#as soon as i figure out what the new one should be

[multific]

Dreams in Velvet Shadows

Count Orlok x Reader

Summary: In your loneliness, you called for him. And in your despair, you searched for him.

The dreams began when loneliness had taken hold of your heart, a gaping emptiness that refused to be filled.

In your dreams, he came to you.

A man with a haunting face and eyes as deep and dark as the shadows.

A man so haunting yet so beautiful.

He spoke in whispers, promising love, devotion, and a bond that would transcend everything.

“You will be mine,” he murmured one night, his voice smooth as velvet. “When you are ready, call to me, and I will come for you, My Beloved.”

But you couldn’t wait.

His promises stayed with you for the entirety of the day.

There was a pain in your heart, longing, which didn't disappear as the day went on.

You weren’t ready to wait, not when you could feel his pull even in waking hours. If he could come to you in dreams, surely, you could find him in the world of the living.

Your search began with whispers and legends, stories of a figure who resided in the ruin of a castle deep in the forest.

Though fear should have gripped you, all you felt was excitement.

Every step, you were closer and closer to him. So many sleepless nights finally paid off.

When you finally stood before the manor, the crumbling stone and overgrown vines felt like a sign of another world.

You were completely out of breath as your heart raced.

You entered the castle, the only light coming from the flickering candles you had brought.

You followed your heart and soon you found exactly what you have been looking for, an beautifully decorated coffin, carved with symbols you didn’t recognize.

The sun was setting as you looked out the window.

It was almost time for him to wake.

If you believed the words of the villagers, he awoke with the last rays of sunlight before crawling out of his coffin into the darkness.

You knelt before the coffin, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation and joy.

“I couldn’t wait any longer. You called to me in my dreams, but I wanted to be the one to come to you. To show you, I want to be with you, My Nosferatu.”

The room fell silent, except for the faint crackle of the candles and the wind outside.

The coffin’s lid shifted with a creak, and you held your breath.

When it opened fully, he was there, just as you had seen him in your dreams. From the deep dark eyes, to his thin yet still strong frame, he was tall.

His eyes found yours.

For a moment, his expression was unreadable. You thought it to be surprise.

Then, slowly, his lips curved into a faint smile.

“You,” he said, his voice richer and more resonant than in your dreams. “You came to me.”

“I couldn’t stay away. I’ve been searching for you. I’m ready to finally be only yours.”

He rose from the coffin, his movements fluid and deliberate. Standing before you, he towered over you as he reached out, his long fingers brushing your cheek.

“You are not afraid?”

“No, I have no reason to fear you. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

For a moment, you worried. He might not actually want you. Maybe it was a childish dream after all.

Then, Orlok knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You were always meant to be mine."

You made your vow as the new moon rose in the sky, and wolves howled in the grounds.

"I willingly vow myself to you. For as long as you will have me, even in my death." he stood before you as his fingers lifted your head.

"You are mine forever. Thy flesh, bones and soul belong to me," he whispered as you took a breath in, your lips opening slightly.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was both tender and possessive, a seal on the bond that would tie you to him forever.

You felt the pain of your loneliness fall away, replaced by a love that would never fade.

In his arms, you were no longer a dreamer longing for connection.

You were his, and he was yours, bound together by the eternal night.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[fake-mouthstatic]

moving in together

@bucktommyfluffebruary, day 9. rated G.

💕

"Okay, yeah. Thanks for letting me know."

Buck ends the call, staring blankly at his phone as he tries to figure out how he feels about the news that his apartment is habitable again.

He knows he should be happy.

And yet.

Buck hears the shower shut off and Tommy enters the room a few moments later, a towel wrapped low around his hips as his damp skin steams gently in the cool morning air.

"You okay?" he asks, frowning gently as he moves closer.

"My super just called," Buck says, finally tearing his gaze away from his phone. "My kitchen is done being repaired."

Buck doesn't miss the way Tommy's face goes carefully blank.

read the rest under the cut or on ao3 // other days here

"That's great," he says, turning away from Buck and towards the dresser.

"Yeah," Buck says evenly, flipping his phone nervously over and over in his hands.

The thing is, as unexpected as it was, he's loved living with Tommy the past three weeks.

Even before temporarily moving in, Buck had spent enough time at Tommy's place that it already felt like home, and that was before the fact that he loved coming home to Tommy, loved sleeping beside him every night and waking up beside him every morning, mismatched shifts notwithstanding.

He loved the silly things too, like seeing their shoes side by side in the hall. Brushing his teeth as Tommy showered. Arguing good-naturedly over how to load the dishwasher.

All the little, domestic things that Buck had worried it might be too soon for that had turned out to be his favourite things about living with Tommy.

Well, almost his favourite; the extremely frequent sex was a tough one to beat in that department.

He'd thought that Tommy felt the same about him being here but his carefully blank expression suddenly has Buck a little worried.

"So uh, I guess I can be out of your hair tomorrow," Buck says, thoughts gently spiralling; of course Tommy didn't want him here. "Once I finish work I can-"

"Or," Tommy interrupts, frowning as he turns around with a pair of socks in one hand and underwear in the other, "you could not."

It's Buck's turn to frown then.

"Not what, go to work?"

The corner of Tommy's mouth twitches as if he's holding back a smile.

"Not get out of my hair."

Buck doesn't reply, too busy trying not to let himself get too excited.

"Maybe I don't want you out of my hair," Tommy continues, waving his socks around. "In fact, maybe I kinda like having you in my hair."

Buck's heart flips a somersault in his chest as Tommy steps closer.

"Maybe I'd really like it if you didn't go back to your apartment and moved in here instead. Permanently," he adds, as if to make sure there's no confusion.

He looks adorably nervous, as if Buck would ever say anything but yes to such a suggestion.

"Yes," Buck says, a wide grin splitting his face. "Absolutely yes, I'll move in with you."

[louiseolivier]

Fluffebruary: Moving in Together

Written for @bucktommyfluffebruary

AO3 link

It was dark out and late, probably close to 10PM. All their friends and family had gone, leaving Buck and Tommy alone in their new home—a 90’s built split-level in a truly sickening shade of yellow. Unfortunately, painting the siding was low on the list of maintenance the house needed.

Buck had his stint in construction, and Tommy painstakingly renovated the Craftsman he recently sold for a small fortune, so a lot of it they could do themselves. What they wouldn’t fuck with was electrical, and the house needed a new A/C unit. Of course, it was the middle of July, and their choices were to wait a week for a crew to come out or pay what Buck considered grand larceny to bump their job up to priority. They stupidly chose the former.

Buck sat on the floor in front of the couch, keying in streaming passwords, and, WOW, was that a conversation he never thought he’d have.

“So, do we keep my Nexflix?”

“No. I’ve been with them since they were disc only.”

“Bu-but my recommendations.”

“Too bad.”

Tommy came in with the fan from their bedroom. “Oh, thank God!” Buck groaned and threw his head back, reveling in the blast of air as soon as Tommy turned it on. The doorbell rang, and he gave a punch of joy. The pizza had arrived. The first delivery to their home. Just in time, too, because Buck was ready to gnaw his arm off.

Tommy returned with the pies and unceremoniously plopped them onto Buck’s lap. He swung his leg over Buck’s shoulder and sat behind him on the couch. Buck handed Tommy the top pie, opened the one on his lap, and then they both closed their respective boxes and switched.

Buck hated onions, and Tommy hated green peppers, and both were sick of abstaining for the sake of the other. They could, and did once, order half and half, but it was impossible to not find a stray onion on Buck’s side or for the green peppers not to permeate the entire pie. Now, they each order their own. Which was no hardship, honestly.

They didn't keep their own Netflix accounts. Not at over $17 a month, they weren’t. They canceled and kept Tommy’s Hulu bundle and Buck’s Max account, but if they decided to resubscribe in the future, they would sign up with their email. The joint email their joint bills were sent, like the mortgage, gas, electric, and garbage. All the things Buck hadn’t had to deal with being a lifelong renter. It was freaking exhilarating!

Buck turned his head and kissed Tommy’s knee. He rubbed his stubble against it and then dug into his onionless pizza. “How’s your back?” he asked around a mouthful.

Tommy’s blunt nails scratched against his scalp, and Buck moved into it. “I’ll live. I thought about digging through the bathroom boxes for the heating pad, but it’s so hot, I’m sure you putting your hand against it would be just as good.” Buck snorted and then groaned, throwing his slice back into the box. “What’s wrong?” Tommy asked.

“This one wants the password. No QR code. And it’s one of yours, so it’s, like 20 characters,” Buck groused.

“Poor, baby,” Tommy cooed.

Buck gave a soft grin. He couldn’t see him, but just from his tone, Buck knew Tommy had his head tipped back, eyes closed, chewing absentmindedly. They were both exhausted, and all Buck wanted to do was start a movie and eat pizza with his partner. In their home.

“Hey, remember cable?” Buck asked. He pulled his phone close and tried to figure out if the next letter was an uppercase I or a lowercase l. “It was kind of amazing, right? Maybe we should cancel all of this and get cable instead.”

The hand in hair gripped and gave a light tug. “I do remember, and I remember how hellish it was trying to get out of it. No dice.” Tommy went back to scratching, and Buck grunted, dissatisfied with his answer but understanding Tommy’s point of view. “You know what else I remember?” Tommy asked. “Antennas. Our father refused to get cable until 1997. Not only that, but the TV we used the most was black and white.”

Buck twisted around to see Tommy's face. He was right. Tommy's head rested against the couch, and his eyes were barely open. Buck grinned uncertainly, not sure if Tommy was kidding. “Really? You only had black and white?”

“I didn’t say that. We had a huge—well, huge at the time—36” color TV that did picture-in-picture and had the option to add surround sound. But after 5PM on weekdays, and forget about the weekends, that TV became my father’s. That left the 12” black and white that still used a rotary tuner for my brother and I to fight over.”

“And since he was three years older...”

“Got his way, yeah.”

Buck gave Tommy’s knee another kiss. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling bad for little Tommy.

Tommy shrugged. “That’s life, right? Anyway, it worked out on Fridays. TGIF was pretty much the only thing CJ and I agreed on.”

“Was that a TV show?”

Tommy froze, slice halfway to his mouth, and then he frowned. “I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not?”

Buck smirked. “I am. Sorta. Like, I’ve heard of it I’m just not 100% sure what the line-up was.”

“Most of the time, I forget there’s an age gap, and then you’ll say something...”

“In my defense, I was popculturally sheltered. Mom and Dad wanted us to read...”

“Which you hated.”

“...which I hated,” Buck agreed. “When I did get to watch, I was mostly relegated to PBS.”

“Mostly?”

“I caught a rerun of Mystery Science Theater 3000 one Sunday morning and was hooked. They didn’t object for whatever reason, so most of my movie knowledge comes from bad B movies from the 60s and 70s.”

Tommy chuckled and said affectionately, “Nerd.” He pulled himself down with a hand around Buck’s neck, and they shared a greasy, pizza-y kiss. Tommy tasted like pepperoni, sauce, and onions. Gross, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made for love. Buck pushed Tommy’s pizza box out of the way and straddled his lap, logging into their streaming services forgotten. They kissed again, and Buck knew Tommy was suffering just as much with his green pepper breath.

When the kiss broke, Tommy nuzzled into Buck’s neck, and Buck stroked the sweat-damp hair at the back of Tommy’s head. It was too hot to be this close, but Buck couldn’t bring himself to care, and he was pleased to know Tommy felt the same. “You know, going forward, TV, movies, music, technology, all of it, we’ll get to experience together. The gaps between us are going to narrow.”

“They barely exist now,” Tommy said. He pulled back, staring at Buck intensely. His fingertips followed the line of Buck’s jaw, and with just a touch of pressure to his chin, Tommy tilted Buck’s face. Their lips brush together two and then three times. “I think we’re going to be happy here,” Tommy confessed.

In the house they bought, in the relationship they built, and with the love they made, Buck agreed. "I know we will.

[theblack-dog]

Preview for an upcoming project.

TW: Blood

“What's wrong, Pony?” Darry asks, noticing Ponyboy’s awkward position, looking almost like he was trying to duck under the table.

“N-nothing,” Ponboy says, his hand covering the lower half of his face, although the blood was quickly beginning to seep through his fingers, running down the back of his hand.

“Shit kid, you okay?” Two-Bit says, his eyes widening slightly.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” Ponyboy says, the blood now beginning to drip onto the table despite Ponyboy’s best efforts to stop the rapidly increasing flow.

“Johnny, throw me that towel, please,” Darry says, pointing to the dish towel hanging around the kitchen sink, his voice slightly urgent. Johnny nods, picks up the towel, and tosses it over to Darry, who quickly approaches Ponyboy with it.

“Here, little buddy. Let me help," Darry says gently. However, as soon as Ponyboy removes his hand from his face to grab the towel, a big stream of blood shoots out from his nose in an unnaturally powerful way, almost like a high pressure hose.

It immediately soaks the front of Darry’s white tank top, as well as his face and hair, leaving almost his entire upper body a dark red color.

“Oh, my god!” Ponyboy screams, slamming his hand back onto his face and quickly standing from his chair. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he says, his breathing heavy and voice panicked as he bolts out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom.

Darry stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen for several moments, the shock of the situation leaving him petrified. He wasn’t the only one, though. Johnny, Two-Bit, and even Dallas were also as stiff as statues, completely bewildered by what they just saw.

“Fuck!” Dallas suddenly shouts, his hands going to his hair, tugging it slightly. “What the fuck was that?”

Darry didn’t say anything as he brought his hand to his mouth, wiping the blood around it away, spitting the small amount that managed to get past his lips.

.

.

So, fair warning, this isn't coming out anytime soon lol.

I made a promise to myself that I would stop starting new fics without finishing my current ones.

However

I got this idea a couple months ago and I've been obsessing over it ever since. So much so, that I've been writing little scenes of it every now and then, and I figured I'd share a little.

I'm not gonna reveal much about it right now, but the way I'd describe this fic would be "Ponyboy sickfic to the absolute max."

I've also been wanting to write a horror au for a while, so this should be fun ;)

[inchesinbetweenus]

Sunshowers

a/n: should i turn this into a josh washington x reader series?

Some say a rain cloud named "tragedy" seemed to follow Joshua Washington everywhere he went. Some could hardly tell. Over time, he had learned how to live with the cold.

Many assumed he experienced the usual "rich kid problems" like his parents not letting him use their private yacht as a speedboat, or crying over not receiving enough presents for his birthday or Christmas, third-world problems really. While he was still young, the boy did experience more detached issues from his friends. These problems fleeted as quickly as they came. His childish attention span could only hold grudges for so long. One feeling that Joshua couldn't quite let go was loneliness.

Joshua first learned what it felt like to be alone when he was five. The deep pit in his chest started when he was very young, seeing Daddy leave for long periods to work on his movie projects. His mother, already used to the absence, busied herself to keep her sanity. Being left to take care of three young children is a daunting task. So she would hire nannies and babysitters to help fill the spaces she could not. Melinda tried her best, but it wasn't quite what her son needed. With his parents more distant than others, most of the time, Joshua never truly felt attached to anyone except for his sisters.

As they grew older, Joshua cared for them in the ways their parents lacked. In return, they did the same. The three siblings were incredibly close. It wasn't until Joshua was 10 that his family noticed something was wrong.

Joshua had grown up with the feeling that he was broken. Somewhere he couldn't quite figure it out. It all just felt wrong. That feeling and idea hung over his head in his low moments, but at some point, it felt consuming. He had brushed it off when it was easy to, a child had little time to be sad for too long. Over time it grew harder and harder to push away. It continued to grow and fester on his skin. Like a rash, he tried to conceal it, but to no avail. Now he felt like all could see. It took over him, and he had no idea what it was he felt or what he should do.

Soon enough, each day felt longer than the next. Each day, he spent more time in bed than out of it. Only leaving for necessity. Then something happened. The Washingtons spent copious amounts of money to hide the incident. All that is left of it, is a record in Joshua's doctor's notes regarding an "incident at school". Joshua was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder at the age of eleven.

Joshua never felt a lack of people in his life. He felt a lack of connection. His sisters, his friends, Chris, and others, they could only do so much. Josh was a hopeless romantic, with emphasis on "hopeless". A movie enthusiast, a trait he shared with his father. Joshua spent many sleepless nights rewatching his favorite movies. Many being romances. Some nights he so desperately wanted someone to jump in and sweep him off his feet just like in those movies. Someone to share a connection with. Each year that passed without anything close only made him feel more hopeless. And then he met you.

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

Junior year, for you, meant a new school. Your high school had been next in line to be remodeled over the summer, and due to unexpected circumstances, it wasn't ready in time for the new year. Most students got distributed to other schools in the area, but you were out of the district of your old school, so you were placed in the correct school. Away from all your friends. You weren't entirely thrilled at this, but ultimately there wasn't anything you could've done. Not on such short notice, but maybe later in the year, you could get a transfer. Hopefully.

Walking into a new school is not for the faint of heart. Each class felt like forever. Former friend groups mingled as you tried to find your spot in it all. The realization you were alone tightened your chest. A silent prayer that it wouldn't last fell from your lips as you entered the next classroom. It was Physics, and it seemed you were pretty early. The kind teacher instructed you to pick your seat as you were one of the first there. You settled on a seat towards the front of the class, but not dead center. Your eyes focused on your phone as the rest of the students filed into the room. The seats beside you remained empty as groups found each other. The tightening in your chest grew until someone sat next to you. She was blonde and had her hair pulled back out of her face. She was beautiful, sporting a bit of a grungey look. With a smile on her face, she introduced herself to you. You learned her name was Samantha, and she also had no friends in that class. Her best friend was in the year below, so they often took different classes. After sharing schedules, you realized you had lots of classes together. The two of you seemed to let out a sigh of relief. Guess loneliness had missed its target today. You spent most of the day with Sam, she showed you around the school and provided insight into the teachers and student drama. At lunch, she introduced you to her best friend, Hannah, and Hannah's sister, Beth. You learned they were twins and their brother, Joshua, also attended the school in the year above them. The first day you already knew three new people you could talk to. This was going better than you expected.

One thing you were still concerned about was your last class. You had been placed into AP English Literature as a Junior. It was commonly a Senior class, but you tested out of AP English Language. This meant none of your new friends would be in that class, but Hannah and Beth had mentioned their brother taking that class. Was it possible you had the same period?

Walking into the warmly lit classroom was a relief in your eyes. The fluorescent lights in most of the other classrooms always strained your eyes when reading. The moody lighting was a nice change. Purple LED lights were strung around the top of the room, matching the deep purple of two of the walls. Warm fairy lights dangled beneath the LEDs, better fitting the other two white walls. A beautifully calming contrast. Sunlight poured in through the blinds of the windows behind the teacher's desk. It had been raining all day, a dreary first day. But now the weather seemed better. Only the raindrops still fell but the sun peeking through the clouds gave hope of better weather.

The desks were arranged in groups of four, with two seats facing the front and two facing each other. You chose a seat closer to the teacher and the windows. Not really wanting to face a new person, you chose one of the seats facing the front. Similar to your other classes, students walked in, but with less urgency than this morning.

The seat next to you remained empty. Two girls sat in front of you, they were nice but more interested in each other. You kept your attention on your phone as they chatted about the drama that already seemed to be happening on the first day.

Finally, the last wave of students walked in. With that group was a boy that looked slightly similar to the description Hannah and Beth had given of their brother. You noticed it all. The brown hair that looked slightly styled, the clothes he wore, and the goofy smile on his lips as he spoke with some friends. What you also noticed was a distinct look in his eyes. Despite all the laughs he shared as he walked in, his eyes looked like they held a sea of grief. You were shocked at how deep they were. Your face burned at this sudden infatuation with a stranger's eyes, but you couldn't help it. There were two open seats, and by whatever miracle it was, he chose to sit next to you. At least you thought it was a miracle.

"Good afternoon, class." The teacher looked up from her seat in the corner, surrounded by the sunlight peeking through the blinds. "Please take a few minutes to get acquainted with your tablemates. They will be your group for the year."

The two girls paid no mind to you and Joshua. Returning to their previous conversation. A smile pulled at your lips as you turned to face the boy next to you. Your gazes met, and you glanced over his features. Quite striking, but his eyes were something else. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on. If you weren't too busy with your own inner thoughts, you'd have noticed the brunette was staring right back at you.

"Joshua, right? I have lunch with your sisters."

The mention of his sisters snapped him back to the conversation as he blinked away his thoughts.

"Right, but everyone calls me Josh." The same goofy smile from before graced his face. "And you are?"

"Y/N."

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

Josh was usually focused in school. It was the one place he could muster the strength to get stuff done. On particularly bad days, he was allowed to stay home. Sure, he would get behind, but eventually, he could catch up. Once his medicine kicked in. If it kicked in. Last year was particularly rough, but not rough enough to stop him from placing in one of his favorite classes AP Literature. He looked forward to the film portion of that class, and wouldn't let anything get in his way of it. He worked his ass off studying for the AP Lang exam, passing with flying colors. His current medicine seemed to work, for now.

He walked into AP Literature, actually excited for the class. He split off from Chris and his other friends as they walked to their final classes. Being almost late for his classes was a signature for Josh, and his teachers had learned it was best to not mention it. It was a fight they couldn't win anyway. Josh was expecting to love this class but for an entirely different reason than now. Now he found himself drawn to a new face.

It was a girl. She was definitely new, between Josh and his friends, he knew most people at the school. A new person would've been noticed. How he hadn't noticed her before, he didn't know, but now she was the only thing he could notice. Her hair looked purposefully done, even if it was just brushed there was intent there. There was intent in everything about her appearance no matter how small. But what he really was looking at was her eyes. There was a warmth in her eyes that he didn't see from many people. As cliche as it sounds, time felt slower. With a breath in, Josh almost wished he could stay here and figure out what it was about this girl he was so interested in.

Without much thought, Josh walked over to the empty seat next to her. He settled in the spot. Usually, Josh sat in the back of the class, not wanting to be front and center. That was the last thing he was thinking of right now. He turned to the teacher as she spoke. The sunlight danced through the blinds.

"Please take a few minutes to get acquainted with your tablemates. They will be your group for the year."

His eyes followed the light that glimmered in the rain, the way it fell on her felt almost poetic. A pause before either of them spoke. Taking in the sight of her, he could've sworn she was looking at him the same way. She spoke first; her voice was just as warm as she looked. She spoke of his sisters, snapping back into the conversation, Josh felt a smile pull at his lips.

"Right, but everyone calls me Josh."

Nobody really called him Joshua except for his parents, his teachers, his doctors, or people he didn't know well. Maybe something in him wanted to get to know her more, or he felt more at ease knowing she was friends with his sisters. Whatever it was, he welcomed it. "And you are?"

"Y/N"

"Y/N"

He repeated her name lightly.

Some say a rain cloud named "tragedy" seemed to follow Joshua Washington everywhere he went. Some could hardly tell. Over time, he had learned how to live with the cold. Well, for once, he could've sworn the sun was peeking through the rain. And he knew that what he only ever wanted was to bask in its warmth. Maybe you could help him do that.

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

☕︎ ꩜.ᐟ addie's works in progress!

hai everyone, this is where i store my upcoming works! shoot me a message or comment if you would like to be tagged in any of them! (or should i start a perm taglist idk lolol)

i'll keep this updated as much as i can (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ - addie (っᵔ◡ᵔ)っ

ᝰ.ᐟ lee heeseung ── 이희승

[wip!] fine line ── e2l!au, idol!heeseung, strangers to lovers!au ✎ᝰ. crack, teensy bit of angst, fluff

⤷ teaser coming out soon! (my next upcoming fic :3)

↳ heeseung’s got two problems: (1) he can’t sleep, and (2) he’s addicted to the 1AM combo of instant spicy ramyeon and coffee milk from his favorite convenience store around the corner. the only thing more consistent than his insomnia? his nightly visits for his beloved snacks (and maybe glare at the new night shift employee who seems to judge his food choices, too). & pstt, spoiler alert: you're the said new night shift employee.

ᝰ.ᐟ park jongseong ── 박종성

[wip!] love looks pretty on you ── friends to lovers!au, fakedating!au (kinda), golden retriever x black cat!duo✎ᝰ fluff, angst, crack, rom-com

↳ jay has mastered the art of romance—flowers, candlelit dinners, sweet nothings whispered over the phone at 2 AM—you name it. but commitment? yeah, not really his thing. but so isn’t being alone. love is fun, love is exciting, but love is not forever. at least, not for jay. you, on the other hand, think love is a glorified pyramid scheme formed by societal expectations. so, no thanks! so when jay proposes a deal—he’ll show you the fun side of dating if you help him figure out why his relationships never last—it’s purely educational. totally hypothetical. no real feelings involved. just two people trying to prove a point. except now, you’re starting to enjoy rom-coms, and he’s looking at you like you’re something worth staying for—and suddenly, you two discover that love isn’t just a scam or a fleeting thrill. maybe...just maybe—it looks a lot like the two of you. and that? that was never part of the deal.

ᝰ.ᐟ sim jaeyun ── 심재윤

[wip!] love, actually ── secretadmirer!jake (kinda, you'll see heh), childhood bestfriends!au, friends to lovers!au, highschool!au ✎ᝰ. fluff, crack, rom-com

↳ ah, love. l'amour. the very word stirs our imaginations and pulls at all our heartstrings. well—all except yours. after your bad luck with relationships, you're simply convinced that love is not for you. and a certain jake sim—your annoyingly persistent best friend—has made it his personal mission to prove you wrong. his brilliant plan? writing you love letters under the identity of a secret admirer. foolproof, right? well...if his goal was to make you fall for a completely fictional person, then sure—he aced it. there's just one teensy, tiny, problem: the more you swoon over your so-called secret admirer, the more jake starts to realize he might be the one in trouble.

ᝰ.ᐟ park sunghoon ── 박성훈

[wip!] love me if you dare ── idol!sunghoon, childhood friends to lovers!au ✎ᝰ. angst

⤷ based off this sneak peak i posted years ago! (literally posted it four years ago and finally now committing to finishing it...)

↳ in which you know exactly what (or rather, who) you want (p.s. it’s sunghoon), and you’re not afraid to show it. sunghoon, on the other hand? he’s afraid of many things—starting with the very real #1 fear of losing you, his lifelong best friend. so when you go and confess your feelings for him, sunghoon faces his worst nightmare. but between falling for you and losing you, he realizes there’s only one thing scarier than his number #1 fear—never even getting the chance to love you at all. and it takes him confronting that to understand that the perfect love casts out all fears.

[wip!] accidentally yours ── highschool!au (or college!au, i haven't 100% decided lolz) , classmates to lovers!au ✎ᝰ. fluff, crack, rom-com

↳ the universe has a funny way of working. some people find their fate in poetry, in the stars, or in the grand, sweeping moments of life. you? you find yours in the form of park sunghoon—a boy you keep running into in the most unfortunate ways possible. like how he threw a football straight into your face and broke your nose. or when he got way too drunk at a party and threw up all over your shoes. or that time he somehow managed to blow up your entire science lab during class. in other words—the five times the universe tries to tell you that park sunghoon is your fate…and the one time you finally listened. (and maybe fate had less to do with a broken nose and more to do with the way he looks at you like you’re his favorite accident.)

ps: no exact dates as of rn for when they get released,,,ty for your support & patience ᰔᩚᰔᩚᰔᩚ - addie

© jakesimfromstatefarm ── all rights reserved. all works & ideas & graphics are my own! pls no copying, stealing, or translating!

[bradchenford]

Jealousy, Jealousy

“Tim’s jealous side shows when Lucy gets asked on a date by another officer”

Post Season 6 / Pre season 7

Mid-Wilshire police station had seen a reduction in staff for the past few months. Sickness, injury, stress. All the usual denominators that affect an already overworked division. It was exhausting for the remainder of the staff, but their usual determination had prevailed so far. After all, Smitty was still at his desk, and that tugged at Lucy’s competitive side. No matter how exhausted she was.

However, during roll call there were some faces that Lucy didn’t recognise. She felt as though it was odd, as if her usual comfortable space had been invaded by trespassers, but that feeling was pushed to one side as soon as Grey walked in the room for his usual morning speech.

“All right, settle down” the chattering subsided as Grey’s authority hushed the room. “I hope you’ve all noticed that there are some new faces in the room today. If you haven’t, then you should consider a carer change” A couple of chuckles escaped the mouths of the seated officers, but not enough to interrupt him.

Lucy plucked up the courage to take another look around the room. To her surprise, she was met with a pair of eyes staring right back at her. They were a light green on the outside, but they had a dark centre. She gave a quick and awkward smile, before focusing back on Grey. She knew if she was caught not paying attention, he would make it known to the entire room.

The occupant of the eyes continued to stare with Lucy being none the wiser, but Tim was watching the exchange from the front of the room. He knew what type of man officer Booth was, and it was not the type that he wanted near Lucy. In fact it was not the type of man he wanted on the force, but that was not his decision. Especially since Booth was technically under the Hollywood devision.

Grey had finished roll call and just like Tim suspected Booth made a couple of strides towards Lucy, who was speaking to Lopez about her next under cover task. It was linked to one of Lopez’s ongoing cases, and Harper had taken a rare day off to spend with Leah. Tim felt his fists clench and Booth presented a smile that looked foreign on his face.

“Chen right? Next in line to be the top UC?” Booth placed himself between Angela and Lucy. Tim had envisioned a million different scenarios in which Booth failed miserably. A sudden Bee sting in which his face swelled up and he passed out. Or maybe Lucy would punch him in the face, but Tim knew that she was too nice for that.

By the time Tim’s thoughts got round to possible attempted murder, Lopez was stood in front of him with an all too familiar face. The face of ‘I know what you’re thinking, and I am about to tell you that.’

“My Abuela might have a curse we could use, certain things may fall off” Angela was also aware of officer Booths discretions, but despite this Tim new she would have his back even if Booth was the re-incarnation of Jesus. “I was thinking of something more practical… or physical” Tim grunted in dismay as Booth’s hand found its way to Chen’s shoulder.

“Unfortunately you lost that privilege when you were feeling sad for yourself and broke up with her” Tim was starting to regret this conversation, and it was not helping the anger that was bubbling up inside of him. Angela tugged him out of the room. “We’re riding together today- but- don’t argue with me Bradford”.

Tim didn’t argue

…

Lucy felt on edge after her conversation with officer Booth. She couldn’t figure out if it was because the words coming out of his mouth felt rehearsed and repeated like re-runs of a cringy TV show. Or if it was because of the light touches on her shoulder and her lower back which felt too personal for a first conversation.

Lucy was in the shop getting ready for the day. There was hope in her heart that the shift would be easier with the extra staffing, but she knew better than to get comfortable. As she was about to set off she watched Lopez and Tim walk towards the shop, Tim having the war bags in hand. There was no one else other than Angela that he would carry them for. Chen chuckled to herself, but was hit with a wave of sadness.

Her foot lifted gently of the clutch of the vehicle and she had left the lot before Tim could catch her staring. Lucy wished that she could look at Bradford without emotions clawing at her insides, but even though she has meditated and worked through her feelings over and over again. She still felt that emotional pull towards him that was undeniable.

She also couldn’t deny that she missed his touch, and his warmth beside her.

“Control to 7-Adam-15, 7-Adam-19 and 7-Adam-16 there are reports of multiple person fight at a property on 2210 Rosemont”

“7-Adam-15 to control, show me responding”

…

The scene was loud as Tim and Angela pulled up. Two patrol cars were already present, but the occupants were no longer inside. They both rushed in to the room which had about 10 people not including Lucy and Booth. The room was split into two sides and minor first aid was being administered. The tension in the room was thick, but not just between the opposing family members.

“Chen, you okay?” Lucy nodded towards Tim signalling that she wasn’t hurt. Although they were not on speaking terms, Tim still felt responsible for Lucy, especially since he was previously her TO. Or that was what he told himself to keep his head straight.

“You not going to ask me Bradford? Or do you just check on the cute female officers” The room fell silent. Or at least it did for Tim. The rage he felt earlier rose and burned behind his ears, and he couldn’t stop himself from swirling on his feet and pacing towards Booth.

Before Tim could cause any physical injury Lopez was in his Path. “You, outside and cool off” Tim felt his anger subside enough for him to take a look around the room. All eyes were on him, but the only ones he focused on were Lucy’s. Her eyes portrayed a look of shock that Tim hadn’t seen in a while. There wasn’t a lot that took Lucy by surprise, but Tim understood that his lack of control over his emotions wasn’t a part of his usual stoical character.

Tim was waiting outside of the property when Lopez, Chen and Booth left. “No one is wanting to press charges, no one is telling us who threw punches” Time to go. Lopez grabbed Tim by the shoulder and tried to move him a long.

“Do we have an issue Bradford” Tim heard Lopez groan from beside him, but he had already heard enough from officer Booth today. “We will have a problem Booth, if you keep up the inappropriate conduct at work. I will put a complaint into your watch commander” Booth laughed, but it was a laugh out of anger. Tim had already looked him up on the system, and the complaints from female officers were already pileing up. It would definitely have an impact on his career, especially since he was already under the big eye.

“Cut the high and mighty sergeant crap Bradford, tell me what you really want to say” Booth was now practically face to face with Tim, despite his stature being significantly smaller. Tim looked down at him with a look of pure disgust on his face. “You’re sleazy Booth, you treat women like shit. Chen is here to do a job, and a job that she is good at. She doesn’t need your gross comments”

“You sure it’s not just because you want a piece of that fine ass…” Tim’s hands were on Booth’s shirt before he even knew it. Booth tried to punch Tim in retaliation but wasn’t able to build up a good enough swing with Tim’s arms in the way.

“Tim stop!” Lucy’s voice broke Tim out of his trance which gave Booth a chance to push him off. Booth stormed off mumbling some insults to Bradford. “What is wrong with you” Lucy hit Tim in the chest, but not hard enough to cause pain. His mouth moved to say something but the words didn’t come out. “You just had so much to say to him, and nothing to me?”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me” Lucy saw that people were coming to their windows to watch the argument and she walked away as she felt the tears prick at her eyes. She was frustrated by the mix of hurt and confusion. Tim had said all those things about her being great at the job, but yet didn’t feel confident that she could deal with some creep.

Lucy didn’t spend time sat in the shop, she buckled up and drove away so she could process this far away from Tim’s watching eye. She didn’t understand him, why he broke up with her or why he was acting like he was. She also knew she was unlikely to get an answer from him.

….

It was the end of shift and it was a miracle for Tim that Booth didn’t put in a complaint. Angela had given him an earful in the shop as well as a look of sympathy that he didn’t want. He didn’t deserve sympathy, not when he had ignored Lucy’s feeling all day because of his own anger…or as Angela had put it ‘jealousy’.

Jealousy wasn’t an emotion Tim felt, or he didn’t think he did. It was not an experience he had been through before. Or so he told himself. He had at least not felt it so deeply. He was arguing with himself in his head about if he felt jealous of Booth, and his actions towards Lucy. It just felt impossible to him that he could feel like jealous of some sleezeball, or that he thought Lucy would even entertain it. Before he even realised the answer he was in his truck heading towards her flat, and then at her door.

Tim had paused at Lucy’s door. He had been here a million times before, but he was hesitating this time. Before Tim could even knock the door swung open and Lucy stood before him. Her green dress caressed her body elegantly, and her her was pinned behind her ear.

“Tim?” Again, Tim found himself lost for words. He was at her apartment but he didn’t quite know why. “Where are you going?” He instantly knew that it was the wrong thing to say, even before Lucy’s face showed evidence of dismay. “Not that it is any of your business but I am going out to meet Tamara”. Tim held his head in shame and chose his next words more carefully.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to quiz you that’s not why I am here. I also know it’s not my place.” Tim waited to see if there was a reaction from Lucy but her facial expression and her body language remained unchanged.

“I’m also sorry for my actions earlier today. I don’t know what was going through my head, I just knew what kind of guy Booth was and I hated that he was speaking to you. Especially in the manner he was” Tim struggled to to get the words out in the correct order with Lucy’s hard stare.

“So you were jealous?”

“Why do people keep saying that? I was not… it sounds like you were” Tim sighed. He didn’t want to admit to Lucy that he had been taken over by something as petty as jealousy. “Okay maybe I was a little jealous, and I know again that it isn’t my place to be”

“You’re right it’s not” Lucy seemed less tense with Tim, even offering a small smile. She moved forward so she was able to turn and lock her door. When she turned back around Tim was much closer. They both leaned in slowly until their lips met, and Tim’s hand went to her cheek.

It was a short lived, but sweet kiss between the two before Lucy pulled away. “Tim, this is not the right time, especially if it was born out of jealousy. You still have a lot to work through”

Tim didn’t say anything in response but nodded. He hadn’t intended for the kiss to happen, but it was difficult not to when it was all he wanted to do. Lucy said a polite goodbye before leaving Tim in the hall on his own, and for some reason he knew that it was going to be okay between them eventually.

[iamquiantrelle]

THURAM'S NO. 1 ANGEL (chapter 1) ────iamquaintrelle

# pairing: marcus thuram x black oc (☔️✨💕)

# wc: 4.5k

# tags: @irishmanwhore @sucredreamer @coffeevacation @hopefulromantic1 @jessnotwiththemess

# summary: shanice carter-ricci didn't expect to become part-owner of inter milan at forty, but here she is - fresh off a divorce from her italian ex and ready to shake up serie a. she's got plans to bring some much-needed diversity and fresh energy to those stuffy executive boxes. what she doesn't plan on? getting tangled up with marcus thuram, the team's star striker who's fourteen years younger and infamous for his rotation of gorgeous girlfriends known as "thuram's angels." soon shanice is finding out that age ain't nothing but a number… and maybe it's time for this angel investor to shake up thuram's roster. masterlist.

# a/n: this will be a mini fic series with thirteen parts unless there's no engagement.

Shanice pulled her Hermes scarf tighter as she walked through the VIP entrance of San Siro. Even after six months, it still felt weird being part owner of Inter Milan. Like, how did her ex-husband's obsession become her fresh start at forty? The divorce from Alessandro had at least given her this, along with keeping her sanity intact.

The players' tunnel was empty and quiet since practice ended hours ago. As the new VP of Community Relations, she told herself she needed to know every inch of her investment. But honestly? She just loved how the place felt when no one was around.

That's when she heard it - deep laughter and rapid French echoing off the walls. Before she could place where it was coming from, she literally walked right into what felt like a wall of muscle in Inter training gear.

"Shit, I'm sorry!" Marcus Thuram's face broke into that infamous grin of his as his hands steadied her shoulders. Behind him, three gorgeous women watched the scene unfold, all gorgeous in that Instagram-ready way. So these were the famous "Angels" everyone gossiped about.

"Mrs. Ricci," he said, recognition lighting his eyes. "I didn't expect to meet our new owner like this." His English was good, touched with just enough French to be straight up dangerous.

"Just Shanice now," she corrected him. "The divorce was finalized in June." Why the hell did she share that? There was just something about his open, playful expression that made you want to spill your whole life story.

"Ah, fresh starts," he nodded sagely, though his eyes danced with mischief. "I'm somewhat of an expert in those. New club, new city…" He gestured at the women behind him. "New friends."

One of the Angels - this tall drink of water with honey-blonde weave - cleared her throat like she was tired of waiting.

"Speaking of friends," Marcus said with an apologetic grin, "we have dinner reservations. But maybe we could discuss community outreach programs sometime? I have some ideas."

Shanice found herself nodding before she could stop herself. This man's charm should be illegal for real. "My office is always open to players."

"Good!" He was already backing away, the Angels falling into formation around him like they'd rehearsed it. "Though fair warning - I might try to convince you to sponsor a sneaker design competition for local kids."

She watched him disappear down the corridor, her daughters' voices already playing in her head. Thirteen-year-old Dream would absolutely lose it if she knew mom had just met her favorite player. And nine-year-old Heaven would've been all over his shoes, trying to figure out if they were some limited drop.

Pulling out her phone, Shanice added "look into sneaker comps?" to her notes. She tried to ignore how her skin was still buzzing where his hands had been.

She had way too much on her plate to be thinking about a fine as hell 27-year-old footballer with a rotating cast of girlfriends. Even if his smile could probably power all of Milan.

Shaking her head, Shanice continued down the tunnel, her heels clicking against the concrete. Football had always been Alessandro's thing, not hers. Every weekend for years, he'd take Dream and Heaven to the matches while she built her empire hosting events and securing those luxury brand deals. Not that she minded - somebody had to be the practical one, the hustler making things happen while he played football owner with his rich friends.

But now? Now she owned a piece of one of the biggest clubs in Europe. The irony wasn't lost on her. She might not know every player's stats like Dream did, or care about formation tactics like Alessandro had, but she knew business. She knew how to make things grow. And honestly? Serie A could use some diversity in the owner's boxes - not just on the pitch.

"Time to make some noise," she muttered to herself, running her hand along the tunnel wall. Dream had screamed for ten minutes straight when Shanice told her about the divorce settlement. Not because of the divorce - they'd all seen that coming - but because her mom now owned part of her favorite team. Heaven had just rolled her eyes in that way only a nine-year-old could and asked if this meant she could players’ shoe collections.

Back in her modeling days, Shanice never imagined she'd end up here. But that hustle had never left her blood, even after she'd transitioned from walking runways to running events. Her network was crazy - fashion houses, celebrities, influencers, business moguls - all on speed dial because they knew she could make magic happen. Alessandro might've laughed at her "little parties" at first, but he shut up real quick when her connections started bringing serious money and clout to his business ventures.

She pulled out her phone again, scrolling through her contacts. Maybe it was time to bring that same energy to Inter. These stuffy old Italian football clubs needed to wake up and realize the game was changing. Social media, fashion collabs, global branding - that's where the real money was. And with her connections? She could open doors these men in their expensive suits hadn't even thought to look for.

The image of Marcus Thuram's smile flashed through her mind again. She had to admit - at least the view at work was going to be nice. Real nice. Even if he was young enough to make her feel like a whole cougar for even thinking about it.

Her phone lit up with a message from Dream: "MOMMM did you see any players today? 👀"

Shanice grinned, deciding to torture her daughter a little. "Maybe. Just walked around the tunnel a bit."

"OMG WHO???"

"Nobody special. Just some tall guy. French, I think? Had a few girlfriends with him..."

"MARCUS?!?! YOU MET MARCUS THURAM AND YOU'RE JUST NOW TELLING ME?! I'm literally dying. Did he do the smile? You know the one. Heaven says you better have checked his shoes!"

Shanice laughed out loud in the empty tunnel. Trust her kids to have their priorities straight - Dream thirsting over that smile and Heaven focused on the sneaker game. Like mother, like daughters - she hadn't missed those Jordan 1s he was wearing either.

"You're supposed to be doing homework," she texted back. "And yes, he smiled. No, I didn't catalog his shoe collection. I was kind of busy being professional."

The string of crying emojis that followed made her shake her head. She'd created a monster when she agreed to let Alessandro take Dream to that Inter Milan match three years ago. Now her daughter's room looked like a shrine to them - posters, jerseys, the works. Heaven wasn't much better, except her wall was covered in pictures of players' rare sneaker collections that she'd printed out.

Her phone buzzed again. This time it was her assistant reminding her about tomorrow's marketing meeting. Right. Back to reality. She had actual work to do, strategies to plan, a whole department to run. She couldn't be out here acting like her teenage daughter, getting flustered over a pretty smile and some designer kicks.

Even if that smile did make her forget she was supposed to be a whole grown woman with responsibilities.

"At least tell me if the Angels were as pretty in person as they look on Instagram!" Dream's next text popped up.

Shanice rolled her eyes. "Goodbye, Dream. Do your homework."

But as she headed toward her office, she couldn't help but wonder exactly how one got an invitation to join Thuram's Angels. Not that she was interested. At all.

She was way too old for that drama.

Probably.

*********************************************

Shanice's office was her sanctuary in the chaos of training days. Up here in the executive level, she could see the players running drills on the practice field below. Not that watching was doing her any good right now - she'd been staring at the same sponsorship proposal for twenty minutes straight.

Her phone buzzed. Dream again, probably spamming her with more TikToks of Marcus's training highlights. Her teenager had been insufferable since finding out mom was technically her idol's boss. Heaven was slightly more chill about it, but only because she was more interested in his sneaker collection than his football skills.

But it wasn't Dream. It was an Inter Milan internal number.

Marcus? Why is he calling her?

"Shouldn't you be training right now?" Shanice answered, trying to keep her voice professional despite the smile tugging at her lips.

"Water break," Marcus's voice was warm through the speaker. "And I hear you have an excellent coffee machine in your office. Much better than the one in players' lounge."

"Are you really trying to schmooze the boss for better coffee when you should be hydrating?"

"I would never," he gasped in mock offense. "I'm trying to schmooze the boss for both better coffee AND funding for my sneaker competition. I'm an excellent multitasker."

She shouldn't find that as funny as she did. "Fine. After training tomorrow? And yes, the coffee is excellent."

"Perfect. I'll bring my presentation. You bring your coffee machine's A-game."

"Get back to practice," she said, but she was grinning like a fool.

"Yes, boss," he chuckled before hanging up.

Shanice leaned back in her chair, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach. This was business. Just business. Even if his voice did things to her that should be classified as a cardiac event.

Her phone buzzed again - Dream for real this time. "Mom mom mom did you see Marcus's new training pics? His fit is actually insane!"

Shanice glanced down at the practice field, where she could just make out number 9 jogging back to rejoin his teammates.

Just. Business.

The rest of her day was a blur of meetings and calls - sponsorship negotiations, community program reviews, endless emails about jersey designs. She was good at this part. Numbers, strategies, making shit happen - that's what got her here, not knowing the difference between a free kick and a corner kick.

On her way out, she nearly ran into Simone Inzaghi, Inter's manager. He'd been trying to get her to actually watch a match from the owner's box instead of just handling the business side.

"Shanice! This Saturday, yes? You'll come?" His English was getting better, but his hopeful expression did most of the talking.

She adjusted her Birkin on her shoulder. "Still not a football fan, coach."

"I will change this," he declared, shaking his head with a laugh. "I will beg if needed."

"We'll see," she smiled, already knowing she wouldn't. She had enough football talk from her daughters - she didn't need to add live matches to the mix.

The drive home to her Lake Como villa was usually her decompression time. Twenty minutes of pure luxury car silence, winding along the lakeside, watching the sun set behind the mountains. But today, that peace was shattered by the sight of a familiar Maserati in her driveway.

"What the fuck, Alex?" she muttered, pulling her Porsche in beside it. They had a custody arrangement for a reason. Wednesday wasn't his day.

Sure enough, when she walked in, Alessandro was in her kitchen like he still owned the place, stirring something that smelled suspiciously good while Heaven played sous chef. Dream was sprawled on the kitchen island bench, scrolling through her phone like this was just another regular Wednesday night.

"Ooh! Mama's home!" Heaven squealed, abandoning her post to launch herself at Shanice.

She caught her baby girl, hugging and kissing her while pinning her ex with a look that could freeze the whole lake. "Alex, a moment please."

Alessandro had the nerve to look completely unbothered as he handed Heaven the wooden spoon. "Keep stirring the sauce, tesoro."

Shanice led him to her home office, shutting the door with maybe a little more force than necessary. The room was her space - all clean lines and modern art, not a single piece of football memorabilia in sight. Unlike the rest of the house, which had slowly been taken over by Dream's Inter Milan shrine.

"What are you doing here, Alex? It's not your day."

He leaned against her desk like he used to do when this was their house, not just hers. Still fine as hell in that tailored suit, still wearing that Rolex she'd given him for their tenth anniversary. Still irritating as fuck.

"The girls called. Said they missed my cooking." His accent got thicker when he was trying to charm his way out of trouble. "You know how Heaven loves my pasta alla vodka."

"They have phones. You have a phone. A heads up would've been nice."

"Ah, but then you might have said no." He flashed that smile that used to make her weak in the knees. Now it just made her want to throw something at him. "Besides, I heard through the grapevine that you met our new striker today. Thought you might want to... compare notes."

Shanice's eyes narrowed. "You're here because of Marcus Thuram?"

"I'm here because of pasta," he corrected, but his eyes were laughing at her. "But since you brought him up..."

"Don't start, Alex." She moved behind her desk, putting some space between them. "I had one conversation with him about community programs. That's it."

"Mhmm. And tomorrow you have coffee." He examined his nails like this was casual conversation. "In your office. Alone."

"How do you even-" She stopped herself. Of course he knew. Half the board was probably still loyal to him. "It's a business meeting."

"With the guy Dream has plastered all over her walls?" His smile turned knowing. "The one with the harem of models?"

"The Angels," she corrected automatically, then wanted to kick herself.

"Ah, so you know about that." He pushed off the desk, moving closer. "Listen, tesoro-"

"Don't 'tesoro' me. We're not married anymore."

"Fine. Listen, Shanice." He held up his hands in surrender, but his eyes were still dancing with amusement. "I just want you to be careful. Marcus is... how do you Americans say it? A player. On and off the field."

She felt her temper rising. "Are you seriously in my house, uninvited, trying to warn me about a man like I'm some teenage girl? I'm forty, Alex. I own half your shares in Inter. I think I can handle a meeting with a footballer."

"Of course you can," he said smoothly. "You can handle everything. Always could. Just..." He paused at the door. "Maybe wear something less..." He gestured vaguely at her outfit.

"Get the fuck out of my office."

"Mama!" Heaven's voice saved Alex from whatever Shanice was about to throw at him. "The sauce is bubbling!"

"We're not done," Shanice warned him as she brushed past.

His low chuckle followed her down the hall. "We never are, bella. We never are."

In the kitchen, Dream had finally looked up from her phone. "Did you really talk to Marcus again today?" Of course, that's what got her attention.

"She did," Alex answered before Shanice could, stirring the sauce Heaven had abandoned. "And she's having coffee with him tomorrow."

The shriek Dream let out could probably be heard all the way in Milan. "OH MY GOD MOM! You have to tell me everything! What was he wearing? Did you see his sneakers? Was he nice? Were the Angels there? Is he even hotter in person? Can you get me his autograph? Or better yet, can you–"

"Dream." Shanice cut off the stream of questions. "Homework. Now."

"But Mom-"

"Now."

Heaven giggled at her sister's dramatic sigh. "I just want to know if his shoes were limited edition."

"Both of you, homework. Alex-" She turned to her ex, who was now plating pasta like he belonged there. "Next time, call first."

"Of course," he said with that infuriating smile. "I wouldn't want to interrupt any... business meetings."

Shanice decided right then that she was absolutely wearing her tightest dress tomorrow. And those Louboutins that made her legs look like they went on for days.

Purely for business reasons, of course.

Shanice stood in front of her closet the next morning, eyeing her options like she was planning a battle strategy. And maybe she was. That Roland Mouret dress had been collecting dust since Milan Fashion Week - the black one that hugged every curve like it was painted on, with that strategic slit that made her legs look endless. Perfect for making a point to her ex-husband about exactly what she could and couldn't handle.

"That's the one," she muttered, pulling it out. The fabric alone probably cost more than most people's monthly rent, but that's what you got for twenty years of fashion industry connections. She paired it with those red-bottom stilettos that had their own insurance policy - six inches of "fuck you" to anyone who thought forty meant invisible.

Her reflection in the full-length mirror had her feeling satisfied. The dress did everything it was supposed to do - snatched her waist, highlighted those gym sessions she'd been religious about since the divorce, and made her ass look like it was advertising something exclusive. Her hair were swept up in a French roll showing off the diamond earrings Alex had gotten her for their fifteenth anniversary. Petty? Maybe. But she wore divorce well.

"Damn, Mom!" Dream's voice made her turn. Her daughter was standing in the doorway, already in her school uniform. "Is this what you're wearing to meet Marcus?"

"This is what I'm wearing to work," Shanice corrected, but she couldn't help smiling at Dream's knowing look. "Don't you have a bus to catch?"

"Can't you just admit you're trying to get his attention? I mean, I've seen the Angels, but they don't have anything on you in that dress."

"Everything’s packed?"

Dream rolled her eyes. "Yes, but-"

"Bus. Now."

But as she walked into Inter's offices two hours later, the click of her Louboutins echoing off marble floors, Shanice had to admit her daughter might have had a point. This wasn't just a work outfit. This was a statement.

She just wasn't sure who she was making it to.

Maria's eyes went wide when she walked in. "Ms. Carter, the coffee machine is ready and-" she paused, taking in the outfit "-Mr. Thuram called to confirm he'll be here after morning training."

"Perfect." Shanice tried to ignore the little flutter in her stomach at his name. "Any other messages?"

"Mr. Ricci called." Maria's expression was carefully neutral. "Twice."

Of course he did. "Any actual emergencies?"

"He said something about wanting to make sure you got his advice about appropriate business attire."

Shanice's laugh was sharp. "I bet he did." She strode into her office, the dress moving exactly like it was designed to. "Hold my calls unless it's about the sponsorship deal. Or Mr. Thuram," she added, because Maria would assume anyway.

Her office was ready - coffee machine prepped with those specialty beans, a view of the practice field below (not that she was looking), and enough actual work on her desk to remind herself why she was really here.

But when she caught her reflection in the window, all dangerous curves and boss energy, she had to smile. Alex always did hate it when she dressed like this for business meetings. Said it was distracting.

That was kind of the point.

The sound of cleats on marble made her pause in reviewing contracts. He was early. She could hear Maria's professional greeting, followed by that deep laugh that somehow managed to sound like trouble even through walls.

Shanice stood, smoothing down her dress.

Game time.

Marcus didn't even try to hide how his eyes traveled up from those Louboutins when Maria showed him in. She caught his muttered "good damn" before he switched to that media-ready smile.

"What was that?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Nothing," he recovered smoothly, but his eyes were still taking in the dress like he was memorizing it. "Thanks for making time for me."

"Coffee?" She gestured to the machine, using the moment of turning away to hide her smile. That reaction had been worth every euro of this dress.

"Please." He settled into one of her visitor chairs like he owned it, all long legs and easy confidence.

"Should we be expecting any other visitors today?"

The question was casual, but he caught the underlying meaning. She'd seen the Angels in their usual spot during morning training.

"Just us," he replied, grabbing the cup from her.

"Your... friends are otherwise occupied?"

His chuckle was low and knowing. "They're... back at home." The way he said it made it clear 'home' was a loose concept.

Shanice pushed away thoughts about how weird it must be to just be cool with being one of many in a rotation. Not her business. Not her place to judge anybody's sex life, especially not when she had actual business to discuss.

"So," she sat behind her desk, crossing those Louboutin-clad legs deliberately. "Tell me about this sneaker competition for local kids."

Marcus set down his coffee and pulled out an iPad. But instead of launching into some formal presentation, he leaned forward with that infectious enthusiasm she was starting to realize wasn't just for show.

"Look, these kids in the local neighborhoods, they've got crazy talent. Not just for football - for design, for art. But nobody's giving them a platform." His French accent got thicker when he was excited, she noticed. "I want to do something that combines both. Get them designing custom football boots, have them pitch their ideas like it's Shark Tank or something."

"And the winners?"

"We produce their design. Limited edition. Split the profits with them and their schools." He grinned. "Plus they get to see a professional wear their creation in a match."

She had to admit, it was good. Combine Inter's community outreach with actual entrepreneurship opportunities, get some good PR, maybe even discover the next big thing in design...

"My daughter Heaven would lose her mind over this," she said without thinking.

His eyes lit up. "The sneakerhead? Dream mentioned her yesterday."

Shanice blinked. "When did you talk to Dream?"

"Instagram. She slid in my DMs like 'my mom's gonna be your boss now so we're basically family.'" He laughed at Shanice's mortified expression. "Don't worry, I kept it professional. Told her to focus on school and that her mom seems cool."

"Seems?"

"Well," he stood, and somehow the office felt smaller with him up. "That was before I saw you in this dress. Now I'm thinking 'cool' might be an understatement."

He was at the door before she could process that. "Think about the proposal? The kids would really appreciate it."

Shanice managed a nod, proud that her voice stayed steady. "I'll review the numbers."

"Looking forward to your decision." That smile again, the one that probably got him everything he wanted. "Boss."

The door clicked shut behind him. Shanice let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

So much for keeping it professional.

Saturday came too fast. Shanice had successfully avoided matches for months, but Dream and Heaven had formed an unholy alliance. Their combined powers of teenage begging and nine-year-old puppy eyes were apparently her kryptonite.

"You're an owner, Mom," Dream had argued. "You have to at least pretend to care about the actual games."

So here she was, in the owner's box, wearing weekend casual. Heaven was pressed against the glass, documenting every player's footwear choices in her little notebook. Dream was... well.

"OH MY GOD HE WAVED AT ME!"

Marcus had paused his warm-up routine to wave at Dream, who was now literally squealing and clutching Shanice's arm. Her daughter - usually so cool, so above it all - reduced to a giggling teenager. Which, fair enough, she was.

Shanice's eyes scanned the stands automatically. No Angels in sight. Interesting, since the gossip blogs always said they never missed a match, always in their usual section, always dressed like they were at fashion week instead of a football game-

Nope. She wasn't going to go there. That was the least of her worries. Besides, she wasn't about to become some cougar chasing after a 27-year-old footballer. What could he possibly do for her? He probably couldn't even satisfy a woman properly, especially not a woman like her who knew what she wanted and-

Marcus dropped into a stretch on the field below, and Shanice's brain short-circuited. Those thighs. That ass. The way his kit stretched across-

Well. Maybe he could do a little somethin' somethin'.

"Mom!" Heaven's voice snapped her out of it. "Are those the new Nike Zoom Mercurial Superfly 9 Elites he's wearing?"

"I have no idea what any of those words mean, baby."

But she knew exactly what those thighs meant, and it was trouble. Pure trouble.

The match kicked off, and Shanice tried to look interested in whatever was happening on the field. Heaven was still cataloging shoes, but now she was comparing them to some spreadsheet on her tablet. Dream was providing commentary that might as well have been in Chinese for all Shanice understood.

"Did you see that run? The way he just- Mom, are you even watching?"

She was watching something alright. Just maybe not the same thing Dream was excited about. Marcus moved like water on the field, all power and grace. The way his muscles flexed when he sprinted, the focus in his expression when he had the ball...

"Signora Ricci." A smooth voice interrupted her definitely-not-thirsting. One of the other board members - some old money type whose name she should probably remember. "So nice to finally see you at a match."

"Couldn't disappoint my girls," she smiled diplomatically. These men still weren't used to her being here, being part owner. Still called her Ricci even though she'd gone back to her maiden name.

"You've met our new striker, yes? Quite the acquisition."

Oh, she'd met him alright. Met those chocolate eyes and that devastating smile and that ass that should be illegal in those shorts-

"We had a meeting about his community outreach proposals," she said smoothly. "Very impressive."

"His proposals or his-" Dream's comment was cut off by Shanice's warning look.

The crowd suddenly roared. Shanice turned just in time to see Marcus breaking free, the ball at his feet. The defender didn't stand a chance. One move, two, and then-

GOAL.

The stadium erupted. Dream was screaming. Heaven had abandoned her shoe documentation to jump up and down. And Marcus... Marcus was running toward their end of the field, sliding on his knees in celebration.

He looked up at the owner's box. Straight at her.

And winked.

"Did you see that?" Dream squealed. "He winked at us!"

Sure, baby. At "us."

Shanice took a long sip of her champagne. She was going to need something stronger than this to survive the rest of this match.

Shanice was on her second glass of champagne when Marcus scored again. This time his celebration was all swagger - that signature dance that had Dream and her friends making TikToks for weeks. The stadium was going crazy, and even Heaven had abandoned her sneaker documentation to cheer.

"He's so good," Dream sighed dreamily. "Like, is there anything he can't do?"

Keep his shirt on, apparently. The heat had several players stripping down to their undershirts, and Marcus's clung to him like it was painted on. Those training sessions were clearly paying off because what the actual f-

"Mamma mia, he's really showing off today."

Shanice didn't need to turn around to know that voice. "Don't you have your own box, Alex?"

"Can't a father watch with his daughters?" Alessandro dropped into the seat next to her, looking irritatingly handsome in his weekend casual Brunello Cucinelli. "Though I see you're watching... something else."

"The match," she said firmly. "I'm watching the match."

"Of course." His knowing smile made her want to dump her champagne on his designer sweater. "That's why you haven't blinked since Thuram took his shirt off."

Before she could respond, the final whistle blew. Inter 3, Juventus 1.

"Can we go down?" Dream was already gathering her things. "Please? Dad always takes us to meet the players after home games."

"I don't think-" Shanice started.

"Excellent idea," Alex cut in smoothly. "The owner should congratulate the team on their victory. Especially the man of the match."

Heaven's eyes lit up. "We can see the boots up close!"

Shanice was outnumbered. Again. "Fine. But ten minutes max."

The tunnel to the locker room was crowded with families and staff, the air thick with victory excitement and expensive perfume. Dream was practically vibrating with anticipation. Heaven had her notebook ready.

And then Marcus emerged, still glowing from the win, that undershirt still clinging to every muscle like it was doing the Lord's work. His eyes found their group immediately.

"The Carter-Ricci family!" His smile could power half of Milan. "Did you enjoy the show?"

"You were amazing!" Dream gushed. "Those goals were insane!"

"Can I see your boots?" Heaven was already crouching down with her notebook.

Alessandro's hand found the small of Shanice's back - a move that used to be possessive but now just felt like him marking his territory. "Incredible performance today. You must have been... inspired."

Marcus's eyes flicked to Alex's hand, then to Shanice's face. Something flashed in them - too quick to read. "Very inspired," he said, but he was looking straight at her. "Sometimes you just want to impress the right people, you know?"

Heaven was rattling off questions about his cleats. Dream was trying to casually get a selfie. Alex was doing that alpha male thing Italian men loved.

And Shanice?

Shanice was thinking about exactly what else those thighs could do.

"Yo! Big bro!"

A younger version of Marcus strode up, already changed into Juventus casual wear. The family resemblance was strong - same height, same build, same dangerous smile but instead of a cropped fade, he wore his hair in dreads.

"Little bro!" Marcus pulled him into one of those complicated handshakes that looked rehearsed. "Tough luck today."

"Whatever, you were showing off." Khephren's eyes landed on Shanice. "Who's this?"

"My new boss," Marcus said, and something in his tone made Shanice's skin tingle. "Shanice Carter, meet my brother Khephren."

"Damn, if I knew Inter's management looked like this, I might've signed with them instead." Khephren's grin earned him a solid smack to the chest from Marcus.

"My apologies," Marcus said to Shanice, but his eyes were laughing. "My little brother hasn't learned manners yet."

Alex cleared his throat loudly. "Girls, come on. Time to go."

Dream and Heaven reluctantly said their goodbyes, leaving Shanice standing there like an idiot, trying not to stare at Marcus's abs through that sweat-soaked shirt that was doing entirely too much.

"I should go too," she said, snapping out of it. This wasn't right. She needed to put up a wall between them right now. She was his boss, for fuck's sake.

She pivoted on her heel, but his hand caught her wrist. Warm. Strong. Trouble.

"The proposal - did you read it?"

"Yes."

"Great. Can we talk about it more? Go over the plan of action?"

"Sure, schedule with Maria for an appointment."

His face changed, eyebrows furrowing. "I don't want too many ears in this situation." He tilted his head toward where the board members and her ex were speaking in low voices. "Maybe dinner?"

"That's not–"

"My treat."

"Marcus. That would be inappropriate."

"Then a business lunch," he countered, "still my treat."

Shanice pulled her wrist from his grasp, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn't miss how his eyes followed the movement, lingering just a beat too long.

"Do you think I'm dumb or something?"

"Far from that, Shanice." He straightened up, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. The move was sexy as hell but she kept her face neutral. "You're one of the smartest women I know."

"You don't know me."

"Yet," he added, and they stared at each other for what felt like forever.

"Whatever you think you're playing at, I'm not one of your little friends... or Angels for that matter. Like I said, schedule an appointment with Maria." She turned to leave again.

"So make a call?" His voice was low, just for her ears. Thank goodness no one else heard that.

She paused, glancing back. That smug look on his handsome ass face should've been illegal.

"I'll call you then. To set up the lunch," he said with absolute confidence.

Shanice just scoffed and continued down the tunnel, feeling his eyes on her the whole way.

That man was going to be the death of her career. Or just the death of her, period.

"Mom! Wait up!" Dream's voice echoed down the tunnel. "Why'd you leave so fast?"

Because your favorite player was looking at me like I was dessert, baby girl.

"Time to go home," Shanice said instead, fishing her car keys from her Bottega purse. "Where's your sister?"

"Still with Dad. He's taking us for gelato." Dream studied her face. "You should come."

"Pass." The last thing she needed was to sit across from Alex while he made smug comments about her "meeting" with Marcus.

"Is it because of Marcus?" Dream's voice dropped to a whisper. "Because I saw how he was looking at you. And how you were looking at his-"

"Dream. Don't."

"I'm just saying, Mom. The Angels are pretty and all, but you're like... you're you. And he definitely noticed."

Shanice stopped walking. "Listen to me carefully. There is nothing between me and Marcus Thuram except a business relationship. He's your age, for God's sake."

"He's twenty-seven, Mom. That's not my age." Dream rolled her eyes. "And anyway, age is just a-"

"If you finish that sentence, you're grounded."

Dream threw up her hands. "Fine! But for the record? I wouldn't mind. It'd be kind of cool actually. Like, my mom and my favorite player? That's some Wattpad level plot twist."

"Go get your gelato," Shanice laughed, pulling her daughter in for a hug. "Love you."

"Love you too. Even if you're in denial."

Shanice watched Dream skip back to where Alex and Heaven were waiting, then headed for her car. Her phone buzzed before she even reached it.

Unknown number: Lunch tomorrow? For the proposal.

Her heart definitely didn't skip. Nope. Not at all.

Another buzz: This is Marcus, by the way. Your daughter gave me your number.

She was going to kill Dream.

Third buzz: For business purposes only, of course. 😏

That damn smirking emoji. She could see his face when he typed it, all cocky confidence and knowing looks.

Shanice: Schedule it with Maria.

Marcus: Come on, boss. Let me take you to lunch. Professional lunch. Very proper. Very appropriate.

Those three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again.

Marcus: Unless you're scared...

Oh, this little boy thought he could play with her?

Shanice: Fine. One lunch. Professional. And you're not getting my coffee ever again.

Marcus: We'll see 😈

She dropped her phone in her bag like it was burning her fingers. What the hell was she doing? This was beyond stupid. Beyond reckless.

But as she slid into her Porsche, all she could think about was that damn smirk and those abs and the way he'd said "yet."

She was so screwed.

........................tbd

[marzipanilla]

RAGE ! heh. yah.

To just veer off bc I have been rewatching this channels stuff lately - Batman stuff ! (x)

On to the rambles.

Yeah it just felt like every single character came out of the woodwork JUST to say 'wink wink nudge nudge we KNEW you two crazy kids would figure it out eventually!' and ?? why ??? why ?? why did you feel the need for their EXES specifically to give them the go ahead, to even shove them towards it even?? I just ?? surely they have other shit to talk about? Not to mention Rex and Eve's we are traumatized teens bonding was way more interesting then their very shitty romance!

I hate the fucking while I was dying I was thinking of you line too. Yes Mark. When you are panicking and freaked out, clearly that is when your mind is most clear. please. dear god. amid the ethics courses you should have been taking, a few ones about psychology and trauma response would also be good, yes?

lol Hannibal. Yeah. I agree. I love Mads' interview where he like Hannibal is the happiest man I have ever portrayed : ) and its like. he's right tho. That man IS having the time of his life and his falling in love, he is having a GREAT time. beautiful show. need to rewatch it soon.

I was talking to someone else and they compared the whole Eve and her parents situation to 'I wont be gay in the house but you can't stop me from being gay outside' and like. ugh. it really is tho. WHY are you still there. WHY are you so determined to make THESE people your family. You know you were (unknowingly adopted) they AREN'T your only option anymore. You aren't 12. You had TT ! (supposedly) You have NEW friends now!! Stop going back to these people!!

The UTTERLY SILENT (I do like the choice but it is also funny that all that happens is literally without a voice) and completely undiscussed by the main 'moral' force of the show maybe villains have REASONS for what they do opening ??? yeah it was great but it also feels so 'lol look at whats going on in the background! no one will ever realize how complex these situations can be!!' anyway here's Oliver being fucking stupid.

Like yeah, I loved the GoG breakdown/breakup in ep 3, as like a we all need to discuss autonomy and accountability and the messed up world we live and people are both right and wrong- but any of the personal-ness to it is ABSENT bc again.. we have rarely seen these people do anything. Stop calling them your family Samson! NONE of you know each other !! Also him calling out Rudy for playing the odds and then acting like he's all fond of him is wild. Amanda being so thrilled this 19 year old girl is marrying her boss is insane. AND Immortal just invited his own ass back, that shit is hilarious. You know that fucker would make anyone asking to come back jump through hoops.

I have played a bit with the idea of danger blind Debbie and it just.. it makes enough sense to me. Her response to terrible shit happening just being like 'well this is annoying : /' while everyone else is freaking out. I feel like Nolan would have been like ??? squishy human not afraid ??? and Debbie's response like ?? you think you're special bc you can kill me?? literally anything could kill me ! Why should I be afraid of you just bc you're fast and strong? A slow person with an air filled needle could get me !! and Nolan just having to be like : / Okay. I guess I see your point.

Look I find the over all narrative and some of the characters fascinating enough that I WANT to engage with and talk about this media, but honestly, I am such a hater and I don't even try not to be xD Invincible is my BUT YOU COULD BE GOOD IF YOU WERE GOOD fandom fr. 'star wars would be great if it wasn't star wars' is a thing I've seen half-jokingly get thrown around and for me its 'Invincible could be good if they weren't adhering it to the comic' lol

TBH I started a 'Cecil basically becomes Mark's parental figure' story that would take place in my Liar Liar/Man Who Played Wolf AU, but I ended up disliking it so I never really went back to salvage it. Maybe I just need to refocus and honestly just make it about Cecil : /

Honestly given a number of the dumb things the GDA gets up to I wonder how good they are at strategizing lol Like.. I really hoped they would leave out the 'we knew Nolan was lying FROM THE START!' thing, bc.. okay... he's a viltrumite. You have only just recently barely found anything that could hurt them... but... like... 20 years on the planet... and not only did you find nothing you didn't WARN anyone ? like ? where's the contingencies ??? Also I will never get over them not giving that astronaut a medical check up, just so he could go puke up more aliens into his sink. Sometimes I also think they deliberately prevent heroes from getting access to education bc the moment one of those fuckers learns how to strategize then you're ACTUALLY fucked, bc they really do make some dumb decisions in battles. constantly.

Yapping bug ! time for the yappings !!

While I'm not too familiar with the DCU- your batfam meta posts are intiguing- so in transfering some of the broader strokes from them- I think you tackling a 'Mark isn't Nolan's biological son' fic would be fascinating. Sort of a step to the side of the 'what if Mark never got his powers' fic that sometimes pop up in the fandom

OOOOOO chewing on this currently, hm, the much a distinct flavor of exactly what you’re talking about, but the potential for more family drama depending on WHO knows. Does Mark know?? Is he waiting every day only to be crushed? Does he confused non-Debbie features with Nolan’s? I suppose I’m not the most enthusiastic about non-power AUs, but I think there’s something very fun to explore about Mark having to settle with, if he knows all his life, he will never have powers? I think the trajectory of his dreams will obviously shift, I can see him still having that distinct fatherly idolization, but perhaps embraces being useful to the GDA? Cecil’s number one intern—only intern—curtesy of nepotism, ha! There is something tickling me about Mark taking the Robin Route/Role for the Teen Team in terms of having no powers, just insane skills, BUT there’s something way more delicious about intern Mark when s1e01 happens and Mark tries snooping around to find out the truth about what happened to his Dad.

I wonder if, with Mark having a whole another father, if they’re more or less distant relationship, depending on WHEN Nolan entered Mark’s life? Like if Debbie met Nolan later for this, or just for fun, they dated once, separated (Mark being born during then), then they happened to stumble into each others lives again and Mark’s already been born, anywhere from tween to teenager so there’s a gap in how close they are. I feel like one important aspect of the whole Family Drama is how close they’re supposed to be, a functional, loving family turned upside down? So I wonder what more distance does. I wonder how Nolan copes when his family is entirely human and he can’t project onto Mark.

I love thinking about these, omg.

[b4kuch1n]

​​​​            saw you.

[dying-suffering-french-stalkers]

god help me i'm going insane about dickson xenoblade again

[eclarinet]

same soup... different day

[sunnynardelli]

It was never easy to tell when banter was just banter and when there was a little more weight to it. Sunny tried to never read too much into the words of others. She had embarrassed herself more times that she would have liked to admit by thinking people were into her (or worse hated). Unless they were explicitly clear, she would just laugh at it and roll her eyes. Even when they were, she did the same. “I never said it was true just that there are people who think it,” she said, shaking her head. There was definitely truth to that too. “Maybe the people who have had to deal with the real me should start a class action lawsuit against them for misrepresentation.” That’s was definitely an idea. It was definitely better that someone else have to pay it than herself. She wasn’t overly concerned about anyone actually pulling that though. They were more likely to try and come out of the woodwork and sue her for something relating to her business. They could try but she did have a lawyer dad. His focus might not have been bullshit lawsuits but he’d have figured something out or called on favors for friends. “Isn’t it better to be upfront about who you are so there aren’t any misconceptions?” she asked in return to his question. “I mean, maybe it would be better to wait a few times but honestly if they can’t handle the truth why are you even going to want to bother dragging it out. It’s better to run people off immediately.” And she was relatively good at that. That and knowing things about town. “There are. I mean, the trick is finding one’s that aren’t on private property. Trespassing is just the first thing in the quest for possible death.”

Sunny wasn’t a risk taker. Not even remotely. Growing up, she’d always been the kind of person who played it safe. She wasn’t likely to be caught dead jumping off a cliff. She’d tried a thing or two with limited chance of damage or chaos a time or two but she was much more content to keep her days downtown, running her bar or trying different foods. “That’s nearly an impossible feat though. I mean, trust me when I say, it is very rare for the dream to stack up,” she confessed. It was a bit like not meeting your idols, they were bound to disappoint you. She’d definitely put people on a pedestal only to have reality come crashing down on her later. “That is precisely it. I mean, I’m not sure what your after life would have in store for you but there is potential and at the end of the day, that people is enough to enter it with hope. I do have to warn you that she’s a bit of a screamer. Well, crier to be more precise but it comes out like a bit of wail – Maybe a partner in crime is what she needs to knock it out.” It made sense to her in her New Years Sleep Deprived brain. She nodded, willing to accept that neither of them actually wanted him to die. “I do a pretty good job of leaving things in random places on my own though honestly no one has to die to do that sort of things,” she told him. She listened to him talk, nodding as he talked about all the things he wanted to do with his son. She didn’t have any person experience in her life to relate to it but she could understand wanting to teach and encourage your kid to love and appreciate the things that were important to you. “Between your interests and his mom’s, he’s going either going to be the biggest hipster or completely rebel to the music and outdoors and become some sort of straight laced business man. It’ll be entertaining to watch.” You couldn’t really predict whether a person was going to run toward their genetic predispositions or against them. She snorted at the mention of booktok. “It’s okay. Men can be into spicy books too.”

Following and talking along the way was definitely the way to go. She felt a little warmer moving than she did standing around. Then again, moving from the beach and the breeze helped a little in that department as well. “It’s too late,” she said, “I’m afraid the image is already there and soon you will be known as the freezer fuck guy. You’ll be a legend. A questionable legend who people aren’t completely sure if they can trust but a legend never the less.” She did follow and wait, letting herself lounge against the wall while he got into warmer things. Her spiked hot chocolate was practically gone but it was okay since she’d soon have more. “You look less like an popsicle now,” she remarked taking in the sight of him. “And that will do. We don’t have far to go. Hopefully you can manage. I mean, we should start from the top with all the secrets.”

"All varieties of teasing are always on the table." A smirk tugging at his lips before laughing, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, tasting the saltiness of the water that still clung to his skin now. "Now who told you that you had an innocent appearance? Because they were lying, and you should get your money back." If there was one thing Ari could do, he could play the games too, she wanted to tease him, he could easily tease the blonde headed woman, at least she was being gracious enough to have talked to him so he wasn't standing on the beach completely alone, which had been the original plan. "Challenging and difficult, those are the two that you choose to start off with in telling someone about yourself? Brave, brave woman." Clicking his tongue, not sure if he was more impressed, amused, or fascinated by their conversation. "Believe you're supposed to save that information till you meet a person at least -- I don't know say the third time." Holding three of his fingers up as if driving the point really home. Though the blonde could do what she wanted, he just couldn't resist when she had offered up that information. "Mean there's the cliffs here, aren't there? Maybe it's not allowed to cliff jump from them, rocks below -- immediately crushes that rush, er -- figuratively and literally." Or maybe it was more turned into shredded human but there was no point in attempting to give more details to this story.

For Ari he was someone who was always up for an adventure, maybe you wouldn't actually find him cliff jumping but send him on a more difficult hike? Sign the man up. It was something he planned to do more of once the weather settled a bit more in Merrock and he could get outside, feel the crunch of his heavy boots back against the ground, it'd be that feeling of home for him. "That's all I could ever aim to be, a true gentleman, have to live up to someone's dreams." Ari quipped, tugging the towel tighter around his skin. "So you have one ghost lady, and you're willing to promote me. All I'm hearing is I'm winning at ghost life, and in the afterlife I'd at least have a friend, or maybe a ghost girlfriend, mean she's alone, I'm alone, haunting your for the rest of evermore might as well also make a partner out of it." It seemed like the only logical idea.

Giving a set nod, "You're not wrong, not something I want to think about anytime soon, actually happening. As much as haunting you until your last days probably would be far more amusing for me, than you. A person can only handle so many things going missing or ending up in random places before you know." Tapping the side of her temple indicating going a little crazy, but weren't they all in this world? "Definitely have a lot I want to teach him in this world so kind of have to stick around. Want him to learn to enjoy the outdoors, how to be kind and gentle with nature and animals." It was something he knew wouldn't happen for awhile, at least in the bigger sense there'd be years before he was taking him on adventures, but even in small ways he could make a change for the little boy. "Daddy Phantom sounds -- like you've been on booktok. Don't ask how I know about booktok either, you couldn't torture it out of me."

"I said that I'm freezing as fuck! Not that I fuck freezing -- wait, that -- no, definitely did not say that and I'm going to need you to make sure that you don't put out the image to anyone that I'm hanging around meat freezers. Are you trying to give the town of Merrock the idea I'm a serial killer? Not the vibe I'm trying to give, Sunny." As the blonde followed he rolled his eyes, "Apparently I'm far more exciting than you're giving me credit for, but I will take the liquor if you're offering now." Since this had all started over her playfully attempting to show off her spiked hot chocolate. Once inside it didn't take him long to dry off and change, emerging with his own hot drink, now far more suitable in a pair of jeans, his boots, and a simple button up. "Alright, I did make a pit stop for one of these, figure warm up and you show me the direction to this place you intend to take me to liquor me up and tap into all my secrets. Let's see how much game you have."

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

"unicron" being a serious term in transformers lore is bringing me back to my blue sky days. guy with a cigarette looking out the window. i havent heard that name in 84 years

[diremoone]

i feel so inactive here now 😣 feels strange.

[deerest-me]

been meaning to write / create something about my experiences with researching suicide methods my whole life (happy september!), but for now i'll just say it really is amusing to see how obscure knowledge from it comes up in my day to day life.

prussian blue is probably my favorite example. i remember i impressed a friend by knowing the answer to some crazy trivia question and they asked how i knew and like. i guess i cant just say ``i had a morbid obsession with planning to give myself thallium poisoning and how to disguise the cause from medical staff so they dont administer prussian blue, or i at least slow them down enough''

also funnily enough, knowing that made me decode one of the central conceits of a fanfic series (hi sable!) before i even sat down to read past the titles.

life really is just kinda nuts.