#blonde nam

[whocanitbenow23]

Thinking about these rn

[cassiefromhell]

The Game

Nanami x Wife!Reader

wc: 2.7k

warnings: f!reader, mdni/18+, smut, teasing, ROUGH, manhandling, gentle choking, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering a/n: this is a combination of my reaction to the latest jjk ep and a general need for manhandling nanami.

You know exactly what is coming for you.

You can feel his eyes on you from across the room. Watching you. 

Watching his pretty little wife play games that she’d lose. 

Because you have one goal in mind: piss off your husband, Nanami Kento.

Which is not an easy task. But you had pissed him off once before, a few weeks ago, and had been insatiably craving more. His reaction that night was… his hands in your hair, throwing you back against the bed, the words out of his mouth—

You can’t help but blush a little at the memories that flood your head now, as you speak to a man twice your age at this party. You know this man thinks he has a chance with you. He came up to you earlier, and is now flirting with you relentlessly, seeming blind to the ring on your marriage finger which marks you as claimed. 

You giggle a little at something he says, taking your poker and stabbing at the fire. You sip the glass of wine in your hands. There’s no need to look over your shoulder to confirm; Kento is most decidedly watching you.

And that fire? It’s growing.

You can feel the way your white silk mini dress has ridden up your thighs a little, but you don’t do anything to fix it, no matter how much the skin on the back of your thighs sizzles and sears under his scorched gaze.

All it takes is for the man to reach out, try to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, and the flame explodes.

Hands are on your waist in an instant, a cotton-covered, firm chest pressed against your back. You know that chest. Those hands.

“I think it’s time for us to get going, don’t you think, dear?” Kento grits out, his thumbs digging into your skin. A warning.

“Oh,” you pout, turning your head to look up at him. You’re met with a hard-set jaw and cold eyes, as your husband stares down the inferior man who got a centimeter too close. “But it’s raining. We’ll have to wait for it to slow down a bit, or have a valet bring the car around, we’re parked a block away—”

“We’ll walk. Goodbye,” he flashes the tightest, fakest smile you’ve ever seen, and then turns you towards the elevator, pushing you in that direction.

And what choice do you have? You half walk, half stumble forward, his hands never faltering in their iron grip the whole walk over. He stops you in front of the elevator.

“Button,” he commands, jerking his chin towards the panel with two buttons, one an up arrow and the other down.

“Why do I have to do it?”

“It seems that if I let you go for half a second, you’ll run off and let yourself get eye-fucked by a nobody in a cheap suit. Button,” he growls, his hands tightening their grip, causing your sides to protest.

You whimper softly, reaching out and pressing the down button. It glows a soft blue, and you tilt your head to the side, gazing up at your angry, blond man. “What’s got you in such a frenzy? I was socializing—”

He scoffs. “Socializing. Sure. I know the game you’re playing, and might I remind you that it’s a game you can’t win, darling.”

You swallow hard, fighting back a flinch as the elevator dings, and the doors slide open. 

Empty.

Kento shuffles you both inside, and holds the ‘close doors’ button so hard that you’re afraid it might actually crack.

The elevator doors slide closed, and he releases you, taking two steps back.

Suddenly, the air is so thick that you can hardly breathe, and the thought of the fingerprint bruises he’s likely left on you fills your head.

“Ke—”

“No. No more words from you,” he spits out, practically punching the ground floor button.

You pout, and take a step towards him. “‘Nam, c’mon,” you poke that damned fire again, just waiting for it to burn you.

And it does.

His arm snaps out, his hand gripping your chin, tilting your head up. “I said, quiet.”

That sharp anger in his eyes makes your stomach flutter, abdomen tensing. You bite your bottom lip, and try your luck. “You’re a little angry, huh?”

Your back is against the wall before you can even process what’s happened, before you recognize that he’s shoved you into the corner of the elevator, one hand gripping your neck and the other pressed firmly against your hip, keeping you in place. His body is fully pressed to yours, and the straining bulge you feel is unmistakable.

“Angry? You have no idea,” he says, his voice having dropped to an eerily calm tone. “I want to throw you onto the ground of this damned elevator and make you suck me off right here, right now. I want to fuck your throat, and then that kinky little cunt of yours, until you are sobbing and begging me to stop.”

Your breath catches in your throat— no, it completely stops. You’re no longer breathing.

“Then do it.”

He gives a breathy chuckle, suddenly spinning you around, a hand knotting in your hair and shoving your cheek against the wall. And then he leans down, presses his lips against your ear, and…

“No. You’d like that too much.”

You whine, straining against his grip on you. Kento is usually ever the gentleman, the perfect white picket fence husband. He brings you roses each Friday and a piece of your favorite cake every Tuesday, and fucks the shit out of you each day when he returns from missions. But he’s so… polite, all the time, his touch gentle and his voice soft. He’s the type to rest his hand on your thigh while he drives, and carry you bridal style into the house.

But this Kento… This Kento is the reason you’re trying to piss him off. Because you unlocked the manhandling, relentless Kento once, and now can’t get enough of it.

Suddenly, the hand on your neck drops down, down, down to your thighs, and then up under your skirt. Kento’s fingers ghost over your bare pussy, straight up laughing when he realizes you’re wearing no underwear. But the laughter is harsh, and sends shivers down your spine.

“You really planned this, didn’t you dear.” It’s more of a statement than a question.

“Can you blame me?” You murmur, trying to grind down on his hand, the hand which is now cupping your dripping cunt, the heel of his hand juuuust below your clit. “Please.”

“We’re almost on our floor,” Kento suddenly releases you, fixing your dress with a soft touch and taking two steps back. 

You open your mouth to complain, but right on cue, the elevator doors slide open. Kento presses a hand against the small of your back, forcibly guiding you out of the elevator, and across the plaza, out to the main doors.

Where it’s pouring.

You pause outside the glass doors, crossing your arms across your chest. “No. It’s pouring.”

Kento sighs, but looks you over, and realizes it at the same moment as you do; you’re wearing white.

And Kento is a gentleman.

“I’ll bring the car around. You stay right here, you understand me?”

You nod, and he’s out the doors in an instant.

You find yourself shifting on your feet as you wait, your heels really starting to do a number on you. You keep fixing your dress, trying to ignore how you’re wetter than the rain outside.

Your feet have not moved an inch when your familiar white BMW M8 pulls up to the doors, and your husband gets out of the driver's seat, umbrella in hand.

And he is soaking wet.

His blue shirt sticks to his chest, not hiding any of the rippling muscle along his entire torso. He’s discarded his gray suit jacket, but the pants have darkened a shade due to the rain. His hair sticks to his face, blond locks drenched.

You can’t help the blush that rises to your cheeks when you realize how close you are to being able to make out his dick print, and that only worsens when he walks through those doors, headed straight for you.

“I didn’t move,” you murmur as he takes your arm, gripping your bicep tightly and heading for the exit once more.

“That earns you no brownie points tonight.”

Kento opens the umbrella as he drags you outside, holding it over your head. Not a drop of water hits you as he escorts you to the car, and then opens the door to the back seat.

You raise a brow. “Backseat?”

“So you can’t touch me,” he replies, and then promptly sweeps your feet out from under you, catches you, and tosses you into the back seat.

You yelp as your back hits the leather, and the door is closed immediately. Kento is in the driver’s seat before you can blink, staring at you in the rear view mirror. 

You buckle yourself up, and he seems satisfied, putting the car into drive and pulling out of the parking lot at a speed that’s probably too fast.

You chew your bottom lip, watching his hair drip onto his face, watching his hands white-knuckle the steering wheel, watching his foot press the accelerator.

“You’ll catch a cold,” you murmur, leaning forward and running a hand over his hair, trying to squeeze some of the water out.

His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your fingers away from his head. “No touching.”

You pout, unbuckling yourself and scooting forward, pressing your face against his neck. “Kentoooo…”

You feel the change in his demeanor immediately. He tenses, and reaches back to grip your hair, yanking your head away from him.

“That’s it,” he hisses, and pulls the car into an empty parking lot, putting it in park.

He’s out of the driver’s seat instantly, coming around to the back, and climbing into the back seat.

You have to fight back your victorious grin, but he doesn’t have the same plans as you do, because he grabs you, and pulls you out of the car and into the rain.

“Kento—”

His mouth crashes into yours, and he grabs your chin tightly, his other hand holding your waist to his. You whimper into his mouth, trying to ignore the cold rainwater that’s certainly making your white dress translucent.

He pulls away just when you begin to shiver, then drags you around the car, putting you into the passenger seat and slamming the door. He appears back in the driver’s seat in an instant, his jaw once again set and eyes cold as ice.

“What happened to the no touching rule?” You grin, kicking off your heels.

“Better idea.”

He pulls back onto the road, eyes staying on the path ahead, all while his hand starts to make its way under your skirt.

You realize what he’s doing just as a finger plunges into you, sliding easily with your wetness. You groan loudly, whimpering as his thumb grazes your clit.

He slides in a second finger, and starts pulling them out and pushing them back in, all while stimulating your clit.

It hardly takes any time at all for you to be whimpering and grinding against his hand, gripping the door for support and leverage.

With a few more strokes and swipes of his thumb, that coil in your abdomen begins to tighten, your cunt clenching around his fingers. “Ah— oh, shit…”

Kento withdraws his hand, and you open your mouth to protest, then realize he’s pulled the car into your garage, and is putting it in park.

And he presses the garage door closing button.

And then waits, both hands on the steering wheel, as the garage door closes.

The second that the concrete meets the door, Kento turns his head to look at you, all needy and desperate with pleas begging to escape your lips.

“You really want me to be rough with you?” he asks, his brows stitched together in concern.

“Wherever would you have gotten that impression?” you drone, raising a brow sarcastically. “I want to get the ever-loving shit fucked out of me.”

“You want to be hurt?”

“A little. I liked last time,” you murmur, allowing your mind to slip back a little bit, back to that night that had left you both bruised and begging for more.

“There are better ways to go about this than pissing me off,” your husband narrows his eyes, jaw clenching.

“This is the authentic way.”

“You’re spoiled, you know that?”

“You’re hard as fuck, you feel that?” your eyes flick to the bulge under his pants zipper.

That’s enough to send Kento flying out of the car, and before you know it, he’s opening your door, dragging you out by your bicep.

You yelp, stumbling forward as his grip on you — which is covered in your slick — remains firm. He pulls you into the house, and your back is pressed against a wall immediately, his mouth on yours, hand around your throat.

Kento pulls you up the wall, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your aching cunt against his shirt. He roots his fingers in your hair, tugging just enough to be a bit painful.

Clearly he’s done waiting, because his dick is out within seconds, and he’s pulling up your dress. You whimper once the fabric is bunched up around your waist, gripping his shoulders.

“Please…”

“You think that’s enough?” he scoffs, tugging your hair and tilting your head back. “You flirt with another man, nearly let him touch you, act like a brat, and you expect me to just give it to you?” Nevertheless, he presses the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with the slightest bit of pressure. 

“Fuck—” you whine, groaning softly. The hand holding you up digs into your skin. “I’ll be good— jesus, please. I need you.”

Kento slaps your ass, and then thrusts nearly his entire thick length in at once, causing you to cry out, tears coming to your eyes. He immediately starts a bruising pace, fucking you into the wall so god damn hard that a picture frame nearby rattles.

You whimper as his cock reaches that sweet spot once— and then again, and again, until you’re matching each thrust with a tilt of your hips and a moan.

“Fuck— there you go, baby,” he grits out, yanking on your hair. “Take it all.”

That familiar cool begins to tighten, your abdomen tensing as he picks up his pace even more, and you wonder how it’s possible — untll you look down and realize he’s using the tiniest bit of cursed energy to fuck the actual shit out of you.

“Cum for me, come on. You wanted this so bad, so cum on my dick.”

And that’s enough to send you tumbling over the edge, stars flooding your vision and a long string of curses leaving your lips like a prayer.

His thrusts grow a little sloppier, and he spills himself into you with a hiss, leaving little nips along your jawline. 

“I’m not close to being done with you, just as a fair warning,” he growls, and then tosses you over his shoulder.

At this point, you’re half dead.

But also half alive, kept awake by Kento’s hands rubbing circles along your skin, the bubbly bath water tickling your breasts. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to a bruise on your shoulder.

You give a half-babbled response, leaning into his warmth more.

“Full sentences, please.”

“Mm.. I love you,” you manage, turning to face him. You press your face into his neck and inhale his scent.

“I love you too.”

A long pause comes, with Kento just rubbing circles into your bruised sides. Then, he speaks.

“Now, what did we learn?”

“That pissing off the husband results in mind-blowing sex.”

He draws a sharp breath in, and smacks your shoulder gently. “No, no. We learned that we don’t have to piss the husband off, we just have to use our words and plan a date for these things.”

“That’s not very authentic.”

“Do I have a shot at winning this?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Alright.”

[cuffmeinblack]

Crimson Sheets

Ron Weasley x f!reader

Tags: explicit | period sex | blood | cunnilingus | menophilia??

1.5k words

Summary: Ron doesn't let a silly little thing like menstruation stop perfectly good morning sex.

A/n: I feel like I should apologise. Eh. But seriously if period sex gives you the squick obviously don't read!

Sheer torture.

That's what this was. 

Your skin heated with the flush of arousal, every gentle flick of Ron's tongue against your lips sending your heart hammering against your rib cage. There was no escaping this without the bitter pang of disappointment and the resultant hours spent in agonising frustration.

With all the regret in the world, you pulled away from the heated kiss, panting and fingers flexing around the fabric of his shirt, held together by a mere two buttons. You’d been busy unpicking them when you’d had the bitter realisation that you had to stop. 

Ron's eyelids fluttered, lips still parted as his groggy mind caught up to what you’d just done. He looked adorable, confused and entirely fuckable—and therein lay the problem. You groaned and covered your face with your hands, willing the throbbing ache between your legs to dull.

“What's wrong? Not feeling it?” He'd never been very good at keeping his emotions from his voice; you could hear the barely masked disappointment, the hint of concern.

“No! I mean yes, God, yes I am, but…fuck.” Your fingers slid down your cheeks, looking up into Ron's eyes that sparkled in the gentle dawn light, shadows dancing across his fiery ruffled hair. “I just can't. You know…” You gestured vaguely to where your bodies met, his morning glory pressed against you. It wasn't enough, could never be enough; the tantalising friction never quite brought the relief you desperately sought. Another low groan left your mouth, hips shifting in surrender—it would have to do. “M’on my period,” you muttered.

Ron, rather than simply rolling off you or wincing in disgust, merely licked his lips and his gaze continued to linger on where you were pressed together. When he finally looked at you through hooded eyes, framed in those pretty blond lashes, he did so with a devilishly crooked smile. He shrugged with one shoulder, resuming his slow grinding against your aching core. “Doesn't bother me.” And then his lips were once again pressed to yours, firmer, his tongue slipping between your parted lips.

“Ron…,” you gasped, further debate captured by his increasingly heated kiss. His hands were roaming, shedding his layers. 

Thank Merlin.

You kissed him back eagerly, fingers tracing the waistband of his pyjama trousers before tugging them down, grabbing a handful of his behind to pull him closer, desperate for more friction. He grinned against your lips and shuffled out of the last of his clothes, kneeling before you completely unabashed. His cock stood proud, thick and glistening; your core throbbed in response.

He was staring hungrily at your curves, sliding your vest up and shorts down to expose as much skin as possible, and then it hit you—shyness. Your hand flew out and grabbed his wrist. “Don’t look, I need to take off—”

“Don’t be daft, I’m not afraid of a bit of blood,” he scoffed.

There was no deterring him, as much as it pained you to see him ogling your knickers with a blood-stained pad clinging to them for dear life. To his credit, he didn’t bat an eyelid, didn’t seem to care at all; merely threw them over his shoulder and resumed kneading every inch of flesh he could find with a mesmerised sort of worship whilst his erection twitched with want.

Ron took a palm full of your tender breast and lowered himself on top of you, lips finding the sensitive skin behind your ear. Kissing, licking and murmuring praises, he sent you into a pleasure-filled stupor where nothing else mattered but his touch. He trailed down your body, his copper mop fisted tightly in your hand.

The ache between your legs grew painful as he took his sweet time, breathing so ragged you could scarcely call his name between gasping for air. When finally you felt him nip at your hip bone, your eyes flew wide in realisation of where he was and what he intended to do.

“Ron, what—”

“Just relax, will you?” He tutted and planted two large hands on your thighs, spreading your legs wide with a firm grip that invited no debate before shuffling to get comfortable on the bed between them. 

All you could do was gape, disbelieving. You almost shoved him away in shame, but what exactly was there to be shameful of? Ron was busy kissing your inner thighs, tinged pink with blood, entirely unperturbed and moaning happily as he did so. You loosened the grip on his hair and he looked up at you, smirking, before delving between your thighs with renewed vigour.

His tongue found its mark almost immediately. A great shiver ran up your spine as he licked between your folds, right over your sensitive clit. He pushed your legs higher, firmly planted against his shoulders, and nestled deeper.

“Fucking hell,” was all you could manage to say as he licked and sucked without hesitation, barely drawing breath. He was clearly enjoying himself, just as much as he usually did when he’d beg to taste you; even as you saw red blooming on his cupid’s bow and the tip of his nose, he didn’t falter. 

Your combined moans filled the room, almost deafening amongst the wet, squelching sounds emanating from between your legs. Your face was already too heated to blush, and he was far too distracting to give the mess much thought. Your orgasm didn’t merely creep up on you; it ramped up so swiftly your head spun, until you were gripping the sheets and arching your back clean off them, gasping Ron’s name with an uninhibited plea.

His eyes fixed upon you so intently it might’ve been unnerving, yet was so beautifully intimate as he wordlessly coaxed forth your release. When he added two fingers inside you, you finally let go. Stars erupted in your vision as you reached your climax and fell into blissful oblivion, the orgasm so intense you almost cried with relief.

“Th’s’it,” Ron mumbled, before returning his mouth to you, gently lapping in rhythm to the waves of pleasure threatening to drown you. His fingers curled inside you, languorously pumping in and out, as if beckoning more, more, more. “You’re so bloody beautiful, fuck…”

It might have been a mere minute later, yet felt like an eternity before you could finally manage to prop yourself on your elbows, dizzy and enveloped in a heavenly haze. Ron smiled up at you, and he looked like he’d been caught in a massacre. Red streaked his chin, his nose; his lips stained so darkly with fresh blood it reminded you of a vampire caught feasting on his prey.

“I…what a mess,” you said weakly. He still had his fingers inside you, lazily caressing. He licked his lips again and smiled.

“You still taste amazing,” he replied, blinking slowly.

You let out a shaky laugh, still helplessly aroused; either in despite of or because of the sight, you weren’t sure. Though your muscles protested, you sat up, intending to push Ron back on the side of the bed still unmarred, but he had other plans.

“I’m not done with you yet.” His voice was low and husky, dripping with lust, and the fire in his eyes caught you by surprise.

“I thought I'd repay the favour,” you said by way of explanation, but clearly he didn’t want your hand, or your mouth.

“I need to be inside you.” He clambered over you, and you fell back against the mattress. Hands stained crimson pinned you beneath him, thighs spreading your legs wide once more. His cock prodded at your slick entrance, twitching eagerly. He looked feral, animalistic, almost.

“You like this, don’t you?” 

He answered with a hard thrust, one swift motion that filled you completely. “You have no idea,” he rasped. He pulled out slowly before plunging back inside with a low groan. “You feel so good.”

There was no stopping him, and you had no intention of doing so. Every nerve ending you possessed seemed sensitised, and his relentless pounding turned you into a limp and boneless mess that knew only pleasure and nothing of your own name. He held you tightly, his knuckles white, hips snapping with synchronised moans. You thought you managed to say his name but it only came out as a whimper when your walls fluttered around him, another orgasm consuming the last of your ability to form coherent speech.

“That’s it, come for me…” Ron gasped, his gaze fixed where he continued to pound into you, watching intently as you squeezed around him. “Fucking hell, babe, you’re such a mess.”

He said it not laughing or with disgust but in awe, utterly transfixed. “I’m gonna…”

“Come inside me, Ron,” you whimpered.

He needed no more encouragement; with a shudder and an ear splitting moan, his orgasm exploded, filling you with his release. Each pulse of his cock came with a new gasp or expletive, his head thrown back but eyes still on you. Soon you were dripping cum on the ruined bed sheets as he thrusted slowly inside you, unable to take any more. 

You had nothing left to give; you were ruined.

Ron slumped down next to you, and you lapsed into astonished silence for several minutes before you both tried to break it at once.

“That was ama—”

“Best sex ev—”

You both laughed, relieved that the other felt the same. 

When you looked down at your bodies, legs now entwined and Ron’s hands firmly encircling your waist, you smiled. The blood would wash off with the sweat and other bodily fluids once you stood under the shower; just another to add to the steady stream of water. All those days you’d shied away from intimacy for fear of disgusting him now felt like wasted opportunities.

“What are you thinking?” he finally asked.

“That it’s a shame. I really liked these bed sheets.”

[dangermousie]

A love letter to late 00s/early10s kdramas? More likely than you may think

I have watched the first two eps (30m each) of the just premiered My Military Valentine with Nam Guyri and Kim Min Seok and I have discovered the most glorious time machine to 2008-2012.

A disclaimer - if you came to kdramas relatively recently, this really isn't a drama for you. But for those of us who used to watch and adore kdramas of mid-to-late 00s/very early 10s (I got into kdramas around 06), this is a very deliberate and knowing tribute and is designed to evoke a sense of nostalgia for back then dramas which it does brilliantly.

I feel as if I somehow time traveled to 15 years back or perhaps stumbled on a kdrama from that period I have not seen yet. It is such a delicious homage.

The premise is pretty straightforward - in an AU where South Korea and North Korea are close to reunification, a popular South Korean superstar and a North Korean commando cross paths and then he ends up having to serve in her unit. She's a consummate military officer, he's boyish and even immature but genuinely good-hearted. If you are screaming into your hands "this is off-brand King2Hearts with Spy MyungWol thrown in OMGGGGGGGG!" then you are the target audience.

EVERYTHING about this drama is old-school, deliberately so. The plot (even the idea of reunion was much more popular in dramas back then than it is now when I think it's much more fraught and distant), the setting (it is not set in 2024 but something like 2010), the characters (the ML is the immature protag romcoms in 00s used to love, FL is a good-hearted stern naive NK lady), the look (the way it's filmed is 100% from back then, with news montages, ML's frosted hair, the side part of the NK agent dude, the shots down from buildings, FL's whole vibe and look, the camera work, the lack of certain filters. Even the fact that neither of protags looks super polished and ML has a certain soft-faced and not starving look is reminiscent of early 00s dramas.)

Shot from the drama:

For comparison, here is Eric Mun in 2011 Spy Myung Wol as a top star in a drama about a North Korean Agent x SK celeb:

And with NK agent OTP:

Here is the OTP of 2012 King 2 Hearts, about a South Korean prince and NK commando:

Lee Byung Hun and his bleach blond hair in Beautiful Days from 2003:

Kim Rae Won and his soft face and light hair in Say You Love Me (2004):

And now, look at this song number from My Military Valentine. If it doesn't scream "Obama just got elected for his first term," I don't know what to tell you:

And the kiss as means of air transfer, old school style JUST I CAN'TTTTT:

[elliespuns]

Can we talk about how talented the the last of us concept artists are? Not only does it paint a picture for us but it translates to their emotions & personality’s through there facial expressions.

The first bottom picture reads ‘Dina starts to doubt if the bloodshed & distress are worth the outcome as she dresses Ellie’s wounds’.

You can see the embarrassment & pain on Ellie’s face while being taken care of, while Dina concentrating on how to sew up her wounds is doubting if all this revenge is good for Ellie.

‘Ellie feels a deep love for her son, but her trauma threatens the safety of the tiny family. Below the concepts of Ellie carrying the baby while doing routine chores around the farm’

Those one shows the love Ellie truly has for JJ & Dina, but her PTSD & trauma is so bad that she physically nor is mentally stable enough as much as she tries (also LOOK AT JJS LITTLE SHOES!!! So cute!!)

‘The prologue to the game gives us our first & only look at Joel’s daughter, Sarah. Although Sarah is much more innocent, it was important to establish her as a down-to-earth girl who shares many qualities with Ellie. Sarah’s look needed to feel authentic & clearly show her relationship with Joel, while at the same time establishing her as a distinct character with her own sense of style. Her facial features are based on the actress who played & voiced her, Hanna Hayes’

I love that they really made Sarah her own concept art, yes she is important to show the relationship with Joel but then again putting her in a way that she IS her OWN character & not just a side character. & it really shows & connects to how Joel really finds & connects to Ellie seeing the light of Sarah he needed after all those years, something to fight for again, something to look forward to no matter how much Ellie hurt him, because deep down he saw her as a daughter when he denied his own feelings in chapter 1. Ellie knew she wasn’t his daughter, & made it clear in the second game. Showing how much her relationship changed with Joel going from. “I see you as my dad” to “ I am Not your daughter.”

Artists: Hyoung Taek Nam, John Sweeney (pic 1 & 2) , Alex Neonekis, John Sweeney (pic 3), & I can’t find the artist for Sarah’s concept art

Anyway, I’m gonna not go anonymous anymore! But I’ll add my emoji just in case - 🕸️

This is such a beautiful ask. What always got me about the concept art was how fitting it was to the final results of the game. When you think about it, the concept art was created long before the game even started developing. There were just some ideas and concepts (hence the art), but no scrip (at least not the whole thing, maybe like scraps), and yet when we look back at most of these arts, we can see how close they are to the characters we learned to love. This is what I call a precise job. You can see the game was done with love in the heart. 

The scene where Dina is taking care of Ellie is so well done. Be it on the concept art or on the screen, There's so much pain in Ellie in that scene; you wouldn't even have to see that she's all shaken, covered in blood, and crying. All you can do is close your eyes and listen to her voice when she speaks to Dina. Chills.

What I always found very interesting about Sarah, though, was why they chose to make her blond. This makes me even more curious about Joel's ex-wife because, this way, Sarah looks more like Tommy's daughter than Joel's (not suggesting that's true, lol). Looking at the concept art, there are versions of Sarah with darker hair. I wonder why they decided to make her blond all of a sudden. As if it had a reason and they were planning to show us a little of Joel's (blond) ex-wife in Part 3? Hm, who knows?

[moonbyulsstuff]

I loved the Sovieshu x male reader !

Now I want to see them being lovey dovey and reader using his magic to help his boyfriend lessen his work and being a badass whenever someone tries to flirt / mess with his lover

I Won't Let Him Steal You From Me.

Male Reader

Requested

Request Rules.

Masterlist.

Ever since that day when [Name] came back, Sovieshu has been happier than ever. Being able to see his lover everyday and bring back trinkets back from his own world, and just being able to see his face was more than enough to make Sovieshu day much better than ever.

And of course, [Name] would help with Sovieshu works so he could do them much faster so that they can spend time with each other. It was obvious to everyone that the two were deeply in love with each other and will do anything for each other, and today [Name] had promised Sovieshu he will bring him to his world, Sovieshu was scared and excited to say the least. It was a new world after all, he doesn't know anything about [Name] world, but he was excited to know and see the world where his lover lived throughout his life.

"Ready sweetie?" [Name] asked Sovieshu, holding his hand softly, rubbing his thumb over the his knuckle. He smiled at [Name], nodding his head. "Yes, I am ready... though a bit nervous." He said as [Name] chuckled* "It will be alright, I promise. I will be by your side throughout." [Name] said as Sovieshu nodded, he took a deep breath as they went through the portal.

Sovieshu felt dizzy as the world spin around him, everything surge past him. He held [Name] hand tightly before he felt everything stopped, he opened his eyes and saw that they had arrived in [Name] world, they were in the room, he looked around and they were a ton of books on the shelf, a huge window, a nice bed and a desk.

He presumed that this was [Name] room. "We've arrived." [Name] said chuckling a bit seeing Sovieshu expression of dizziness. "Dizzy? Don't worry, I felt dizzy too when I first started transporting through worlds." He said as Sovieshu nodded, [Name] let go of his hand and went to his closet as Sovieshu admired the room.

Sovieshu sat down on [Name] bed, it was comfy. [Name] then came back out of the closet with clothes he usually wore in this world, he then threw another pair of clothing towards Sovieshu who caught them.

"Wear this, so that you won't stand out like a sore thumb. Nobody usually wear those type of clothing here in my world."

He nodded and took off his clothes while [Name] stood there and watched, a small smirk on his face as he watched his boyfriend change clothes. After Sovieshu finishing changed into the clothing his boyfriend gave them, he saw the smirk on [Name] face. Sovieshu chuckled.

"What are you doing?" Sovieshu chuckled as [Name] shook his head and approached him, wrapping his arms around him. Nuzzling his face against the crook of Sovieshu neck. "Nothing, just admiring my handsome boyfriend." [Name] said which cause Sovieshu to chuckle.

After that, [Name] showed Sovieshu show what his world was like. Modern technologies with magic, it was such a different world from his. The way the place looked to the way people dressed and people's job, it was fascinating to Sovieshu.

"[Name]!" The two turned around as [Name] dreaded seeing the person. "Hey... Lorenzo..." [Name] greeted as the guy named Lorenzo stopped right in front of them and chuckled seeing the expression on the H/C haired face.

"What? Not happy to see me?" [Name] rolled his eyes before Lorenzo looked at Sovieshu beside him. "Oh la la, who is this handsome fe-" Sovieshu's eyes widened when he felt [Name] hand on his waist tightened and pulled him closer, glaring at Lorenzo.

"My boyfriend, Sovieshu." He said, making sure to emphasize the boyfriend part to Lorenzo who chuckled and rolled his eyes at [Name] obvious jealousy. "Don't get your panties a twist [Name]." Lorenzo said only pissing [Name] further.

"Well, gotta go. See ya." The blonde left as Sovieshu looked at his boyfriend, [Name] was still pissed seeing Lorenzo which made Sovieshu curious at their relationship. "Who was that?" He asked as they started walking back to [Name] house.

"My ex boyfriend." Sovieshu's eyes widened. "Eh? Your ex?" He said in disbelief as [Name] nodded. "Yeah, he almost was a flirtatious man that couldn't stop flirting with other people. I broke it off." [Name] said as Sovieshu nodded but he a felt a little jealousy.

"Don't worry." He looked at [Name]. "I don't have feelings for him anymore and I'm sure I won't let him steal you from me." Sovieshu heart fluttered as he chuckled, smiling happily at him. "Yeah, he won't."

[precious-little-scoundrel]

What is Elvis like as a father in law? I pretty much see him treating Donna and any of the other women who join the family similar to how he talked to fans at times. Everyone is darlin ', sweetheart, honey hahaha. Wanting to take everyone under his wing and spoil em. Especially Donna because she basically saves two of his kids.

This man -you’ve nailed it.

He loves people. We’ve established this. He adores his kids. Now, people who love his kids? Oh that’s just a beautiful upper tier of love from him. He loves them, he squirrels them away in rooms just one on one to grill them about their interest in a off-putting but lovingly intense way. He inducts them into the family with all the pomp and circumstance of a born performer while also taking care to give them private and subtle assurances of his welcome.

Of course there was Ella‘s fella Johnny, and the time Elvis put his dumb blonde head through the penthouse drywall. But that was no aspersion against Johnny’s good character, his valiant service to the nation as a soldier in ‘Nam or any real man-to-man dislike. It was entirely to do with a red blooded man marrying his 18-year-old baby. Elvis had sworn as a young father he’d kill anyone who came for Ella: Johnny can be glad he only has a permanent goose-egg back there from the incident. A few months of good intentions and proof that Ella is happy with her choice and all can be forgiven. Besides, Elaine seems charmed by Johnny and Elvis hates being anything but on the same page as Tink. 

Now Jack’s lady, she is a whole Lotta woman, so much Woman that some idiots might call her masculine, but that’s just her broad shoulders and brusque attitude leading you astray. Live and let live, Elvis believes, and he can sympathize with Jack. He knows a thing or two about the positive affects of your lady not letting you get away with shit. Or conversely only allowing you to in her company or under her supervision. It only takes Elvis a few months to get a read on Vic and stop trying to spoil her with jewels or perfume, instead he buys her cigars in the vain hope that she’ll stop swiping his. 

And then of course there is Danny and his precious Bee, raised most of her summers at Graceland and practically a Presley child until Shiloh had to play matchmaker and Danny had to make it weird and marry her. Oh well, at least they’re compatible and Elvis already approves.

And there’s Rosalee and her Sam Harrison, who Elvis likes well enough as he’s the son of an army buddy, even if the fool boy married someone else in the interim

and Daisy’s bloke ain’t half bad for being British, being known as Rosalee‘s kind professor, he’s got brownie points in the Presley family before Daisy attached herself to him, he’s a calming influence on that wild child and the rest of them, someone for Elvis to smoke with and talk about spiritual things.

And then there’s Donna. Now, Elvis does not have favorites, alright? He really doesn’t, Donna’s not his favorite. Don Don can’t be, as she is not a favorite, she is a fairy, a precious angel sent from above to patch up his babies and bring joy to their household. Whenever sweet Don Don is not being clutched by Jesse or gossiping with Jack or posing for Marie, her tiny self is tucked under Elvis’ armpit while he shows her his latest hyper fixation. She’s written many a caption for a polaroid after he complained of his bad handwriting and morosely wished upon a star within her earshot for some young helper to come along and aid him. Donna didn’t expect Elvis Presley to be so endearingly human -but he is, and it almost makes her forgive that horrid nickname.

…and then take into account the grand-babies that come from these…

[incorrectskzquotes]

I'm going to be dying my hair before I go to the Eric Nam concert in a couple weeks! Help me decide which colour to go!

This will also be the colour of my hair when I get my top surgery next month!

[xxforestfairyxx]

The Time Before

2,592 words

an: This is my first time writing, so please be kind!

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of smoking, mentions of disease, hospitals, cats (?), angst, sadness (Let me know if I missed anything!)

================================================

Wayne Munson classifies his life into two parts. The separator is that one fateful night that his young nephew was dropped at his front door in the middle of the night by a teary-eyed mother who offered a promise of her return. This marker leaves two pieces; the time during Eddie, and the Time Before.

The Time Before is not something that Wayne likes to talk about. The Time Before was so far away now it didn't seem real. If he thought about it too much, he would question if he hadn't just dreamed up the whole thing. But no; it was real. All of it.

He had a child, Lisa. Lisa was now just another memory from the Time Before; what seemed to be someone else's life. Someone else's child. She was happy: little blonde pigtails springing from the sides of her head, soft cotton clothes so small he couldn't believe that any human could start out that tiny. He could still remember the smell; god, the smell. It was baby powder and springtime. That's the way he remembers it. He was so careful about smoking around her, too; he didn't want her to smell like an ashtray. He would only smoke outside when she wasn't there so that the smell of tobacco wouldn't stick to her clothes or hair.

Lisa's mama was a one-night escapade; the kind of thing that's great in the moment and never happens again. After getting home from 'Nam in the early 60s, he and his buddies indulged in the nightlife that they missed out on during their stints. He never even knew her name. But when the baby was left on his doorstep with a small bag of supplies and a note for explanation, Wayne worried. He had never planned on having kids. He didn't know if he could give this little girl the life she needed. But he tried.

He had no idea what he was doing, but as she grew he realized that he must've done something right. She was talkative by the time she turned three; ever the conversationalist. He beamed as he realized she got that from him. In fact, she got most of her traits from him; her musky blue eyes, her eagerness to move, her inability to sit still. He knew that was going to be a problem once she started school, but goddamnit, he didn't care. In his eyes, she could do no wrong.

It lasted five years. Five years of trips to the park. Five years of ice cream runs. Five years of little grabby hands that were telling him, 'Pick me up, Dad, please?' Five years of her short little giggles that were so contagious that even after she dumped all the baking flour onto the floor and made a snow angel, he couldn't be mad. He was never mad at her for long.

But, unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Wayne knew that. But he always thought that he would be the first to go. That it would last longer than it did.

When Lisa woke him up for the third time crying in the night, he thought it would be fine. He convinced himself it would all be fine. She had been sick for the past three days. It looked like a typical cold; she was running a fever, coughing, sneezing. But it had gotten worse in the last few hours; she was waking up to puke. She had so far thrown up three times in the last hour. She was complaining that her stomach hurt. He was trying to get her to calm down and go to sleep. But she kept crying, saying her stomach hurt.

When he ran into her room for the third time that night and flipped on the light, he knew something was really wrong. Her hands we clammy as they grabbed at him, holding onto his arm tightly, and her skin... a sinking feeling grew in his chest as he realized that her skin had grown jaundiced and pale. The small girl would shake in his arms every time she coughed, sobs racking through her body as she moaned and clutched her stomach.

He knew he had to do something. She was getting worse by the second, drifting away in his arms. He wouldn't let that happen. He scooped her up in a blanket and brought her out to the car, laying her on the front bench seat next to him and holding her as close to him as possible. She had stopped crying by the time he had pulled out of the driveway, her breathing shaky and forced. He knew he was repeating the words, 'Don't worry, Lisa, you're gonna be okay. Daddy's got you, don't worry, you're gonna be okay,' but he couldn't actually hear himself. It all felt so far away, and the sound of her labored breath seemed to ring in his ears.

He was thanking the lord that there was no one on the roads because he was pushing his truck as fast as it could go. he was desperately clinging to the small girl as he tried to remember the way to the hospital.

As they pulled up to the emergency room and he threw the truck into park, he knew. He could feel the loss. In the back of his mind, he knew that it was too late. But he was determined that it wouldn't be true. It wouldn't end that fast. He already had her backpack at home, and he was planning on surprising her with it next week. She was set to start school in two weeks, and he had bought all the school supplies he thought she would need. The backpack was blue, her favorite color, with little stars and moons all over the whole thing. It already held a pencil case filled with colored pencils and erasers, a lunchpail that matched the backpack, and three Dr. Seuss books that he was gonna start reading to her. Maybe she would even start reading them.

But all his hopes were thrown out the window the minute that he walked into the emergency room. He watched as his little girl was put on a stretcher, her tiny body not even taking up half of it. She looked so frail as the doctors and nurses wheeled her down the hallway, the fluorescent lights stinging his eyes. Everyone poked and prodded at her as he ran alongside, holding onto her hand. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her limp hand. He couldn't even hear what the nurses were saying, he just kept telling her, 'It's gonna be okay, baby, I'm here.'

He was sitting in the waiting room, watching the clock on the wall. The doctors came out two hours later.

His vision seemed to blend together until everything was just one big mush. He couldn't hear. He doubled over in his chair, feeling the tears fall down his cheeks. Lisa was gone.

They told him it was Viral Hepatitis. Two Words, Six syllables that took his baby girl away.

He had waited too long. He knew it. Maybe if he had just taken her ten minutes sooner, maybe if he had just driven a little faster, maybe if... maybe if... maybe if...

He mourned not only his little girl but the things that she never got to do. She would never go to school. Never drive. Never have another birthday party. Never make friends.

He lost so many experiences with her. He would never get to see her grow up. He would never get to go to a father-daughter dance. He would never get to give her suitors the if-you-hurt-one-little-hair-on-her-head-you-will-never-be-heard-from-again speech, never get to move her into her college dorm, never get to walk her down the aisle.

~~~

After Lisa died, Wayne decided to have her cremated. He knew he had to get out of that house, the reminders of her everywhere. He couldn't stand the idea of not being able to visit his daughter, so he thought he could take her with him and visit her anytime. He might even bury her little urn somewhere close, just out of respect for the dead.

He cleaned out the house, packing all of Lisa's things that he wanted to keep into a small box. He took all the pictures off the walls and his clothes, loaded them all up in his old pickup truck, and made the dive all the way to Indiana.

~~~

Even though he had started off strong in the new trailer, he couldn't seem to adjust. He didn't eat, didn't go outside, and didn't sleep. Every time that he wore himself down enough to pass out on the couch, he would only get about 2 hours before having another set of dreams about Lisa. He would wake up in cold sweats with tears running down his face. And the worst part? He couldn't even remember the dreams. Just the fact that they were about her.

He was miserable in this new town. He didn't even think about looking for a job for the first two weeks, but as money started to disappear, he had to look through the Help Wanted section of the newspaper.

He'd also decided that after Lisa, he needed something else to take care of. So he got a cat. He didn't know why he needed a cat; a dog would have been a lot more sensible. A dog can watch over you and protect you; maybe he could've even trained it to go hunting with him. But he decided to buy a cat. It was a tiny black ball of fur that he named Flopsy because one ear flopped down like a Bunny rabbit while the other one stayed up.

That cat was one of the best things that ever happened to Wayne. When he felt lonely, it was almost like she could sense it. She would curl up in his lap or on his chest and lay there, just keeping him company, as he watched the television.

~~~

It wasn't even six months later when there was a knock at the door. He had just finished a cigarette (he had since thrown out the rule of only smoking outside) and was finally starting to nod off when a sharp knock at the door brought him back to consciousness and he went to answer it.

In those six months, Wayne had tacked down and managed to hold on to a job at the mechanics shop two miles down the road. He was good with cars, his entire childhood was spent with his father, who was the most professional (and honestly-priced) mechanic in the entire state of Georgia. His father had taught him and his brother, Alfred, whom they all called Al, everything there was to know about cars, and it was one of the only things the man could remember the ins and outs of to this day.

When he pulled open the door, his eyes immediately danced over the figures outside. It was so dark out that he couldn't see their faces, but he could tell that one was a woman, just shy of his own height, and a small boy, at least ten, huddled behind the woman's leg. When his vision finally adjusted to the dark of the night, he recognized the face of Vivianne, his brother's wife.

Al Munson was a screwy guy, as Wayne used to say. He and his brother were polar opposites. Their father always used to say that Al had less sense than God gave a goose, and he was just about right. Al had landed himself in jail five times before he was even eighteen, and it only got uglier from there.

Al had started to mess around with Vivianne when they had just graduated high school. And she was so blind to his actions that she stayed with him, even at the advice not to from her soon-to-be brother-in-law. They had a baby a few years before Wayne, but he was still fighting in Vietnam at that time and hadn't heard anything about a child until now.

When Vivianne sat down at his kitchen table, her face covered in tears and snot, she explained that Al was going to put her in the ground. She knew it. It had been a long time coming (Al wasn't always the most even-tempered guy) but it wasn't until she had the baby that she started taking his abuse seriously.

"I don't care about what happens to me anymore, I've made my bed and now I have to lie in it. But I couldn't stand to see that little boy get left alone with his father. He would kill him, I'm sure he would."

Wayne recognized what she needed before she even asked. "I'll take him."

He didn't think about his answer; he didn't think about all the things he'd need to do, he'd need to buy a bed and clothes and food that was healthy and be able to keep a watchful eye on a new child. But somewhere deep in his heart, he wanted to take care of a kid. He thought that if he could make a difference in even one child's life, he should. For Lisa.

Vivianne left the trailer with the promise to return soon (one Wayne never believed would come to fruition), and Wayne went over to the couch and sat by the young boy. Flopsy, the cat, had taken an interest in the kid and was sitting up next to him, staring at him. The child seemed nervous, holding his bag in his lap and sitting straight up in his seat, which couldn't have been easy due to the plush cushions on the couch that seemed to want to swallow you up every time you sat down.

"Her name's Flopsy," Wayne announced, picking her up and placing her on his lap. "Do you want to pet her?" he asked softly, looking at the boy. He made no reply, just slowly moved his hand over her soft head. Flopsy immediately started purring, and the sound startled the boy, making him snatch his hand away. "No, no, no, that means she likes it. She makes that noise when she's happy," Wayne tried to explain, but the boy's fears of the cat had returned.

They sat in silence for a long while, the only thing making noise being Flopsy, who was meowing softly to be fed. Wayne eventually got up from the couch, walked to the kitchen, and refilled her food bowl. She seemed content, and he moved on to the next problem at hand: where the boy was going to sleep tonight. Wayne had an extra room where he had stored some junk when he first moved in and never got the chance to clean it out, but there was no extra bed in there. He was also not going to make the kid sleep on the couch, so he went into his own bedroom and took the sheets off the bed, replacing them with fresh ones. He cleared his side table ashtray, while he was at it, and a few empty coffee cups that he brought to the sink.

"You can sleep in there tonight, and tomorrow, we'll go out and buy you a bed and some sheets, okay?" Wayne explained to the young boy, pointing a thumb to his bedroom. The child turned to him, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he had arrived, and asked in a meek voice, "How long am I staying here?" Wayne didn't know how to answer this question. To be quite honest, he didn't know. He didn't know if Vivianne was ever going to come back and collect this kid, or if Al would come to take him. Technically, Wayne had no guardianship over him, so Al could come anytime he wanted to. Just the thought of that happening made Wayne shiver. "I don't know, kid. But it'll be good for you to have your own bedroom in case you do stay or if you come and visit," Wayne decided. The child nodded his head slowly, his small mop of curls bouncing along with him.

"What was your name again, kid?" Wayne asked, looking at him, hoping he would answer the question.

"Eddie."

[wavelikewhat]

More Than A Latte

Pairing: Barista!Seungcheol x Reader (any pronouns) Summary: You have a huge crush on the handsome and flirty barista who makes you a perfect latte nearly every day. Unfortunately, it’ll probably never be anything more, right? That’s what you believe… until you see him on a night out with your friends. Wordcount: 1.7k Content notes: Reader goes to a bar and orders drinks, but no direct mention of alcohol, drinking alcohol, or drunkenness. No smut. Total fluff. Genres/themes/appearances: Fluffy and frothy like his lattes would be. Entirely inspired by this clip. Barista!Cheol in that shirt with that hair and those forearms really put a lot of thoughts into my head.

A/N: this is a mini "collab" with @seungkwansphd: please read their version of this concept called bean me up, scotty!! we both had different inspiration based on my totally normal and definitely not over the top reaction to that Barista!Cheol clip ☕️

SC - What will it be today? YN - Medium latte. SC - Perfect… and can I have a name? YN - Y/N. SC - Thanks Y/N. Your drink will be on the other end of the counter over there. 

SC - Hey! I remember you from the other day! What will you have today? YN - Hey, good morning. I'll have a medium latte. SC - Excellent choice… Remind me of your name? YN - Y/N. SC - All right Y/N, it’ll be at the end of the counter. 

SC - Hey Y/N, good morning! Medium latte? YN - You are a quick learner. SC - It helps that you order the same thing every time. Have a good one! 

YN - Hey, good morning. SC - Hey Y/N! Regular? YN - Make it with an extra shot of espresso, please. SC - I can't tell if that's a commentary on last night or this morning. YN - Let's just say both and leave it at that. 

YN - Hey, good morning. I'll have a medium latte. SC - Perfect order for a perfect day. YN - It really is beautiful out… I was thinking of taking the bus but maybe I'll walk. SC - You can't take hot coffee on the bus. Unless you're sneaky? YN - I am not very sneaky… I just drink my coffee a little faster than is probably responsible. Is that against the rules too? SC - I will be here to make your medium latte whenever you need it. Just don't take it on the bus.  YN - I promise.

SC - Hey Y/N, how was your walk yesterday? YN - It was really nice. Did you get a chance to get outside? SC - I did, you inspired me. I took the long way home. YN - Home isn't nearby? SC - I live on the other side of the river. YN - Oh, me too! SC - Really?

SC - Hey Y/N, medium latte?  YN - You are my hero. 

……………………

“Hey, good morning Y/N! I saw you across the street through the window.” Seungcheol picks up the white cup on the counter in front of him and hands it to you. “Here you go,” he says with a casual smile. Your knees threaten to give up on their one job of holding you upright.

You take the latte from him, fingertips gently brushing against his. You couldn’t have imagined the spark you felt when you touched his skin. Your fingers are probably going to tingle for the rest of the day from the memory of his touch. 

You gather your wits and look up at him. “Wow, thank you! Does everyone get this level of service?” You’re flirty, you always are. You can’t turn it off when it comes to him.

“Only you.” The corner of his mouth tilts up. He’s flirting, too.

“Do you say that to everyone?”

“Only you.” He grins wider and runs a hand through his blond hair, all while meeting your gaze.

You glance down at his name tag to break eye contact. “Seungcheol (he/him)” it says, as if you haven’t read it a thousand times before. 

His crisp white shirt is buttoned nearly all the way up to his neck, just one left undone, giving you the tiniest peek at his collarbone. His sleeves are rolled up the same way as always, showing the same few inches of forearm you stare at almost every morning.

He chuckles and draws your attention back to his face.

You still haven’t ever said his name, but he always greets you with yours. It gives you a buzz every time you hear it.

The way he says your name affects you. The way he smiles after he says your name affects you. The way his eyes light up when he sees you walk through the door… That definitely affects you.

……………………

“How did you even find out about this place?” you ask as you step out of the taxi. 

“Someone I work with was talking about it,” your friend Nina replies, adjusting her top. “I figured we might as well go somewhere new.”

“What, you don't like change?” your friend Eunchae teases as they hold the door open in front of you. 

“Haha,” you reply sarcastically, knowing full well that you're the most routine-oriented person any of your friends had ever met, even counting Nina’s dad who delivers mail—which means he goes to the same houses on the same street in the same order every single day. You can’t help it if you like routine! Spontaneity isn’t really your strong suit.

“Well, it looks pretty cool,” you say, scanning the crowd. Everyone seems to be having a good time, which is always a promising sign. It isn’t too loud, but there’s a level of excitement in the air that makes you bob your head slightly to the song spun by the DJ in a far corner of the room. Your friends lead you to the bar and you run your eyes down the length of it, seeking out the bartender with the shortest queue. 

And that's when you see him. 

Seungcheol. He's in a tight black tee (where did those muscles come from?) flashing the smile that had become a crucial part of your morning routine. As he turns his head, his blond hair sparkles in the dim bar lighting. 

Your eyes narrow at the women giggling as he hands them two colorful drinks. Who could they be? Does he know them? Why is he smiling at them?

“What do you want?” Nina asks in front of you, breaking your concentration. Thankfully, she’s caught the attention of a bartender working exactly where the three of you are standing. You make a very large mental note to avoid Seungcheol's section of the bar for the rest of the night. 

As much as you want to see Seungcheol again, because once nearly every day is definitely not enough, you have absolutely no idea what you would say if he recognized you… if he even could recognize you outside the context of the cafe. You’re dressed totally differently from how you dress for work, and your hair is different, and your makeup is different, and hopefully your entire demeanor is different because it isn’t the crack of dawn and you aren’t getting the caffeine you desperately need in order to become a human being. You have many hours of being human behind you today. 

That’s when you remember that you didn't actually see Seungcheol today. You were running late to work and you didn't have a chance to stop for coffee, so you ended up making instant coffee in the break room after you arrived. It wasn’t the same. Seungcheol’s coffee just works better.

Needless to say, you plan to do everything in your power to avoid him tonight, even though every single molecule in your body wants to be as close to him as possible… tonight, tomorrow night, and every night until the end of time. 

Your friend hands you a glass and motions you away from the bar. You’re more than happy to escape the possibility that Seungcheol might notice you (even if that's secretly what you want). You attempt to stop thinking about him for the next half hour while your friends gossip and sip their drinks. You mostly succeed, because your eyes only land on him every few minutes instead of every fifteen seconds. 

“Come help me carry the next round,” Eunchae instructs as they stand up. You casually glance at Seungcheol’s section of the bar as you follow Eunchae. There’s a huge smile on Seungcheol’s face as he pours drinks for two guys who look to be as tall as he is. He looks so painfully good in that shirt. 

When the guys turn around to walk away, they are very obvious about glancing back at him with their wide eyes and secretive grins, clearly discussing the handsome bartender who just made their drinks. As they should, you think. He deserves it. 

You shake your head, trying to get him out of your mind. “Can you see which bartender we should go to?” Eunchae asks, looking at both ends of the bar in confusion. You point to the bartender at the exact opposite end of the bar from Seungcheol. 

“He only has one person in front of him,” you explain, walking as far away from Seungcheol as possible. 

Despite your reluctance to look at a certain bartender in the building, you and your friends have an amazing time. The drinks taste great and the vibes are just right. The three of you were enjoying letting loose after a long week, and you can tell the people around you are enjoying themselves, too. 

After the three of you head out to the dance floor, Nina and Eunchae keep saying they’re looking forward to coming back and bringing your other friends along. You’re excited and horrified by this possibility. It’s always great to find a new place you and your friends all like. The problem is you don’t know if you can even get through this night without making eye contact with Seungcheol and melting on the spot. There is no way you'd be able to hide from him on another night out, or other nights if your group keeps dropping by. 

Sooner or later you’ll end up having an awkward encounter with him and you do not trust yourself to be cool in that situation. Not even a little bit. 

“Let's have one last round?” Nina suggests, and you nod. Eunchae moves toward Nina, saying they’ll help carry water to the table with the drinks if you can snag a table. You look around, enjoying the music and carefully avoiding a certain someone in a black shirt. 

When your friends come back and set all the drinks and water on the table you're at, you let yourself enjoy their company fully, appreciative of the fun night with some of your favorite people. You’re finally able to completely forget the man at the end of the bar. 

Suddenly, Nina and Eunchae both turn their heads toward you. No, not toward you: they’re looking at someone behind you. You turn back to find out what caught their interest.

“Hey Y/N,” Seungcheol says with an easy grin, the same way he always does. You can’t help but smile in return. You kick yourself for developing this specific muscle memory.

He’s looking you in the eye for the first time all night. Despite your best efforts (and you tried really hard!) it turns out he did notice you. And he didn’t just notice you, he recognized you and sought you out and said your name out loud in his way that always sends a chill down your spine.

He introduces himself briefly to Nina and Eunchae, exchanging only names and nods. Then he focuses his attention on you again.

“I’m done with my shift. Ready to go?” he asks expectantly.

Without receiving any instructions from your brain, your mouth responds. “Yes.” 

“Are you sure?” Nina asks, looking right at you. 

“I thought we could share a cab?” Seungcheol adds, still smiling, still looking at you.

“We live in the same neighborhood,” you explain, as if that’s all the explanation necessary for leaving with a hot bartender your friends have never spoken to who also somehow knows your name and where you live. You find yourself backing away from the table. Tonight your mouth and legs have made a lot of decisions without your brain’s direction.

“I’ll text you when I get home!” you promise, waving at your friends before spinning around. 

When you turn to face Seungcheol, he takes your hand and bites his bottom lip for a moment before grinning at you. “Hi Y/N,” he says.

“Hi Seungcheol,” you respond, grinning back at him.

[ddostoyevskyy]

CHASING THE SUN

ALTERNATIVE TITLE; MY KIND OF WOMAN

Kunikida Doppo

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒... f!reader, demure!reader, reader has older siblings, ADA member!reader, misogynists, slightly fear of men, reader is quite similar to Louisa’s personality, soft spoken, reader is working with Yosano as an assistant doctor, smitten!Kunikida (cause, why not). And, reader and Kunikida was batchmates in college.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄... a short apology fic for those TLOA readers of mine. 😔 I haven’t been updating for so long and the chapters has been on drafts. I’m proofreading my own work, okay. 😔 Anyway, this oneshot (or two? idk) is on Kunikida’s perspective;) Also, I feel like his short fic is a mess, idk.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒... 4.246k

MASTERLIST.

Kunikida muttered under his breath about being a little too early when he arrived at the fourth floor of the building where the Armed Detective Agency’s door is located. He sighed, rethinking of opening the door in front of him when he knew he’s going to deal with a headache once he stepped inside the Agency; a headache in a form of a brunette with a burgundy coat and a suicidal maniac. Nevertheless, with only a second early on his schedule, he opens the door which always remained unlock as he steps inside, slamming the door gently on his back before he announced his entranced.

He could hear the brunette’s dreamy voice from afar as his ears twitched, his handsome face frowning as he glance to where he’s been hearing Dazai Osamu’s voice, accompanied with Nakajima Atsushi and Izumi Kyouka whose staring at him in disbelief. Once the younger two noticed him, they looked a little relief, their faces telling him the “please-deal-with-him” look.

“What’s gotten you so cranky about, Dazai?!”

“Ah, Kunikida! I just met the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in my whole life!” The brunette answered and Kunikida’s face turned more darker as he scowls before throwing a smack to the brunette’s back, causing him to yelp.

“Shut up! It’s too early for that! Did you invited her to double suicide again?!”

“I did! But, she seems petrified when I touched her hand.” Dazai replied with a sad pout and Kunikida sighed, smacking him into the head again.

“I told you not to touch any women without their consent, Dazai! It’s sexual harassment!” Kunikida retorted as he fixed his glasses to the bridge of his nose, glancing at his watch before walking towards his desk. Dazai followed behind with a malicious grin on his face. “Besides, what is a woman doing here, anyway? Another complaint or spy?”

“Now, now, Kunikida. Let’s not be judgemental, okay? I heard from the President that he’s been recruiting another Agency’s member to help Miss Yosano with medical assistance.” Dazai finally confirmed, making the blonde raise his head away from his laptop, completely having his attention caught. A medical assistance huh? Kunikida pondered; if this new member of the Agency has a medical degree, why bother to apply in a Detective Agency and not in a hospital facility?

“Is this new recruit an ability user?” Kunikida questions and Dazai hummed under his breath, playing with the paperworks around him.

“I figured, she is, since the President is making me escort her through an entrance exam.” Kunikida had slammed his laptop close with a thud, staring at Dazai in bewilderedment before pointing towards his face.

“What, you?! No way, the President is letting you off to do an entrance exam, Dazai! Let alone with a woman!”

“Calm down, Kunikida! You and I were trusted to come along in her entrance exam, okay? Besides, I think I heard (Name) requesting the President for Kyouka for a personal reason I intended not to know unless she said it herself.”

“(Name)?” Dazai nodded with his question.

“Yes, (Last Name) (Name).”

That name. (Name). Oh, my gosh. Kunikida fell silent as Dazai noticed his sudden deep in thought but he never mentioned anything anymore. (Name), he repeated your name in his mind again as he bit his lower lip when he finallt remembered where he had heard your name.

It was back when he’s in college, young and determined to pursue his passion. He was never the most brightest student out there, but he’s smart and a responsible student, while you — you weren’t really noticeable since you always have a book covering your face and you were always hanging out in the library alone. You were in the nursing department.

He was starting to noticed you that time when you were prancing around his department, finding a student with a blood A type with a syringe and gloves tucked in your hands. Your hair is a mess and it looked like you haven’t sleep for months, although what he have noticed with your attitude when he volunteered is that you can’t look at him straight in the eyes nor the way your body language has been uncomfortably speaking when you made him follow through the Nursing Department’s laboratory with the consent of his professor that time. He’s silent throughout the process as he hissed when the sterilize water had been injected on his forearm. You apologized meekly as you tried to soothe the pain with a touch of your hand that gently layed right on his arm.

That moment when he realized you were quite popular around the campus because of your beauty and brain, you were one of the dean’s listers as their scholars and the proofs of your hardwork is definitely what he’s been admiring silently. Although, there is really something off with your attitude towards him... or any male that has been pursuing you, he knew something was wrong. Although, he has became your subject and a big help for your major subject, he never questions you, nor he tried to speak with you unless you’re asking him about how he feel with those harmless chemicals that you’ve been practicing on his arms.

It became a routine for him that he started to write your name on his olive-colored pocket book he always brought with him. Your name came off with a schedule on the right side as he memorized your work patterns, how long have you been staying in the library, how many books have you been reading in one day, or have you even gotten sleep for an exact eight hours? How long since your last meal? He sounded like a stalker now, but as your practicing patient, it looks like you’ll be the one who will ended up being in a hospital instead of working for the patients.

So, he started to bring homemade lunch with him that is good for two. He saw how you were startled as your body language started to yell at him to refused. Yet, young Kunikida insisted. Since, that following days, weeks, and months, Kunikida were always prancing around with you even though, your department is a little far away from his own.

You were bright even though you’re incapable of interacting with others even with him. You kept shining on your own as Kunikida watch your brightness blinded him with such intensity that he could feel his heart palpilate when he saw how dedicated and motivated you are in your studies. You were one bright young woman that continues to shine even more. And, once you have finally considered him as a friend, Kunikida had fell more.

You were kind, patient (which you really need as a nursing student), and a caring woman. Although, he was always drown to your silence, you swept him up again when you became more talkative; and he’s always listening, he’s all ears as you talked about why you pursue medical field, or your hobbies (which is quite obvious). He had it all written on his notebook, he had it all memorized. Those days with you were the brightest and he had admired you more than he already has.

But, he knew the sun he had admired will not be always by his side.

It was that one cloudy day when he had found you on his way home, crying with your head low. He asked you, he comforted you in silence as the thunder roars above the sky; it was as if though the sun disappeared and the woman whom he’s admiring her brightness dimmed and shrink in sunset, leaving the orange and pink hues into nothing but darkness with the moon without stars illuminating the sky.

You were left broken when you told him your father is not in your approval of having a degree of nursing.

He was left baffled in silence. He can’t do anything, nor he can confess his feelings to you at a moment like that as though it would answer your problem — no. He stayed with you until you calmed down; as if the sun were rising again, the determine look on your face came back, the light lit in your eyes shone — something that made his heart flutters as you promised him with your whole heart and soul that you will graduate with him; in which he found melancholic — a melancholy smile plastered on his lips as he watched you regained your brightening light back in your heart.

He knew he wouldn’t last long in college.

Nor he had even said goodbye or his feelings for you. You have to keep going.

Kunikida sighed as he felt his heart beats faster at those memories. It’s been years that he had last seen you. There’s not even a communication after he left, but he’s glad to hear that you’re alright and now successful in life.

“Say, Kunikida. You know her, don’t you?” Dazai’s question snapped the blonde out of his thoughts and an irk appeared on his forehead again. He felt annoyed at the sound of the brunette’s teasing voice, but he calm himself down with a sigh.

“Yes, I know her. She’s a... friend back when I was in college.” He answered as he heard the brunette snickered and let out an amusing huff of breath.

“You sound hesitant there, Kunikida!”

“Shut up! She’s really just a friend, alright?! Besides, I don’t think she ever recognize me.”

“Oh, hey, there, Miss (Name)!” Dazai’s announcement made Kunikida froze on his spot as he cleared his throat. He had no strength looking back behind him as he opens his laptop again before tapping on the keyboard, relentlessly, the loud clicking sound made his nervous visible. “We were just talking about you!”

You stared at the man waving at you with horror as you look back to see if the handsome man is really greeting you with enthusiasm and it felt like a slap on the face when you remembered the way you acted when he greeted you earlier with a kiss on your forehand. It felt embarrasing that you scurried away in fast motion to the President’s office. Your cheeks heat up as you meekly wave back and the brunette grinned.

“How’s your interview?” He asked once again but your gaze caught a familiar mop of blonde haired with a low ponytail, tipping on his laptop and his silence greeted you. You can’t fathom what you’re feeling right now, many emotions swirls in your chest; longing with a mix of happiness. Although, you noticed how he seems to ignore your presence even though, you both know you really didn’t forgot each other even for years without communication.

The brunette had noticed the tension in the air as he sighed. There’s really something going on between the two of you, but since Kunikida isn’t making a move, Dazai had tutted another conversation.

“Did the President asked for an entrance exam that’s why you’re here?” Dazai asked once again as he received a non-verbal answer of yes from you. “So, you’re an ability user, huh?”

You nodded again.

“Can I entrust Miss (Name) to you, Dazai?” The President’s voice startled you for a moment as you shift to the side a bit. His silver eyes shifted to your reaction, yet he understood the moment you can’t even look at him in the eyes nor you can’t even speak straight not until he called Yosano over did it make you a little comfortable with another woman’s presence in the room. “Though, she’s very wary of any men’s presence, I hope you will never make her uncomfortable.”

Dazai smiled apologetically towards you as he scratched the back of his head. “Of course. I also apologize for my behavior earlier, Miss (Name). Do you want to come with us, Kunikida?”

Dazai’s question is like a punch on the gut as Kunikida sent a daggering glare to the brunette whose smiling adorably towards him that made him flare even more. He composed himself before shutting his laptop close, his chair creating a creak sound on the floor when he stood up, grabbing his notebook and pen as he finally faced you — or the President rather.

His deep grey eyes were momentarily glancing at your way before he averted his gaze to the President. An emotion clogged in your throat when you felt like he’s seemingly ignoring you and avoding your eyes. You started to pick on your nails, plucking on the skin of your fingers as it started to bleed a little — a bad habit you made and as a medical allied. You remembered how this man in front of you would scold you for picking or biting your nails.

But right now, he couldn’t even look at you.

“Excuse me — ah! President! I’m sorry, but I had to cut your conversation short. There’s an accident near convention street.” Atsushi butted in as he glance at you nervously, face flushed in pink when he realized you were also here.

“Miss (Name), let’s go.” Dazai were quick to grab your wrist and drag you that you couldn’t even react in time as you were left speechless. Dazai had grabbed your bag and hand it to you in a hurry as you heard Kunikida’s voice threatening to kill the brunette. You tried to keep up on his pace and you mentally screamed when he even decided to use the stairs instead of the elevator, but you were thankful you wore a sneakers instead a pair of heels you never really wear in occasion like this.

“DAZAI! SLOW DOWN, YOU BASTARD! STOP DRAGGING HER LIKE THAT!”

“THIS IS URGENT, KUNIKIDA!” Dazai answered with a hint of teasing tone and the man whose following behind groaned as he finally catch up with the both of you.

“Is the location far?”

“You’re running that fast when you don’t even know where’s the location?!”

“Please, lower your voices and I know where it is.” You butted in and the two men fell in silence when you finally spoke up. Even though, you were meek in conversations, atleast you trained yourself physically at time like this.

“Alright, then, Miss (Name)! Let’s follow your lead!” Dazai’s enthusiastic voice made you sigh before you remove his hand on your wrist, holding the hem of his sleeve’s burgundy coat instead. Now, you were the one dragging him as you ran, you were quite thankful that you wore your nurse’ uniform — an all white uniform with white slacks instead of a pencil skirt to move around freely, your hair were tied in a bun with a few loose strands shadowing your face.

You became quite comfortable with the two — although, you’ve known Kunikida for years back then, the way he seems not to recognize you made an ache strike in your heart. You remembered the location, it is near where your father works and the thought made your anxiety risen. You haven’t seen your biological father when he opposed your dream to become a medical allied, you left home after that — and the same time Kunikida left you too.

You can do this, (Name). Maybe your own father don’t even remember you anymore.

Your hands tremble as Dazai noticed the way your grip tightened on the hem of his sleeve. The brunette glances at Kunikida who looks back at him with confusion written all over his face and a slight annoyance, Dazai tilted his head to your direction and Kunikida raised a brow, a silent indication that the brunette is talking about you.

When you arrived at the site, panting and heart beating to your chest, your grip never left Dazai’s coat. Your eyes scanned the area of the incident, seeing the blood splatters on the ground — a police officer had noticed your uniform as he approached in your direction.

“Miss, are you a medical figure? Please, check the victim. I think, he’s still alive.”  You nodded at him as he gave you a latex gloves. You wear it with trembling hands as you huffed, pulling a mask from your bag as Kunikida showed his Agency’s identification before they allowed the three of you inside the incident.

You bit your lip when you saw your own father bathed with his own blood.

You activated your ability as flashes of yellow-ish light sparks in front of your eyes as you touch his wrist, checking for vital signs and his pulse that is barely even beating, his breath ragged while his mouth fell open.

“What is the victim’s situation?”

Flashes of yellows appeared again and a written information flashed in your eyes as you roam your eyes in your father’s body, examining every little details and fractures. “Few broken bones including the ankles, knees, bone marrow and the lower spine near his pelvic bone. It will definitely cause the patient in wheelchair forever. T-There’s also a lot of blood loss and a s-skull fracture.”

“You know him, don’t you, Miss (Name)?” Dazai questioned as you fell silent, unable to find words as you shakily sighed before nodding your head.

“H-He’s —”

“He’s your father...” Kunikida’s voice trailed off as he stared at you, examining your actions; the way your hands tremble and your thoughts swallowed you whole. “Dazai, we’ll take him to the Agency.”

“I don’t think so, Kunikida. It’s up to our future assistant doctor if she’ll help him.”

“What?!” Kunikida sighed exhaustedly as he put a hand in your arm. “(Name)...” When he muttered your name, your eyes widened a bit as though his deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Your eyes met his grey ones as a small smile appeared on his face.

“I...” You trailed off before squeezing his hand, “Let’s bring him in the Agency... please.”

“Don’t you think, it’s a little insensitive to force her to save that man, Kunikida?” Ranpo’s voice echoes on his ears as his eyebrow furrowed. “You were friends, right? You met her back in your college days.”

Kunikida nodded, finding no escape with his superior’s questions as he remove his glasses, washing his face with his own hands. You were now inside Yosano’s operating room and the last time he saw you, you were in a verge of breaking down. Seeing you like that brings back that memory of you crying when you told him your father will no longer financially support you to pursue your dream. It was the last time he saw you as he left without saying anything after that.

“Though, (Name) couldn’t do anything but to help the man whose the cause of her trauma with men, it’s her job as a professional,” Ranpo continued, munching on his sweetened snacks, “I hope you both talk it out, Kunikida. It seems like you never viewed her as a friend, but something... more.”

Kunikida sighed, he felt more exhausted than he already is as he closed his eyes tightly. The door opened in a swift move, revealing a tired Yosano. “I dealt with two patients today. (Name) had a sudden panic attack inside the operating room and it took me quite time to calm her down. She’s alright now, although a little drained, but you can talk to her, Kunikida.” Yosano tilted her head inside as Kunikida stood up without a word, walking towards the open door as he close the door behind.

His eyes averted to your form as you stared at the ceiling blankly, face void with little to no emotions as he take a seat on the chair besides the bed.

“Why did you left?”

Your voice is a whisper he caught on as though a silent breeze passed when a calamitous rain is ready to pour down, leaving the sun behind clouds as Kunikida lowers his gaze.

“You don’t really need to explain, I just want to know why.”

Kunikida gulped at your voice.

“College is never for me.” He shortly answered as you nod.

“What about me?” You muttered, playing with your fingers once again as you anticipated his answer. Your heart beats louder like thunders in your ears. “Am I never for you?”

“(Name)...” His voice trailed off as your eyes watered before you sit up on the bed gently.

“I’m your friend, right? That time when you left, I need someone by my side, Kunikida.” His name slipped on your lips with melancholic melody as you finally flickered your eyes to met his, admiring his handsome face you’ve adored before. He still looks dashing and more mature, broad shoulders and sharper jaw as his grey eyes never left your form.

“I know, (Name)...”

“Then, why?” Your voice cracked, you have no energy left to raise your voice, although you knew you can’t when you saw the emotion flashed in his eyes — the rain started to pour as tears pool in your eyes before it fell in one strike, the sound of your own thunders, your own cries rings in your ears. “Did you only pitied me before? Is that why you approached me?”

“What? No, (Name),” Kunikida sighed as he mentally slapped his face for almost yelling at you, “Please, don’t ever think about it like that. I left because things wasn’t easy for me back then too. It’s too complicated and I was —” Kunikida halted as his eyes slightly widened. Was he really going to confess to you at a time like this?! This wasn’t a confession he planned in his notebook to confess to the woman he love.

Fuck it. Fuck his ideals. He can’t lose you now.

“I was falling in love with you,”

Your breath hitched.

You feel breathless.

“And, I know even without me, you can shine in your own, (Name). You don’t need any men in your life, but I wished you did, you know? I want you to depend on me, I want you to cry on me, to smile with me, to achieve your dream and celebrate with me. I have it all written in my notebook; all the things I want to do together with you, but I was too late, (Name),”

Your hand clenched on the blanket draped on your lap as he reached his arm towards you, cupping your cheek as he wipes your tears away. The warmth of his hand made you shivered in delight.

“You were already shining on your own and I can’t bring myself to be the one who will hold you back down.”

“But, you didn’t, Kunikida,” You sniffle, “You became my inspiration to keep going even though you were no longer besides me.”

“It’s difficult to chase a sun so bright like you, (Name).” He muttered as he continue to wipe your tears that has been continuously dripping down your face as your eyes blurred.

“Why are you chasing me when there’s no chase to begin with?” You answered with a smile and his heart fluttered, melting in your rays of sunshine as you pull him towards you before wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face on his chest as he sighed.

“You’re so stupid. I’m glad I saw you in a  news that you worked here in the Agency.”

“Did you apply here just for me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” You slapped him in the arm when you tore yourself away from his embrace as you faced him, “I did apply here because the government doesn’t accept an ability user to work on hospitals.” You answered with an adorable pout as you fixed yourself, wiping the remaining tears in your eyes.

“Alright, alright.”

“Pardon the intrusion, lovebirds!” Dazai’s voice erupted again as he peeks through the curtains, “Miss (Name), you passed the exam!”

You stared at the brunette in confusion. “What?”

“The entrance exam is saving your father,” Kunikida sighed, “And, you did your job without hesitation although with a little malfunction there, you proved yourself that you are capable of saving others even though they did something worse to you. Which, is not even a surprise to me.”

He glanced back to you as you plastered a smile on your face, gaze softening and the calamitous rain, the clouds covering the sun disappeared, leaving another brightest sun to appear in your face. There’s no chase to begin with — because the sun he’s been chasing is already his sun in the beginning.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved 2023 © ddostoyevskyy. Do not repost without permission or plagiarized.

[einsteinsugly]

Friday, July 4, 1986. A Way Better Fourth of July.

*****

4:30 pm

Hot dogs, cheeseburgers, macaroni salad. American flags, Bruce Springsteen...

Hyde inevitably lowers his voice, to a jaded whisper. "The song doesn't mean what you think it means."

Down in the shadow of the penitentiary

Out by the gas fires of the refinery

I'm ten years old, burning down the road

Nowhere to run, ain't got nowhere to go

Kitty, as sharp as a knife, anxiously nudges him. And Jackie swiftly follows suit, as they both hush the seeds of a quiet rebellion. "Shh."

Ignorance is bliss, as Red serves the main course. And Eric serves the macaroni salad.

"I made this, with my very own hands."

Kitty lovingly chuckles. "You used my recipe."

"Well..." Eric nervously laughs. "You got me there, Mom."

The two youngest, away from the gingham-clad picnic table, are happily gurgling in a large playpen. A quiet, raven-haired girl with big blue eyes, and a tiny, curious redhead. The eldest couple's grandbabies, by adoption and by blood.

The older two grandbabies, an olive-skinned boy and a sweet, adorable brunette with blue ribbons in her hair, are munching on small pieces of hot dog and are poking at macaroni salad with plastic forks.

The oldest grandbaby, a seven year old, is reluctantly in the midst of the adults. She feels like she's standing alone, though. The rest of the kids are literal babies, and she's just sort of...there.

But Betsy Kelso takes her duty as watcher very seriously. She even crafted a makeshift badge out of duct tape, just like her dad's.

Like her father, she is prone to hyperbole. "Kate's trying to eat a dandelion."

Eric and Donna nervously glance a few feet over, but are immediately relieved. Instead, Kate has simply picked a dandelion, and is turning it round, and round, and round...

Becca, a few months older and wiser, looks at her like she has two heads. "Gah."

"Aren't they adorable?" Kitty proudly gushes, hand firmly on her heart. "My grandbabies."

Red gruffly groans, but his old heart quietly melts. "You've said that a million times."

"It doesn't make it any less true, Red." Becca is now anxiously crawling around, leaving Kate at a wobbly standstill. "Look, she's exploring."

"She's the one that you need to watch," Red cautions, turning to Jackie and Hyde, "She'll eat the damn...darn dandelions."

Betsy, the fervent watcher, proudly sounds the alarm. "Pop said a bad word!"

Kelso chuckles, as the word "dumbass" is at the tip of Red's tongue. "Get used to it, Bets."

*****

5:00 pm

Dinner is officially over, but the American flags are still fluttering in the breeze. And Bruce Springsteen is still blasting.

Glory days

Well, they'll pass you by, glory days

In the wink of a young girl's eye, glory days

Glory days

Meanwhile, Red and Kitty are proudly perched in lawn chairs, happily clinking their glasses together.

The aging blonde smiles. "You know, I bought that Lee Greenwood cassette."

"God Bless the USA" is a bit corny, even for a proud veteran like him. "I can write a better song than that."

"I'd like to see you try," Kitty lovingly challenges, "I think it's profound. 'And I won't forget the men who died, who gave that right to me.'"

"I'd list all the wars." Far from a creative soul, Red concocts a simple list. "Revolutionary, 1812, Mexican-American, Civil..."

She shakes her head. "That doesn't sound like a good song."

"Lee Greenwood isn't even a damn veteran," He gruffly declares, "He's like Eric."

Kitty spies, with her little eye, an adorable little diversion. Hyde and Eric are lying in the playpen, with Hyde propelling a happily squealing Becca in the air, and with Kate lying on Eric's chest.

Then, in a split second, she's back to ground zero. The uncomfortable trenches. "There haven't been any wars for him to fight."

"You know he wouldn't join."

"Well, he'd join the most important ones," Kitty amply defends, before reluctantly acquiscing, "You know he's lippy about 'Nam."

"Don't remind me." He briefly diverts, as Eric compares Becca to the Millennium Falcon. Then, he shakes his head in disdain. "He thinks the Star Wars program is a disgrace to Star Wars."

Kitty sighs, but while happily kicking the can down the road. A tiny pebble, beneath her shoe. "He still hasn't gotten over that Luke and Leia thing."

Red's foot anxiously taps to the rhythm. "Don't remind me."

*****

5:30 pm

He doesn't know why the hell he put in that damn Lee Greenwood cassette.

If tomorrow all the things were gone

I worked for all my life

And I had to start again

With just my children and my wife

Hyde is muttering something rebellious. Eric is nervously shaking his foot to the rhythm. Laurie is...who the hell knows where.

But at least his two sons are there. He doesn't agree with a lot of their politics, or like a lot of their music, but they're good men.

They surmounted the odds. Hyde isn't dead, roaming in a motorcycle gang, or in prison. Eric is still lippy, and still loves Star Wars, but he doesn't let it define his life. He tries to be the hero of the South Side of Chicago, in his own, weird way.

And because of them, their granddaughters are proudly perched on their laps. He has Becca, and Kitty has Kate. Kitty Jr, of course.

All the while, Becca is sleeping in his arms, as the former basement dwellers lovingly coo.

And predictably, so is Kitty. "You think you're Oscar the grouch, but you're not."

He can't help but smile. "I guess my life isn't garbage, huh?"

In turn, she lovingly kisses him on the cheek. "I'd say it's pretty damn good."

*****

If you want to join the random date generator game, click here!

[d3caynluv]

FILM SUMMARY ... Two brothers meet a comprise.

CAST & CREW LIST:

ELLIOT SON .... JESS

HWANG YEOJUN .... JAY

NAM NAKYUNG .... THE GIRL

PRODUCED BY ... ANGELICO ENTERTAINMENT

DIRECTED BY ... ZASHA PETROVA

WRITTEN BY ... ZASHA PETROVA

DISTRIBUTED BY ... A24 FILMS

WARNINGS / NOTES: It is a horror piece, so there are horror themes. It's just creepy and off-putting, I don't think there's anything too crazy. Mentions of Murder. Attempted Murder. Guns. Mentions of past abuse. Mentions of death. If I missed anything, please let me know! This was supposed to be up on Halloween, but I was sick lol! A bit of a change of pace from the usual pieces but I hope y'all like it! Happy late Halloween!

She stuck out like a sore thumb.

“She's one of them city girls,” Jess told his brother, who was crouched beside him, brow furrowed with their daddy’s rifle held straight up between his knees. “You could always tell by their hair.”

“What you mean?” Jay questioned, both of them speaking in a whisper. The girl’s platinum blond hair stuck out against the forest's foliage, and her manicured nails felt the tree bark in front of her with awe-filled eyes like she’d never seen a tree before. Russ pointed to her from the brush they were hiding in.

“It's not real. That color don't exist naturally.” Jay had never thought about it like that. He craned his neck to look at the girl again, peeking from the brush to watch her again. She had been a pretty little thing. She was skinny, with a round face and big eyes that looked around at everything like a curious rabbit. She looked like a rabbit, Jay decided. He often compared people to animals, as animals were all he knew besides his brother and his daddy, who they had buried that spring.

Now, all Jay knew was his brother and animals.

“Her clothes are nice,” Jay said out loud instead of keeping his thoughts to himself. Jess craned his neck to look at the girl’s outfit, shrugging in disinterest. The brothers were dressed in their daddy’s old clothes that he wore when he was their age. The only item of clothing on them from this century was the bulky camo jackets they got for Christmas last year. It was their only present. Well, Jay’s only present. Jess got their father’s rifle because he turned twenty-five that year. That was the family tradition. Jay was supposed to receive the hunting knife when he turned twenty-five, another long-kept family tradition, but now, with their dad in the ground, Jay wasn’t sure if he would ever get that knife.

He wasn’t sure if he even wanted it.

Jay knew their father didn’t like him. He always reminded him that he was supposed to be a girl, and the fact he came out of his mama backward was what killed her. Jay carried the weight of his mother’s death on his shoulders from the time he was brought into the world. That was probably why they’re always slumped over.

“City girl outfit. She don’t belong in no forest.”

She was wearing a pale blue dress with little white flowers on it. Jay thought it had been pretty. He thought she was lovely. He couldn’t voice that thought, however. Jess didn’t like to talk in the forest too much. He said there was no talking when hunting. Jay hated silence. He’d rather be in a room that echoed everything he said back to him before sitting in silence.

Jay stared at the girl again, taking in her features this time. It had been a long time since he had seen a girl, especially one as pretty as her. Typically, girls like her didn’t just appear in the forest, especially clean and well-kept. The last time Jay saw a girl this pretty had been seven months ago, but she had been a mess by the time they had caught her. Bloodied, sweaty, and covered in dirt from running so much. Jay couldn’t stand it when they ran. It made everything ten times harder than it needed to be. He wondered if this one would run. Her legs were skinny and didn’t look like they could carry her far. The more he pictured her running, the more the thought of her being a rabbit solidified in his head. Jay gulps.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Jay bargained, looking up at Jess with his big brown eyes and a teasing smile to test the waters. Jess, who had just finished loading bullets into the rifle, looked at his brother unamused. Jay kept staring at his brother with an unweaving gaze until he cracked a small smile, shaking his dirty blond hair.

“Prettier than the last one.”

“The last one was a guy. Of course, she’s prettier,” Jay argued, looking over the brush to see the girl kneeling in the grass, plucking dandelions from the ground. “She’s like an angel.”

“No angel has platinum blond hair, dumbass.”

“You never seen no angel before,” Jay snapped, his head whipping back to look at his brother as he cocked the rifle back. Jay felt the fun begin to bleed out onto the forest floor, and a coldness filled him.

“You don’t know what I’ve seen.” Jay didn’t reply. It felt as if his words had turned into acid on his tongue, burning him as they tried to spill out, and it only made his mouth shut tighter. He felt sick. He always felt sick during this part. At first, the pain was bearable. He would ignore it and swallow it as his dad told him to do, but now, years later, he found the pain to be excruciating, as if someone was pricking at his tendons and pouring salt into his eyes. He couldn’t stand it.

He hated this part. The first shot had always been the worst.

Jay looked up at the blue sky, silently counting the big puffy clouds slowly rolling through the vast big blue. His brother’s fist landed on his arm, causing Jay to flinch before slowly bringing his gaze back down to lock with his brother’s hard one.

“You need to watch,” Jess instructed as he positioned the rifle, the butt of the gun against his shoulder. “It was the only way you’d learn.” Jay sighed at the same old excuse now ingrained in him.

He needed to learn so he could help provide. He had needed to learn to keep the soil prosperous.

Jay watched his brother look through the scope of the rifle, his finger on the trigger. Jay knew the pattern well now. Jess took a deep breath through his nose. It had been nothing new. There had been nothing new in this forest. There had been nothing new between the brothers.

He pulled the trigger. The shot had been silenced, but Jay still flinched, shutting his eyes tightly when he heard the girl shriek. A thud echoed through the woods, but only Jay and Jess were there to listen to it.

Jay had thought about that often. He, his brother, and the hunted were the only ones to hear what happened between them. No one went into this forest, only the ones called to it. Jay reminded himself of that often how the forest would call those whom they hunt to her. This was how it was all supposed to go. This was life.

Jess got up, slinging the gun over his shoulder. He towered over Jay, silently demanding him to follow. Jay could hear the girl sob and groan in pain, the sound of leaves rustling underneath her as he assumed she tried to drag herself away like they always did. Jay’s body felt hot and suddenly sticky, his guts feeling acidic.

Jay’s knees cracked as he stood, rolling his neck with a tired sigh as he dragged himself behind his brother. He stood in the brush for a moment, keeping his gaze on the leaf-covered ground, and studied the various shapes of the cracked leaves beneath him.

“Dammit,” Jay heard Jess grumble. Jay looked up from the ground and walked over to the girl and his brother. Jess had his foot on the center of her back, huffing through his nose as he looked down at the girl who sobbed and wailed against the first floor. It was a tragic sight, in Jay’s opinion. It made his face pinch and chest ache as he had just drank the cough syrup his dad would make him when he would get sick. Sickly sweet and thick as sap. It left his chest burning and stuck on his tongue for hours.

“I aimed for her neck.”

“You got her hip,” Jay pointed out the obvious, pointing to the wound on her hip that left a growing blood stain on her pretty blue dress that was rising with every thrash and kick of her legs. Jay tried not to look, but the exposed skin of her thighs was tempting, causing him to steal glances at the pale skin he’d never seen on a woman before. He had never seen a woman like her before, especially this exposed. It felt wrong to look at her for too long, as if he was tainting something he already helped destroy.

“No shit,” Jess snapped. Jay rolled his eyes at Jess’s tone, his gaze already adverted back to the girl’s face. Even when she cried, she was beautiful. He wanted to touch her. His fingers twitched at the thought of brushing her hair out of her eyes and over her shoulder. He wondered what the strands felt like. He would bet his left hand that her hair was soft and her skin smoother.

He could hear Jess rustle in his pocket for the hunting knife. Jay felt a chill run down his spine as he realized what he was doing. He quickly pulled his gaze away from the girl and stepped back, his heart racing. He knew what was about to happen. He had seen Jess do this a thousand times over to humans and animals alike, but this was no animal, and she was no human either. She was something different to Jay. The thought of Jess grabbing her by the crown of her head, pulling her up, and slitting her throat was too evil for Jay to bear. For once, it felt wrong.

Jay reached out abruptly, grabbing his brother’s arm as he shook his head. 

“No,” Jay demands for the first time in his life. Jess is shocked but intrigued, his brows raised curiously at his brother’s refusal. “Not her. She’s different.”

“What’s so different about her?” Jess refuted. Jay wasn’t sure how to answer, but his gaze returned to the girl, Jess’s following to try and understand. 

“Remember what dad told us? About our mamas? How he’d catch them so he could have us to keep feeding the forest?” Jay never liked the story of how his dad caught his mom. It was violent and grotesque, as was most of what their father did and said. 

Truthfully, Jay never liked his father. He was like a sleeping bear in a cave, hiding and quiet but big and deadly when he wanted to be. He would beat the living daylights out of either of the boys just for holding the rifle wrong or looking at him for too long with a “funny” look on their face. Jay often thought about his mother and the pain she must’ve gone through when she was with their father. He thinks, in a way, he set his mama free from this life. He wondered if she would be proud of him.

Jess tensed at the mention of his mama but nodded. Jay nodded his head down at the girl.

“She’s perfect for that…Don’t you think? I think so. I know so,” Jay adamantly told his brother, nearly desperate at this point to keep this girl alive for no other reason than for himself. Jess looked near pursued, looking down at the girl once more before he dropped down abruptly to pull her hair out of the girl’s face to observe her features.  Jess studied the girl intently before nodding his head in agreement. Jay heard the girl softly whimper the closer Jess got to her face, softly pleading for him not to hurt her, but her pleas in the slightest didn’t phase Jess.

He had heard it all a billion times over in every voice imaginable at this point.

“We’ll test her out,” Jess agreed. Jay couldn’t believe that his brother agreed so willingly. He wondered if it was his rigid approach or maybe he did see that the girl was special. Jay blinked his large round eyes at Jess as he stood up and backed away, finally relieving the girl of his weight off her back. Jess nodded down at her.

“Fix her up and get her back to the house. Make sure she don’t bleed out…Not yet, anyway.” Jess gave the girl one last glare before walking away, leaves crunching behind him. Jay watched his brother until he walked into the brush, letting it swallow him up and making him disappear into the forest. When Jess was finally gone, Jay looked down at the girl with a gulp. Her sobs had turned into soft whimpers, and her manicured fingers twitched against the soil as Jay looked her over.

His lips twitched into a smile, kneeling beside her with a soft chuckle as he leaned closer. His fingers brushed the girl’s hair out of her face with an awe-filled hum when he saw her face again. “An angel,” Jay whispered, his fingers brushed against her cheek. The girl flinched, a loud whimper leaving her lips even though his touch was gentle.

“I’m gonna take care of you, angel. Don’t be scared.” Jay didn’t know what made him say that to her, but he felt it was right.

Everything felt right.

[apomaro-mellow]

@nam-draws was the only one to respond so while this isn’t the exact drabble i had in mind, enjoy some vamp4vamp steddie

Steve watched as Eddie moved about the halls, looking for all the world like a shaky addict going through withdrawals.

‘I can’t believe him. What a fucking piece of work.’

He stared longingly at the neck of one Rachel Kelly before giving Eddie Munson of all people his full attention. It was absolutely insane that a vampire as freshly changed as him would let himself be around the general population.

He began to follow Eddie and as he predicted, the other realized he was being followed and made his way to an emptier hallway as people began to get to class.

“The fuck do you want Harrington?”, Eddie whirled and hissed, even baring his fangs.

Steve frowned and his eyes began to visibly glow, even under the fluorescents of the halls. “Watch your teeth”, he warned. He felt a warm satisfaction when Eddie’s instincts took over and he kneeled before Steve.

“What the hell?”, Eddie breathed in disbelief.

Steve raised his wrist and Eddie held it desperately and pressed his nose to the skin. His newly changed form recognized an elder. Someone more powerful and experienced and deferred itself.

“You’re with me now Munson. You gotta shape up.”

That was how Steve basically became Eddie’s mentor in the vampire ways. He tried not to do it too often, but he wasn’t afraid to pull rank on him. One untrained vamp could ruin his current stint here. So when he said things like refrain from big groups or intimate settings for now, he meant it.

This also meant Steve “the Hair” Harrington was seen in public with Eddie “the Freak” Munson but Steve tried to not let it bother him. In the long run it was better to be a slight social outcast than an outright pariah.

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

Steve’s head was inclined towards Eddie’s as they stood in the dark corner of a bar. He was coaching Eddie through another conquest. But Eddie was coming up on a year of vampirism and as usual with the babies he was getting overconfident.

“Now check out the brunette in the booth”, Steve murmured against Eddie’s ear.

“The one glaring at us right now? Yeah, I’ll pass.”

“Good, cause that’s not the one.” Steve tipped Eddie’s chin and turned it to the other side of the room. Eddie followed to find a blond who was looking at the red head intensely. “What are they?”, Steve asked.

“Longing”, Eddie answered.

“And?”

“Hungry.”

“Now with this one, you need to-”

“Stevie, I got this. Look at him. He’s easy.” Playfully, he let his fangs brush Steve’s ear before he tore himself away. “Don’t wait up.”

Steve watched as Eddie made his way to his target. It was better for him to learn on his own what worked and what didn’t. What mattered was he could stand in a room full of humans without quaking in thirst.

The next morning, both of them fully fed, met up at the record store.

“You shocked I pulled that?”, Eddie smirked.

“No. Just means I’m a great coach”, Steve replied, not looking up as he perused the vinyl.

“Or maybe I’m just that good.”

Steve put down one he was looking at and crowded Eddie towards the back of the store. Eddie’s eyes were wide until Steve leaned in and licked a bit of dried blood that had dripped onto his neck the previous night.

“You need to work on your table manners. Stop being such a sloppy eater.”

“Says the one who just did the equivalent of licking juice off the floor.”

Steve hummed as he looked into Eddie’s eyes. He was still so fresh. Practically a newborn. But he’d seen the way he looked after his club members, both before and after turning.

There was potential in this one. And boy did they have time.

[moriartyluver]

FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER VI

"I NEED YOUR HELP" (name) whispered to herself in her carriage as she rode to the Moriarty manor.

After taking Josephine in officially as her personal maid, (name) had realised that apart from Josephine, she didn't exactly have any subordinates on her side. She had been training the girl in combat aswell as lessons in literacy. Josephine was a fast learner, she reminded (name) of her younger self in that respect, although not as much of a prodigy as she was, the young girl seemed really skilled in reading and writing, it wouldn't be long before she would also learn how to shoot a gun at a target.

"Miss- I mean, Lady (Last name), forgive me for my impertinence but uhh," Josephine called out to the lady "Who are you talking to- wait no..why are you whispering to yourself?"

(Name) suddenly acknowledged Josephine's presence and gave her an awkward smile as she muttered "I find it difficult to ask for help.." she slouched against her seat whilst her maid only smiled.

"Nobody finds asking for help easy, Lady (Last name). Especially if you're as independent as you are because you're so used to being able to do everything." It was as if this 14 year old had aged 60 years.

The noble lady opposite her smiled "Thank you Josephine. I'm glad some people on the world still have some sense in them."

The sun rays pierced through the windows in the carriage. They were finally there. The only issue for (name) now was to do the u thinkable and ask for help for the first time in her life and to William James Moriarty of all people

"Lady (Last Name)?" Louis called out to the woman as he opened the door slowly to reveal the woman in question and a young girl beside her. "What are you here for?"

(Nam) smiled politely and bowed her head "I have business with Lord William."

Louis widened his eyes in surprise. William hadn't mentioned anything of the sort to him and he would almost always tell his little brother when he had any interaction with (name) (last name).

Louis nodded "I'm afraid my brother may be quite busy at the moment, you may come again another d-"

"Lady (name)! What brings you here, my friend?" A voice belonging to none other than the Lord of crime himself interrupted as he approached the entrance of the manor with a smile. "Please do come in."

(Name) and a timid Josephine entered the building where Louis took both their coats. William guided the pair to his office, curious as to why the woman who hated him so much was here with a young girl who he deduced had been in an awful situation.

"Care to tell me why you're here?" William asked as he pulled a chair out for (name) who sat opposite his desk whilst Josephine sat beside her. "And why you brought...?"

The blond sat down at his own seat, his hand linked together under his chin whilst he rested his elbows on the wooden desk. The brunette took a moment to understand his prompt then said "J-Josephine Evans, sir- I mean, your lordship."

William only smiled at the girl with a look of amusement then turned to (name). "Well? It's not like you to be so quiet. By now you would have insulted me in at least three different languages." He gave a teasing smirk as he leaned closer to the lady who only had a scowl gracing her features.

"I can do that now, you son of a b-" (name) began but was interrupted by William placing his pale finger against her lips

"Now, now, my darling (name), you're a well educated woman. You can express your annoyance for me in other ways," The blond man smiled as he inched closer to her. "So, please, tell me how I am to be of assistance to you? You know I would do anything in my power to please you."

(Name)'s expression shifted to one of a cunning woman "Even if it meant killing a man?" She said as she glanced over to a surprised Josephine.

William noticed this but acted natural nonetheless "I would kill countless people for your sake, my lady. All you have to do is say the word and I am yours to use."

The young brunette glanced between the two as if they were psychopaths. "Kill a man? But Lady (Last name)! You gave me the impression that you'd only bring Lord Ashfordshire to justice. I thought you meant handing him over to the police...?"

(Name) chuckled as William spoke up. "Ah..so this is about Lord Edward Ashfordshire, is it? My men and I have had an eye on him for a while, ever since the recent disappearance of some of his staff members."

"Yes, well he's mine to kill, Moriarty." (Name) glared then looked over to Josephine "there have been multiple reports done to the police already but they believe the story of human taxidermy to be too far fetched."

William gave a faux sad expression "Oh but I thought I was yours to kill, (name)." He said in disappointment whilst (name) scoffed.

"But it's true though! Why would they do that?! The police are meant to protect us!" Josephine exclaimed. She was young, nobody could blame her for being so naive.

"Correction, they're here to enable the nobility to carry out evil deeds." William's expression became more serious. He turned to (name) "How far have you investigated so far?"

"I've had a freelancer scout the area and I'm yet to receive the floor plan for his estate." (Name) leaned her head back against the seat and sighed "Seriously, why is he so well protected, he's almost a fallen noble at this rate."

"Well you were right about the police perceiving the stories to be some strange set of jokes. Human taxidermy sounds like something out of a gothic horror novel, not from the prosperous heart of the British empire." Red eyes were glued to the lady in front of him. "Have you collected any evidence yet?"

"Josephine should be all the evidence I need but I'll need to hire a man to break in and make a few sketches of his operating basement." A (skin colour) hand was raised up to her chin, stroking it in thought then dropped down to her lap. "The reason I came here was to ask you for he-...I need..I need your help.." she managed to squeak out. William's eyes widened for a moment then narrowed into crescents as the corners of his lips turned upwards

"Would you care to repeat yourself, my lady? I don't think I understood you very well. Speak up." William smirked as (name) glared at him then coughed.

"I need your help." She said, this time a little louder

William held back a laugh "My..that's a new phrase. Have you learnt it recently?" He teased

"Shut it, Moriarty,"  the noble lady felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment "you know I have no subordinates to help me with this. I've had to resort to working with various men on the black market but even then, I don't have anyone to he..help me. You on the other hand have countless men on your side. Hell, you run the biggest criminal network known to man.”

Grey eyes widened. She was in the presence of a Crime Lord? And the strange woman who took her in was a murderer? Why would they even try going after Ashfordshire if they too did evil unto others?

“It appears your little friend is surprised by this new information, (name).” William smiled and titled his head slightly. “Care to explain to her who we really are?”

(Name) sighed. “There’s no we, Moriarty.” She sighed then turned to Josephine “William here is a crime consultant. He gives advice on how to commit crimes, except with a catch.”

“Do I need to make a payment in exchange for this advice..?” The fourteen year old asked nervously. (Name) chuckled and shook her head.

“Every man William kills is only killed for the sake of bettering the world we live in, at least that’s how he puts it,” (name) looked back at the man with a fake smile “I’ve requested his assistance to help us kill Lord Edward Ashfordshire. The police won’t do anything and who knows how far the nobility will go to cover up such disgusting acts. That’s why they’ve left us with no other choice but to kill him and expose his deeds publicly..although it may be a little complicated.”

The air in the atmosphere switched to become more sinister than before. She spoke of this so casually, as if she had known of it for years. Josephine felt guilty. She knew that she wanted to feel scared and run away but instead, she felt herself being enveloped in a strange feeling. That feeling was her desire for justice.

“Have you done this before?” Josephine asked curiously

(Name)’s expression grew dark. “Both Lord William and I have had to make some sacrifices along the way. Moriarty here has been in the killing business a lot longer than I but we’ve taken lives all the same.”

Minutes of silence past as William and (name) whisperers about a few things in regard to what Josephine assumed to be the plan to kill Lord Ashfordshire.

William eventually stood up from his seat and placed his hand to his chest. “Then I, William James Moriarty, crime consultant, shall help you carry out this request.”

The following weeks included several visits to the Moriarty manor or in the opposite direction to Marquis (last name)’s London estate. William had had a few subordinates scout the area and find the exact location to the basement and the easiest point of entry which was, rather foolishly, a little trapdoor on the outside of the mansion which lead to the door outside the locked basement. Thankfully, Ashfordshire was falling as a nobleman and soon to face bankruptcy and so all (name) and William needed to do was to manipulate the man into inviting either one of them to his manor.

“Ashfordshire shows a strange distaste to two types of people,” William told (name) as they sat together in his office, planning away late at night. (Name) now had frequently found herself sneaking into the Moriarty manor late at night to be greeted by William who was currently in a dark red robe ,on the verge of sleep.

(Name) raised and eyebrow as she leaned forward in her chair, careful to not hit the candles they had lit. “Which is?”

William held up two slim fingers. “One, men. No matter their age. Not because he hates them but because he shows no interest in dissecting men for his taxidermy projects.” A finger went down “And two, women who are over the age of their most youthful years. From what I’ve heard, this means women over the age of 24 or 25. I assume this is because he doesn’t like women who aren’t as easy to manipulate”

“That or he has a preference to girls who show close resemblance to children,” (name) said with a tone of disgust laced in her voice. “So I assume what you’re trying to say is that I try to kindle a friendship between Ashfordshire and I?”

William’s usually unreadable expression melted into one of abhorrence. “You need not interact with that foul man if you do not wish to do so. I can always arrange for a plan b.”

“No.” Said (Name) firmly. “I’m perfectly capable to take him on by myself. I may not even need the backup that I’ve requested.”

“Still, if he dares to hurt you I won’t hesitate to kill him on the spot,” his red eyes narrowed as a devilish glint appeared in them. “No. Even if he touches you, you must let me know.”

“I did tell you, didn’t I, William?” The noble lady’s calm voice whispered “I can take care of myself. Do not trouble yourself with my affairs.” She said as she placed her hand on his shoulder which reassured the blond she would be fine. After all, her father personally gave her sword fighting and fencing lessons since she could walk and her mother would give her lessons on war strategy. Nobody was more capable than her.

William took her hand in his own which caused her (eye colour) eyes to widen. “I trust your judgement, my lady.” He said before kissing the back of her palm.

A/N: not liam getting bold. Also Ashfordshire be like leonardo de caprisun. Anyways possessive and flirty William>> this was like 2k words ish long so I’m sorry if it took a while to read. Tbh it was mostly waffle but take the last bit as fan service 🙏

[sparkles-oflight]

All I know

Hi! Today we get BoKris (pre-relationship) and JaRtin - that's what i'm calling Jan and Martin because it's a Jar and a Tin.

(Sorry if Martin is completely oblivious about LGBTQ topics cuz most people are, unfortunately)

(Small reference to one of my fics that's only on AO3)

Synopsis: Kris can't wrap his head around the lyrics is writing. That's when Bojan chimes in to help him out. Meanwhile, Martin finds an insomniac cat in the living room, also known as Jan. (The events that led to "Vse Kar Vem" song but totally inaccurate).

Disclaimer: Please think of these as characters and not the actual people. I don’t encourage anyone to send this to any of the actual JO members nor do I encourage people to force any type of relationship between anyone.

It was a quiet night in the woods... After the first lockdown, the band decided to spend some time together in a cabin to create music together. And sitting outside of that cabin, wrapped in a blank with a guitar by his side, Kris finally turned off the phone.

“It’s a chilly night”, he thought.

He couldn’t sleep, however...not until he tried to sing what he had written so far.

He picked up his guitar, tuned it, and then tried to relax.

“You got this”.

The chord progression felt so warm...that’s what this song transmitted...

- Slišal sem, da čas nam ne prizanaša. – “I heard that time is good for us” - In da se enkrat vse lepo konča – “And everything nice eventually ends”.

That warm sensation...it was exactly what he needed that night. With his guitar...he could take on the world that night-!

- Slišal sem, da hočeš it do konca sveta – “I heard you want to go to the end of the world” - in da me več ne rabiš za sopotnika – “and you don’t need me as a co-passenger anymore”.

But that was it. Only that night... He ran out of more.

He’s stuck and he doesn’t know how to finish these lyrics...

- Me, me, me. – he heard a voice singing from behind him – You should be asleep.

He turned around to see Bojan holding two orange mugs in his hands. He sat next to Kris who put his guitar aside to let the older one get closer so they could both be covered by the blanket.

- You know you could have brought your own blanket. – Kris pointed out.

- My hands were full – Bojan lifted them slightly – Here, one for me, one for you.

Kris took one of the mugs with chocolate milk.

- Thanks.

- What were you doing here? – Bojan took a sip and pointed to Kris’ phone – Talking to Klara? How’s she?

- She just missed me...That’s all. – he took a sip.

Klara missed him. Since the pandemic started Kris hasn’t been able to visit her. Plus, he got COVID last time he and his family were given the chance to visit the Netherlands, so they ended up not going.

- And why are you still outside?

- I just can’t wrap my head around this song.

- The one you showed me earlier?

- Yeah. I was thinking of some lyrics... Actually – he showed Bojan some papers he had - I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.

- Krisko, wait. – Bojan laughed.

- What?

- You have gotten a small mustache from the milk. – Bojan cleaned him with his finger – What are you? 12? Klaraaaaa, you might have the clumsiest boyfriend ever!

- Hey! Shut up! – Kris shushed him.

Bojan looked at Kris’ chin and mustache and after observing them, he placed a hand on the back of his hair, ruffling it.

- It’s blonde. – Bojan signed with his eyes to Kris’ chin.

- Yes. It is.

- And your hair is longer now.

- Yes, it is.

- I like it. – he said with a final smile.

Bojan finally looked over the papers Kris gave him. Some of these lyrics were scrapped, some erased. Some even had some smiles drawn onto them that Bojan could only guess Jan drew them.

- I like this...

- All I know is that I can’t write a chorus for it.

Suddenly, as if he was hit by a wave of inspiration, a lightbulb went on Bojan’s head.

- Kris, say that again.

- All I know is-

- All I know is... – Bojan scooted closer to Kris – Pick up the guitar. Improv time.

Kris did as he was told, and Bojan wrapped his arms around him.

- Before you start, let me just... – Bojan rested his head on Kris’ heart to feel his heartbeat and after a while of inspecting that sound, he let him go – Ready when you are.

And as they reached the chorus, Bojan opened his mouth.

- Vse kar vem in kar znam, je, da ne boli - “But all I know is that I don’t feel pain” - ko me tvoj objem zakriva – “when I’m in your arms” -  Kaj je prav me ne bremeni. – “I’m not burned by what is right”.

Kris smiled.

- Do you like it?

- Oh yeah. Let’s keep it going.

They sang all night long until they found the best arrangement and lyrics, but their presence was missed by their friends.

Martin found his bed half empty and ended up going to the living room/kitchen to try and find Bojan but ended up finding Jan wrapped in a purple blanket watching the fireplace. Like a cat looking at a laser attentively.

He approached him carefully and sat next to him.

- Where’s Bojan?

- Outside with Kris.

- Uhm, I see. Jure?

- In our room. Asleep, I think...

- Uhm.

They stayed silently looking at the flames going up and down, then Jan decided to invite Martin under “his wing” – his blanket. It’s his blanket.

Martin took on the offer and Jan laid his head against his shoulder. Martin’s left hand wrapped Jan’s head and he placed a kiss on the guitarist’s hair.

Jan took his right hand and analyzed it with his fingers and eyes and then placed it in his chest.

- Do you feel that?

- I do.

- Good.

Jan kissed Martin lightly on his cheek and waited for a reaction. Martin looked at him up and down.

- Jan...do you-? Are you-?

- Martin. – he said it so assertively – I don’t know what you are going to ask me but finish your sentences, please.

Martin laughed at Jan and after catching his breath again he stared into Jan’s eyes for a hot minute before asking what he wanted.

- Janči, do you like me?

- Would it be that horrible if I did?

- I mean... – he sighed – you and your girlfriend broke up not that long ago and I-

- Don’t worry about it. Next question.

- Are you... I mean you can’t because you had a girlfriend before- though I guess you can be still, but-

- Are you asking me if I’m gay?

- Uh...yes? – he sighed again – I’m sorry that’s such a rude thing to say.

- I don’t want a label.

- Okay, cool cool. But you know what you like right?

- I do. You? You seem to be asking a lot of questions.

- I... – Martin took his glasses off and massaged his forehead – I don’t know honestly... I’ve been attracted to my girls all my life, but what if? You know?

Jan didn’t know, but okay. “Be clearer in your communication”, Jan wanted to say, but he realized Martin was struggling.

- You want to try the other options to see if you like it, is that it? – Jan asked.

- I guess... – Martin felt a sudden flush of warmth on his cheeks – It’s just that everyone seems to know what they want. Or at least I assumed we wanted girlfriends, and we were all straight and-

- Straight? Kris? Bojan? – Jan looked at him in complete disbelief – First of all, don’t assume people’s sexualities.

- I’m sorry, that was rude, I know-!

- And second! Kris has been in a fucking closet made of glass his whole life and Bojan is as bi a daffodil, dear. He just hasn’t realized it yet.

- Didn’t you say to not assume sexualities? That’s contradictory.

- I have a gaydar. – he joked - Also Kris is my best friend.

- And what am I? Do you know? Because I don’t!

- Want to learn together?

Martin looked at him, pondering what to answer. What he felt towards Jan was certainly different from anything he ever felt towards the other guys. But love? He wasn’t sure that was it. Maybe curiosity? Most likely, yes.

- No pressure. – Jan reassured him – You can back up at any time.

- Then it’s a yes. But promise me... if I’m not into guys then... Please don’t-

- Cry over you? I won’t. – Jan wrapped his index finger around Martin’s pinky – Promise.

If what Bojan and Kris felt when they were next to each other was loud and shiny, then Jan and Martin’s relationship was quiet and dark...but those are the ones that hurt the most.

And that’s why Jan was never able to keep that promise.

♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩

Afternote: I don't know how to write Martin due to ✨lack of information✨

Also, I'm always scared to portray characters that don't know much of LGBTQ themes because I'm always scared people will think that's what I think the community is, and: no? lmao.

I'm queer myself, but it's hard to portray the reality that people usually say rude things even when they don't mean it? I'm 100% sure I've been rude to the community even if it wasn't my intention back when I didn't know anything about it? I think that's normal (I'm not talking about people who will just straight up call slurs and call for our ends - I had to deal with one of those people today, unfortunately).

Anyways, I sure like to portray different types of love for someone who has never been in a relationship, uh? Maybe that's why I shoot my foot constantly.

Sorry for the little vent.

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