comic or prose adaptations of story beats that stuck with me that I wanted to play around with as practice and for fun. The rest of it is sketch pages of characters, doodles of scenes or snippets of prose writing built around a single scene or concept.

I think that the creative urge, when examined, should be subdivided into two extremely distinct subsections for clarity; the desire to make, and the desire to share. Not every person shares both in equal measure - in fact I'd say it's much more common for them to exist independently. The desire to share isn't limited to art you yourself created, either - fandom is constructed from a massive excess of the desire to share, passing around a story for examination and discussion because it is inherently fun to share the experience, and most of us can relate to the burning need to talk about this thing that's in my brain. And there's plenty of art that results from the desire to make that has none of the desire to share, ref cit everything in a sketchbook or every private writing exercise done for the joy of it. Neither element can be forced, and there's nothing wrong with either one existing without the other.

For me at least, the desire to share builds slowly for the larger projects. I might be eager to share a doodle or a sketch I think people will get a kick out of, but something bigger and more complicated will stay in my brain for much longer, and might never make it out. For me, Aurora started as just a playground for me to write and draw in, but over the years it built up to something I wanted to share - something I felt I'd be betraying if I let it sit in my head. It kind of just grew naturally, and if I'd tried to force it beforehand I would've felt self-conscious and uncomfortable rather than getting any joy out of the act of sharing.

[anamoon63]

"The future only belongs to the future itself, and the future is Electric Youth".

Okay so, Time Traveler (The Crane Legacy) wasn’t a story in the beginning, it started as just gameplay about a young guy from the future, Robin Crane, a plumbot builder, who travels to the past and meets the woman of his dreams. Robin had a concern, though, in the Oasis Landing population files, no descendants of his were listed, so he became obsessed that he should start having kids right away, so much so, that he got into all the trouble that gave rise to the story.

Then, you know me, I started planning and writing a plot, taking posed photos for the characters, using special saves in both Aurora Skies and Oasis Landing to stage scenes, etc. And, since I had to follow a script, my characters’ lives were kind of on pause. But… in the original Aurora Skies save, where everything started, time and life continued to pass for the Cranes and the Shens (Juliette’s family), something that doesn’t happen in my story saves, where, due to technical reasons, life takes much longer to pass.

I've tried to keep secret what happens in the original Aurora Skies' save, so as not to spoil the story, but since Time Traveler is about, well, time traveling, lol, I thought we could do a little six-year time jump from 2017 to 2023 in order to introduce the next generation (3rd actually) of the Crane dynasty. So, without further ado, I present to you the third generation of Cranes.

From left to right: Carrie, Wanda, Rowan, Jessica, and Collin. Rowan and Jessica are the oldest with 8 (real life) years; and Collin, Carrie and Wanda are 6 (real life) years old. (Yes, they're all the same height cause I don't use height sliders in order not to mess my game).

As we already know, these five kids are all Robin's children, from three different moms, which are Juliette Shen (Rowan's mom) Kaleigh Chandelace (Collin's mom) and Ann Conners (Jessi, Carrie and Wanda's mom). Despite this, they love each other as if they were full siblings, cause they all have something in common: they have the same father, and some of them, (I am not telling which ones), also share Robin's alien genes. They are currently living their lives at the fullest, learning about their alien powers and preparing to compete among themselves to be Robin's successor. Who of them will make it? I still don't know so I can't tell, and if I knew I wouldn't tell. 😉

Sorry if this post was too long, or if it seemed like a spoiler, it's just I'm so happy with how this generation turned out that I couldn't resist, and I just can't wait for them to grow so I can tell their stories. 😋

I take this opportunity to say that Time Traveler (the actual story) is not over, it will be back, though maybe not too soon. I'm currently writing the episodes of Part Three: To the Moon and Back, where we will go to Robin's rescue after his abduction by an alien ship, and where, contrary to this post, we'll go back one generation to meet Robin's long-lost parents. It's a long way to go, but eventually we'll get there, then we'll let Robin take a rest as we move on to this brand new third generation. Of course, I want to give my endless thanks to Bee @poses-by-bee, @gabrielabenacci, @anasaquasims and Rayne's Factory and for the poses. As well as to @aroundthesims, @anzuchansims, @ifcasims, @plumdrops, lillka, blakegriplingph (MTS), and sketchbook pixels for the kids' hair and clothing. Proper credits and links here below: POSES

Child Friendship Poses, Child emotion Storytelling Poses, and Child Sit Poses by Bee. Child Posepack by Gaby's Creations. Cute Kid Poses by Rayne's Factory. Child Poses Shy by Anasaquasims.

CLOTHING, HAIR AND SHOES

Jessica: Loose top with Tulle Skirt, Cute Cardigan for Girls and Shine Leggings by Lillka; T-Bar Pointy School Shoes by Blakegriplingph (MTS). Jessica's hair: Nightcrawler Deep S3 Age Conversion by Plumbdrops. Carrie: Ruffle top with Cotton Jacket by Lillka; River (Shorts) by Sketchbook Pixels; Darte 77 Vans Old Skool by Anzuchansims. Carrie's hair is N03 Thyme, also by Anzuchansims. Wanda: Zipped Hoddie 4to3 conversion by ATS3 (Around the Sims 3), Winter Shorts by Lillka, Darte 77 Vans Old Skool by Anzuchansims. Wanda's hair is Anto - Milano by IfcaSims. Rowan: Sforzinda SP42 Hoodie, Studio-K Giruto Multi Pocket Pants and Darte 77/Pixicat Old Boots, all by Anzuchansims. Rowan's hair is Wingssims ER0914 also by Anzuchansims. Collin: Darte Coat and Hoodie, Darte 77 Jeans and Darte 77/Pixicat Old Boots, all by Anzuchansims. Collin's hair is Anto Male 75 by TTS -My Bluebook

Thank you very much to you all for making my game beautiful, interesting and fun. 🤗💗

The quote at the beginning of this post, is from Electric Youth, by Debbie Gibson, one of my all-time favorite songs. 😉✨

[bloopitynoot]

9 "Older" Lan Zhan WangXian Fics

Another rec list created for @yiling-laozu-is-loml but everyone pls enjoy!

Note: all of these fics are tried and true; meaning I have vetted, read, and cherish all of them.

There were some specific requests for WangXian fics featuring "older" Lan Zhan (I also added a little extra allowance).

Request parameters:

Must feature WangXian ONLY

bottomXian only (If applicable)

Book canon only (if applicable)

Can include: age difference as little as a year up to lifetimes.

Can include: age difference for reals but also in spirit (ex: Accidental Sugar Daddy Lan Zhan, intentional Sugar Daddy Lan Zhan, gratuitous usage of gege, immortal Lan Zhan)

Can also include: (if there isn't much of an age difference) a power differences in which the power difference is in Lan Zhan's favour (ex: employer/employee or professor/student)

I have a little mix of all of the above in the fics below.

If you'd like a personalized rec list- feel free to DM me! I love putting these together.

1 We Were Never Strangers (36728 words) by NeverEnoughWangxian

Chapters: 3/3 Rating: Mature Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern Cultivators, POV Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, (mostly), College Student Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Rogue Cultivator Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Immortal Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Immortal Lan Yuan | Lan Sizhui, Dreams, Pining, Sharing a Bed, brief mentions of wwx's past death(s), WangXian.mp3, Getting Together, I guess getting back together technically, Happy Ending, No beta we die like wwx, added tags for last chapter:, Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Biting Summary: The dream shifts. They’re back home now, tangled up in bed, buried under a mountain of blankets and, at least in Wei Ying’s case, sore in all the ways he doesn’t mind being sore in. His husband is radiating warmth, and Wei Ying burrows into his arms happily. He presses his still-freezing toes to his husband’s calves and muffles a snort of laughter against Lan Zhan’s chest when he feels the muscles tense momentarily from the shock. Lan Zhan nips at his ear in retaliation but continues to run his fingers soothingly through Wei Ying’s hair. He melts into the touch. The only thing keeping him from turning into a puddle is the strong familiar arms around him, holding him together, holding him close. When Wei Ying wakes up, he’s full-body shivering. His hand slides across the bed, reaching instinctively for the warmth of someone who was never there to begin with. Wei Ying is an art major by day, cultivator by night. After a seemingly routine night-hunt, he starts getting these strange, vivid dreams of a man in white he’s never met before yet somehow feels like he’s known his whole life…

NOTES: Starting this list off with a bang- soulmate AU, reincarnated WY, and an immortal Lan Zhan who is really just out here living to find his man. I love this one so much because it has such good descriptions of WY's past experiences with Lan Zhan. I love the art imagery and WY being an artist. This was just a fantastic fic with a solid ending.

2 Professor Lan, Babysitter Extraordinaire (4367 words) by Eleanor_Fenyx

Chapters: 1/1 Rating: General Audiences Additional Tags: Fluff, Single Parent Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, professor lan wangji, Mature Student Wei Wuxian, background 3zun, Really just wanted an excuse to write baby a-yuan and LWJ bonding, Modern AU Series: Part 3 of Wangxian One-Shots Summary: “He’s got snacks and his sketchbook and a couple of quiet toys in there, and he can go to the bathroom by himself if you take him to it, and he likes to ask questions in new places, and-“ “Wei Ying.” “Right! Okay! God this is so weird. A-Yuan this is Lan-laoshi, be good for him please, he’s very nice. I’ll come pick you up as soon as I’m done, okay?” “Okay Baba,” A-Yuan says and then - so quickly it’s a surprise that his passing doesn’t make an audible swishing noise like a cartoon - Wei Wuxian darts into the lecture hall, leaving Lan Wangji alone with the scruffy bag and the not-nearly-as-scruffy toddler. Lan Wangji looks down at the boy, who looks back up at him, and he’s still far too adorable for his own good. “Your father is perhaps too trusting,” Lan Wangji remarks. A-Yuan seems to consider this for a long moment before he nods resolutely in a way that tells Lan Wangji he has no idea what he means. “May I carry you?” A-Yuan is quick to let go of his leg to reach up instead, so Lan Wangji reaches down to pick him up under his arms and hoist him onto his hip where he settles heavily like a sentient sack of potatoes.

NOTES: This fic is tooth rot sweet. The speed in which Lan Zhan goes from "kids- indifference" to "I WILL adopt this child and his father" is staggering. It's very short, very cute, and mostly not WangXian but end game wangxian and an excellent cleanser of a fic.

3 running around, chasing each other on the rooftops of China (53898 words) by Verity

Chapters: 5/5 Rating: Explicit Additional Tags: Fox Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Immortal Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Mystery, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji and Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Have a Breeding Kink, Female Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, But only for like a chapter and then he gets stuck as a fox, Uhhhhhh this was only supposed to be 15k, Help me i dont know why it keeps expanding Summary: Wei Wuxian, like every other person living in the dazzling era of technology and the modern age, knows that there's a hidden world tucked between society. It reeks of magic, wonder, horror, and everything in between, hidden in the shadows unless one dares to look. If one chooses not to see, they will never find a single hint that something different is amiss. As someone enamored with smartphones and laptops, Wei Wuxian never thought he would stumble upon the mystical. Until one day, his landlord couldn't see him. Or: Wei Wuxian dives headfirst into a shadowy world of magic, where he falls for a mythical figure and discovers a forgotten past.

NOTES: I honestly didn't expect to like this fic as much as I did- I was warry of the tag "Female Wei Ying" as it's not my speed usually BUT it ended up being a solid fic. I do love Foxxian fics and that paired with an eclectic hotel of magical beings ended up becoming sneakily endearing. This fic also has a solid "thawing ice prince/cunning fox" dynamic that is perfection.

4 Be around for the next day (10996 words) by Song_of_Storms

Chapters: 2/2 Rating: Explicit Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, New York City, Bisexual Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Top Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Bottom Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Mentions of WWX plus others, Slutty Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Trans Nie Huaisang, short king NHS, Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji Talks Dirty Summary: Wei Ying owns a lucky red leather jacket that’s gotten him laid countless times. When he wears it out, someone’s going home with him. He doesn’t care who. He’s not picky. What matters is the jacket works, every time. Then he meets Lan Zhan. [Or, the leather jacket AU.]

Notes: So full disclosure this fic doesn't really have an age difference? maybe it does? unclear -BUT the dynamic between the two gives off very much that. It is filthy but also cute. Intentional bachelor WY has something coming for his sworn oath of singledom named Lan Zhan. Also- this fic features leather jackets!

5 All Old Things are New Again (51656 words) by The Feels Whale

Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Mature Additional Tags: Reincarnation, Modern Setting, canon still happened, extreme post canon, Sugar Daddy, Kink Negotiation, gentle dom!LWJ, canonical levels of consent play, Modern Cultivators, cultivators can recognize important people from previous lives, vaguely, this started out as a cute sugar fantasy and got just incredibly horny very fast, blame LWJ Series: Part 1 of All Old Things Are New Again Summary: Full-time necromancer and part-time cam boy, Wei Wuxian, finds himself unexpectedly homeless. An enthusiastic patron comes to his rescue. Conversely: Immortal Cultivator Lan Wangji has been waiting a long time for his deceased husband to be reincarnated again. In retrospect, he should have anticipated that this is how it would go.

NOTES: What do you do when you, an immortal, finally find your reincarnated soulmate on a cam site. Obviously- become their secret sugar daddy. The premise of this is wild but it's a good vibe. I do love when Lan Zhan is READY to rescue his man.

6 A Sure Thing (40280 words) by ElDiablito_SF

Chapters: 7/7 Rating: Explicit Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Pretty Woman Fusion, Prostitution, Unsafe Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Attempted Sexual Assault, You'd think this would be wild and kinky, but actually they're soft and gross, past Zhancheng and they're still friends, Prostitute!WWX, rich asshole!LWJ, fashion bitch!LWJ, Shoe Porn, background attempted Xiyao, Drinking to Cope, physical assault, Villain JGY, Angst with a Happy Ending Series: Part 1 of Pretty Woman AU Summary: Lan Wangji's business trip isn't going very well. On top of it all, his fiancé dumps him, leaving him without a date to all the boring social functions he's expected to attend. Luckily the rentboy he accidentally picks up while stopping for directions seems to be the answer to at least his temporary problems. Yes, this is the Wangxian Pretty Woman AU.

NOTES: Okay I will state that this fic is very crackish but it was so good. The pretty Woman AU ft sex worker WY and sugar daddy divorcee and absolute BITCH Lan Zhan. Okay I believe there is mention of Lan Zhan's ex but it clearly is not a love match at all and so wildly ridiculous that it didn't phase me (it is NOT a pairing I ever read or seek out either), so I hope that doesn't ruin this fic for you @yiling-laozu-is-loml.

7 Players gonna play (68541 words) by Scrippio

Chapters: 6/6 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Theater AU, Kinda, Director Wei Ying, Faculty advisor Lan Zhan, grad student Jiang Cheng, Baker Yànlí, grad student Wen Qing, for all intents and purposes, wanxian are in a teaching au, chengqing is in a school au, and xuanli is in a bakery au, Fluff, First Meeting, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Depression, but like coming out of it, No beta we die like wwx Summary: In which the Gusu University theater club is looking for a new beginning, starting with a new faculty advisor (Lan Zhan) and a new director (Wei Ying).

NOTES: This is one of the fics in which there isnt an age difference really, but Lan Zhan is technically WY's boss so that dynamic comes to play here. This fic is so damn wholesome. It has the junior squad, a bit of college au, brilliant WY, and Lan Qiren wishing none of these things ever came to pass (affectionately). A very wholesome adorable fluffy fic.

8 Overboard (51434 words) by celerydragon

Chapters: 11/11 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Misunderstandings, Temporary Amnesia, Comedy, hopefully-freeform, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship Summary: Wei Ying, carpenter and single parent (he's doing FINE!) goes in for a repair job on a fancy yacht. After the rich-bitch owner of the yacht falls overboard and loses his memory, Wei Ying completely honourably, and with zero ill intentions, swoops in to save the day by lying about their relationship. There's no way this could go wrong.   (based on the 1987 movie)

NOTES: In which Wey Ying (idiot and carpenter) sort of kind of kid naps rich bitch lan zhan post a boating accident and convinces him (badly and not really) that they are in fact married. This is less age difference and more sugar daddy/gege energy BUT if you liked the film overboard, this is even better. Please watch while WY simultaneously sweats and falls in love with the man and hot mess he's created.

9 sunstruck (64376 words) by vesna

Chapters: 8/8 Rating: Explicit Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, what lan wangji did on his summer vacation, Background LXC/NMJ Summary: Lan Zhan nods as the boat nears the dock and the figure becomes clearer. It's a young man with dark hair down to his shoulders and a wide smile. He is also Asian, and as he turns his gaze to Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan finds himself robbed of breath for the second time that day. The young man is beautiful. He could, Lan Zhan thinks, be Lan Zhan's age, possibly a bit younger. He's tan, wearing a bright pink shirt with the restaurant logo on it, and cargo shorts. He has a small mole under his lower lip. "Hey, guys!" he greets with a wave. "Need a hand?" "Yes, please, if you don't mind," Lan Huan shouts back. He gets up and begins the preparations for docking, handing the young man several ropes. "Thank you, Wei Ying." Wei Ying. That's the boy's name.

NOTES: Lan Zhan has a summer he will never forget and falls for the Hot Boy working at the restaurant. There is a very slight age difference but mostly this is a status difference fic- Lan Zhan has big money money and is technically a customer so the dynamic is there. Anyways- solid fic, good ending :)

[entamewitchlulu]

I’m curious about your headcanons on joshneku

If have you any?

Oh for sure!!!

-> I don't think they officially get together until 1-2 years after the events of NEO (which I still haven't played I'M SORRY EVERYONE T-T), mostly because Joshua continues to be a little gremlin who disappears at the barest hint of vulnerability, so it takes Neku a bit to actually manage to land him

-> Joshua truly has no intention of actually pursuing Neku at first. He just watches longingly from a distance, pissing off everyone else around him (mostly Hanekoma). He does secretly do little things to make Neku's life easier, like editing some things here or there to make him able to get an apartment easier, help him find a job easier, etc. Neku is very aware that Joshua is doing this and it's annoying.

-> Neku initiates the relationship. He gets Hanekoma to help him corner Joshua and essentially strongarm him into spending time with him and the rest of the gang. He then manages to kiss Joshua at Udagawa, which makes Joshua bluescreen and he avoids Neku for like two weeks until Neku manages to break into the Dead God's Pad to corner him again and make them have the "what are we" talk

-> Neku is definitely the more emotionally intelligent of the two of time. Joshua thinks he can get away with flustering Neku by being embarrassing and flirty, but when Neku responds with genuine love and care Joshua shuts down. Even late into their relationship Joshua can suddenly get taken off guard by a simple act of affection, but he's getting better at it

-> At the beginning of their relationship, Neku is more casually touchy-feely. Joshua always has to have a whole Scheme around intimate touch but then Neku just slings an arm over his shoulder or casually leans against him or pulls him into his arms while they're in bed and Joshua whites out. Once Joshua starts to get socialized like a feral cat settles into the relationship, he gets a bit needier and seeks cuddles a lot more often. Neku sometimes pretends to be exasperated but he loves cuddling just as much.

-> I must reiterate this. They are SO touchy-feely. Once they both settle into their relationship they're almost always in each other's space, even in public. Joshua can and will sit in Neku's lap any time he gets the chance. Shiki thinks it's really funny and cute. Beat is SO embarrassed. ("would you two get a FUCKING room")

-> One thing they both struggle with is communicating, as Neku still tends to close off when he's upset, and Joshua will make a joke out of literally anything rather than be vulnerable. Hanekoma often ends up being their impromptu relationship counselor because both of them will come and complain about the other to him separately, and Hanekoma will give them both advice that eventually gets them to talk more straight with each other. Hanekoma has accepted this as his penance (and also he genuinely cares about both of them and wants to help them out).

-> Neku does a lot of drawing but he has one special sketchbook full just of drawings he's done of Joshua when Joshua wasn't paying attention. He tries to keep this a secret from Joshua but Joshua absolutely knows. He desperately wants to tease Neku about it but he's also genuinely touched and even a little embarrassed by the deep love that's clear in Neku's drawings so he keeps his knowledge to himself.

-> This isn't JoshNeku specific but i think when Joshua finally actually joins the gang his best friend in the group ends up being Rhyme, which surprises everyone. Rhyme is very easygoing and finds Joshua funny. She builds well off of his roasts and he's surprised at her willingness to go along with his shenanigans. He lets her paint his nails sometimes.

-> Sharing music is one of Neku's biggest love languages and he buys a pair of earbuds specifically so that he and Joshua can both wear one to listen to music together.

-> their most common date is going for ramen and then wandering Shibuya to people watch and check out new street art. their second most common date is a movie in (which usually just turns into a nap tbh).

and under the cut are just a couple spicier headcanons

-> Joshua is such a fucking bottom. He is a bratty sub who loves when Neku takes control of him.

-> Neku is a bit more uncertain, but does find he enjoys how excited Joshua gets when he's dominated, and starts to find it enjoyable too.

-> they definitely dabble in some BDSM

[mydearsnooopy]

𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝐬𝐭: 𝙷𝙾𝚃 𝙶𝙸𝚁𝙻 𝙵𝙰𝙻𝙻 𖥻 ⠀ᰋ ~ !? 🥮𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆

─────────────────────୨ৎ──────────────────

September 1st is the true launchpad for new beginnings. Whether it's the start of a new academic year or a renewed mindset for chasing excellence, September 1st kicks off what we're officially dubbing "Hot Girl Fall"

September doesn’t just mark the transition from summer to fall—it’s a complete reset. The end of vacation mode means a renewed focus on goals, routines, and all those dreams you’ve been nurturing.

1. set clear goals 🧋౨ৎ ˖ ࣪ Hot Girl Fall is all about growth, so start by setting goals that are important to you. Whether it’s academic, finishing a creative project, or learning a new skill, give yourself something to chase. Break your goals into smaller, achievable steps, and celebrate your progress along the way. (I will make a post abt reward ideas)

Tip: Create a vision board or digital collage for some visual inspiration to keep you motivated!

2. elevate your style this season 🥮౨ৎ ˖ ࣪ Fall fashion is the ultimate combination of cozy and chic. This is the season for layers, textures, and statement accessories. Invest in a few key pieces that you like. Consider leaning into trends that resonate with you— (I suggest looking up some styles on Pinterest) Recently, I have been loving the academic/preppy chic autumn outfits and the dark academia aesthetic.

Tip: Don't just follow trends; find pieces that express your personality. Mix in some timeless classics for a balanced look.

3. self-care 🍂౨ৎ ˖ ࣪ Being a "hot girl" isn't just about looking good—it’s about feeling good. As the days get shorter and cooler, make sure you're staying active and eating well. A little self-care goes a long way in keeping your mind and body balanced during this busy season. This is also a great time to focus on mental health, whether through meditation, journaling, or therapy.

Tip: Try creating a new fall wellness routine—maybe morning stretches or pilates, afternoon walks in nature, or weekly self-care nights with skincare and a good book.

4. organize your space to boost productivity 🚬౨ৎ ˖ ࣪ With September comes a new focus on work and personal goals. Take some time to declutter and organize your space, whether that’s your desk, closet, or digital files. A clear environment can lead to a clearer mind, allowing you to focus better and feel more at peace in your everyday life.

Tip: Implement simple systems like a daily planner, productivity apps, or dedicated time blocks to keep your tasks organized without overwhelming them.

5. embrace seasonal changes 🍁౨ৎ ˖ ࣪ Fall offers some of the most beautiful landscapes, so make sure to soak it in. Whether it’s a hike, a walk in the park, or just sitting with a cozy drink while watching the leaves fall, spending time outdoors can help you reset and ground yourself. Nature has a calming effect and can inspire new ideas, so use it as a creative escape when needed.

Tip: Get Outside & Enjoy Nature, you can even start a nature journal / sketchbook !

6. autumn mornings 🌟౨ৎ ˖ ࣪ Autumn mornings bring a cozy, refreshing vibe that can inspire a productive and peaceful start to your day. Establishing a consistent morning routine sets the tone for the day ahead and helps you feel more grounded as the season shifts. Start by taking a few deep breaths and thinking of one thing you’re excited about for the day—this positive intention will help you get moving.

Tip: Craft an Autumn morning routine that works for you !

6. homework and boost in productivity 🪶౨ৎ ˖ ࣪

Homework can feel overwhelming, especially when you’re balancing it with extracurriculars and social activities. Designate a spot for homework, whether it’s a desk, a library, or a quiet corner at home. Keep your workspace organized with all your supplies on hand—this minimizes interruptions and keeps you focused.

Start by listing all your assignments and prioritizing them based on deadlines and difficulty. Break large tasks into smaller, manageable chunks, and schedule specific time blocks for each task. Use a planner, to-do list, or digital app to stay on top of assignments. By having a plan in place, you avoid last-minute cramming and unnecessary stress.

Instead of scrolling on social media during breaks, do something that refreshes you mentally and physically. Stretch, take a short walk, grab a snack, or chat with a friend. Active breaks re-energize you without the risk of falling into procrastination traps.

7. caffeine for energy and focus🪶౨ৎ ˖ ࣪

Autumn calls for cozy beverages, and for many of us, that means indulging in caffeinated drinks like coffee, tea, or chai. Caffeine can be a helpful tool for boosting energy and focus—if used wisely.

Try not to rely on caffeine first thing in the morning; allow your body to wake up naturally. Have your coffee or tea about 1-2 hours after waking when your natural cortisol levels dip. This maximizes the effectiveness of the caffeine and prevents jitters or dependence.

8. reading more this fall🕯️౨ৎ ˖ ࣪

There’s no better time than fall to get lost in a good book. The cool weather and cozy atmosphere make it perfect for curling up with a blanket and diving into a novel, memoir, or educational read. Start by setting a realistic reading goal for the season—whether it’s reading one book a month, finishing a certain number of pages a day, or diving into a new genre.

Keep a book or e-reader with you at all times, whether you’re commuting, waiting in line, or relaxing during a break. Instead of reaching for your phone, get lost in a story. You’ll be surprised by how much extra reading you can squeeze into your day this way! (I love reading at libraries and on public transportation.)

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As the crisp autumn air settles in, let this season be your time to reset, refocus, and thrive. Whether it’s building a morning routine, staying on top of your homework, or creating a cozy atmosphere, remember that Hot Girl Fall is all about balance.🌟

[talesofesther]

discover the beauty

Sylvie x Reader

Summary: Sylvie doesn't quite understand what you make her feel, or what she should do about it. All she knows is that you've brought a warmth to her life that had been long lost. So when you ask her to spend Christmas with you, how could she ever say no?

A/N: This is, or was supposed to be, a quick and sweet lil story with my favorite lady to give her the Christmas she deserves. Naturally, I got a little (a lot) carried away. I also feel like my writing turned out rather different in this, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. <3

Word count: 6k

Masterlist

You were not something she expected to have. Sylvie may even go as far as saying you were not something she wanted to have. Not in the beginning, at least.

It was a normal day at work the first time she saw you. During a late afternoon, with golden rays of a setting sun seeping through the windows of McDonald's. You walked in with a backpack hanging from one shoulder and the ghost of a smile on your lips. You ordered a burger and fries accompanied by an orange juice, a combination Sylvie didn't serve too often. You thanked her with an even wider smile and sat on one of the tables closest to the window. You finished eating and didn't leave, instead, you pulled a sketchbook from your backpack and started scribbling something down. All the while that you stayed, Sylvie could feel your eyes on her from time to time.

A routine started then. You'd come by almost every day, at the same time, make the same order, sit at the same table, and pull out the same sketchbook. And it went on for weeks.

There was something about you that Sylvie couldn't put her finger on, something that stole her focus and forced her to recount the change at least twice when you were around. Your presence carried an aura of calmness, being around you was easy, and talking to you felt like breathing.

Slowly, order by order, you and Sylvie grew closer. Slowly, Sylvie started to expect your presence at the end of each day.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Today was a Thursday, a day you usually stopped by. When the clock on the wall hit 4 PM, Sylvie found herself stealing glances at the main doors. Sometimes she'd chastise herself for the childish behavior, after all, why should she care if you stop by or not?

A cold breeze came in through the open windows. Sylvie leaned on the counter beside the cash register, looking out onto the parking lot; it was covered in a thin layer of white. The snow had slowly and thinly started falling just a few days ago, announcing the definitive arrival of winter and the ever-approaching festivities of the end of the year—as did the obnoxious Christmas decorations scattered all around the inside of the fast food place.

She had heard her colleagues here talking about it, Christmas, and from what Sylvie gathered it was a time for celebration and gifts, a time to spend with loved ones. When the matter came up in conversation, Sylvie hid in the corners, making herself look busy and distracted with anything she could think of. She didn't want to answer the casual questions of where she'd be spending her Christmas at, who she'd be spending it with. She didn't want to admit she had no one at all and would likely spend the night at a bar, alone.

The sound of the door being pushed open brought Sylvie back to reality, she looked up only to see you walking in, with your backpack on one shoulder and bundled up in a hoodie with a jacket on top to chase away the cold.

It was new to her, the fluttering in her stomach whenever she saw you and the warmth on her cheeks whenever you smiled at her. Everything was new. Sylvie didn't know what to do with the feelings you brought to her. It's not like she had many of those when jumping through apocalypses.

Your eyes met hers and your smile was instant, you adjusted your hold on your backpack as you approached the counter. Your greeting came in the form of a question; "Why is it that good things always have to hurt a little?"

Sylvie raised an eyebrow at you, an amused smile of her own fighting its way to her lips. Her fingernails tapped the counter softly. There were small flakes of snow hanging onto your hair, your clothes, glittering under the artificial lights; why did they make you look prettier still?

"The snow," You nodded toward the big windows behind you, "So beautiful yet so unforgivingly cold, isn't it?"

A low hum went past Sylvie's lips, she shrugged with a teasing smirk. "I don't know, I don't think it's that cold."

You huffed, already familiar with the statement yet baffled all the same, "That's because you're a special case I'm still trying to figure out."

She narrowed her eyes at you, her voice just a tad lower, "Good luck with that."

You avoided her eyes and nodded softly, smile lingering on your features. You leaned your elbows on the counter then, hands coming to stay just inches away from Sylvie's. She wondered what it would feel like to touch you.

Sylvie cleared her throat, promptly chasing away the thought. She grabbed her notepad and pen, her customer service voice making an appearance; "The usual?"

"Uh yeah," you sounded just a tad disappointed. As Sylvie wrote down your order, you leaned just a bit forward and closer to her, pursing your lips before saying; "So, any plans for Christmas?"

The pen in Sylvie's hand gave a sudden and rather forceful scratch, nearly tearing the paper. She halted, intently glaring at the out-of-place line that was now written on top of the word 'fries'. She held the silence for a moment longer, her jaw set tightly in place. For the first time in a long time, she hesitated. "… No."

A soft frown came to your features. You didn't ask, but the question was there.

"I'll probably just sleep in," Sylvie glanced up at you with her lips pressed together in a smile that looked a little too forced. She didn't give you time to answer. "Your order will be ready in a minute." She informed you, before turning around to fiddle with the ice cream machine she had already organized this morning.

Two minutes later, your order was ready. You mumbled a gentle 'thank you' to Sylvie before making a beeline to your usual table near the windows.

It was a little pathetic, really—you thought to yourself as you munched your burger—how quickly you became infatuated with the pretty attendant from your local McDonald's. Sylvie had captured your attention since the first day you walked in and said your order to her. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. But there was something else there, something about her eyes and the way she carried herself and interacted with others, that gave away the impression that she had lived a thousand lives, seen a thousand worlds, and now carried the weight of it.

Sylvie was, what you liked to call, an artist's utopia. The perfect muse. Everything about her was screaming to be written down in novels and painted to be hung in a museum. Her genuine smiles whenever she delivered a random order as well as the closed-off and tense ones whenever her colleagues crowded her. The prideful way she'd glance at her name plastered on the employee of the month display as well as the melancholic look in her eyes when she climbed in her truck at the end of the day. Each part of her seemed to tell a story bigger than anything you could fathom.

And that, was simply something you couldn't bring yourself to ignore. It started as a mere sketch of her serious expression on the first day you noticed her. And then you came back, once, twice. And it evolved into her being the biggest constant in your sketchbook. There were scribbles of her profile, her back, sometimes just her eyes or hands, smiles and frowns. Each piece of her as seen by your eyes, now eternal, shaped by the grey lines of your pencil.

Whatever could you do, after all? She was enchanting.

In the end, it was expected that she would become quite familiar with you, given how much you stop by. But you were pleasantly surprised to realize that you two clicked rather well. You'd go as far as calling her a friend now.

And today, you noticed the hints of sorrow that always danced in her expressive eyes making a more vivid appearance. Maybe that's the reason why you threw caution to the wind.

When you finished your meal, you picked up your backpack and promptly walked towards the counter Sylvie stood behind. Deciding that if you waited, your courage would most likely vanish.

She perked up when she noticed you coming towards her, a mix of confusion and expectancy painting her features. Her posture straightened as she reached for the notepad, expecting another order.

You cleared your throat, unable to properly meet her gaze and choosing to fiddle with the pen lying around in front of her. "You know, my family lives a few hours from here and I don't plan on driving there this year." Glancing up at Sylvie, you had to hold back a smile at the sight of her adorable frown. "So, I was thinking… Maybe, if- if you want," you held her gaze, words heavy on your tongue, "We could spend Christmas together." It came out more like a question than anything else. You bit the inside of your cheek, and waited.

Sylvie breathed in sharply, her shoulders tensing. Her eyes shifted from one side to the other, as if looking for an answer around the vicinity. For excruciatingly long seconds, she said nothing. And you were already thinking of a half-assed excuse to give her an out when she finally spoke.

"Okay." You'd never heard her voice this small. "I'd like that," she smiled then, it was a sweet, little thing, barely a stretch of lips; but it warmed your heart like nothing else could.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

The day before Christmas arrived both too soon and too late. Sylvie woke up this morning and her first thought of the day, as she still lay in bed, was you. And how she would be meeting you at McDonald's just like every day before, but today there was a break in the pattern; she would be leaving with you. Together.

Sylvie had reluctantly agreed to spend the night at your place when you insisted Christmas morning was the most special and crucial part of the holiday. Yet now, as the day finally was upon her, she began to wonder if she'd dug her own grave. Because her stomach twisted with the mere thought of it, her body felt all warm and fuzzy knowing she'd be spending so much time by your side, and her heartbeat skyrocketed knowing she'd be waking up the next morning only for you to be the first one she sees.

As Sylvie drove to work, she couldn't help but admit that this whole Christmas thing gave the town a rather pleasant look. Several decorations in bright red, golden, and green could be spotted in every corner of the town; string lights were a must in most buildings and houses; and inside each store at least one small Christmas tree was present.

While stopped at a red light, Sylvie's mind wandered to one specific aspect of the tradition. Gift giving.

Should she get you a gift? Did she want to?

She had never given or received any gifts. She wasn't sure if the two of you were close enough for it to be acceptable.

She gulped, grip tightening on the steering wheel. Her gaze roamed around the stores nearby and people walking on the snowy sidewalks. Just in case.

And a little further down the street, in a small corner beside a bakery, Sylvie spotted a retail store.

It wouldn't hurt to take a look, she decided.

The selection of items inside the store was… less than pleasing. They weren't bad in on themselves, but as Sylvie browsed the racks of hoodies and sweatpants and t-shirts, she felt that nothing seemed right. In her eyes, nothing particularly suited you and nothing was good enough.

A sigh went past Sylvie's lips as she ran a hand through her hair, messing it up more than it already was. She felt lost, out of place in her own skin. The few people around her were minding their own business, eyes fixed on the clothes they were after. Yet she couldn't help but think they were watching her.

She didn't know how to do this. Any of it. She didn't know what it was that you made her feel; she didn't know how to act around you without looking like this was her first shot at a normal life; she didn't know how to buy a damn gift for you.

Her mind started spiraling and she second-guessed her decision to ever say yes to all of this.

Sylvie was about to bolt out of the store and come up with some excuse about not being able to join you, when her eyes caught sight of a green and golden scarf. It was hung by itself and looked rather out of place amidst the t-shirts beside it.

Sylvie made a beeline for it, instantly reaching out to run her fingers through the soft fabric. It was comfortable to the touch, dark green wool woven with specks of details in gold; carefully made, not a string in the wrong place.

Carefully, Sylvie took it fully in her hands. This is it, she decided with a faint smile. This is perfect. You were always complaining about being cold, after all.

She walked up to the cashier with a newfound confidence, holding tight onto the precious scarf. "It's a gift," she stated rather proudly, "How do I do this?"

The woman behind the counter looked less than pleased to be working on Christmas Eve, she raised an unamused eyebrow at Sylvie; "You want it wrapped?"

Sylvie hesitated for a beat, and then recalled the many customers she had served who held bags themed with reindeer, Santas, and the like, all carrying wrapped gifts inside. It seemed to be the appropriate decision. "Yes."

After her detour for gift shopping, the day went about as normal as it could. Sylvie got to work barely on time, parked her truck in her usual spot, served a few customers, and watched as thin snowflakes fell from the sky. It wasn't a busy day, only a few and far in between walked in to grab a lunch, and most of them took it in a to-go bag.

When the clock hit 4 PM, however, Sylvie grew restless. She would be leaving earlier today, and you would be stopping by any minute now.

"Ah, almost time to leave," Carla, one of Sylvie's colleagues and one of the few who'd also agreed to work at this time of year, sighed from her place on the other side of the counter.

"Yep," Sylvie mumbled, her eyes fixed on the parking lot outside.

"Can't wait to not come to work tomorrow," Carla chuckled, "Gonna be spending the day with my kids." She smiled to herself and turned to look at Sylvie properly; "You got any plans, Sylvie?"

The enchantress' instinct was to deflect the question with something else, but her lips hovered and she found herself being engulfed in a foreign emotion. "Yes," she breathed, "I do." The soft smile on her lips held more sentiment than she cared to admit.

A gush of wind washed over her then, making her hair flow. She looked towards the entrance and saw you standing between the open doors. A familiar smile crinkled the sides of your eyes and you raised a gloved hand in a timid wave.

"And she just arrived," Sylvie spoke, more to herself than to her colleague, words dripping with something akin to adoration. She took off her hat, picked up her checkered trenchcoat from the back, and bid Clara goodbye before walking up to you.

"Hey," you greeted her, burying your hands in the pockets of your jacket. Voice sweet as honey and cheeks pink from the cold. "You ready to go?"

It scared her, that you could so easily strip her of her defenses. Her muscle memory sometimes urged Sylvie to hold onto the handle of a sword that wasn't there. If only to feel some sense of security.

She gulped, wriggling the ends of her sleeves between her fingers. This warmth, these colors you'd unintentionally brought to her life—she never realized how much she craved it until you came along.

Maybe she doesn't need her defenses anymore.

"Yeah."

With that, Sylvie climbed into her truck and you followed, giving her the instructions that led to your house. The drive was comfortable, the weight of your presence beside her, surprisingly, didn't throw her off; on the contrary, it felt like you belonged there—talking about the upcoming snowstorm of tonight and pointing out the blinking lights you passed by.

Your home turned out to be exactly as Sylvie expected it to be. Two trees stood tall in front of the small house made of dark wood, several string lights were hung all over the porch, and there was a Santa plushie peering through the window. The inside was all warm and homey, each nook and cranny of your house exuded comfort and peace.

You took off your jacket, haphazardly throwing it over the couch, and kicked off your shoes. "Please, make yourself at home," you gestured around with a wide smile. "I'm gonna make some hot chocolate to warm up, would you like one?"

With her heart in her mouth, after a lifetime of living in cold, apocalyptic worlds, Sylvie allowed herself to be enveloped by the warmth. The blinking lights of the Christmas tree in your living room danced over her skin; in her wildest dreams, she'd dreamt of this. Tears prickled her eyes.

A gentle touch brushed her fingers, and Sylvie held her breath. She glanced down to see your fingers hesitantly hooking around hers. You'd noticed the crumbling walls around her—Sylvie didn't mind. Your touch raised goosebumps on her skin. She held you tighter, "I'd love one."

You led her to the kitchen, talking about the bathroom at the end of the hall and the guest bedroom she'd be staying at, only letting go of her hand when you had to start preparing the two mugs of hot chocolate. "I'm glad you agreed to come here," you spoke casually, keeping your back to Sylvie as you skimmed around the kitchen. "I was- I was afraid you'd think I was weird for asking."

Sylvie chuckled, bashful eyes looking down at her hands. Her heart wanted to jump from her chest. She bit her lip, wondering if it would be too foolish to admit what it meant. "I was glad you did," she confessed quietly, both to you and herself. "I'd be alone otherwise."

Your movements halted, and after a beat of silence, you glanced at her over your shoulder. "I would too."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Hours went by like minutes. Chocolate wraps and a half-empty bottle of wine were now discarded on your coffee table. Somewhere along the late hours of the night, you and Sylvie ended up bundled together on your couch under a blanket, sharing stories and laughing to your heart's content as if you'd known each other for years.

You'd lost count of how many embarrassing childhood memories you'd already spilled for her, all so you could hear that laugh of hers again and again. She was beautiful like that. With the warm glow of your fireplace highlighting her features, the shape of her smile, and the strands of her hair. You did your best to capture this exact image of her in your mind, so you could put it on paper later.

Sylvie lay on one side of the couch while you occupied the other, her legs were tangled with yours under the blanket. Maybe this wasn't just a mere infatuation, you mused to yourself, drinking in the spark of her eyes and the weight of her body on yours.

She leaned her head on the back of the couch, looking at you as her smile faded from a wide grin to a soft tilt of lips. She had the look of someone who just discovered something magical. You couldn't help but think you weren't too different.

Her very presence was like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. Her melodic voice was the last thing you heard before drifting off to a light slumber, dreaming of warm colors and bright eyes.

It was a ten, maybe fifteen-minute thing. One of those naps that catch you by surprise when you're engulfed in comfort.

You woke with the feeling of the couch moving beside you and then heard the sound of pages being carefully turned. The blanket still rested comfortably over your body and the fireplace still cracked with a low flame. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you came to only to be greeted with the sight of Sylvie sitting by your side, with your sketchbook in her hands.

You inhaled sharply and held the air in your lungs, bunching up the edges of your blanket in your hands. Suddenly wide awake. You could vaguely recall forgetting the book on top of the kitchen table this morning.

Her hands held the book almost reverently, delicate fingertips tracing the lines that shaped sketches of her. They were fairly endless and now that you watched as she turned the pages, you realized there were more than what you accounted for. The dark graphite on paper outlined her hair, her eyes, her lips; and Sylvie herself gazed down at the drawings with her lips parted and eyes glazed over.

You gulped, with any possible words stuck in your throat. Would she be mad? creeped out? Maybe never want to speak with you again?

You knew that she knew you were awake already, yet for long moments, Sylvie held the silence. Her lower lip twitched at each new image of her that she discovered in your book. It almost looked like she was holding her breath too.

Gripping tightly onto your book, Sylvie finally looked up at you again; "Did you… make these?" It was nothing but a breath, almost as if she was afraid of the answer.

You merely nodded, avoiding her eyes.

Sylvie breathed in, it sounded a lot like a sniffle. She pursed her lips, looking down at the book and then back at you. "Why?"

You cocked your head to the side, focusing past your thundering heart and on the soft curve of her eyebrows and the way her bright eyes reflected the orange flames of the fireplace—they glimmered, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say it was because there were tears there.

"I uh-" Your voice stumbled, and you cleared your throat to compose yourself. "You were… captivating ever since the first time I saw you. I thought that- that there was a lot of beauty and…" You bit your lip, hesitating. "And a lot of sadness, in you. And I just… wanted to capture it. I couldn't help it, I'm sorry."

A gentle smile came to Sylvie's lips, there were too many emotions swimming behind her eyes for you to put your finger on any of them. "You think I'm…" her words were quiet, private. Her fingers fiddled with one of the pages. "I'm beautiful?"

You opened your mouth to answer just as your gaze caught sight of the window that led to your porch. Outside, you could see the heavy snow falling from the sky. A soft gasp went past your lips, "The snowstorm is starting." You threw the blanket off your lap and ran to your door, haphazardly putting on your boots before yanking the door open and rushing outside.

The snowflakes clouded the dark horizon of the night, falling rapidly like summer rain and collecting on the streets in a white blanket. The lone lamposts cast a golden light on the increasing snowfall, if you pretended enough, it almost looked like specks of magic. The snow had always fascinated you. Despite the chilling cold it brought, you always waited eagerly for the first real snowfall of the year.

You stood in the open space of your yard, looking up at the sky and watching as cold stars fell upon your skin and clung to your clothes.

Slow footsteps that crunched the snow captured your attention. You turned around and saw Sylvie joining you, her eyes were wide in amazement as she watched the white flakes cascading down from the sky. She raised a hand to try and catch the snow, carefully so, as if the natural phenomenon could scare easily.

The snow kissed her pink cheeks and landed on her gently outstretched hand, it surrounded her as if it chose to fall tonight only so her eyes could witness, touching her with delicacy, all intimate and tender as some of the flakes melted on her. You were envious of their privilege. A breathless chuckle escaped Sylvie, and her gaze turned to you. There was a near child-like excitement glinting in her pupils and it was enchanting.

You watched as the faded light of the street lamps outlined her body, as the snowflakes clung to her eyelashes and brought a smile to her lips. The world around you blurred at the edges; there was only her and the snow. "Beautiful," you simply breathed, not an ounce of doubt in your words.

Sylvie blinked multiple times, her smile fading yet the shine in her eyes increasing tenfold. The air was suddenly charged with electricity, warm under the cold weather. Sylvie's lips parted, and you thought you saw her glancing down at your lips.

You chanced a step closer, and then another, running your tongue over your bottom lip. One of your hands brushed hers, while the other came up to tuck strands of blonde hair behind her ear.

Sylvie gripped your hand as soon as she felt your touch, as if you could disappear with the snow at any second.

"More than beautiful." The increasing wind nearly carried your voice away. You traced the outline of Sylvie's jaw with your thumb, the same one you'd traced with your pencil countless times before. "I don't think I could ever tire of drawing you."

There was no time for you to react before Sylvie took hold of your cheeks with both hands and pulled you in. Her lips crashed with yours with an unexpected delicacy. She came closer until her bare feet stood between your boots and her chest was flush with yours, as if no amount of closeness was close enough.

Her kiss was tentative and almost shy in a way, the softest lips moving in tandem with yours like they belonged together. You gripped her waist, onto the fabric of her plaid pajama shirt that you thought looked oh so adorable on her as soon as you saw her change into it.

With your eyes closed, all you could feel were Sylvie's warm touch and gasps that you kissed away, a striking contrast to the cold snowflakes falling onto your skin and melting between each stolen kiss. You wouldn't have it any other way.

Sylvie's fingers buried in the hair at the nape of your neck, she pulled away only a fraction of a second, bumping her nose with yours to fill her lungs with only the amount of air enough to get her lips back on yours. Surrendering herself to the moment, to you.

Your fingertips sneaked beneath her shirt, gingerly brushing against the skin of her hip. Sylvie shivered under your touch. Her lips tasted like chocolate and wine, all sweet and addictive.

When she pulled away, Sylvie refused to go far. Her doe eyes were swimming in a sea of adoration, almost pleadingly so. You tugged her closer still, placing a lingering kiss on her forehead. It felt like a promise, the world frozen in place to hold the moment.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

When Sylvie woke up the very next morning, she wasn't sure if it had been a dream or not. Golden rays of sunlight seeped through the window and made the snow outside shine like glitter. Sylvie touched her lips with the tip of her fingers, the memory felt almost too perfect to be real. But then again, she doubted her subconscious would ever gift her with such a blessing over the night.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Sylvie glanced at the package resting on top of the bedside table. She had been extra careful for it to not be crumpled or torn, it still looked perfect.

She ran a hand through her hair and rubbed the sleep from her eyes before getting up and walking to the window. The streets, sidewalks, and yards all around were covered in a thick layer of white snow, glistening under the sun. It was Christmas morning, and Sylvie was stalling.

Apprehension and nervousness twirled in her stomach wildly, she wasn't used to this. What if you regretted it? What if she had crossed a line?

The clattering of plates coming from the kitchen pulled Sylvie out of her mind. You were already awake.

Taking in a deep breath to steady herself, Sylvie forced her feet to move. She picked up her wrapped gift, and turned the door handle.

Immediately, Sylvie was engulfed by the smell of cinnamon and chocolate, it weaved through the air like a warm hug, making her close her eyes and inhale deeply. The enchantress couldn't help but allow her nose to guide her towards the kitchen, wood boards creaking under her bare feet and stripes of sunlight coming through the windows and shining against her pajamas as she walked.

The radio was on and you were humming along with the song playing, with your back turned to her as you worked on something on top of the counter, your hips swaying softly and hair pulled up in a haphazardly done bun. The window beside you was open, allowing for the cold breeze to come in, along with the morning sun rays, bathing your kitchen in an array of warm colors.

Sylvie's heart was in her throat, she bit her lip until she nearly tasted blood. There was a sting in her eyes as she looked at you as if she'd just realized what love felt like, what life was all about.

As you turned around, with your lower lip between your teeth and focused solely on the two mugs of hot chocolate in your hands so you wouldn't spill anything, Sylvie decided that she could get used to this. Actually, she would have a very hard time ever waking up without it. Without you.

When you noticed her standing before you, holding the wrapped gift between her hands as if her life depended on it, a huge smile broke into your lips and you lit up like the Christmas tree in your living room.

"Sylvie!" You exclaimed her name as if you'd been waiting the whole morning to say it. You left both mugs on the table and didn't waste a second before rushing to her. Sylvie barely had time to move your gift away before your body collided with hers. You hugged her tightly, bunching the fabric of her shirt between your fingers. "Merry Christmas," you whispered against her skin.

A breath Sylvie didn't realize she'd been holding went past her lips as she enveloped her arms around you, burying her nose in your hair and savoring the feeling of you. "Merry Christmas."

When you pulled away, Sylvie's cheeks were dusted pink and it had nothing to do with the cold. She avoided your gaze, looking down at the package in her hands instead. Tracing the wrapping with her thumbs, she said; "Um- I bought you this…" It almost sounded like a question, as if she wasn't sure this was the right way to go about it.

"You got me a gift?"

There was a waver in your voice that made Sylvie look up at you, only to be greeted with the sight of your eyes shining with… could it be love?

Sylvie tried to mimic your smile, as much as her nerves would allow. She nodded, pushing the gift into your hands.

You took it as if it was made of gold, hugging it to your chest. "Thank you," you breathed, before leaning in to land a peck to the corner of Sylvie's lips.

The gesture brought goosebumps up and down Sylvie's spine, and she watched with bated breath as you carefully tore open the wrapping at last. Your mouth hung open as you pulled out the scarf, tones of green and golden molding between your fingertips. You felt over the fabric, with your eyes drinking in every detail of it, until you promptly hooked the scarf around your neck and nuzzled in it; "I absolutely love it!" Your eyes crinkled on the sides because of your smile.

Sylvie's heartbeat stumbled, she reached up to trace the green fabric until her fingertips found the skin of your jaw. "It suits you."

"Oh, I just remembered," you told her suddenly and took hold of her hand so you could pull her to the living room. You dragged Sylvie to stand before your Christmas tree, and under it, rested a single box wrapped in green and red paper decorated with little Santas. "It's for you," your voice was as timid as Sylvie's had been as you pointed to the lone box.

Sylvie blinked and turned to you, squeezing your hand to make sure you were real. "You got me a gift?" She couldn't remember the last time someone had gotten her anything.

You pursed your lips and nodded, almost bouncing on your stance from excitement. "Of course. Come on, open it."

A breathless chuckle went past Sylvie's lips, and she knew right then and there, on this peaceful Christmas morning beside you, that she was a goner. She crouched down and unwrapped the box, prying it open with utmost care. From inside it, she pulled a crumple of white, green, and golden fabric. Much like the scarf she had given you, it was meticulously sewn together with a soft and comfortable wool.

Her chest felt all tight and warm with an emotion she could barely contain within herself. Standing up and stretching the fabric, Sylvie realized that it was a sweater, decorated with reindeer and Christmas trees. Peering around it and to you, she could clearly see you were holding back a grin.

"We'll be matching!" You exclaimed, clasping both your hands together.

Without a second thought, Sylvie pulled the sweater over her pajama shirt, closing her arms around herself and raising her shoulder as the soft fabric enveloped her. "It's perfect." She decided.

A soft laugh went past your lips and you raised a hand to Sylvie's hair, straightening the strands she had messed up. Your fingers brushed over the soft, blonde strands, until they fell to her shoulder and then found her hand, intertwining your fingers together.

Sylvie basked in the silence of the moment, in the feeling of your skin touching hers, of the comforting weight of your presence. She closed her eyes and gripped your hand tighter, gulping back a sudden wave of tears. From a lifetime of living in worlds on the edge of destruction, she'd found her little piece of paradise, all on her own. And she'd keep it close to heart until the end of her days.

The thumb of your free hand brushed her cheek, drying a drop of wetness there. The single tear that had fallen past her defenses. Sylvie looked at you and expected to see confusion or even judgment, but she only found care and adoration.

You brought your intertwined hands to your lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles; "I made us hot chocolate, what do you say?"

Sylvie's answer came in the form of a kiss of her own, to your lips instead.

Perfect.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Sylvie’s taglist:@milkiane @v1ci0us

[marigolddove]

Love Begins With Murder, Believe it or Not.

Part One

This is a request from @yandere-dark-cupid, I'm sure you intended for this to be a one-shot...buuuuut I got super carried away because I L O V E mafia/mob AUs. They're my favorite all around and I just couldn't help myself, especially when you said you wanted a sweet civilian that's my jam. So, yeah this is part One for now, I'm thinking this is gonna end up being 3 parts minimum with how it's going and I will tag you in all 3, thanks for the request it was so much fun to plan and write and I hope you're happy with it!

Warnings: Blood and violence at the start, bit of torture and mentions of murder. Only at the very start though.

💀♥️💀

     If Wally Darling could only choose two qualities he hates most in this world he would choose dishonesty and disloyalty. Both of which this sorry bastard strapped to a chair in his office have. Wally didn't need to watch to know Barnaby was doing his job and doing it well, making this insignificant waste of air scream and wheeze through his gag. 

     He had more important things to focus on anyhow, like his craft for one. Having grown bored of reading recent reports and approving deals with neighboring rival groups, he turned to what he really loved most: art. 

     Sure now it was only a hobby compared to his full time job of running his family, but in his younger years it was his passion; his reason to get out of bed each morning and breathe. He's become weary and disappointed by his lack of motivation and inspiration as of late. There was a time when no one could pull him away from an easel or a sketch book for hours; but now, even with the tension and emotions bouncing around the room from this well deserved "lesson" he couldn't fully immerse himself in his work.

     At a particularly loud and strangled cry from the now ex-member of his family, Wally growled and scribbled through his current piece so violently the paper ripped; then tossed the sketchbook and pencil haphazardly onto his desk. He finally turned his attention to Barnaby and his victim.

     Barnaby, having heard his friend's frustration through the gasping breaths of some no-name newbie who crossed Eddie and Frank, immediately fixed his attention onto Wally.

     "Everything alright boss?" 

     "Just peachy." Wally sneered sarcastically, clasping his hands tightly together on his desk, "I believe I'm now tired of our session, you can take him and finish this up elsewhere, please? Oh, and on your way out get Julie for me." 

     Barnaby immediately unstrapped the man from the chair and threw his weak, limp body over his shoulder, "Sure thing boss, I won't take up more of your time; but I'll be around if ya' need me." He moved to grab the bloodied and soiled chair, but stopped when Wally waved dismissively.

     "No need for that, leave the chair and the mess, I'll have someone else clean that. Thank you Barnaby, be safe." Barnaby nodded and with that left the now slightly dank office. 

     Now alone for a moment, Wally leaned back into his leather seat and sighed, typically he wouldn't have these sessions in his office but this had been a…special occasion. A heat of the moment call if you will. 

     You see, that man had been new to the family, very new. He had yet to learn just how important family really is to Mr. Darling, but when he put the lives of Eddie and Frank into danger well…now he knew. All could have been forgiven had he shown a bit of sympathy and care for his new found family, but all he seemed to care about was his wallet. Selling personal information about individual members of the family to rival groups or reporters, one of those stories being about Eddie and Frank.

     Wally has never frowned upon interpersonal relationships, in fact he had encouraged it. Afterall, love is a beautiful and wonderful thing and he was so pleased it had been found in his friends. It was just such a shame that others didn't seem to share his sentiments on the matter.

     Running a hand through his hair, he attempted to correct any loose curled strands that fell into his face and onto his ears during his episode moments before, using any residual hair product still in his hair to hold them back in place. He began to straighten his posture and his desk at the sound of heel'd footsteps against the hardwood floors of the hall outside his door.

     Soon in walked Julie, dressed in a very fine magenta three-piece suit, a black criss-cross bow tie, classic black heels and her hair curled and pinned back to perfection; jewelry accenting her manicured hands. Wally felt a swell of pride and admiration towards Julie's sense of confidence and style.

     "Well, don't you look fierce today my friend." He started warmly at her entrance, she beamed at his compliment; only briefly glancing at the bloody mess at the center of his office before seemingly losing interest and turning her attention back to him. 

     "I woke up feeling fierce, so I just had to go all out today," she states as she moves to stand in front of his desk, hands on her hips, "so," she glances at the distressed art book still on his desk, "Barnaby said you needed to see me?"

     "Yes, I just sent him to take care of that…problem we were having, and it occured to me that the problem had a romantic partner. A young woman by the name of…" he examined a note he wrote for himself, "Ah, Allison Forester."

     A look of understanding flashed across Julie's face, "You need me to take care of her?" She was surprised when he shook his head.

     "No, no that won't be necessary. Our message will be clear soon enough, and there was never any evidence she was involved in his little scheme." His face turned a bit sour at the end before reverting back to neutral, "No, I want to send her flowers as an apology for his mess and for my rash actions." He sounded anything but apologetic, in fact he smiled just a tiny bit when calling his actions 'rash'. 

     "Oh, okay, sure thing sir. Any types of flowers in particular?" She knew Wally was very detail oriented and wanted to be sure he was giving her full creative liberties. 

     He waved dismissively, "No, just something pretty, that's all for now. You're dismissed, be safe." Turning his attention back to the art book, Julie knew he was now ignoring her; but she didn't take it to heart, he never meant anything by it, that's just how he was. Quick and to the point, and once the point was over he was done with it entirely.

—————————

     Julie closed the office door behind her as she strutted her way back out into the main area of the building, the building they're in used to be strictly an office building, but since it fell into Wally's hands it was almost like an art studio where business happened to be held. He had completely renovated the building, still keeping some of the office spaces (not all of them were used as such however) but also turning part of the building into his own private home and space. They had more official places of business elsewhere, this one was just for comfort, for him to be himself. 

     Only the closest of family members were allowed to work here, the most trusted and beloved; because Wally does love them, even with his business facade and too-cool-for-you appearance she never doubted his love for her and the others. How could she when they're family?

     Julie decided she wouldn't leave until she could say goodbye to Frank and Eddie, they were her two closest friends in and out of the organization, and she knew that the recent news of betrayal had hit Frank hardest. Behind their serious and uncaring demnor hid a very emotional individual only she and Eddie really got to see. 

     It didn't take very long to find them and when she did she nearly hesitated, they were having a moment together and seemed to be having a very serious conversation. Together they sat on a velvet bench in front of a few art pieces Wally had completed, their fingers were interlocked as they faced once another. It seemed so pure and intimate, she nearly turned to leave until Eddie spotted her out of the corner of his eyes and offered her a soft smile and silently waved her over.

     When she reached the two she immediately pulled them both into a tight hug, "I'm so sorry, everything's gonna be okay, Wally will take care of this. I know he will." The two hugged her back just as tight.

     "Thank you, Julie. We're grateful for the support." Said Eddie, his southern charm as endearing as ever. She felt Frank nod against her shoulder and sniff a little.

     She pulled back and with as big of a smile as she could manage, Frank made it a little hard though, her poor friend's face was tear stained and eyes a bit redder than normal. They'd definitely been crying, and looking at Eddie she found unshed tears locked in his eyes and his face more flushed than usual. Good riddance to that idiot, whatever his name had been.

     She'd never been the violent or hateful sort, usually charasmatic and subtle, but if Wally or Barnaby had refused to do something about that guy…well, she had no doubts she would have taken him herself.

     "So where does Wally have you going?" Eddie asks, changing subject, a knowing look in his eyes. He was a sharp character, so she didn't have to ask how he knew Wally had given her a task.

     "I'm glad you asked, he's asked me to pick up flowers for a lady, I wanted your advice on a good shop for it. He wants them pretty." Eddie raised a brow at her and she chuckled, "Not that kinda lady, I'm afraid. It's for the…uh, girlfriend of the scum bag." 

     "I'm surprised he's sending her anything but a death threat." Frank says. 

     "Yeah, well boss says she didn't have nothin' to do with what went down. She's just a civilian caught up in it." 

     Frank nods while Eddie gets this excited look in his eyes, "Oh! I know just the place, hold on," he shifts and reaches into his back pocket to pull out a nice leather wallet, he takes out a small business card and hands it to Julie, "This place is really good at making bouquets, one of the employees there is a real charmer. Name's Y/N, (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair. They're an artist when it comes to flowers, I swear." He said with a bright smile on his face, before turning a bit sheepish as the tips of his ears turned red, "I, uh, used to go there a lot back when I would get flowers for Frank." He admits.

     Frank practically has hearts in their eyes as they gaze lovingly at Eddie and his bashful face, Julie giggles at how cute they are together. They truly deserved the happiness they found in one another.

     "Well then, this is where I'll go then! How can I say no when you give such a sparkling review?" She teases, looking over the card and memorizing the address before tucking it into her pocket, "If I tell them your name will I get a discount?" She joked, but suddenly Eddie got a look of realization on his face.

     "Ya know what? You actually might! Y/N owes me a bit of a favor, so you just tell her Eddie Dear sent ya and I'm sure she'll do something for ya." Both Julie and Frank gave him a questioning look so he continued, "There was a big ol' spider in there the last time I went, poor thing was absolutely terrified, sitting on the counter and staring at it. So, I killed it for them and they gave me an IOU, they wanted to give me my flowers for the day free of charge, but I refused." He explained with a shrug and a sweet smile.

     "Flowers probably won't be too expensive and it's on Wally's dollar so I'm not really worried about it, but I'll still tell them you said 'hi'." 

     "Please do!" 

     Julie turned to leave, but not before giving one more tight hug to Frank, rubbing their back soothingly. They return the hug just as tightly.

     "Be safe, and come back soon…I think I wanna talk to you alone later. I have a lot on my mind." Frank whispers into her ear, although Eddie might've heard it. He didn't speak on it. 

     She pats their back, "Sure thing, bestie." 

     With that she ends the hug and waved as she leaves the room, leaving the two as they embrace one another and continue speaking 'I love you's in hushed tones.

—————————

     The flower shop is only 15 minutes from Wally's "home", and even though she recognizes the strip its located in, she's certain she's never noticed the shop before. It's surrounded by restaurants and a bakery, but now that she's noticed it she can appreciate just how cute it looks. It's small and the sign is elegant while the actual building itself is colorful compared to the rest surrounding it. It's actually so colorful she wonders how she's never noticed it before.

     She enters the establishment with a ring from the bell hanging just above the door signaling her entrance, the inside is a bit more simple compared to the outside, mostly natural woods and white paint while the flowers brought the room to life with their vibrancy and colors. To her right she sees a (e/c) and (h/c) employee, just as Eddie had described.

     You jump up from a stool you had been sitting on behind the counter with the register. Greeting her with a bright, relaxed smile.

     "Oh! Hello, welcome, my name is Y/N. Is there any type of flower you're looking for in particular today?" 

     "Hello, my name is Julie. Julie Joyful, how do you do?" She asks cooly, approaching the counter and outstretching her hand, your smile somehow becomes even more dazzling at her introduction and greeting. 

     "I'm doing well actually, thank you for asking." 

     Julie reaches into her pocket and pulls out the business card holding it up, "I got your card from Eddie, he says hello and that you're quite the florist." You move out from behind the counter with a gasp, still smiling.

     "Oh! Eddie sent you? Does he need more flowers for that friend of his? I thought for sure he would've won them over by now!" You laugh.

     "Nope, he only recommended you, I'm here for another friend of mine actually." Julie corrects, a smirk growing on her lips, "Oh, and that friend has certainly been won over. They're so cute it's sickening." 

     "Oh I knew it! I had a good feeling about him, I don't always have a good feeling about every customer who comes in, but he was definitely one of the sweetest. Definitely a lot of love in his heart, for sure." You say as you approach a table next to the counter, readying some wrapping and bows/ties, "So, this friend of yours," you start with a lilt, "Are they a friend, or a friend." Julie laughs at your teasing insinuation.

     "A friend, and the flowers are actually for a funeral…kinda." You immediately drop a pair of scissors you pulled out of a drawer onto the table, turning with a look of horror on your face. 

     "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been so casual and I shouldn't ha–" Julie laughs, interrupting your hurried apology.

     "No worries, it wasn't anyone close to me or to him. It's more of a courtesy thing, I guess."

     A bit of color returns to your face as you visibly relax, realizing you hadn't offended Julie. Even so, next time no funny business!

     "Well is there any particular message you'd like to send using the flowers? Or do you just want a bundle of the same type of flower? White lilies are very popular for funerals, although they're also great for weddings and symbolize purity, and then there's marigold's. They're a bit deceiving, because while they look bright and sunny they really represent mourning and grief." 

     Julie took a moment to examine the flowers filling the room, "You can also just choose whatever is prettiest to you, all flowers have special meanings and can be a sentence all on their own, but not everyone cares too much for that as long as they're pretty." You continue, not focused on Julie so much as you browsed the flowers, mentally comparing combinations in your head. 

     "I'll let you decide, Eddie said you're like an artist when it comes to flowers, so I'll trust you know what you're doing." You hum in response to let Julie know you heard her.

     "You said the flowers aren't for anyone close, but are they a friend or family?" 

     "Family…kind of, I guess. They're for the girlfriend of a distant recently deceased family member."

     "Ah, so like you said, a courtesy bouquet."

     You take a moment to decide, then you immediately set to work, three types of flower should be enough, a short sweet message, "Coral rose, marigold and blue salvia." You say as you expertly cut the appropriate amount of each flower. 

     "What would that mean?" Julie asks, watching as you move the flowers to the table and clip leaves from the stems.

     "Coral roses can mean friendship and modesty, but in this case it means sympathy. Marigolds, as I said, mean mourning and grief; while blue salvia means 'thinking of you'." You explain softly as you arrange and wrap the flowers gently in a neutral paper; then finally tying it together with a matching cord. 

     "So essentially I'm trying to tell her: 'You're on my mind and I sympathize with your grief.' short and sweet." 

     Julie smiles as you turn around and hand her the finished bouquet, it's more colorful than she would've thought a mourning bouquet is supposed to look, but it is pretty just like Wally requested and it has the meaning, "Perfect!".

     You smile, pleased that she likes it, before moving behind the counter to ring her up; but then you remember that Eddie recommended her…you do owe him a favor. Maybe this was his favor?

     "So how much do I owe ya?" 

     "Nothing, it's on the house, this time."

     She looks up from the flowers to make eye contact, "You sure? They can't be that expensive, I don't mind paying, it's outta my buddy's wallet anyway." 

     "It isn't that expensive, which is why I don't mind letting this one go. It's for a good cause and I owe Eddie, I don't know if I'm calling this his one favor, but it's nice to do something nice for someone else." Julie smiles at your kindness.

     "How about I just pay half then? Just consider it a special discount." That sounded like good middle ground. 

     You agreed to her compromise, charging her only fifteen dollars, "Thank you for your business, have a wonderful day and I hope your friend approves of the flowers!" 

     Julie thanked you for your help and waved goodbye before leaving the store and returning to her vehicle, delicately carrying the bouquet.

I am already working on Part Two now!

[lildreamycyclone]

Requested by @starruix

Finally

(Wallmark fluff)

It was a quite cold, cloudy evening. Wallter was sitting on the white bench behind the fountain, scribbling the project of the new house in his sketchbook. It was his favorite place besides the cafe and his garden. It was quiet, peaceful and lovely. He could listen to the birds singing and the soothing sound of water in the fountain. He could focus on his projects and deep thoughts in a nice atmosphere, and nothing could go wrong… Right? "Brickboy?" Wallter flinched a little, when he heard the voice. He raised his head. Mark. The mannequin stood in front of Wallter, looking away, pretty nervous. He was hiding something behind his back. He turned his gaze to Wallter, smiling awkwardly and waving. What would the architect's ex-husband want from him? Wallter sighed, and put his sketchbook away. "What do you want?" he asked as politely as he could. "Well, there is somethin' i wanna give ya…" Mark mumbled, scratching his neck, with a little sweat on his temple. "Mark, i'm sorry, but i'm very busy right now…" Wallter said, with a strict look. Deep down, he felt bad for telling this tiny man, who was once his lover, to go away. However, Mark still wanted to show his gift. He gulped, and hestitantly reached behind his back… These were flowers. White flowers, tied with a ribbon, with a very delicate scent. Wallter gasped softly, looking at the posy Mark held. He stood up, and took a step towards his ex-husband. It was the very first time Mark gave him flowers, since he never got any. For all these years, Mark did not give Wallter even a one rose. Some people would say it was very ignorant, but he was just forgetful… Wallter could not believe his eyes. And Mark just stood, with big puppy eyes full of hope. They stood there, in complete silence. Wallter could feel some tears of emotion in his eyes. He took of his glasses and wiped these tears away. These flowers… These were white tulips, his favorites. Mark remembered that… "'M sorry that I never got ya 'em…" Mark muttered, with a little pink blush on his cheeks. "I always forgot…" Wallter's heart beated faster. Mark finally got him flowers. This adorable gesture proved Mark still cared about Wallter, he still had these feelings for him… "But well, I still got 'em for ya, darlin'… I still love ya, brickboy…" Mark's eyes shone. His words were sincere, for sure. Wallter felt shock and happiness at the same time. For all these years, he thought does not love Mark anymore. But still felt empty inside his heart, like there was one piece of his soul lost. He looked at his blue scarf on his neck. He wore it so often that he forgot Mark was the one who gave it to him… First anniversary gift… Without saying any more words, Wallter kneeled down and hugged Mark very tighly. He embraced Mark's muscular, tickset body, feeling it's warmth. He remembered how much he enjoyed the smell of wood… So what if he got splinters? All these love and feelings for Mark started to return slowly. Mark nuzzled onto Wallter's chest, with a blissful smile. They both hugged eachother for minutes, that felt like eternity. Mark wished it lasted forever. Wallter slowly leaned back from Mark after a while, but they still held their hands. Mark gently stroked Wallter's palm with his finger, with tenderness. "I missed ya…" he mumbled, with eyes glowing with love. The architect held the flowers, sniffling them. The birds were singing, like they celebrated the beginning of former lovers getting back togheter. Sometimes, it's good to forgive someone's past mistakes…

Ah yiss, first part of Wallmark Remarriage Saga >w<