#but after a lot of practice I managed to get a good design down that worked

[little-mouse-gardens]

Did these awhile back but I tried to draw some art for my rise oc Marcy + Donnie and then once I was finished with that piece, I did one for Skye + leo.

Akdndak I’m honestly still pretty impressed with how each piece turned out, now I just have to eventually get to sunny + Raphs peice and then Mikey + Angie’s.

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First one (marcy x Donnie)

Second one (Leo x Skye)

[hoe4hotchner]

Hiii!! Could you do another non bau rich fem!reader where she gave Aaron lots of designer stuff and he starts wearing them to work? Like maybe ties, cuff links, and like an LV duffel bag and the team is just like “??? Woah dude where’d you get that??”

Subtle flex | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x rich fem!reader| WC: 0.9k | CW: nothing

Aaron Hotchner was usually not one for excess. His wardrobe was practical and professional, his tastes minimalistic, and his life, outside of Jack, revolved around efficiency and exuding authority on the job. Sure he had splurged occasionally on a stray high-quality tie here and there as well as his Rolex watch. At least that was until you entered his life.  

The first gift was a tie — a deep navy one in silk with subtle pinstripes. It came in a sleek wrapped box with some designer brand he had never even heard of before. You’d handed it to him with a casual smile, brushing off his initial protests with a light, “Aaron, I saw it and thought of you. Let me spoil you for once.”  

He wore it the next day, paired with his standard black suit, and noticed how it caught the light in the mirror. “Looks good,” he muttered to himself, brushing his hand over it. As hesitant as he had been to accept it, he was thankful for the present and happy that you'd chosen one that wasn't smothered in logos or brand names.

Then came the cuff links. They were sterling silver and engraved with his initials. He opened the box late one evening after you handed it to him over dinner. “You didn’t have to,” he said softly, though his smile betrayed how much he loved them.  

“Of course, I didn’t have to,” you replied, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple. “But you deserve nice things, Aaron. You do so much good without even expecting a thanks.”  

And so it continued. A Louis Vuitton duffel bag for his work trips, a black leather wallet that somehow managed to look even more professional than the one he’d carried for years, and a collection of even more ties that were understated yet undeniably luxurious and seemed to multiply in his closet every so often.  

At first, he rotated the items slowly into his everyday wardrobe, unsure if they would draw attention. But one particularly chaotic morning, he grabbed the LV duffel, clipped on the cuff links, and shrugged into a jacket before heading into the office having gotten an urgent notification for a case.  

It didn’t take long for the team to notice.  

“Uh… Hotch?” Morgan’s voice cut through the usual buzz in the conference room as Hotch entered. “Is that a Louis Vuitton bag you’re carrying?”  

Hotch glanced at him briefly, setting the duffel down by the door before striding towards the front of the room to grab the file Garcia was holding outstretched for him. “Yes. Why?”  

Morgan blinked. “Why? Man, you’ve been holding out on us. Since when do you roll up looking like you just stepped out of GQ Magazine?”  

Emily leaned back in her chair, eyebrows raised. “Is that a new tie, too? That’s at least Tom Ford.”  

Hotch adjusted his tie instinctively. “It’s not. It’s Brioni.”  

“Oh, excuse us,” JJ chimed in throwing her hands up and exchanging an amused glance with Emily.  

“I’m sorry,” Spencer Reid piped up, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Are those cuff links monogrammed?”  

“Okay, seriously,” Morgan said, crossing his arms. “What’s going on, Hotch? You win the lottery or something? Cause if your salary is high enough for those purchases Imma have to talk to Strauss about a raise.”  

Hotch, shrugged lightly as he opened his case file. “No. My girlfriend has… a habit of giving gifts.”  

The room fell silent for a beat before Emily’s jaw dropped. “Wait, girlfriend? You’ve been holding out on us in more ways than one!”

"Who is she I need details," Garcia cut into the conversation, her excitement starting to bubble over.

JJ smirked. “Are you telling me she just gives you designer gifts casually? I agree with Garcia, who is this woman?”  

Hotch allowed himself the smallest of smiles as he glanced up from his paperwork. “Someone who insists I deserve the finer things.”  

“Damn,” Morgan muttered, shaking his head. “Where can I find one of those?”  

“Maybe start with charm school,” Emily teased.  

As the team bantered, Hotch’s phone buzzed on his desk. A message from you:  

Miss you already. Hope you’re putting the cuff links to good use. Dinner at my place when you get back?

He smiled quickly at his phone before typing back a quick reply.  

Always. I’ll bring the wine.  

When he looked up, the team was staring at him, curious. “What?” he asked, his tone amused, knowing fully well that they wouldn't stop bothering him about you until he eventually agreed to let them meet you.  

“Nothing,” Emily said, though her grin suggested otherwise. “Just trying to imagine Aaron Hotchner in love with a rich fashionista.”  

“Not just a fashionista,” Morgan added, gesturing toward the duffel. “An angel sent from the heavens, apparently.”  

Hotch shook his head, lifting his file up in the air in a quick and smooth motion as if to remind them why they were there. “Focus, everyone. We have a case.”  

A few days later, when you saw Aaron again, he mentioned the team’s reaction with a mix of exasperation and amusement.  

“I think they’re more interested in my wardrobe than the case,” he said, loosening his tie as he sat beside you on the couch.  

You laughed softly, running a hand through his hair. “Let them wonder. They’ll get used to it eventually.”  

“I’m not sure they ever will,” he muttered, leaning into your touch.  

“Good,” you teased, leaning in to kiss him. “I like keeping them on their toes.”  

[minhosimthings]

Silk and Pearls || SJY

Synopsis: He was the artist, and you were his muse. But what happens when his muse doesn't see herself like the way he sees her?

Pairings: fashiondesigner!Jake * Model!fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, fingering, mirror sex, anal sex, unprotected p in v (not for you), bondage, use of handcuffs, edging, degradation, praise, sorta angsty in the beginning, insecure reader, overall good ol bf Jake, lots of kissing cause these two are FREAKS

A/N: hello my babies 😚 So here is the promised fashion designer Jake fic this was kinda fun to write because I was extremely horny lol. Anywho ENJOY

"Did I really make a dress that pretty or is it just you, my love?" 

You felt your cheeks warm up drastically at the sound of your boyfriend's voice, along with his face appearing behind you. You saw his eyes light up as you stared at him in the mirror in front of you, his wandering pupils admiring how snug you looked in the dress you were wearing. With its brilliant outlay of white chiffon along with its minute details of chartreuse pearls highlighting everything Jake wanted to, it was by far the most beautiful thing he had ever breathed life into. 

Or perhaps it was only because of the person who was wearing it. 

"Don't go putting your hard work all over my shoulders again, babe." You laughed, turning your body to face him, "I'm just the model."

"The model is the muse, might I remind you." Jake corrected you, leaning in to place his forehead on yours, his love-struck eyes gazing longingly into yours, "How did I manage to capture the bouts of your affection hm, mon amour?" 

"You spend one week in Paris for Fashion Week and suddenly you're a romance novelist." You laugh, raising your arms and placing them on either of his shoulders, "As for your question—" you pretended to think, all while ghosting your glossy lips over his plump ones, "—I don't think you'll ever get the answer to that." 

"Shame, I was hoping you'd say something overly sweet about me." Jake laughed, before smudging his lips against yours. His ever so slender tongue moved in your mouth, as his hold on your waist tightened. Pulling away (after what had seemed like a very short amount of time to him) from the kiss, Jake took pride in the fact that you were quite breathless. 

"Jaeyun.” you spoke in a scolding voice, lowering your voice to a comedic level, “We are at work.”

“Your point is?” 

“My point is-” you looked into his beautiful eyes with nothing but love and admiration, “-there are about five people who know about our relationship, and you know you can't get into a scandal, it will positively ruin your reputation, the reputation you-” you poked his chest with your finger, “-worked so hard to achieve.”

“Let them write what they want.” Jake spoke to you in a honey coated voice, as if you were the very oxygen his lunds consumed in order to keep themselves alive, “You, my love, are practically impossible to resist.”

“You better give me your Paris lessons when we get home,” you smirked, eyes wandering down to his lush lips again, “lover boy.” The space between the both of you was practically non-existent now, and Jake could feel the pearls of your dress slightly pierce him through his thin button-up shirt. Perhaps he regretted making such a beautiful dress, especially to dress you up in it, because the way the touch of your thigh on his and felt, he could rip it off right there and then, wasting his months of hard work, and devour you against the mirror. He wished he could see your divine eyes roll to the back of your head, while he ravished your pussy with his tongue, all whilst leaving his personal signature on your thighs. After all, that was what he added the thigh-high slit in the dress for.

“Yeun,” you warned him, as his hand trailed higher up your thigh, only stopping at the sound of your voice and giving a tight squeeze to the flesh, “You can have me all you want when we get home.” The sight of the pout on his face, a stark contrast to the siren eyes he held five seconds ago, made your mouth twist into a gentle smile.

“Don’t blame me if you can’t walk tomorrow morning, love.” He smirked and went in for a kiss, as beautiful as the wavering skyline of the city, all the building lights flickering along with the stars to remind the earth of how alive it was. In the deepest parts of the kiss, where your lips danced to a tune which you had memorised, love reigned its gentle rule.

____________________________________

The sound of makeup palettes being tossed on tables and brushes full of powder and eyeshadow being dabbed against porcelain skin overwhelmed you. The world will always see the perfect last outcome, of straight eyeliner that could cut stone, legs that could send Gods to their knees begging for mercy, lips that anyone would want to press infinite kisses to, and bodies wrapped in artworks. But they would never see the background of it all, the painful ordeal of sitting in a chair for hours to manipulate the face of a doll. Your ass had already gone numb ten minutes ago. 

“Alright, spill it to me. You have transfiguration powers right?” you joked, looking at your hair-and-makeup artist, Sunoo, who was running his slender fingers through your hair, making sure every strand fell into its correct place.

 “I went through painful cosmetology courses, just for you to call me a witch?” Sunoo scoffed, surveying you with a satisfied look on his face, ”Gee thanks for the compliment Y/N.”

“I’m joking you asshole.” you rolled your eyes, taking his outstretched hand and helping yourself out of the chair. Your butt silently thanked you, as you stretched your limbs, “Well don't I look pretty today?”

“Yes hon, the show-stopper obviously has to look pretty.” Sunoo sassed, putting his hands on his hips, “Jake really outdid himself with this one though, I am loving the pearls.”

You tried to keep your smile to yourself at the sound of your boyfriend’s name. Jake had made some ‘structural’ changes to the dress a night before the show so that it would fit more alluringly on your body. That is to say, he made the changes after getting inspiration from an hour’s session in your bedroom. 

“I just hope everyone will like it!” you said with an air of happiness.

“Of course they will.” Sunoo reassured you, “because number 1, it's on you and number two, it is on you.” He spoke every word with force, giving you his foxy smile before disappearing, telling you to wait in the room until someone called you. 

Sighing to yourself for no particular reason, you went back to admiring yourself. You truly looked regal, like some badass assassin who was going to murder someone at her wedding, a gunshot wedding, would be the perfect theme for Jake's next show, you thought, taking a mental note to tell him. After all, he did love experimenting with his reds and his whites. The door to the room was slightly ajar, which allowed the sounds from outside to enter. You moved towards it to close it. Stopping at the handle, at the sound of your name. 

“...not like she even has much talent. She’s literally getting in because of her boyfriend.” one of the girls, dressed in mauve silk told the one next to her. 

‘Wait, her boyfriend?” You heard the other one say, now shielding yourself from view with the door whilst eavesdropping. “Yeah, I’ve heard rumours you know?” The mauve girl said, “that her boyfriend is Mr.Sim, the designer. It makes sense wouldn't it?” she let out a crude laugh, “She’s not even that pretty and suddenly she gets to be showstopper. Yep, she’s definitely whoring herself out.” She laughed again, along with the other girl.

You felt your stomach sink as you quietly closed the door, not wanting to hear anything else. Is that really what the other models thought of you? That you were only here because of Jake? That you were only using him for your own benefit? 

You stared at yourself in the mirror again, brushing back the slit to reveal your leg. Your eyes wandered down the length of your entire body. What you had once so happily admitted, now looked like an ugly piece of flesh to you. Each imperfection caught your eye and you could feel the tears brimming at your eyeline. 

“Y/N!” you heard Sunoo cry out. Quickly swallowing the lump in your throat, you called back out, feeling relieved to see his face appear in the doorway. “Come on hon, you’re on in two.” Sunoo smiled, “Ahh you look so pretty!” he smiled, extending his hand to help you walk outside in your heels, “They’re gonna love you.”

“Thanks Sun.” You managed a smile, stepping out onto the boundary of the runway, where the show manager would give you the cue to walk. Taking a deep breath, you took on an expression of calm, to represent the serene and elegant atmosphere of the dress. And with a wave of the manager’s hand, you walked.

One foot in front of the other, you stared at the imaginary dot in front of you, just like you had been taught, with your heels clacking perfectly to the beat of the background music. The walk to the end of the runway had always felt so long, and this time was no exception. But as you reached there, and struck your pose, smiling for the cameras to take their pictures, you couldn't help but think about what the girls were saying earlier. 

Not now Y/n, you thought to yourself, pushing that thought to the back of your head, and concentrating on your current position. Giving your signature grin to the cameras, you spun on your heel and walked back, stopping in the middle to reveal your leg from the slit. You could hear the excited murmur from the crowd, smiling to yourself at the satisfaction you got. You struck your final pose with all the other models assembled on the stage, and then the pandemonium of roses and applause broke out. The people clapped like never before, and you could hear someone calling out Jake's name. You remained in your position until you felt a warm presence next to you, skipping your hand into his and guiding you along with him down the runway again.

Jake had never looked so beautiful, you thought, with two spikes of his  hair framing his face perfectly, like a lion’s mane. You tried to not let your eyes linger down to his chest, which remained open against his suit. God damn did he look handsome. You couldn't remember much of anything that followed. All that you thought about was the warm feeling of Jake's hand against your skin, and the way he bragged to everyone about his showstopper. 

Yet, there was something at the back of your mind that kept biting you. 

____________________________________

“You’re quiet today, love.” Jake commented, as you silently put your washed plate back on the shelf. He had noticed how low you had been ever since coming back from the show. At first he brushed it off as you being tired, after all, modelling is no piece of cake. But the fact that you had spoken less than five words to him even after taking a nap was concerning. 

"Just...tired." You mumbled, giving him an unconvincing smile. Jake tilted his head to one side and motioned for you to sit down next to him on the couch. 

"And do tired people usually cook dinner for their boyfriends instead of ordering pizza?" He asked, making you chuckle, "What's wrong sweetheart?" Jake placed his hand gently on your thigh, leaning in closer to you. You took a shaky breath in. 

"Yeun, you love me right?" Jake's entire world seemed to pause at your question.

Whatever did he do to make you ask that ridiculous question?

"Baby what are you saying?" He asked, sending you a soft smile, "Of course I love you and if this is about me taking the last cookie, I swear I'll ask Jay to bake you more."

"No, it's not that." You laughed, bringing your head down, "It's stupid really, I shouldn't even be worried." You took another deep breath, "I just heard some of the girls talking to each other today, you know saying some crap about how I'm only the showstopper because I'm your girlfriend and everything." Before you knew it, you were rambling, "And I really do love you, you know. I'm not only in this relationship because I want to use you or something and i know I'm not really that pretty for you to love me but—"

"Y/N."

The sound of your name dropping from his lips silenced you. You stared down at your legs, fiddling with the edge of your (Jake's) shirt, until his fingers intertwined into yours. His touch was warm as always, comforting like the sea breeze on a beach day. 

"Baby, look at me." Jake said, prompting you to lift your head, "Properly, Y/N." He said again, when you avoided his eyes. Jake smiled when you finally looked him in the eye. 

"I don't want you to ever think even for a second that you're not the most beautiful human being I've ever met." Your eyes widened at his soft words, "Baby, you were the showstopper today, because you worked hard for it, not because you're my girlfriend and the love of my life." A smile twitched at the corner of your lips, "And I'm going to need the names of those girls right now, for extremely unrelated reasons."

You burst out laughing, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen from your right eye. "Are you going to murder them for me?" You asked, to which Jake put his finger to his temple and pretended to think, "I'm not going to bail you out Yeun." You said, slapping his chest playfully. 

"But seriously though—" Jake's eyes softened, as he took your hands in his, bringing your knuckles to his lips to kiss them, "—I love you so much, I'd go to the ends of the Earth if you asked me to." He brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, "And if anyone ever thinks that you didn't work your fine ass off to get where you are, they'll be very close to the 'Jake firing list'." 

A moment of silence followed before the both of you burst out laughing at his statement. Jake took the opportunity to pull you by your waist closer to you. 

"Well then—" Your eyes wandered from his eyes to his lips, "—can I perhaps see that list?" Your body was practically merged with Jake's, with his hands slapped on your waist, and your arms around his neck. 

"Well then we would have to go to my studio wouldn't we?" Jake said in a lower tone, biting his lip. His eyes stayed on yours, as he swiftly lifted you up, making you wrap your legs around his hips for support. Your breasts were extremely close to his face, a fact which Jake was relishing. A giggle erupted out of your mouth as his hands gave a squeeze to your buttcheek, his feet slowly leading the both of you into the bedroom. 

“I assume your studio is your bedroom then?” You laughed, as Jake entered the darkly lit bedroom, the only source of light being the faded night lamp that he kept for ‘the aesthetic’. Jake chuckled before going in for a kiss.

It started as a small kiss. A peck. A brush of the lips so gentle you barely felt it until he pressed his mouth to yours fully. There was no tongue, nor any breathlessness when he pulled away and looked at you again. But you could feel the shift in the air. The drop in your stomach and sudden stillness in the room while a white noise clouded your head. 

“The bed is right there, Yeun.” You said, eyeing him suspiciously as he carried you across the bed and towards the huge dressing mirror. Jake said nothing, choosing to set you down very close to the mirror, while his hands gripped your waist. He knew he had gotten you trapped in between his arms, just the way you liked it. You’re a little light-headed, blistered beneath the skin, needy and fidgeting. Maybe you want him to hold you still, to fit you tight against him, to fight against your struggle—something carnal deep down that gets off on his strength, the power you know he can wield over you.

“How about I show my beautiful princess how pretty she really is hm?” He whispered in your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck ever so slightly.

He manoeuvred you so you were facing the mirror. He was right behind you, his eyes hard. “The woman you're looking at right now is the prettiest one I've ever seen. How can you say she's ugly?” You opened your mouth to say something, but a moan escaped instead as he bit into your shoulder. 

 He began to press you flat against the mirror. The cool touch of glass on your cheeks combined with his hands reaching underneath your shirt to squeeze your breasts made you let out an unholy noise. Jake smirked as he heard you moan, his ego was filled to the brim as he realised how wet he made you just from his touch. 

“Ah fuck Yeun,” you moan to him as his palms knead your breasts through the bra. You barely had time to notice his hands leave your chest, as he grabbed the edges of your shirt and pulled it off of you in one swift motion, leaving you almost naked in your bra and panties. You felt his erection press through his pants to your ass, as his lips started trailing down your body, pressing heavenly kisses until your hips. You whined as his hands gripped your thighs, squeezing them as if they were stress toys. 

"You look away from the mirror even once…,” he said, his hands squeezing your thighs roughly, his legs now carrying him back up to place his chin on your shoulder, his face set in a smirk, “and you won't get to cum.”

 His hands squeeze your thighs harder, bordering on pain. “Shh princess,” he said, slowly yet firmly as if talking to a child. His hands move downwards, one moves to your hip, and for the other, his fingers slip inside your panties. You whimper when his fingertip touches your clit.

 At any other time, he would have been slow, and gentle when he was rubbing the bud but now? His touch was fast and unconcerned, his sole goal was to inflict punishment with pleasure. 

Jake's finger flicked out against your clit again, making you yelp and squeeze your thighs against his hand. Your hand pressed hard against the mirror, as you looked at Jake's smug face behind you, while yours was contorted into one of absolute pleasure. This time he ran his finger up to your clit and then back down and into you. You moaned, practically riding his fingers at this point. Jake laughed, digging his hands into your hips, uncaring if he broke skin.

"Yeun—Yeun ah fuck!" A string of broken moans escaped your lips, as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. Your mind has forgotten all about the incident of the morning, your attention now only on the way his fingers fit inside your pussy, like a glove. The pace of his fingers fastened, as his middle finger drove across your clit, repeatedly assaulting the place Jake knew drove you crazy.

"Yeun!" You screamed, your tears staining the mirror, as you felt your pussy clench around nothing when Jake's fingers pulled out, “Wh-”

“Told you princess.” His mutter in that seductive australian accent of his drove you crazy, “Eyes away from the mirror means no cumming.” You silently seethed at him smirking behind your shoulder, as his lips latched onto your skin once more, pressing marks all over as if it were his personal signature. His fingers hooked underneath the waistband of your panties, as you easily moved them off of you, with you lifting your legs to give him better access. Jake chuckled silently with how obedient you were being. Soon, he was quickly unbuckling his pants to unveil his already hard twitching cock eager to pound into you. 

“gonna let me fuck you princess? gonna be a good girl for me?” he says, stroking his dick as he swipes his thumb over his slit wiping away his precum yet it still spews out, covering thumbs in the substance.

Your eyes widened and hurried, almost rushing gasps left your mouth in quick succession which, combined with the low guttural groans coming out of Jake’s throat created an almost perfect melody. His thick length was taking its sweet time in spilling your ass apart, completely tearing you open, until you were panting from just the entrance. Jake’s low, mocking chuckles left your mind empty, as his hands pulled your waist flush against him, trying to bury his cock in even deeper.

“Yeun-I can’t!” you cried out in desperation, although all you wanted was for the entirety of his length to be bruised deep inside you, “Slow down!”

Your whines resonated against the walls of the room, as light particles of fog started appearing on the surface of the mirror, gathering at the place where your mouth was repeatedly moaning both profanities and Jake’s name, turn by turn. The tip of his cock was practically hitting your cervix at this point, and you were on the verge of fainting, with your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Eyes on the mirror, princess.” Jake reminded you, smirking at your fucked out expression. He always did love making you feel like putty in his hands, and this was no exception. Your eyes snapped back to your reflection and they trailed over Jaeyun behind you. His handsome face was set like a painting, with two strands of his hair framing it in a delightfully sexy way.

His hips hit you harder, giving you every inch of him. “Fuckkk.. princess, you’re doing such a good job -- taking me so goddamn well,” he says, punctuating his words with another hard thrust.

His expression grows almost enamoured at how you're squeezing him-tense, as he thrusts into you, balls slapping against your ass at his relentless pace. Hot, searing pleasure makes its way up your spine-emitting a low, almost inaudible, squeal from you as he pinches your clit.

He fucks you in earnest, feeding you his cock like you haven’t had a meal in years. All you can do is watch, admire the look of his face, the perspiration that gathers on the edge of his hairline as his fingers grip your legs harder. 

You’re a babbling mess — crying out with every thrust. It’s mostly wordless, except for when his name leaves your lips like a prayer. The room is filled with the sound of his balls slapping your ass, that wanton sound of skin-on-skin.

“Fuck-gonna cum.” You hear him mutter in that same sultry voice that could get you cumming without him even touching you.

“Yeun, ah—ah,” you moan, but he cuts you off, the sound of skin-on-skin fills the air.

Jake groans as his balls draw up and begin to tighten. Now deep inside you, as the pressure finally breaks and he lets himself go, spilling every ounce of him into you. Heaven and hell collide in that moment, blurring into a world where only you exist—like nothing else matters but the two of you tangled together, lost in the alchemy of it all. You feel the hot liquid drip down your thighs as you lay your forehead against the mirror, your chest riding and falling periodically as you attempt to calm down. You were so caught up in your cock-drunk high that you didn't even notice Jake pulling out slowly, releasing more of his cum onto your skin.

"Good girl....took me so well." Jake praised you in muttered words from behind, making his own breathing steady, "Bed, baby?" 

"Thank you." You sighed, feeling sleepy as ever, completely oblivious of the fact that Jake was not about to put you to sleep. 

You couldn't comprehend what happened in the next few moments, just the fact that in what seemed like mere seconds, your back was pressed against the soft mattress, with Jake's face inches from yours as he loomed above you. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Think you can take my cock again, pretty?" He asked you, with a lopsided smirk on his face, "Or is my baby too tired?" 

"N-No." You stuttered, the feeling of his breath on your skin made you shiver, no matter how warm it was. You must have been in this position at least a hundred times, but it always got you feeling like it was your first time when you were all nervous and shaking beneath him.  

Jake chuckled, pressing another one of the thousand kisses he had given you, and reached over (with some difficulty) to the bedside drawer. Pulling it open, he drew something out. 

"How about these for tonight hm?" He asked, dangling the handcuffs above your face, "Will you be a good girl for me?" 

You said nothing, dumbly nodding to his every word. Jake took your wrists in his hand and pinned them above your head. Your arms stretched properly, before he latched them up to the bed frame, you winced at the cold touch of the metal. You always had wondered why the frame was made up of twisting coils of iron, before you got your answer in the form of handcuffs.

Jake leaned in once more, this time, pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw, effectively silencing you. You tilted your head back, giving him better access to the crook of your neck. You sucked in a shaky breath as you felt the points of his teeth grazing feather light across the sensitive skin, goosebumps erupting on your skin and heat settling in your lower stomach. You could practically feel him smile against you at your reaction, ever so cocky to see you melting into his touch

Jake settles between your legs, sliding his hands under your thighs to gently manipulate you upwards. His bare cock slides through your slick folds, the head catching on your clit and making you groan in unrestrained want. You reach out to grab his body, dizzy with desire, but you can't. Your hands are bound with the cuffs so tightly, that you couldn't even reach the lock.

You can only cry into the dark night, feeling his throbbing cock stretching out your walls as he pounded you in so hard there was sure to be a dent in the mattress. Your walls would remember the stretch and think only of him. 

“Yeun—S-slow down…” You mewled, juices spraying out and coating your clit as it drips down, teardrop shapes sure to stain your face.

The back of your head presses as tight as it can against the pillow, you were stifling the guttural moan that rips from your throat. You could die like this suffocated and blissfully impaled on Jake’s cock and be happy. Your hands, bound tightly above you, itched to reach out and take his hair into your hands.

With a tight grip on your waist Jake fucks into you at his own pace, watching how easily you accept him, covering him with your essence. It feels fucking fantastic. 

His skin slaps against yours rhythmically. You swear you can cum at that moment but he knows all your tells and he slows his pace, pushing into you only when the tip remains. Long, slow strokes keep you from cumming.

“Yeun–Jaeyun~” You whine, already so close to cumming, “Please–let me cum,”

Jake responds with a harsh chuckle, almost a scoff, as if to ask how you even dared to say those words. His already slow movements slow down even more, practically stopping at the point, which only made you titchy and uncomfy. That boundary that was present at the pit of your stomach was ready to break, but Jake wasn't about to let it.

“Not until you say you’re my pretty girl.” He smirks, his cock still buried deep inside you, unmoving. You scoff at his words.

“I'm your pretty girl.” you say, in an almost bored voice, wanting nothing more than for him to get moving, “Now can you please–”

Your sentence faded into a deep groan, as Jake's cock swiftly pulled out from your pussy. It was painful, agonising even, to feel nothing but cool air at the tip of our labia.

“Nicer, baby.” Jake whispered, but just as you opened your mouth, you were stopped by the intrusion of his long finger into your gasping hole.He chuckles quietly, snaking a hand up over your stomach. the rough pad of his hand finds your breast, kneading it in his palm whilst his other hand holds you firm against him. His gaze is still trained on you, dragging over the lush sight of your flushed face, your lips parted in small pants, the dark look in your eyes. He loves watching you fall apart at his smallest ministrations. more than half of his pleasure comes just from working you up like this, pushing you to the brink without even trying. 

“Alright, I'll give you a little help.” Jake says, his free hand reaching cover to your hands. With a click sound, the handcuffs trottled off of you, leaving your hands free to finally reach out to him. But he wouldn't let you, not until you've done what he wanted you to do. 

“Did I cover your mouth?” his words echo as he pins your wrist over your head once more. “Answer me, princess.” 

“Yes!” You screamed out, unable to take his teasing anymore,”Yes–fuck I’m your pretty girl!” And that’s all he wants because he’s dropping you down, shoving his entire dick inside until your eyes burst with tears feeling his thick trimmed hair tickling your clit, completely bottoming out. 

“Yeun…I-I need you more please.” your eyes were filled with tears as you held his hair, fingers rubbing against his scalp, the other digging into his shoulders as you drooled. Such a mess in such a small time. Jake shuts his eyes and throws his head back.. 

“Oh—ohhhh—fuckin’—,” a string of pleasured sounds is leaving his open mouth and you follow him, reveling in the sensation of him pushing your walls apart, filling you nicely like no one has ever had.

You both are moaning, chasing your climaxes with increasing intensity. You tilt your hips a little to press your pulsating clit against the fluff of his pubic hair and grind your pussy over his lower belly. Jake’s cock moving deep inside you, your clit twitching in his coarse hair, all the sensations combined light up your body.

"I love you," you whimpered when his hips began to grind into you, giving your clit that extra stimulation you needed to feel your orgasm swell low in your belly, your jaw dropping and your breath quickening with each forceful thrust, “God–I love you so much!” Your last words faded out in a scream.

“Yeun, i’m close,” you sob, your voice shaking. You feel his hips snap against yours, skin slapping in the quiet night as he drills you into the mattress. The room smells of him, like cologne and something woody, and it drives you even closer to the edge. He’s taking over your senses; the sight of him hovering over you, muscles in his abdomen clenching and rippling as he fucks into you is enough to make you scream on its own. 

The bed sheets are fisted in your hands as you hold on. Your nipples brushing against the bed with each thrust. It doesn’t take long at all for you to titter over the edge. Your pussy squeezing tightly around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

 He’s not far behind, hips meeting yours with a force that is almost painful, though you’re far too distracted by the fireworks blooming behind your eyelids. You feel him spill into you, hot seed pouring into your soaked cunt and making your thighs shake. His groans are hoarse, a couple grunted curses and growls of your name joining your chorus of moans in the room. He sits up once you’ve both ridden out your high, heads swimming as he watches his cum spill from between your legs when he pulls out.

"fucking hell..." You hear him swear under his breath, wincing at the absence of your hole wrapped around him. Nevertheless, he swiftly moves towards the bathroom, to fetch you a towel. You didn't have even an ounce of energy in your body to lift your head, so you resorted to letting it stay on the pillow, whilst your legs stopped shaking from the wondrous orgasms that your body had experienced.

"Baby do you wanna take a b-" Jake froze, at the foot of the bed, towel clutched in hand, and eyes set on you. You looked so calm and serene, taking shallow breaths as you snuggled into the mattress and slept. Jake chuckled at the sight.

Not wanting to wake you up, he gently wiped your legs with the towel, and—after cleaning himself off, slipped into the bed next to you. You automatically adjusted to his warm body next to you, practically throwing yourself onto him and using him like a mattress, but he didn't mind. Jake pressed a kiss to the side of your head, and only squeezed you closer, as if you'd float away if he let go.

"I love you." He muttered with a lovesick smile on his face, before he eventually drifted off to sleep, "My pretty baby."

Fin.

Taglist: @onlyhyunjin @yvnempire @j-jinxee @kpopaussieline @candewlsy @heesingshoon @biancaness

[electrozeistyking]

Hi, I really like making little personalized references for characters I like when I get into things! I do this to figure out how I wanna draw them, and is a recent-ish development that I haven’t done a lot, but I really like character design and thinking about them! So I made some for Siffrin. How fun!

DO NOTE THAT THIS WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR LATER PARTS OF THE GAME. I did obviously tag it as such for the sake of others and it will be further down, but I figured I’d still warn you just in case. <:3

Now, without further ado, here’s “reference one!”

I’m personally gonna be using this in conjunction with Siffrin’s actual reference sheet (which I refer to as “notes” in mine!!) to make sure he look his best! I also wanted to make sure they’re “in line with canon,” yet still in my style and in a way I can be proud of.

Which isn’t that hard, since I’m usually always proud of my own work. I just like my own stuff. <:3

Due to the brim of his hat allegedly being bean-shaped (teehee), I thought it’d be fun if I carried that over to his torso/body. It’s not noticeable with a cloak in the way, nor when Siffrin’s standing straight up. Basically, the bean shape would only be revealed in certain poses.

(Coming up with that also made me say “Whoops! All beans!” out loud about Siffrin, btw.)

Additionally, I like giving characters is their own set of fangs. One character I draw has a gap between them and the rest of their teeth, one has prominent ones to make them more cat like on purpose — and for Siffrin, I decided to give them rounded ones.

I usually make fangs razor sharp, because I really like big ol chompers like that, so them being round is definitely a very unique thing for Siffrin to have. Well, at least at first.

I’m also a really big fan of certain design elements sticking around after something wild happens to characters… which brings us to “reference two.”

Well, if you’re not gonna be able to find any good references for this version of Siffrin, you might as well make your own, right??

The major thing I wanted to do with this Siffrin was to have him still feel like himself, but also give him somewhat of a unique design in comparison — by playing up elements I noticed during this scene.

Making this Siffrin feel as giant as they are was important to me. I went ahead and made their hat, face, hair and cloak longer. Made their shoulders broader, had them hunch over so they’d practically loom over everyone. Trying to appear smaller while still being an obstacle. Wanting everyone to stay here. Wanting their family.

I noticed that a lot of Siffrin’s hair seemed a lot more angular here, so I felt it crucial to use those shapes, but going a couple steps further and using them for his face as well… primarily his mouth and chin, of course. Which meant replacing those rounded fangs I gave him with a full set of sharper ones.

(I also wanted them to look like they’re too big for Siffrin’s mouth, so two of them — well, four? — will always peek out/fall past their lower lip. It’s like their teeth are not a comfortable fit whatsoever and it makes talking feel weird, but they manage.)

(They stick around after Siffrin “reverts back” or whatever we’re calling it. He never gets his round fangs back, but at least the ones he has now serve as a reminder that he got to the end. Might take some getting used to, though.)

(I also tried making their brows look a bit more angular? Can’t tell if they really come across that way.)

ANYWAY, I THINK I SHOULD STOP HAHAHA. I could go on and on all day, but I got other things to do and I think I’ve already explained enough! Just know that I get a kick out of putting love and care into character thoughts and designs. <:3

[artbyblastweave]

Okay, Time for that belated Shrinking Rae post-

In the comics, Shrinking Ray's "arc" (bearing in mind an extremely liberal definition of that term, they had exactly one scene showcasing this) was that he was implied to be developing an inferiority complex; he's not necessarily incompetent, but he's out of his niche, his clever shrinking-based plans kept getting upstaged by brute-force solutions from the more conventionally powerful heroes like Invincible. He's the scrawny, nerdy little guy with the joke powers, he never gets a win, and in most fights he literally isn't visible. In the fight with the Lizard League his death is framed as pathetic and ineffectual- there's one or two panels between "I'll make you pay!" and getting eaten alive by Komodo. All of this is doing a couple of things- it's emphasizing that again, this is in fact a story and setting where superheroes sometimes just die really badly with limited fanfare- a thing that IIRC hadn't happened since the original Guardians team wipe in issue 7. Second, it's an indicator that the new Guardians are structurally kind of on the ropes. They're heavily staffed by second stringers, they exact second they have to split their forces they suffer a 66 percent casualty rate, and that's with backing from two capes who aren't actually part of the team. Grim! Anyway, when they do the adaptation Shrinking Ray becomes Shrinking Rae, because they want to tweak the gender balance of the cast and the pun is too good to pass up. But I think that there was a reasonable reluctance to transfer the "arc" from the comics one-to-one, because to be blunt, "Ineffectual Nebbish Glasses-wearer who whines a lot and dies pathetically," paired with absolutely nothing else, is gonna read as misogynistic if the character is a woman now. So in the adaptation Rae is markedly more competent. We're introduced to her taking down a much larger opponent by fucking around inside his ear canal, which becomes a favored trick of hers. There are traces of the self-esteem thing- the visual gag where she physically shrinks about a foot when getting chewed out in the briefing- but the overall throughline isn't "look at this loser who somehow ended up on the guardians." In the Lizard League fight, she doesn't get eaten- she's deliberately trying to execute a Thanus maneuver and just fucks it up, seconds after successfully killing a different villain the same way. And there's a second where it looks like it might work, too, before hope is cruelly yanked away. Which makes for a markedly cooler death scene- but who died? What was actually going on with her? Anything? In some sense she's cooler, but it's kind of an undifferentiated cool. She had what, Six lines? Seven? On balance I think Rae is still doing her fundamental job in the story, which is to pad the Guardians roster for a while and have someone who actually dies and stays dead as a result of the Lizard League fight- but I think they definitely missed an opportunity to give her some more texture than her comic counterpart had. Part of me thinks that the show would have been a good place to go even harder on Shrinking Rae being in over her head, but in a considered way, to emphasize that the Guardians aren't well managed- maybe tie it into the tensions between Robot and Immortal regarding sustainable team management practices. Part of me thinks you should go the other way, that if you're gonna do away with the idea she's underwhelming you should blow up her role, have her actually say and do some things that affect the story or the team dynamic in any noticeable way, because as it stands she's kind of visibly siloed as the designated mauve shirt. I'm definitely of one mind that this showcases something I suspected was gonna bite the show in the ass, which is that they're (laudably) diversifying a secondary and tertiary cast whose main role in the source material is often to die badly or fade out of focus.

[shark0zu]

Guitarist! Fushiguro Megumi x GN! reader

context: Megumi is part of a band named “Joint Jinx Keystone” (JJK) alongside Satoru, Suguru and Yuji. Suguru is 22, Satoru is 21, and both Megumi and Yuji are 19. It took you a while to get inside the heart of this boy, but you managed.

content: Semi-Emo and Shy Gumi (best Gumi). CUDDLES!

warning: none. an: This Band! AU is made by sketchyysummer on Instagram! (link to their Tumblr). I made Satoru, Suguru and Yuji’s already (link to it below). It's Megumi’s turn now, and after this one, I’ll work on my Sukuna one… maybe… I don't know yet though (probably not whoops). Sorry in advance if this one lacks or is TOO slow burny..

Idol! Gojo Satoru HC Drummer! Geto Suguru HC Bassist! Itadori Yuji HC w/c: 1.4k

art: Summer's Band! AU Character Design

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

Guitarist! Megumi, who wanted nothing to do with anything that related to love, relationships or trust for that matter. He didn’t see a reason to be in a relationship (outside of his band)- even more since he had the band to worry about.

Guitarist! Megumi, who meets you and immediately places you in the “friendzone” spot in his head. Not caring enough to put you anywhere else (for now). Kept to himself and didn’t bother with learning tiny details or anything under surface level about you. Guitarist! Megumi, who definitely was not expecting to see you everyday. You would visit him while he was practicing with his guitar. You would wait for him at cafes and even get to be friends with his friends (specially Yuji). Guitarist! Megumi, who now finds himself confused about his own feelings. He's never felt that way. Does he like someone? Do you like someone? Was that someone him? Is this just him trying to not feel lonely? He was confused, truly.

Guitarist! Megumi, who started to ask you to hang out with him instead of you appearing out of nowhere to see him. He definitely tries to play it off… “I need you to help me with some song ideas.” he tells you while looking away.

Guitarist! Megumi, who now is so obvious but no one says anything or brings it up. His friends wanting to know how far he can take his obliviousness. Mostly Satoru (and Yuji) bothering him about it in subtle ways.

Guitarist! Megumi, who definitely asks for advice on how to ask you out. He asked Satoru for help first and surprisingly, helps him. He does look up to Satoru a lot, so he took his advice. Satoru actually decided to help him, not making fun of him or bothering him while giving him advice (like a good father figure).

Guitarist! Megumi, who is grateful for Satoru, he always will be. He did help Megumi get better and find a good life playing in the band alongside him and the others. He does not show it but he is very grateful for the white-hair man’s help since they met.

Guitarist! Megumi, who gathers the courage to ask you out… it went… alright. It went great but he didn’t think so. He asked you to meet him in front of his apartment. You went- of course. He was pretty nervous, almost embarrassed. He saw you and smiled. He smiled. You almost stopped in your tracks from the shock of seeing his smile. Guitarist! Megumi, who finally speaks, “Hey, so…I’ve been confused with my feelings-” he was struggling to say the least. He sighs, “Alright. Do you want to go on a date with me?” Finally, he said it. This time, you smiled ear to ear. You were waiting so long for him to ask you out. He finally did it. You never asked him because you were not sure if he liked you back.

Guitarist! Megumi, who for you guys' first date, takes you to a restaurant close to the beach. Light breeze makes you shiver under the moonlight. After a few seconds you feel a leather jacket on your shoulders. You look back and see Megumi looking at you and his hands over your shoulders. The view was beautiful. You sit down to have dinner, chat and overall enjoy the time you were passing with him.

Guitarist! Megumi, who paid for dinner, refused to let you pay even half. He took you by the hand and left the restaurant. You both walked by the beach aimlessly until you found a little table with two chairs that was ‘conveniently’ just… there? He definitely planned this. You didn't bring it up, not wanting to embarrass him. Guitarist! Megumi, who was definitely smiling like a little boy when he saw you sitting on the chair staring at the horizon. He felt lost in your view. His mind went blank. When you felt his gaze on you, you turned your head and smiled at him. Safe to say he melted right there and then. Guitarist! Megumi, who couldn't be more happy to be there with you at that moment. After almost an hour of talking about various topics. He asks, “Do you… want to be my partner?” With that you were lost in his blue eyes. Trying to find the words took you a while but you were able to speak. “Of course, I would love to be your partner Gumi!” Uh-oh… nicknames already? Red. This man is so happy it hurts his face from smiling way more than he ever has. Guitarist! Megumi, who the next day saw his bandmates, was smiling like a little kid. Yuji was… scared. He has never seen Megumi so happy in his entire life. Nonetheless he asked Megumi what made him all happy. “I asked someone out yesterday…” he pauses to create some type of suspense. “And????” Yuji asks, almost desperate. “...and they said yes.” he said happily.

Guitarist! Megumi, who saw Yuji’s face turn from suspense to utter astonishment. By the looks of it, Satoru and Suguru also overheard the conversation and the three men congratulated Megumi for his new relationship. They decided to commemorate this moment with dinner, which (of course) you were invited to. Guitarist! Megumi, who introduces you proudly as ‘his partner’. You smile and wave a ‘hello’ to his band mates. All three, Yuji, Suguru and Satoru were shocked Megumi was not lying (my poor boy, they never thought he would bag someone lol). They waved ‘hello’ back and welcomed you. Yuji hugged you, you hugged him back of course. Megumi didn't look so pleased but it was Yuji so he let it be.

Guitarist! Megumi, who after the dinner took you home, making sure you were safe. “Can I stay with you tonight…?” he softly asked. “Yeah, come in!” you said letting him in. You both took off your shoes at the door, hanging jackets on the hooks. “You wanna do something specific or…?” you asked, getting his attention. “You wanna watch a movie?” he said the first thing that came to mind. “Alright, what genre?” you said sitting on the couch in front of the TV and signaling him to sit beside you.

Guitarist! Megumi, who was definitely paying attention to the movie (he was, just not 100% of his attention). He sheepishly placed his arm over the headrest of the couch. You sat closer to him and placed your head on his chest while watching the movie. The movie was still going but you could feel his gaze on you, “Gumi?”, you catch him off guard. “Huh? Oh- sorry… was I staring too much?” he asks awkwardly. “No… just wanted to know if you were tired, cus I am.” a yawn escapes your mouth as soon as you finish that sentence.

Guitarist! Megumi, who nods and gets up from the couch, waiting for you to lead him to your room. You both arrive and you lend him some clothes that did not fit you anymore but thankfully fit him well. He changed in the bathroom, coming out when he was done to you already in bed under the covers. He slips under the covers, he does not know what to do. Still body, sleeping like a plank. You sigh and giggle, bringing him to your chest. Hugging him and snuggling closer.

Guitarist! Megumi, who freezes at the sudden contact but does not pull away, instead he wraps his arms around you and closes the distance even more. His head resting on your neck, light breathes tickling your soft skin. You can feel him smiling against you, which makes you smile in return. He starts some random conversation, so he could hear your voice. He ultimately ended up falling asleep to it.

Guitarist! Megumi, who after a whole year of being your partner, he still treats you the same (nothing was going to change). He takes you out on strolls, calls you to help him with his guitar, you guys go on dates- he loves you so much and you love him as much back. He wants to spend as much time as possible with you, and takes you everywhere. He does not show you off to people though, he likes his private life well- private.

Guitarist! Megumi, who definitely misses you when he goes out on tour. He will show he misses you by sending you voice messages, he is not really the type to call, he prefers to see your face in real life, not on a screen. Which you appreciate, even though you ask him to at least facetime once every blue moon.

Masterlist

[mullermilkshake]

Twelve days of fluffmas

On the third day of fluffmas, my true love gave to me...

Yakuza!Geto being a family man.

Day four

Yakuza!Suguru x Wife! reader

Tags: Yakuza!Suguru x Wife!reader, fem!reader, Yakuza AU, fluffy goodness, Suguru and you have twin daughters, Mimiko, Nanako, festive baking cookie decorating, kissing, gosh I love this AU so much

"No Daddy, that's not how it goes!" Nanako laughed at Suguru's design on the cookie.

Suguru thought the way how the green and red icing that was way too runny merged into one to make a vibrant mud brown was artistic, it seemed his five year old daughter did not agree.

"Nanako that's rude. Daddy's trying," oh the honesty of a five year old...

"But the icing goes like this, Mimiko..." Nanako squeezed the icing from the bag so hard it began to squelch in between her fingers as it dripped indiscriminately over the cookie. "See? A smiley face."

"Oh, of course," Suguru shook his head in agreement. "How could I do a different face other than a smiley one? It's Christmas after all."

"See?" Nanako wiggled her fingers covered in icing.

Suguru moved to get something to wipe it off her hands though before he could hand her anything, she was licking her fingers and staining her face with icing colour.

The girls had spent the morning baking with you, mixing and cutting the gingerbread cookies in different shapes to festive music.

It was all much more cohesive whenever you did messy things with the girls yet somehow when Suguru attempted it with them, they got more food on themselves than the actual cookies.

Now Mimiko was much neater and had more of knack of keeping inside the lines when she concentrated. Nanako however was much more wild and often chased her attention when she lost it frequently. She had the clever ability of getting mess everywhere without really trying.

"How's it going girls?" you emerged from the living room, leaning against the open door threshold of the kitchen. Your eyes were widened at the mess.

"They're so cool Mama."

Suguru wiped his hands and stepped over to you whilst they turned to see you and smile. "Keep going girls, I'm going to show your mama the other cookies you did."

The other cookies they'd decorated were on a cooling tray dripping all over the counter top, the colours merging together in a grey-brown and mash up of coagulating sprinkles and sugar.

He kept his voice low under the festive music from the next room. "How on earth do you manage to keep the mess contained?"

You smiled with a smugness only you could pull off and watched the girls adoringly. "That's great, Nanako. They look very cool, keep up the good work you two," then you leaned into him and kept your voice down too.

"Lots and lots of practice... amateur."

He stifled his laughter and wrapped his arm around you until he was behind you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. "I guess I have a lot to learn in the art of cookie making then, huh?"

"Just clear up as you go and you'll be just as efficient as I am," that was the kicker, when you pointed to the kitchen sink piled with utensils and dishes.

"Oh..."

It was going to take ages to clean all that up after. Sticky dried icing and colourful smudges over every surface.

"Girls? What do you say we play the washing up game after we finish these cookies?"

Even Mimiko groaned, licking a dab of icing from her dolly's head, wiping the wet away on her dress. Nanako slumped over and ended up rubbing icing all over her hair with her reaction.

"But washing up is boring daddy!"

It really was.

You stepped in the middle and held up your hands to each side. "I think what you two need is a bath. And then I will help daddy with the dishes before I get dinner sorted, and the girls have a hot chocolate on their hands."

"Yes!" Nanako jumped off of her little step. "Come on Mimiko!"

Their little slippers tapped along the floor and not long the little thumps climbed up the stairs towards the bathroom.

"Don't get icing everywhere, wait for me in the bathroom!" you called out and they probably didn't hear you, their excitement to much to bear.

Suguru let out a long exhale at the mess and rerolled up his shirt sleeves to make a dent in the catastrophe. Icing was even dripping off of the counter and onto the floor, the icing bags squeezed within an inch of their life.

If he started now, then maybe he'd be finished before morning.

"Oh, you missed a spot."

Suguru had barley wiped a spot with a damp cloth. "Hm-"

You dabbed a clump of icing on his nose and edged towards the living room. "Right there, see? You missed it."

No. You weren't getting out of it that easy. "I did, didn't I? Come here mama, can you get it for me?"

"No. Don't even think about getting icing on me. I just got the flour out of my hair."

"You brought this on yourself," Suguru edged towards you, arms out for a bear hug.

It was only then you must have realised what you had started, because you edged back further too. "Don't."

Suguru gave it three seconds before you would bolt for it right up the stairs to run the bath for the girls as an excuse to get out of an icing kiss.

You were fast, but not as fast as him and he managed to get a hold of your wrist and pull you close, wiping his icing covered face all over your own face.

"I love you so much mama, so very much and this kiss is just for you."

You cringed and wriggled around but in the end, it was futile. After a moment, you gave up and looked up at him. "You're such an ass."

"Yet you married me."

"I think I might regret that now," your sarcasm did not stop Suguru stealing a kiss, which then turned into a loving embrace.

"Ew! Daddy stop eating mama's face!"

"I said wait in the bathroom young lady!" pulling away, you marched right on over to the bottom of the stairs and laughed at their sudden squeals and thumps back up the stairs before following them yourself.

Suguru stopped for a moment in the happiness of his little family. It was perfect.

Then he turned backwards the kitchen to see that the mess had not disappeared.

And now he had icing all over his face.

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.1 K Warnings: none Prompt: The day after the race has you feeling sore, and after taking a potion to mitigate the pain, you ened up blabering a lot of your thoughts out in the world. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

ANOUNCMENT:

In a couple of weeks I'll make a Q&A to cellebrate Gilded Constellations reaching 100,000 words. And I'd love for all of you to be a part of it. So send in your questions, they can be anything you want, things like: How did you get the idea? Where does inspo come from? writing tips (I mean I don’t know much but anyway), character design, fancast, fav characters, things about me, about my plot notebook, literally anything you want, ask away (just state: For Q&A event or something) &lt;3

Chapter 12: You really got me. 

October 4th, 1976 - Monday

On Monday you woke up early but you were sore. The fall from the broom had finally taken its toll on your body, and you pretty much dragged yourself to the bathroom to get changed for flying, or maybe to go to the infirmary first, you weren’t sure which one was going to be more relevant by the time you managed to walk down the stairs. 

You somehow changed your clothes and quietly walked downstairs. James and Sirius hadn’t come down yet, so you let yourself fall on the couch awkwardly. Looking at the faint stars you had placed on the ceiling a couple of weeks ago. 

“Morning (Y/N),” Said James from the stairs when he spotted you “Didn’t expect you to be here today.” 

You frowned at his words “What? Why wouldn’t I be?” 

He looked at you with raised eyebrows “Your broom?” 

You gasped at that. He was right, you didn’t have a broom. “It… It went completely past me, shit.” 

He smiled and sat on the sofa next to yours “Sirius said he’s gonna skip today, I thought I’d be flying alone.”  

“Is he feeling sore?” 

“He was complaining so much this morning I didn’t expect you to even come to class.” 

You laughed “I mean, I do feel like I’ve been hit by a truck but, flying always makes me feel better.”

“Why don’t you borrow his broom? I’m sure he’ll say yes.” James said, it was an excellent idea. 

“Do you think the rest’ll mind if I…” you stated, motioning upstairs with your finger. 

James shook his head “Nah, go ahead. Peter sleeps like a log, you won’t wake him even if you bang on the door, and Sirius and Remus are already awake.” 

You nodded, and walked upstairs, towards the boys’ room. Once in front of the thick wooden door you knocked on it softly “Come in,” you heard Sirius’ muffled voice, probably by a pillow. And so you carefully opened the door. 

“Morning,” you said when you saw Sirius laying on his bed, head still buried on his pillow. 

He turned his head around casually “Oh, morning love.” He said once he noticed it was you “What are you doing here? you should be in bed. Aren’t you in pain too?” 

Sirius Black was really chatty in the mornings. You nodded in response, “I wanted to fly still.” 

He arched an eyebrow “Can’t miss one day of practice?” 

You shook your head “The wind always makes me feel good.” 

He nodded “Why are you here then? Couldn’t bear to go without me?” He teased.

“You wish,” you replied with a smile “I came to borrow your–“ 

You started, but then their bathroom door opened wide and Remus stepped out. With his pants loosely hanging over his waist, and both of his arms holding the towel he was using to dry his hair, shirtless. And holy mother of Jesus, Remus Lupin was hiding real muscles under all those sweaters. You could see the gush he’d gotten the day you’d found him on the hospital, and he hadn’t been lying, he really did heal fast. He turned his back, you stared for a second as his muscles flexed. Minho wished he had that back, the girls have no clue or they’d be lusting over the sexy pirate here instead, you thought. But after the initial shock you realised he had many more scars there than over his face, you wondered how the hell he’d gotten so many cuts and made a mental note to ask him one day, when you were closer.  

When he turned again and saw you’d been there he looked like a deer trapped in the headlights. “Ugh– sorry.” You said and turned around quickly, facing the door “didn’t mean to– I was just here to borrow Sirius’ broom.” 

“It’s ok,” you heard Remus’ calm voice from behind you. He was in fact not ok, but he figured I’d be weird if a boy panicked over someone seeing his chest, so he played it cool. “I’m not naked or anything.” 

“Right!” You said turning back around, he was already buttoning his own shirt, “I’m ugh– happy you’re better,” you said, passing your hand over your chest so he knew what you were talking about, “I thought I’d take longer to heal.” 

“Moony heals fast,” said Sirius, finding a quick excuse for his friend. 

“And madam Pomfrey’s an amazing mediwitch,” Remus added. 

You nodded, “I’m actually going to see her before flying,” you told them “Hope she can get me some pain killer potion or something.” 

“You’re sore too?” Remus asked with concern. 

You nodded “Like I was thrown off my broom at incredibly high speeds and rolled on the ground several times, yeah…” You said ironically. 

“I think you meant: saved by an incredibly handsome wizard from being hit by a tree.” Sirius corrected, you chuckled “Moony’s got some though, right?” 

“Do you?” You asked, looking at the taller boy, who was now fumbling with his tie. He nodded absentmindedly as he struggled to get the knot right, he was still nervous about his scars. You smiled and pulled your wand out, pointing at his neck “Ligatura Cravatia,” you mumbled, his tie suddenly escaped from his fingers and tied itself neatly.

He looked at you surprised, “Thanks!” 

You nodded “I could not tie a tie for the life of me,” you mentioned casually “had to learn an easier way.”  

Remus nodded and leaned in to open a drawer from his side table, it was filled with potions and infusions, and he took out a small vial, of which there seemed to be many, and handed it over to you. “Take half of that now and half of it when you feel sore again,” he explained. 

You nodded, thanking him as you took it from his hands, Sirius spoke “You made me take the whole thing. It tastes awful!” 

“Yeah Sirius, you’re almost as big as me, (Y/N) is tiny. I’d be too much for her.” You frowned at that.

 Tiny?, you thought, It wasn’t your fault Remus was so freakishly tall. Average, at least.

“Hm…” Sirius responded unconvinced and then looked at you “It’s under the bed.” 

“What is?” You asked confused.

“My broom?” He said with a frown “maybe you really just came to see me,” he said with a charming smile. 

You laughed at his teasing “Wouldn’t you like that?” You told him before leaning down to grab his broom from under the bed. You spotted some cassette tapes on a small box there too and smiled. Of course Sirius would keep his music like that. When you finally stood up you smiled at him “Thanks Puppy, you’re the best!” You said as you stepped out of their room. 

“You owe me one!” He shouted as you closed the door, to anyone it may seem he meant for the favour, but you knew what he actually meant with that, which only made you smile to yourself. Once you were back downstairs you were already in a better mood than that of which you had woken up with. 

James had fallen asleep on the couch, so you nudged him awake and the two of you walked towards the courtyard. As you walked through the halls you pulled out the little vial and drank half of the liquid, as Remus had advised. You winced, Sirius wasn’t being overly dramatic, it truly tasted awful, bitter and it lingered, almost like earwax. 

“Oh, is that Moony’s get-better-soon potion?” James asked casually, taking it from your hands.

You nodded “He gave it to me, to help with the soreness.” 

James nodded and gave it back “Be careful where you put it, one time it broke over his clothes and he had to throw them away, no spell would remove the foul smell from it.” You nodded, placing it where you thought it’d be better off “What are you going to do about your broom?”

“I actually sent a letter home last night, I asked them to send me my old Viper, and I sent the Dark Nimbus bits to the factory, asking them if there was a way to fix it.” 

“That was actually a great solution, I was gonna offer you my Phoenix Blaze but your Viper probably has more stability, and you’ll need it, especially since you’re our star keeper.” 

You laughed “We haven’t even played an actual match and yet you call me that.” 

“I know talent when I see it.” 

You nudged him lightly with your elbow and the two of you laughed. James was just so likeable, even if he was a little arrogant, he was noble and kind, and you were so happy you’d made him your friend. The two of you reached the courtyard soon after and then you were in the air. James didn’t want to push you too much so instead of having you do standard exercises he decided to let you pretty much do whatever you wanted. 

And you just flew, doing some twirls and circles in the air, but nothing too crazy. You loved the feeling of the air hitting your face, and the wind blowing all around you. Today was particularly windy, so you decided to fly even higher than you had before and allowed yourself to bask on the sun above the clouds. Once James realised how far up you were, he quickly caught up with you. “You alright?” He asked. 

You opened your eyes and turned to him, nodding “Just enjoying the day.” You told him “It’s a beautiful day…” 

You looked so at peace, almost too at peace. And then he remembered the effect the potion had once had on Remus, the time he took it on an empty stomach, it dumbed him out until he fell asleep in the middle of his favourite class, you didn’t look far from that, so he urged you to come down “I think we should probably go back down,” he said. 

You shook your head “But it’s so nice here, James.” 

“We’re definitely coming back down,” he said then, and flew closer to you, grabbing your arm and dragging you behind him towards the floor. Once close to the courtyard he let you land by yourself, and you checked your wrist watch.

“It’s still early.” 

“Yeah, we need to get you some food,” he told you, and the two of you walked towards the Great Hall. Only a couple of people were there so early. You sat down on the spot closest to the door and placed both of your elbows on the table, leaning your chin against your hands, and stared absentmindedly to the food. James grabbed some oatmeal and served it on a plate, dropping strawberries and other blueberries on them. Then he placed the plate in front of you. “Eat up,” he said. 

You looked at the food he’d placed and nodded, grabbing a spoonful and slowly bringing it all the way to your mouth “Thanks James,” you mumbled once you swallowed “you even added the fruit I like.” 

James nodded, as he served himself some eggs “Remus was telling me the other day that you almost always exclusively grab strawberries and blueberries.” 

“Mhm,” you agreed. “Remus is very observant, and strong.” 

James frowned “He’s what?” 

“Like really strong, under all those layers he wears, I didn’t know, but today I found out…” you said casually, only later realizing what you’d said “What the fuck did I just say?” 

James just laughed and decided to tease you for it “Merlin (Y/N)! Don’t thirst over my friends when I’m around.”

“I… I wasn’t– I didn’t… What the flipping hell did he make me drink?” You asked, placing your hands over your dizzy head and leaning in on the table. 

“It’s because you haven’t eaten.” He told you “You’d be surprised what he said that one time,” James said, recalling how a couple of years ago Remus had gone on and on about the colour of Sirius’ eyes. 

You looked at him, took a deep breath and started to gobble up your food, which just caused your friend to laugh even further as he casually plopped some bacon into his mouth. 

Remus and Peter arrived a couple of minutes later, and you buried your head in your second serving of oatmeal when you spotted the taller boy. Remus sat in front of you and Peter by his side. 

“You didn’t warn her to eat it before taking it,” James told Remus reproachfully. 

“Fuck,” he whispered in response. 

“You’re fucking lucky she was flying with me and not by herself.” He said again, James was surprisingly stern about it, and it wasn’t because you were his star keeper or his cyrano, but he’d genuinely grown fond of you, and he already considered you a friend, as much as he considered Mary or Marlene friends, maybe more, since you were a lot closer, and if James Potter was something, it was fiercely protective of his friends.  

Remus swallowed, James was right, he’d put you in danger. And all because he was so nervous about being shirtless and the fact that you’d seen all his scars “I’m sorry,” he said and placed a hand over your arm “You feeling alright?” 

You looked at him for a second, gaze lingering on his hands before  nodding and going back to your meal as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. James couldn’t help the diverted smile that slowly appeared on his face. 

Remus noticed, of course he noticed, “Oh… she started talking…” He acknowledged, finally taking his hand from your arm. 

James just laughed, remembering the confidence that you’d used to call his friend strong and took another bite of his bacon  “at least she didn’t talk about Sirius.” 

Remus looked at him mortified, but you didn’t notice, you were too busy looking at Lily and Beth who had just walked in “They have such stunning hair,” you said casually as you saw the different shades of red the girls had, but straightened up after, and sighing with a little frown, gobbling your food again “How much longer?” You complained. 

“I mean you’re not wrong,” James agreed, looking at Lily with heart-eyes “Remus was like that for a couple of hours…” 

“Hours?!” 

“I can take her to the common room,” Peter offered “We’ll tell Flitwick she’s still feeling bad about the fall, like Sirius, and he absolutely loves her anyway, pretty sure it won’t affect her grades.” 

“But class!” You said looking up from your food. 

“Sirius can take care of her,” Remus added, “it was his idea to give her the draught anyway.” 

“Sirius? No way! The things I’d say to Sirius in this state!” You complained, already thinking of how his hair was so bouncy and soft when it brushed over your face. “He’d have material to tease me for the rest of my life, and my afterlife.” 

James snorted at your words, coughing it out and cleaning his face with a handkerchief he had on his robe’s pockets. Perhaps it would actually be good to take you to the common room with Sirius, maybe you’d finally be able to admit your feelings for each other, he thought. Little did he know you’d done it the previous day “It’s a good idea.”

You shook your head distressed, but he was already helping you stand up. Peter had already run to the other side of the table. 

“Can you deal with her?” Remus asked him, “I can take her if not.” 

You looked at Remus and remembered all the things you could’ve said and stood straighter “I can deal with myself,” you said and motioned for Peter to come beside you.

Minutes later, you were walking through the halls alongside Peter “What did you say before we arrived?” He asked you casually. 

You sighed “Something along the lines of Remus is fucking ripped under all those sweaters.”

He laughed at your answer, you didn’t even mention Remus’ scars, which made him smile, since he knew how self-conscious his friend was about them. 

“Do we have to go to the common room?” You asked him “Or maybe you can leave me there but not tell Sirius about it.” 

Peter shook his head as an answer “What bothers you so much about being left with Sirius? Thought you guys were friendlier after he saved you.” 

“I’ve got nothing against Sirius. On the contrary, I actually really like him. That’s the problem, who knows what I might say when he’s in front of my face.” 

Peter laughed again “I’m sure he won’t put it against you, after all, you already talked about Remus’ abs and Lily’s hair, It’s just the medicine.” 

“Peter, you know Sirius.” 

He sighed at that and then shrugged “We’ll obliviate him if he gets too annoying.”

You looked at Peter with shock and laughed when you saw the little smile playing on his face. He was joking, who knew he had such a dark humour hidden in all his soft boy persona? To be fair, Peter had always been extremely nice to you and everyone you knew, he also had many friends from all around the school, perhaps more than James and Sirius, since they really liked hanging out with one another. “You’re still planning a prank?” You asked. 

“We’ve got something on the back burner,” he told you “but we’re not gonna do it yet, since James got detention after the race.” 

You nodded at that, by then you were just outside of the common room, he whispered the password to the portrait and the two of you walked inside. You let yourself fall on the couch as he went to get Sirius.You buried your head under a pillow, maybe if you were asleep, you wouldn’t be able to run your mouth and say embarrassing things about Sirius’ soft lips or his strong jawline.

A couple of minutes later they both came walking down the stairs, Sirius was the first one to speak “Peter says no one told you to eat before drinking the draught.” He said as he approached you. You made a muffled sound from underneath the pillow in response.

“Well then, take care of her, yeah?” Peter said before waving goodbye to his friend, “See you later (Y/N)!”

“Bye Peter, thanks for bringing me here!” You said, voice still muffled by the pillow you refused to remove from your face. If you did not see Sirius maybe you wouldn’t remember how pretty he was. 

As Peter left, Sirius walked closer to you, raising an eyebrow when he spotted you still hiding under the pillow still “The light bothering you love?” He asked politely, “We could go up to my room, it’s darker when we close the blinds.” 

“Mm-mm,” you denied, refusing to even open your mouth in case you let something slip. 

Sirius, being oblivious to why you were being so hell bent in hiding your pretty face under a pillow, sat down on the floor to level his head to yours as much as possible, a soft groan left his lips as he hit the floor. You winced when you figured how close he was. He leaned his arm on the couch, next to where yours was and started to absentmindedly play with the hem of your sweater, “Are you upset about something? Did something bad happen?” He asked gently. 

You finally removed the pillow from your face with a frown and shook your head fervently. 

He raised his eyebrows at your reaction. You opened your mouth to speak and closed it again shortly after, frowning at your lack of conviction. That made him narrow his gaze, and a teasing smile drew from his face, “Oh you were saying stuff, weren’t you?”

Your eyes widened in surprise, he was quick to catch on. 

“Did you talk about my pretty eyes like Moony did?” You shook your head in response, “Oh, then… Did you talk about someone else instead? Should I be jealous about it?” You gave him a reproachful look and he laughed, such a melodious laugh, you thought, almost slapping yourself when you were about to open your big mouth and go running all your thoughts to Sirius. 

“So what? You won’t open your mouth in case you say something silly?” You nodded. He laughed again, had his laugh always been so pretty? “But I’ll get bored if you say nothing!” He pouted “How was your morning flight? Made you feel better?” You nodded with a smile, finally sitting back on the couch, grabbing his arm and pulling him up to sit beside you, he complied, and the two of you sat on the couch together, shoulders brushing against the other. Sirius let his head fall, and slid down a little “You’re really not gonna talk?” He asked, turning his head towards you. 

You took a deep breath “Whatever I say may be used against me, so no.” you replied. 

“What if I promise I won’t use it against you? Even if you start talking about something silly like how pretty you think Moony’s left hand is.” 

You laughed at that, Sirius wasn’t wrong there either, Moony’s hands were very strong and dextrous, you recalled a particular day, in potions, when he’d gotten bored as you carefully measured some of the ingredients on the only balance that the table had, and he’d started twirling his wand around with remarkable ease. 

“Oh no, you’re thinking about Moony’s hands now, aren’t you?”He asked when he saw your thoughtful expression. 

“I wasn’t!” You said, a little too fast.

Sirius shook his head, diverted and placed his left hand over yours, “Think of mine instead,” he said casually, as if he didn’t realise he was making your heart beat faster.

Now you smiled “Jealous, are we?” You asked as you started to play with his hand, brushing your fingers over the soft skin of his palm. Sirius’ hands felt much softer than you imagined Remus’ would. He had long, slender fingers, and he didn’t even have the callouses that you get for quidditch, he probably used expensive potions when he lived back at the Blacks. His rings were cold in comparison to his warm skin, it was nice, awfully nice.

“Of Moony?! He isn’t your type.” He responded confidently. 

“How would you even know my type?” 

Sirius smiled at the question as If he was just waiting for you to ask it, he leaned in, so close his beautiful hair brushed against your shoulders, and then he whispered “That’s easy love, it’s because I AM your type.” Then, he placed a soft kiss on the side of your cheek.

You pushed him back playfully and smiled when you saw his shit-eating grin “You keep believing that, all right Puppy?” You said as you pinched one of his cheeks, not that there was much to pinch, the boy had the facial structure of a woodland elf. 

“Hm…” he said as he pushed your hand off his face and intertwined his fingers on yours “That makes it two.” 

You laughed “You’ll keep count?”

“Obviously, gotta make sure my girl pays her debts.” 

My girl, you thought, you were indeed Sirius’ girl now. 

“We’ve got time now, perhaps we can reset the debt?” You asked with a suggestive smile, but Sirius simply shook his head.

“You’re high on painkillers.” 

You pouted, “I’d want to kiss you even if I wasn’t?” you said reproachfully.

Sirius, saw that as an opening, and leaned closer to you “Would you? Tell me about it.” 

“I wanted to kiss you when we didn’t see each other for years, and then when I was back and saw you, all grown up, I wanted to kiss you again, and then yesterday when we actually kissed, I wished we could’ve continued on forever.” Sirius smiled brightly, at least it wasn’t only he who felt that way. But when you saw his reaction you clasped your hand over your mouth “What the fuck did I just say?!” 

Sirius shrugged “The truth.” 

You shook your head “No-no! That was the potion,” you argued.  

Sirius shook his head with a smile “I don’t think so.” 

“Sirius!” 

“You’re madly in love with me, just accept it,” he said cockily.

You grabbed the pillow from earlier and groaned into it in frustration as you leaned over your lap. All you had to do was keep your big mouth shut, but you didn’t, and now Sirius would be able to tease you for the rest of your life. 

Sirius smiled and placed a hand over your shoulder, leaning in a little before he spoke “If it makes you feel better, I feel the exact same way.” 

You stood straight in an instant, disbelief all over your face as you searched for Sirius’ eyes, trying to find an ounce of doubt, of a joke, but… there wasn’t any “But the potion didn’t–“

“No, I had an apple before Moony threw it down my throat,” he said, and shrugged “I just wanted you to know, you’re not the only one who feels that way.” 

You smiled and leaned in towards him, hiding your blush over his shoulder, so many emotions piled up inside you didn’t even know what to do with them. All you knew was that you liked Sirius so much it bothered you. Why was he so damn adorable? How could he be so pretty and manly at the same time? Fucking Sirius Black, he had you, and he had you bad.  

As you leaned into Sirius, savouring his scent, which you could only describe as a mix of leather, firewood and musk, you suddenly started feeling very sleepy. A yawn escaped from your lips, and Sirius looked at you knowingly “Are we already at the point in which you fall asleep? But we were having such a pleasant conversation.” 

“Shut up Puppy!” you said softly.

Sirius smiled, leaning back so you could both get more comfortable “That’s three.” 

Mary, who had gotten out of charms earlier after Tom accidentally burned the sleeve of her robe, was the first person to enter the common room, finding you and Sirius cuddling into each other, both asleep. She smiled, and after casting a silencing charm around the two, so you wouldn’t be awoken, ran upstairs to grab Marlene’s Polaroid. Once she was back down she took a couple of pictures of the two, and a selfie, with her in the middle. After she stood back, snickering at the pictures as she went back upstairs to finally change her burned robes.  Priorities, she thought as she left the camera over Marlene’s bed and went to change. She then wrote a note, kindly asking the laundry elves to repair her robe for her, and placed it over her now neatly bent robe. 

She walked downstairs a little later, and after considering whether to wake you or not for a minute, she decided against it. After all, you both looked quite comfortable, and the nasty fall the two of you had the previous day wasn’t something you could just shrug off easily. Sometimes sleep really was the best medicine. 

A few hours later, when it was finally meal time, and you and Sirius had still not shown up in any class, Remus decided he’d go get you some food at the kitchens. The elves were as kind as ever with him, and once he had enough food for the three wrapped up, he walked up towards the common room. On the way there he bumped into Nina, who smiled at him brightly and waved before approaching him “You’re not going to the Great Hall?” She asked. 

Remus shook his head in response “I’m taking some food up for Sirius and (Y/N), they were feeling a little tattered after the fall.” 

Nina’s expression turned into one of concern “Is she all right?” 

Remus nodded, “She took some painkillers in the morning, she should be feeling a lot better by now. She may even make it to her next class,” he said, “Although, she may not actually want to, since we have Herbology…”

Nina laughed, after spending so much time with you on the rest of the study club, she was more than aware of your quarrel with Herbology, not because you didn’t like plants, but in your own words, because they didn’t like you. “Here, give her this for me, will you?” She asked, pulling a chocolate frog from her pocket and handing it over to Remus. “I told her about them a couple of weeks ago, and she said they seemed interesting, I was going to give it to her after the race.” 

Remus raised one of his eyebrows, he wasn’t sure when you and Nina had gotten so chummy with each other “Sure thing,” he replied and took the Chocolate Frog from her hand and placed it in his robe pocket. 

Nina waved goodbye to him but stopped him by grabbing his arm just before he managed to get too far. “I was forgetting, tell her we will have a book club reunion in the Ravenclaw tower by the end of the month. We’re talking about the romance novel I lent to her recently.” 

“Which romance novel?” Remus asked. 

Nina raised her eyebrows as she heard the question, and then seemed to think about it for a second before responding “It’s not apt for boy’s eyes,” she said with a little smile before waving goodbye to Remus rapidly “Anyway, thanks Remus, see you around.” 

Remus looked at Nina leave with a puzzled expression, he shrugged and continued on his way to meet you and Sirius. Once he was in front of the portrait, he whispered the password and she let him inside.  When he walked in he spotted both you and Sirius, still asleep, basically cuddling each other. He stared at the two for a minute, he found the scene endearing, but he couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy float over his heart. He wasn’t sure if he wanted what the two of you had, if he wanted one of you, or if he’d rather be part of it, but he decided to push those thoughts to the back of his head, after all, it was probably Moony the one that was causing all those weird mood swings. 

“Morning sleepy heads,” he said as he got close enough for the two of you to hear him. Sirius was the first one to wake up, lazily opening one of his eyes and smiling when he saw his friend. 

“Hey Moony, lovely to see your ugly face first thing,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. 

“Haha,” Remus said as he sat on the armchair on the left side. “Good thing I don’t measure my worth on your opinion Pads.”

“What are you talking about? Moony’s got a pretty face,” you mumbled still half asleep. 

Sirius’s eyes widened at your words and Remus laughed in return, “Maybe you just need to improve your taste,” Remus said as he leaned forward and placed the food on the table in front of you, “Brought you two some food.” 

That finally woke you up, your stomach already rumbling at the lack of sustenance. You stood up, feeling a lot better than earlier, head clearer, you no longer felt the urge to tell Sirius how pretty he was, which was fantastic. When you saw the food you smiled “Gosh, thank you Rem, you’re such a sweetheart!” 

“See? That’s how you should greet your friends,” Remus said motioning towards you “You should ask her to teach you some manners.” 

Sirius sighed, and then smiled “Thank you, oh beautiful lord Moony for bringing food over to us!”

Both you and Remus laughed at his silliness. You slid off the sofa and onto the rug and pulled out some of the food Remus had brought, he’d somehow gotten the elves to make him roast beef sandwiches. “Roast beef? That’s brilliant!” You said as you gave your first bite, moaning as the flavour sipped in through your tastebuds. 

Remus also slid from the armchair and grabbed for one of the sandwiches. Sirius was the last one to follow suit. Once he gave a bite, he leaned back, “Didn’t even realise how hungry I was,” he said. “Thanks Moony.” 

Remus hummed in response and then remembered the errand Nina had asked for him, so he pulled out the chocolate frog and handed it over to you. 

“What? No chocolate frog for me?” Sirius complained playfully. 

“No because you’re a twat,” Remus said calmly, Sirius looked at him taken aback. “Besides the chocolate frog’s not from me, it’s from Nina.”

“Who’s Nina?” Sirius asked as he took another bite from his sandwich.

“Member of (Y/N)’s fan club.”

“Nina isn’t a member of my fan club!” You said after you swallowed the bite you were chewing “I mean… I don’t have a fan club!” 

Sirius was the one to laugh now “Yeah sure, tell that to all the people wearing pins with your head on it and holding banners yesterday.” 

Remus nodded “At some point, I even considered the fact that you somehow became more popular than James.” 

You shook your head “You boys, it’s all in your head. I’m not popular, just the shiny new thing everyone’s talking about because I transferred recently.” 

Sirius took a bite from some dried jerky before pointing at you with it “It’s like you don’t want to admit you’re popular.”

“‘Cause I’m not.” 

“But you tick all the boxes,” Sirius retorted “Attentive, nice, talented at something most people are passionate about at school.” 

“Not to mention you’re helping younger students at the study club. And you’re pretty,” Remus said casually. Sirius nodded, in agreement. 

“Well… I–“ you started. 

“Just accept it, darling,” Sirius said, placing an arm over your shoulder. “We’ll be the school’s celebrity couple once word gets out.” 

“Word?” Remus asked with a frown. 

“We’re dating.” Sirius stated “Right love?” 

“I mean… we snogged yesterday, I didn’t know you were so eager to make it official.” 

Remus laughed at that, Merlin, was it fun to see Sirius put in his place by you. “Congratulations?” 

“Well thank you Moony!” Sirius said with a smile. The three of you continued to hang out until you finished your meal. When you were done you decided you were not going to skip more classes and walked alongside the two boys to the Herbology greenhouses.  

On your way, you stopped to take a look at the forest, “The night I came with Lily, to harvest the stuff for potions, I swear I heard howls coming from the forbidden forest.” Sirius and Remus gave a look at each other as if only now realising what Moony was so hell-bent on achieving that night. You didn’t notice, since you were leaning on one of the nearby arches, your back facing them. You breathed in the fresh air “Sometimes I miss being able to walk through the forest, I wish it wasn’t forbidden.” 

Sirius walked in closer to you and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you back on the way, “It’s forbidden for a reason, monsters roam there.” He said. 

You laughed “As if you ever cared about dangerous.” 

“Pads is right,” Remus continued “The forest… It’s not something you should mess with.” 

“So you’re telling me, you’ve NEVER EVER gone into the forest?” You asked in disbelief. 

“We have,” Remus acknowledged, “That’s why we know it’s no place for you.” 

“Because I’m a girl?!” You asked, clenching your jaw as you did. 

“Because you’re a human.” Sirius punctuated. 

You frowned at that, you were so used to being looked down on by boys that you assumed Sirius and Remus were doing the same thing. But they were not, in fact, they had never even tried to. They both thought you were as capable as any man, heck, maybe even more capable than most men. They would never look down on you like some boys back in your old school, the same boys that hadn’t let you in the quidditch team for years because you were a girl, it had taken a teacher’s intervention for you to finally be allowed to join in. James, on the other hand, hadn’t even thought twice before asking you to the tryouts. Hogwarts was different. Your friends were different. 

You sighed “If only I was something else,” you said, a knowing smile growing on your face as you did. Neither of the boys quite understood what you meant, but that was fine. They did not need to know every single detail about you, at least not yet. Especially Sirius, he did not need more material to tease you.

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[sighed-the-snake]

Gun LOADED!

Many people are looking to the bullet catch scene to theorize that Aziraphale is going to fake Crowley's death in the next season, but I think there's another compelling scene from S1 that we should be looking at.

The one with the paintball guns, from S1.

Norm, from management, has a YELLOW cloth tied around his arm, as does the rest of his platoon. Yellow is known to be associated with Aziraphale, and by extension, angels. But I don't think this manager is representing Aziraphale. I think he is meant to represent Crowley.

"I wanted to be a graphics designer," he says. "Design LPs for the Rolling Stones."

Crowley was a graphics designer, of a sort. He made beautiful nebulas. I also think Crowley worked for management and held a high position.

"But the careers teacher said he hadn't heard of them. So I spent 36 years double-checking form BF-18."

The careers teacher is probably God. I get the feeling people in Heaven did not understand or appreciate Crowley's cleverness, didn't understand his work. Crowley was more of an artist than a bureaucracy guy. I wonder if becoming friends with 'Lucifer and the Guys' afforded him some professional freedom, a way to get away from form BF-18, as it were. Maybe Lucifer was his boss and allowed him to do whatever his little heart desired because having a clever subordinate who pulled off such complex work made him look good.

"They couldn't just say, 'Oh, Norman, we're giving you early retirement. Have a watch, bugger off and tend to your marigolds."

The mention of tending to marigolds is interesting here.

The British have something called gardening leave.

From wikipedia, "Garden leave (also known as gardening leave) is the practice whereby an employee leaving a job – having resigned or otherwise had their employment terminated – is instructed to stay away from work during the notice period, while still remaining on the payroll."

It's a sort of limbo period between leaving the company and no longer working for them. You don't go into the office, you're not allowed to contact your former business associates, but you're still getting paid, and you're expected to respond if they call you for assistance. Gardening leave could be a short period of weeks or months to let things calm down before you return because you screwed up, or it could be a prelude to getting fired, or forced into retirement.

Gardening leave sounds an awful lot like what Crowley has on Earth. He was literally sent to a garden to do a job, and he does not return to Hell after. He remains. He lives a posh life with a expense account and a lot of freedom compared to other demons. Furfur remarks on the unfairness of it. Crowley appears to be given assignments once in a while but otherwise I don't think much is expected of him - again, compared to other demons. We've seen the way they're crammed in down there.

(Why he's on gardening leave is a speculation for another day.)

"Well, if they want war," Norm says, knotting his RED necktie around his head, "we're going to give them war. Okay, guys, let's get the bastards."

Clearly, this is when Crowley in Heaven says to himself, "Fuck it, I hate these guys, let's brawl."

And then he turns around and is promptly shot in the heart by the RED team.

He staggers dramatically. He falls. We see the life leave his eyes.

Except it's a trick. One that Norm is not privy to. He thought he was dead as much as everyone else.

But Norm raises his head and looks, bewildered, at the bullet hole in his pocket. He's made a miraculous escape. It mirrors the age-old TV trope of having some hard metal thing in his pocket to deflect the bullet.

In a way, I think this is supposed to represent Crowley's fall from Heaven that he did not see coming, but with S2 and the bullet catch adding context, I think this entire scene holds more meaning.

The thing is, part of writing a good story is including echoes of your theme.

Every single romantic relationship in Good Omens mirrors Crowley and Aziraphale in some way (I'll write more on that later, probably).

Adam and his friends being reflections of the Four Horsemen.

The bookshop being an echo of Eden. The repetition of the "leaving the garden" theme at the end of both seasons, with S1 burning down the bookshop, and S2 with Crowley and Aziraphale leaving it behind.

Twice now, once in each season, there has been a theme of bullets, of getting shot, of miraculously not dying, and no one expecting it.

I'm pretty confident that in S3, Supreme Archangel Aziraphale is going to have his hand forced. He's going to have to execute Crowley for something he has done to meddle with Heaven's plans. And I think Aziraphale is going to have to pull a fast one with very little planning to fake his boyfriend's death.

I can picture it now, with Aziraphale saying something ridiculous to the crowd of witnesses like, "FLAMING SWORD LOADED!" to drop the hint, and the crowd sighs inwardly over what an idiot Aziraphale is, but Crowley looks at him like, "What the fu- oh, we're doing a bullet catch."

[bcolfanfic]

universal sound au•gender-integrated 100bg

house fire

authors note: hi! writing this kind of au is new for me so i hope its alright. massive s/o to ww2 rpf is fine discord server for being so lovely and encouraging <3 bare bones run down: halona is a ball turret gunner, elowyn is a pilot + lesbian who was involved with tatty back on base and has been projecting missing her onto halona :p and cj was a navigator.

cj is *not* dead, while all this is going on she's a train evading via the comet line. which of course crank nor anyone else has a way of knowing.

---

Crank took a breath in before he knocked on the library door, the quiet murmur of conversation coming through from the other side.

When a few seconds went by without any movement he opened the door himself. Brady was seated in the far corner, his back slightly hunched over a stack of papers that sprawled across the table. Halona was pressed shoulder to shoulder next to him, leaning into his space to tell him something he couldn't quite hear- but whatever it was made Brady laugh under his breath. He tilted his head to look at her, eyes soft.

Better Clark sent me than Elowyn, Crank thought to no one.

Brady reached toward Halona’s hair, his fingers ghosting near her face before Crank cleared his throat, loud and pointed. Both of them jolted like they’d been burned.

Turning his head towards him, Brady sucked in his bottom lip.

"Hm?"

"Colonel Clark wants to run us through some escape stuff,"

Halona gathered her things and stood with a soft, Thanks Crank as she brushed past without meeting his eyes. But Brady didn’t move. He just stared at the table in front of him, shoulders tight.

It chipped at his patience.

"Come on, lover boy," Crank muttered, turning back and giving the door frame a pat. "we’ve got more important things to do."

"You're acting like El." Brady finally said as he pushed in his chair and stood, budging past Crank- shoulder pushing against his side hard enough that he had feeling it was intentional.

Crank paused for a beat before he followed him, boots brushing against the dust collecting on the floor. "And how am I doin' that?" He called out after him, edge of his voice biting at Brady's heels.

He could sense him rolling his eyes without seeing his face, tone annoyed. "By acting like the sky's gonna fall if I look at Hallie one way or another."

Crank inhaled, flexing his fingers at his side, knuckles aching to be popped. It was more complicated than that- for Elowyn of all people especially. But the root of the way her eyes narrowed at the two of them made enough sense to him. Johnny had never been good at compartmentalizing. And distractions were a liability, now more than ever.

Halona was a good girl; he'd seen enough of her around CJ to know that. He had more faith in her to not get distracted than he did Brady.

It was only the secondary reason that he felt like he could understand the way Elowyn's face twisted every time Brady's hand lingered on her friend's back- and every time he designated himself the one to swipe at the grime that managed to collect itself on the edges of the band-aid patched over her eye.

It made him miss having someone- miss CJ- so much it made his chest ache.

"There’s a whole lot to do around here without you trippin’ over yourself about her. We’ve got more important things to worry about." He said with a gesture at nothing. "El's right about that much."

"El’s just pissy ‘cause she’s jealous." Brady cut in, words sounding somewhat practiced as his tone dropped. "Halona knows it, and so does everyone else with a brain in their skull."

"Doesn’t mean she’s wrong," Crank mumbled, jaw feeling tight as he pushed open the door to the bunk room. Brady was so close behind him he could feel his breath on his neck.

"Yeah and you'd be singing a real different tune if CJ was here." He said, loud as he pushed past him into the room.

Crank froze where he stood in the doorway, suddenly feeling lightheaded. The girls had known from the beginning, and he had a hunch Croz did too if for no other reason than navigator proximity.

But not anyone else, Brady least of all. When he blinked and found his bearings, there was a proud grin tugging at Johnny's mouth.

"The hell 's that supposed to mean?"

Brady didn't miss a beat, stepping back towards him. "You know what it means, you were screwing her." he said, edging on shouting. "And you," He continued, jabbing his finger almost right into his face "wouldn't be acting like we all oughta' take celibacy vows in here if she showed up tomorrow."

Crank’s face burned, and he could sense everyone's eyes on him even when he didn't find he had the gall to look back. Settling for the safest bet he looked away from Brady at where Elowyn was sitting on the edge of her bunk, gaze flicking between the two of them, impassive. Halona had sat herself down at by her feet, looking up at her with one side of her cheek sucked in. Elowyn leaned down to say something in her ear.

Brady scoffed, expectant, and Crank felt like his strings had been cut.

"You know what- go fuck yourself," he spat as he stepped to him, enough that Brady dropped his finger away. "Or go screw Hallie, don't need my bles-"

Before he could even finish the sentence, Brady lunged, his fist meeting Crank's jaw with a crack.

All the air was sucked out of the room at once and Crank staggered back, blood rushing to his mouth. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, tasting copper as he stumbled to keep his footing. Who he was pretty sure was Bucky came over to haul him up by one arm, barking something at Brady that felt like white noise to his ears.

When he looked at Elowyn again her face had hardened, and it looked like she might say something, but the words never came.

"You think you got everything out of your system there boys?" Colonel Clark said as he walked out from where he'd been in the corner of the room, brows furrowed with his arms crossed over his chest. He clapped a hand on Brady's shoulder and motioned for him to go stand where he'd just come from- as far away from Crank as he was going to get in the small space.

Hearing Elowyn's voice, low and urgent pulled his attention back to her and when he looked over, she had shimmied out of her bunk to sit next to Halona on the floor. Halona looked back at him when he figured that she could sense his staring, lips pressed in a thin line- wet glint in her eye that wasn't bandaged.

Crank swallowed, guilt settling his gut like a stone. If CJ was here, he thought, she would've killed him for making Hallie cry. She'd about knocked a RAF prick on his ass over much less.

Every move he made feeling forced, mechanical, he made himself sit in the empty chair next to Buck at the table, furling and unfurling his fingers around nothing.

"Just this place talking." Buck had taken up saying to all of them.

Crank found himself wishing this place would just shut it if it didn't have a damn thing useful to say, or an MIA navigator to spit out through the fence.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

The Maker’s Angel pt. 2

Din Djarin/Mando x female reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: Sub to Dom Din, spitting, name calling, slapping, aggression/anger, cockwarming, domesticity/breeding kink

Info: Fluffy beginning, smutty ending, lots of Mando’a (translations at the end of post.)

Over the next three months Grogu continued his training, you moved your family of three into a small three bedroom home at the base of the mountain, and you found work in the form of selling produce from my garden behind your home.

Din had a bit of an adjustment period, trying to find a good balance between bounty hunting and home-life, but soon settled into a loose schedule of 2 weeks away on work, 1 week home and repeat.

On this day, Grogu was training at the Temple while you sold vegetables from your roadside stand. Din would be returning from his off-world hunt this afternoon, you and your wrinkly green son were anxiously awaiting his arrival.

After collecting Grogu from the Temple you returned home and set about preparing dinner while Grogu roamed the house and caused his usual mischief. Soon enough you heard the familiar clunk of Din’s boots on the stone porch and you rushed to meet him at the door, Grogu following behind at your heels.

Entering your modest dwelling adorned with various trinkets collected during your travels together, Grogu bounds towards Din, his tiny arms wrapping around his legs in welcome embrace. He burbles something unintelligible, and warmth radiates from him like a sunbeam that dispels any lingering fatigue from his long travel home.

Din!” You wrapped him in a hug, pressing your forehead against his beskar helmet while placing your palm against the engraved Manticore on his armored chest plate; something you’d made a habit of doing every time he returned from his hunts. “we’ve missed you.”

Returning the embrace, he wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, sucking in a deep breath to fill his lungs with your unique scent of flowers and earth —a heady concoction that always seems to calm him.

"Missed you too," He whispered back.

“Been good for mommy?"

He released you gently before picking up Grogu and walking to the couch, sitting down on the sofa with him.

“He’s always good.” You teased, poking Grogu’s little belly to hear him giggle.

“Let’s get you comfy.” You told Din softly.

He’d come to love this part of returning home so he had no qualms about setting Grogu next to him while you slipped off his boots.

He leaned back against the couch's soft fabric as you begin to remove his beskar with practiced ease, you unfasten the secured metal plate across his torso, bringing you one layer closer to the expanse of his muscular stomach beneath his flight suit.

After you removed all his armor and sat it aside in its designated leather basket, you sat on his knee for a moment. Leaning into his chest and kissing the crook of his neck, smelling the salty dried sweat and the scent that was so uniquely him.

A soft moan escapes his lips as your warm breath caresses the soft flesh of his neck, sending shivers down spine after every sweet kiss.

“Helmet now?” You asked, fingers poised to remove it if given permission.

"No, it's fine," He manage to mumble out, "You go ahead and finish preparing dinner."

He took Grogu, placing him on his shoulder and walking to the dinner table and setting him down on the table cloth.

“Here, set the table for us okay?” Din said calmly, gesturing to the silverware and dishes already stacked on the table.

Grogu babbled in response, flattening out his ears in annoyance, though he complied anyway. After all, his dad did ask nicely…

Din stood leaned against the doorway to the kitchen following your every move as you worked. He smiled to himself as he watched you placing three bowls of steaming hot stew on a tray—a hearty blend of root vegetables, wild mushrooms, and tender slices of venison meat simmered slowly in rich broth.

"Smells delicious," He compliment sincerely, "Thank you."

“You’re welcome.” You smiled. “I baked some fresh bread too, it should be done cooling now.”

“Grogu?” Din’s deep voice came through the vocoder as he spoke. “think you can handle the tray here?”

Grogu huffed as he stuck out both of his tiny arms and scrunched his eyes shut. Bringing the tray safely, albeit wobbly, to the center of the table via the Force.

“Good. You’re getting better.” Din praised him, a compassionate tone reserved only for the most special people in his life.

You take a seat across from Din, presenting freshly baked bread on wooden platter covered by crisp white linen. He can't help but observe your movements—each fluid motion an enchanting sight for his tired eyes.

"You know how good you look doing this?" He asked with a grin, slipping off his helmet and sitting it aside. "Cooking... baking... taking care of home?"

“Maybe.” You couldn’t help but blush as you sliced into the fresh loaf of bread.

His eyes happily taking in the sight of your rosy cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment. A soft chuckle escapes his lips before he spoke again.

"It suits you... this domestic side." He murmured teasingly, yet undertones laced within his words hint at respect for your work in and around the home.

His compliment stirred a swirling storm within your core, the blush in your cheeks spreading rapidly as you let your mind wander out of control. Finally you cleared your throat and tried your best to swallow down the lump of desire that had formed in your throat, slicing the loaf of bread for your clan of three to eat with the stew.

"So... how was your day?" He asked casually, "Anything interesting happen? Any troublemakers causing mayhem outside our cozy little nest?"

With a well-practiced motion, Din placed Grogu in his high chair and buckled him securely in place. He then set his bowl on the tray for him, forcibly but gently making Grogu hold a spoon rather than use his hands like he so desperately wanted to.

“My produce stand sold out in less than 2 hours.” You said proudly.

“So I got to come home and read for a bit before going to pick up this little booger.“ You laughed, watching their interaction while you spoke.

“And on our way home from the Temple Grogu and I stopped at the river to splash about a bit, didn’t we buddy?” Grogu nodded happily, a large chunk of venison in his mouth.

A smile tugs at corners of Din’s lips as he lifted his helmet and placed it on the far-side of the table, amusement glinting in his eyes as Grogu chomps down on chunky morsel dangling between fingers stained red from venison juice.

"That does sound like an enjoyable day," He agreed, "But I have a question for you."

He set down his utensils momentarily, leaning forward close enough for your breaths to mingle in temporary shared silence.

"I-I had too much time to think on this last hunt," He paused, searching for words with his lips locked tight against sudden surge of emotion threatening spill forth, "you’re still happy aren’t you? You’d tell me if you weren’t right?"

“Din, of course I’m happy… w-what made you think I wasn’t?” You asked in concerned impatience.

“Well I don’t think you’re unhappy, that’s not what I meant.” He grumbled, sitting back in his chair with his eyebrows furrowed.

“I- well, you…” He let out an annoyed puff of air. “I’m just afraid.”

“Afraid?” You asked in confusion.

“For the first time in a long time, I’m afraid and I don’t like it.” He said quietly. “I feel itchy, my throat hurts, my armor feels too heavy… I- I can’t… I mean-“

He inhaled sharply, punching down his feelings with a beskar fist. His fingers twitched as he contemplated putting his helmet back on, his armor was for physical protection just as much as it was for spiritual and emotional protection. He shook his head, deciding against it so that you could see his face while he spoke about something so important.

“I’m afraid I’ll come home and you won’t be here.” He said softly. “I know… realistically that won’t happen. I know that.”

“But, It’s scary to think that it could happen.”

“Oh C’mere you big softie.” You whispered, standing up and squeezing into his lap to hold him close. Kissing softly until you heard a soft whimper escape Din’s lips…

“You could be in a different galaxy, away for decades, and I would still be here waiting for you.” You assured him quietly as you stood up, caressing his cheek as you did.

“You are… you’re to good.” Squeezing your hand he whispered in a gruff tone. “You’re too perfect. Sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re real.”

You didn’t respond verbally, you just squeezed his hand back in return and scooted your chair around the small round table to be closer to him.

The rest of dinner was punctuated with giggles and stories from your weeks apart, Din sparing the gory details while still making sure to include as much detail as possible, knowing you enjoyed hearing about his work. However, he didn’t know you only requested for his most detailed descriptions just so you could hear him talk alittle longer.

“Go play.” Din said gruffly after cleaning off Grogu’s hands and face at the kitchen sink.

The little one hopped down from the countertop and waddled off to living room, dumping a basket of toys over and digging through them until he found what he was looking for, a game cube. His favorite thing to do, making the colors flash and match up in the correct sequences using his Force abilities. Not only was it fun, it was wonderful practice.

Din shook his head, it was still hard to grasp how something so little held such power. It never failed to impress him, make him proud.

He returned to the dining room table, and sat back in his chair, patting his knee for you to sit on. His arms wrap tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. He squeezed you hard, forcing the air out of your lungs in a crushing hug. He held you like that for a moment before loosening his grip.

He looked down at your lips before leaning in to place a passionate open-mouthed kiss on each side of your neck. Goosebumps covered your arms as he left a wet trail up the column of his throat to lock your lips in a searing kiss.

It soon turned frenzied, a dance of tongues tangling together in a display of raw desire from long denied release.

"Cyarika.” A strangled moan escapes his throat, "I... I want you."

Shhh,” You broke the kiss, hand firm on his chest. “patience Din… wait for Grogu to go to bed.” You giggled at his eagerness.

Groaning softly, he reluctantly relented to your demands—raw yearning tempered by cool rationality as he pulled himself back to reality.

"Alright..." He murmur begrudgingly, "But once Grogu's asleep... nothing will hold me back."

“Good.” You leaned in, whispering seductively before nibbling on his ear.

You rose from his lap, gathering the dirty dishes from the table and placing them carefully in the sink. Purposefully walking with a sway to your hips, making your ass jiggle with every stride.

"I'll finish these." He mumbled softly, placing a comforting hand on your waist. "You should put Grogu down for bed... show him who the boss is around here."

Alright. I’ll be back.” You promised, picking up Grogu and taking him to his room to tuck him into bed with his favorite stuffed animals.

Once he was sound asleep you crept out of his bedroom, shutting the door behind you with a soft click.

You all but ran back to the kitchen to find Din who had nearly finished washing the dishes. As he turned around, hearing your steps, you reached behind your back and pulled at the string that held your bandeau top on. Untying the bow that kept it in place and allowing it to fall to the ground.

Startled by your sudden brazen display he nearly dropped the pot in hand; heart racing as his eyes devour your chest now exposed to his hungry gaze—nipples erect and pert, begging for attention.

"Cyare" He croaked, voice strained with desire, "You... you're gonna kill me."

Without waiting another moment, he let the pot clank on the countertop, not bothering to dry his wet hands before reaching out to grasp your waist, pulling you flush against his body. His hardened member pressing urgently against your lower abdomen. His lips crash hungrily against yours, tongue tangling in lustful need barely suppressed by mere clothing separating you from complete surrender to those primal urges that clawed at your insides.

“Sit on the couch. Hurry, c’mon baby I’m feeling needy.” You softly instructed him, following behind him as he rushed to obey you.

“Get your cock out for me baby.” You whispered, trying to seductively strip your pants and underwear as well.

Swiftly following suit, his hands moving dexterously on his pants; lowering them to his ankles and kicking them off impatiently along with his boxers revealing his thick length standing proudly awaiting your touch.

"Here..." He murmur hoarsely, "Take it... do whatever you want."

“Oh I plan on it.” You teased, licking and suckling slowly on the swollen tip of his cock.

His breath hitches in a sharp intake as your soft lips envelop the engorged tip—warm wetness swallowing him whole causing a strike of mind-numbing pleasure to surge through his cock like lightning striking the earth of Mandalore.

“Mesh'la�� kar'taylir darasuum.” His voice husky and affectionate as he threaded his fingers through your hair.

You let your hands wander the expanse of his hairy thighs, pressing your nose into the curls at the base of his dick to breathe in his musky scent. The way he sounds… the way his lips move, the grit in his voice when he speaks Mando’a to you, makes you practically feral.

You couldn’t help yourself, immediately releasing his cock with a drooly ‘pop’ and standing up, straddling his legs and hovering over his waiting girth.

“Din,” You pleaded, “I can’t wait. I’ve been wet since the second you stepped foot into the house.”

An involuntary groan escapes his lips as he watched you position yourself over him; your pussy just out of reach, taunting him.

His rough hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as desire grows unbearable, "Fuck me... please." He whined, trying to force you down onto his throbbing length.

“Y-yes.” Sliding your soaked pussy down his cock, releasing a high pitched whine at the burning stretch of his dick plunging deep into your cunt.

Pain and pleasure intertwine into a maelstrom of sensations— clenched teeth to stifle your moans; reverberating swallowed pleas echoing from his throat with urgency as you slowly impale yourself on him.

"M-maker.” He gasped out through clenched jaw, "Fuck... fuck me like I'm your bitch."

“You are my bitch.” You growled.

Your hand shooting out to grip his throat tightly and force his head back against the couch cushions.

“Open your mouth.” You whispered.

His eyes widen as your grip tightens, constricting the airflow to his brain addling his senses further.

"Y-Yes..." He managed to choke out between ragged breaths, "Whatever you want."

“Stick out your tongue out for me now baby.”You said sweetly. “There, that’s a good boy.”

You pushed your hips flush to crotch, grinding in circles on his thickness, feeling it throbbing in response to each pulsing clench of your pussy. Halting your movement completely, simply holding his cock captive and rendering him practically pussy drunk with need.

You leaned down to take his tongue between your lips, sucking on it and slurping loudly, feeling his hot breath fanning across your face lips as you did so. His hips involuntary bucking up into you at the sensation of being trapped inside your pussy and at your every whim.

Suddenly you pulled back from his face, making sure to squeeze his jaw to keep it pried open. Spitting harshly into his mouth before snapping his mouth shut with a click of his teeth.

Blinded by desire, he can't resist the storm surging through his veins wildfire-like, spreading and burning its way through him.

"Ni'duraa" He groaned deep and punctuated in his chest, "I love it.”

Arching his hips upwards in anticipation of climax fast approaching, closing in closer each powerful thrust buried him deep inside your pussy. His body trembling with needful want.

“Yeah?” Taunting him you released the hold on his neck to lace your hands together behind his head, using your thumbs to tip his chin up and expose his throat.

Ravaging his jaw and throat with long messy licks. Alternating between love bites and sucking harshly. Finally, after much whining on his part you relented as the sensation of your cunt rhythmically squeezing him as you cockwarmed him, paired with the brutality of your attention to his neck became too much for him.

You slowly resumed your movements on his cock, lightly rocking back and forth, just enough to make the tip brush against that sweet spot deep inside your wet heat. Sliding your hand down between your bodies to find your swollen and needy clit.

A moan escapes his throat as he watches you use him for your own pleasure.

"Y-Yes... Gods fucking yes," His voice cracking with need.

Both of his large hands grip your waist tightly as you tortured him with slow rhythmic thrusts—each deliberate movement driving him closer and closer to orgasm, his eyes welling up with tears of frustration as you refused to allow him to guide your hips at the pace he wanted.

“Get your fucking hands off me and put them behind you back.” You demanded, enjoying the sudden shock in his eyes.

“You don’t need your hands for this okay pretty boy?” You soothed his confusion of your un-characteristic harshness in a sweeter tone.

“Now, as long as you’re good… I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” You kissed his forehead, nose, lips, then his chin.

“So just sit back and let me do all the work, while I bounce on your cock…” You moaned accidentally, showing how easily he could break my character if he wanted too. “and make you cum over, and over, and over.”

“I’m gonna breed myself on your big fat dick okay?” You whined as his body immediately reacted to your words with a shudder, his eyes fluttering closed momentarily.

“Wait! No no no baby no d-don’t. Just w-wait let me.” He pleaded once his love drunk brain truly registered the meaning of your words; eyes opened wide with urgency.

“No, no c’mon sweet girl let me, let me make love to you. Please? Please just let me love on you while I fill you up, yeah?” He begged.

Lost in the haze of desire, his hands had a mind of their own, refusing to obediently follow your previous instruction—placing themselves behind back to rest idly on your hips.

His head rolls back against couch cushion, eyes closing tightly as he surrendered to your wishes.

“Yaihadla? Gods yes... that sounds perfect."

“Oh does it?” You cooed down at his pitiful face. “is that what you want? You want me to fuck myself on your cock until you get me good a pregnant?”

A gravely moan escapes his throat, hands gripping tightly to keep hold on reality slipping away as you continued your merciless tease.

"Yes!" He choked out through grit teeth, "Just... just fuck me for real already."

Your words, your continued denial of giving into his needs only fueled the firestorm in his veins—a primal urge clawing at the surface of his sanity.

“Say please for me.” You taunted. “You have manners, use them.”

Din felt a blush rise in his cheeks, submission tinged with embarrassment adding extra layer of vulnerability he hated to admit that he loved.

"P-Please..." He whimpered out desperately, "Fuck me... please fuck me now."

“Good boy,” You praised him, removing your fingers from your clit to lace both hands into his sweaty hair.

Immediately you bounced harder, faster… rolling your hips with every down stroke, getting a teasing bit of friction on your neglected clit.

He whined, pulling one of your hardened nipples into his mouth and suckling greedily.

“I love it when you let me use you like you’re just a little fuck toy.” You moaned, trying to rile him up.

With that said you bit down on the Adam’s apple of his throat and clapped one hand over his mouth to muffle the sound of him crying out in pain, his cock twitching proving he loved this display of dominance as much as you did.

"Gods-“ He managed to grunt, voice muffled by your hand, "you brat!"

Spasms ripple through his abdomen as his muscles tightened. He was close, and you couldn’t have that… not just yet.

“You call that an insult?” You laughed.

“You can do better than that can’t you? Hmm? Or are you too pussy-drunk from being my goddamn dildo to think?”

You rear back to slap him across the face hard, a sickening whack echoed through the room.

“There, that better? Give you some motivation to do better?”

Stunned by sudden blow, stars dance in his vision briefly before his focus snaps back to the present moment, anger burning brightly within his eyes.

"What the-?" He growled through clenched teeth, "You want a fucking insult? I’ll give it to you then you little bitch!"

With a primal roar, his muscular arms wrap around your waist and lift you off the ground; practically dragging you until he pinned you against wall, your dangling feet barely brushing the cool wood of the living room floor.

You smiled widely, a feral excitement in your glassy eyes; finally he was angry, finally he’d be as rough as you had been begging him to be for months now. You let out a low growling moan as if a wild animal was clawing it’s way out of your throat.

Intensity escalates rapidly his lustful anger threatening to consume all in its path.

"Fuck you..." He snarled viciously, "Fuck this... fuck those stupid bounties for keeping me away from you.”

With brute strength borne from years spent fighting for survival against odds insurmountable, he thrusted deep into your cunt.

“Vaii did ner cyare riduurok slanar?” He growled, eyebrows furrowed.

His already harsh thrusts became brutal plunges; your body slamming into wall with each powerful stroke meant to possess and claim.

“Ohhhhhh.” Your flesh pimples up In goosebumps.

Each thrust of his cock driving so far into your cunt that his tip slammed against my cervix painfully. Though it was worth every teeth gritting second all for that delicious push and pull of velvety skin against your raw and need clit.

“That’s it. This is what I wanted.” You praised, eyes filling with tears.

Breaths coming in ragged gasps, sweat coating his forehead in a light sheen.

"Y-Yeah... goddamn it..." He groaned lowly, "You fucking love this don't you? You want me to fucking claim you as mine?"

Teeth clash together in a violent snap; fury and desire merge into primal symphony of skin on skin, shared breath and unbidden pleasure.

“We’ve been married for almost a year!” You snapped as he dug his fingertips into the soft flesh of your ass. “And I’ve finally pushed you over the edge. Finally got you to be rough, to be mean.”

You arched your back with a high pitched squeal, bracing yourself with your hands gripping your forearms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he ravaged you.

“Of course I fucking love it you idiot!” You panted.

Though blinded by passion, he can't help but feel a pang of guilt in his chest.

"Gods... you fucking insane?" He managed to choke out hoarsely, "This... this is what you needed? This is what you’ve been begging for?”

His eyes lock onto yours filled with love and desire combined into single focus piercing through yours with a burning intensity.

“I’m finally getting what I want, either shut up or fuck me senseless god damnit!” Your voice although demanding, had hidden notes of pleading.

You were so close to orgasm you could practically taste it.

“Gods you’re so deep,” You groaned, pushing your hips forward to suck his length in farther. “C’mon fill me up, breed me like I know you want to.”

Din couldn’t help but let out a strangled laugh through gritted teeth.

"Gods..." He breathed, wrapping his arms around you tightly to press your bodies together, "You really have no idea how fucking right you are."

His forehead drops to rest on your shoulder as his lungs squeezed out a reedy whine. With a final surge of energy, he buries himself deeply between your folds, holding you still as he pumped you full of his hot cum. Each spurt brought out a shameless whimper from his full lips, his face now tucked in the crook of your neck.

“Udesiir, atiniir.” He mumbled against your soft skin.

As you felt him cum, warm and sticky ropes of wet coating your insides you cried out loudly. Eyebrows furrowed with your mouth open in a high-pitched whine, turning into babbled words.

“That’s it, that’s just what I needed. Feels so good, shit- I love it, I love you.”

He starts up his thrusts again, this time slow and sensual with the sounds of your messy cum coated cunt. He takes his time to fuck you through your orgasm, your body shakes uncontrollably as warm wet slick gushes from your pussy and leaks down my thighs.

"Gods... you're such a brat..." He managed to speak between ragged gasps for breath.

“Don’t act like you didn’t love every second of that.” You chided him, kissing his jaw gently.

“Bet you wish you’d given in a long time ago now don’t you? Hmm?” You teased.

With a loud bellowing laugh echoing through the room he agreed with you.

"Fuck off, you know damn well how much I enjoyed it." He retorted with a slight grin sneaking onto his lips despite best efforts.

"Next time... we do it in bed." Gently, his hands tenderly reach out and help you slide down from wall still trembling with aftermath, whispering softly into your ear, nipping lightly on the lobe before returning to his usual serious demeanor.

“Don’t expect that kind of rough treatment often,” He said sternly. “Although I don’t have any complaints about it; You’re precious to me, I want to take care of you, make love to you, not ravage you like an animal all the time.”

“You can make love to me nice and slow, all gentle like you love to tomorrow.” You kissed him softly, lovingly like you normally did.

A chuckle escapes his throat, unable to suppress the wide grin creeping onto his lips again.

Mando’a to English (in order of appearance I think)

Cyare- beloved

Mesh’la- beautiful

Cyarika- darling, sweetheart

‘Mesh’la kar'taylir darasuum.’- ‘Beautiful, I will hold you in my heart forever.’

Ni'duraa- disgusting/gross

‘Yaihadla?’- ‘pregnant?’

‘Vaii did ner cyare riduurok* slanar?’- ‘Where did my sweet love go?’

*Riduurok: used only for spouses

‘Udesiir, atiniir.’- ‘Relax, just take it.’

TagList:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch@cherrylooney@star611

@tahliac11 @exquisit?corpse @jeldog @arzua10

@bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay

@aliciaasky@naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn

@illiethefairy @slut-4-ani @offthethirlwall

@slutforhayden @ausskywalker @angelsadmired

@slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie

@starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @no1klet @lethargic

@allhailbuckybarnes @shadowhuntyi

@bobtheturmpetman29 @mortalheartache

@fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot

@joshfutturmansrighthand @chaoticantihero

@vadersslut @luvvfromme

[thistransient]

"quiet places you can get to without a private vehicle" sounds like a perfect idea for Taipei recs! Do you have any tips for a tourist navigating their way from Taipei towards the south without speaking any Chinese, armed only with a smile and a desire for tasty foods? (I am hoping for some easy hikes while based in Chiayi & Miaoli, weather permitting - never know if I packed proper clothing, aaahhh~) (anon #1 here, thank you once again, have a great day ^^)

Some years ago I hitchhiked around the south of Taiwan with pretty beginner Mandarin, didn't know that "你吃了嗎 / have you eaten?" was an alternate form of greeting, and found myself taken out to lunch by an old guy who spoke zero English when I said no! If you look like a friendly foreigner, you will get around just fine (a European friend of mine in a similar condition visited last year and managed to eat plenty of things by just pointing, which I have also found to be a successful tactic while abroad). In addition to being the place where hand gestures work well, many night markets have multilingual signage (as do a lot of restaurants in Taipei). Just remember to bring cash, a lot of places still don't take card. Fruit and veg shops are a fun place to explore. Buffets (自助餐) are popular in Taiwan, and a good way to try a lot of different things without having to read a menu. Sometimes they're pay by weight, sometimes the cashier eyeballs your tray and makes up a price.

I've only been to Fenqihu (奮起湖) near Chiayi but there were indeed some sedate and beautiful forest trails there. Miaoli- another unexplored territory (along with Yunlin County) for me, I wish you best of luck. "Proper clothing" depends on what season you're going, but it's good to have rain gear, and layers are always practical (sometimes one must decide if the heat or the bugs are a greater evil).

As for Taipei quiet place recs:

Waziwei Nature Reserve (挖子尾自然生態保留區) - I have never seen a lot of people out here. Someone told me once it used to be a popular place to dump bodies, I've only ever seen fish bones. There's a cool mangrove swamp and a bike trail (might be a bit long to walk all the way out). I usually stop and get some food at Bali Old Street (crowded on the weekends, tolerable on a weekday afternoon).

Guandu Rice Fields (the linkable google maps location is actually 關渡平原大排步道) - Beautiful rice fields when they're green, or when flooded and you get the reflection of the sky and mountains. I also bike here, but I think you can reasonably walk from Beitou Station if it's not too hot.

Shezi Daotou Park 社子島 島頭公園 - Another place to bike to, although I think there's a bus. You get a lovely view of the mountains from the east side, there's a bird watching wetland area if you're into that. If you keep going on the west you'll get, well, all the way down to Xindian before the trail ends.

Guandu Temple 關渡宮 - the temple is not quiet on the holidays, but I like Guandu as an area in general, you can take a bus up to the Taipei National University of the Arts campus and look around (there's a museum, wasn't open last time I went), there's the Guandu Nature Park, more beautiful riverside trails, you can even bike all the way to Tamsui (淡水) if you feel so inclined (also not quiet on the weekends, but the beach can be tolerable), or back down to the city (and all the way to Nangang and beyond if you're industrious).

Not Just Library 不只是圖書館 - if you've had enough of the mozzies outdoors, this specially designed library in an old Japanese era bathhouse is pretty cool, located in the Songshan Creative Park. There's a fee to get in but I think unlimited time after that

Air Force Martyrs Cemetery 空軍烈士公墓 - this is not exactly what I'm recommending but it's got a google maps location, and if you look carefully at the map there's a sort of unnamed cemetery around it which I've enjoyed exploring. You can walk from Xindian Station, Bitan 碧潭 is also a hectic place on the weekend but I've noticed Taiwanese people tend to be superstitious about cemeteries and don't go in there without formal business.

Fu De Keng Public Cemetery (富德公墓辦公室) is also a neat cemetery, but more difficult to get to. Even walking a couple kilometers up Chongde Street 崇德街 from Liuzhangli Station can be fun tho, you can see the location from the movie A Sun (陽光普照).

Yuanshan Archaeological Site 圓山文化遺跡 - I don't know why this place is always empty (except when I went on a walking tour lecture with a bunch of senior citizens the other day, and finally learned it used to be a zoo), there are a lot of cool abandoned traditional buildings (locked up, if you're really industrious you could probably sneak in but even from the outside it's very picturesque). You can walk from Yuanshan Station.

Lin An Tai Historical House and Museum 林安泰古厝 - less abandoned, quiet factor depends on the day of the week but I wouldn't say I've ever seen it truly packed. Beautiful traditional estate grounds and garden you can walk around in, free entry. Also across the street from Xinsheng Park, the rose garden, and indoor botanical gardens. Ten minute walk from the Yuanshan Archaeological Site.

I was going to wrap it up here lest I go on indefinitely but I feel like I should throw in one more indoor place for mosquito-escape:

Beitou Refuse Incineration Plant Observation Deck 北投焚化爐景觀台- I've been here once and it was empty except for one other guy, I'm not sure if it's normally like that but I'm assuming it's not the MOST popular place ever. It's easiest to bike there, just go along the river, go up the flood wall ramp, and there's a Youbike kiosk on the other side. Free entry! Cool views! Silence! (There's a revolving restaurant on the floor above but outrageously expensive.)

[kylobith]

Little Town Tails

Chapter 5: The First Butterflies

Summary: Halsin and Tav are given the chance to know each other a little bit better.

Ship/Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav

Trope: Modern AU, Meet-cute, Little countryside town, Cosy

Word count: 5,647

Read it on Ao3 here

Listen to the dedicated playlist on Spotify here

Emerald Grove goes through its first week as smoothly as a cog with the winds in its sails. Halsin welcomes a variety of animals in his consultation room for reasons as diverse as the species he has seen. From a routine checkup to heavier surgeries, every animal receives care and devotion in his practice, either from him or Karlach, who never skips on the chance to give the pets a good cuddle before they leave. A few of them need to remain under observation overnight, especially for older patients whose state requires closer monitoring. Before going home at the end of each shift, the tiefling makes sure to spend some quality time with the animals, giving them enough cuddles and kisses to last a lifetime, not hesitating to stay for an extra unpaid hour. Luckily, Halsin has found himself so grateful to have such a dedicated assistant that he does not hesitate to pay her for what they affectionately name ‘cuddle time’.

If anything, Karlach has only improved in her work. Fewer mistakes have been made when logging in patient information or appointments, and Halsin trusts her enough to make new patient files for those who desire to make him their pets’ designated veterinarian. She is a fast learner, constantly working on welcoming anxious owners in the best way possible, offering treats to the pets and sweets to the humans, always slipping one or two extra to the tiny ones.

Astarion’s work is just as qualitative. Halsin cleared the guest room in his own home so the vampire could sew in peace with a proper workspace and in a way that the noise will not disturb or frighten the animals. As promised, he enjoys quite a lot of freedom when choosing fabrics and patterns, and his first shirts were already given away to freshly operated pets in recovery. As far as they are aware, no problems with the shirts have been reported and, in fact, many owners and their children seemed to have felt more in control of the situation by being offered a choice in silly and cute patterns for the recovery shirts.

On Friday morning, everybody is busy with their own task at Emerald Grove. The faint whirring of the sewing machine can be heard through the ceiling, but not so much that it becomes a bother or that it startles you. Every so often, the floorboards crack when Astarion moves around the room to fetch new fabric, patterns or his equipment. Downstairs, playing Led Zeppelin through the speakers, Karlach hums along to the tunes while managing incoming emails or putting away the delivered kibble Halsin ordered on Wednesday.

In his office, Halsin reads the files of his afternoon patients once their previous veterinarians have transferred them over to him. While reading the medical history of a rat struggling with chronic severe itching to see what treatments have already been attempted, he hears his work phone ping. Startled by the sound, he chugs the cold tea he has forgotten, so focused he has been on the record. He grabs the telephone and unlocks it, seeing that a text message has come in.

‘Good morning Doctor Silverbough, would it be possible to make a medical report for Beaky’s injury? The lawyer from the APO advised me to get one to add more weight to the lawsuit against Mr Bongle. I hope that’s not too much trouble! Thank you in advance.’

Halsin smiles from ear to ear as he realises that it is from Tav. Without thinking, he puts the phone down and opens a new document on his computer to type in the medical report. He adds all the information he can cram into it, even seemingly minor details to be safe, and joins the X-rays taken of Beaky’s paw before and after surgery to the file. Once all is done, he takes his phone again to answer her.

‘Good morning Miss Ashguard, this is no problem at all, I am glad that you are asking and I am just as happy to provide for Beaky’s well-being. To which email address should I send it? Doctor Silverbough.’

Swiping his thumb down, he consults missed notifications and skips some of them. But right as he is about to open an important email, the phone vibrates. Tav answered already.

‘Would it be possible to print out two copies? I don’t have a printer and it seems that the lawyer is a bit old-fashioned. I will be in Heawick today, I can just pick them up.’

Feeling an odd tingle in his fingertips, Halsin smiles at the screen. On the computer, he sets out to print three copies of the file to be safe, then types in an answer.

‘They will be waiting for you in my office, then. Come by at any time. I can also put them aside for another day if you do not find the time to come, should that happen. Doctor Silverbough.’

Then, he hears the little doorbell and puts his phone in his pocket. Time for his duty.

Later on, when all morning consultations are done and the printed medical reports are sorted on his desk, Halsin peeks outside the window. For once, it is quite sunny and warm outside, even for an early spring day. He decides to take his lunch break outside. As he puts his jacket over his scrubs, he lets Karlach know that she can close the practice for half an hour, and that she and Astarion can use the spare key should they wish to fetch something to eat in town. Then, carrying his old cotton sandwich bag, he goes out.

The small park has never looked prettier than on this fine day. As he sits on a sunlit bench, fondly watching the ducks quacking around in the pond, he enjoys his lunch on his own. His phones are silenced for this half hour, his only music is the singing of the birds over his head, although the occasional car disrupts the otherwise harmonious setting. Even when he is done eating, he rests his elbows on the backrest and tilts his head back, welcoming the warmth kissing his traits.

The rustle of plastic bags pulls him out of his reverie. He cracks an eye open and sees Melly, the baker’s mother, dressed in her infamous duck cardigan and carrying her groceries. Out of politeness, Halsin stands up and smiles at the elderly lady.

‘Good afternoon, Melly,’ he greets her warmly. ‘Isn’t it nice to see the sun again after so much rain?’

‘Halsin! What a surprise!’ the woman beams. ‘Oh, quite pleasant, indeed! How has your week been, dear? Everything alright at the practice?’

He invites her to sit down on the bench next to him, gracefully taking the bags from her and holding her hand so she can lower herself onto the small seat. What an unpractical design. They set the bags between them and begin to chat merrily. He tells her about employing Astarion for pet shirts, and Melly is nothing but intrigued to hear about it. He omits the vampire’s legal issues, of course, not wishing to breach confidentiality in the way that the lawyer seems to have done to help his cases. 

‘Now this sounds like quite the week, dear!’ she says while rummaging through one of the bags. She takes out a box of chocolate biscuits and opens it, before pointing it at him. ‘Would you like to share?’

‘Oh, no, thank you Melly. I am trying to watch out. The renovations and the opening completely threw off my eating habits. I want to get back to healthy eating.’

‘Oh, dearie, the occasional snack has never hurt anybody. You should treat yourself from time to time. Still no?’

Halsin chuckles and hesitates for a second before reaching into the box to catch a biscuit. As she does so too, she clinks her cookie against his, as though she is toasting. They laugh and savour the treat in silence, watching the ducks and their bring new twigs towards the little floating nesting box that the town hall had built for them.

‘There should be ducklings about soon, I believe,’ he says enthusiastically.

‘You really do love ducks, Halsin, don’t you?’

There is no hint of judgment in Melly’s voice. Merely affection, as always. Ever since he moved to Heawick, she has given him unconditional support, despite her having no particular reason to do so. At first, it was curiosity that brought her out of the bakery to inquire about the works done to what was once a woodworker’s shop. After a lovely chat during which he invited her in for tea and she brought some pastries, she seemed to have taken a liking to him and never hesitated to watch him work from the bakery and bring him food if she noticed that he had not taken a break in a long time.

Despite his advanced age, Melly is the coddling grandmother he never had. Whenever he sees her, while feeling the urge to be courteous and mannered, he cannot help but feel some childlike joy ignite within him. If anything, she is one of the reasons why he has felt like home from the moment he set foot in Heawick.

‘Mh?’

Feeling the old lady nudge him playfully, he realises that he was lost in thought. He jolts and chuckles.

‘Oh, sorry. Yes, I love ducks. And bears. They are my absolute favourites.’

‘That is good to know. And that explains the little duck on your reception counter.’

Halsin laughs again and sees that Melly is trying to stand up. He rises to his feet and helps her up, then picks up her groceries from the bench.

‘Let me carry them for you,’ he offers.

‘Oh, no, no, son, don’t you bother. You have to go back to work! Besides, I’m stronger than you think for my age.’

She takes the bags from him and pretends to be lifting weights just to make him smile.

‘Well, it seems that you are happy with your week, Halsin, it warms my heart to see it,’ she chimes with a pinch of his cheek. I’ve already heard from Arfer that he was most satisfied with your methods and Clawdia was quite jolly afterwards herself!’

‘That is all that matters to me.’

‘In this case, you should head back. I will see bring you and your two colleagues some treats on Monday. Ta-ta!’

‘Bye, Melly!’

While he waves at her, he takes a step away and feels that his foot is crushing another under its weight and his shoulder knocks into someone’s chest. As the other person yelps and nearly loses balance, he quickly catches them. Embarrassment dusts his cheeks with rosy hues, which only deepen when his gaze meets a pair of beautiful turquoise eyes. His breath catches in his throat instantly. His heart races. If not already holding her by the arms, his palms would grow clammy.

‘Miss Ashguard!’ he blurts out breathlessly. ‘Oh, I apologise, I did not look where I was going. Did I hurt you?’

Tav’s face illuminates in a heartbeat as she recognises him.

‘Oh, hi, Doctor Silverbough! I wasn’t looking either, I’m sorry. But no, no, you didn’t hurt me. Are you alright?’

‘Oh, yes, yes.’

They stare into each other’s eyes for a split second, before clearing their throats and letting go of one another. Halsin scratches the back of his neck.

‘How is Beaky?’

‘He’s doing great! Recovering like a champ, I must say. I’m really glad that you took care of him. You did great.’

‘Thank you. And it was a pleasure.’

Tav tucks a lock of her fiery hair behind her pointy ear and points towards the path she is coming from.

‘Were you heading back to the practice?’

‘Indeed.’

‘May I walk with you?’

‘Of course! I have the files ready on my desk, you can already take them with you.’

‘Brilliant!’

As they walk out of the park side by side, Tav admires the town with her hands buried in her pockets.

‘Beaky’s already going outdoors again, by the way,’ she says, ‘I hope that it’s alright for his recovery. He just couldn’t stay put anymore if I left him indoors.’

‘Was it this bad?’ he inquires with an amused laugh, seizing the opportunity to take in her beauty, although he refuses to admit it, even to himself.

‘Oh, horrible! He kept horsing around, breaking stuff because he just didn’t feel comfortable inside. He almost knocked down my dad’s ashes. Now that would’ve been hell to clean from the rug.’

Halsin snaps his head around in concern. He observes her expression, which remains oddly calm after mentioning her father in such a nonchalant way.

‘I am sorry for your loss.’

‘Mh? Oh. That’s okay. I’m used to his absence by now, I suppose. Besides, he’d rather have me laugh about it than cry whenever I talk about him.’ ‘Were you two close?’

‘When I was younger we were,’ she says, burying her hands in her pockets. ‘But towards the end, we were constantly bickering about my career. He just didn’t approve of it. Not even a revelation in his last hours or anything. He hated it until the end.’

They reach the practice and enter. Karlach’s eyes illuminate with a blend of excitement and mischief as she recognises Tav and notices the fleeting glance she gives Halsin. The two women wave at each other and Halsin shows her to his office. On the desk is a stack of three coloured files of the same size. He picks them up and hands them over to her.

‘Beaky’s medical report. I made you three copies to be safe.’

‘Thank you so much,’ she chimes, taking them and briefly skimming the report. ‘That should be of great help.’

Halsin offers him a warm grin. Oddly, he is not eager for her to leave just yet. They may not have talked for long, but he feels the same tingles in his fingertips as he did when she texted him earlier this morning. What in the hells are they?

As she smiles bashfully at him and turns towards the door, his heart races and his mind nearly short-circuits. He wants to speak with her just a bit longer. Has he been a good host? Probably not. Why would he want to ask her to stay? Foolish. Stupid.

‘Would you like to stay for a cup of tea?’ he blurts out before he can stop himself, causing her to halt and peer over her shoulder at him. He suddenly wishes that he could disappear on the spot. Melt into a puddle. Deflate like a balloon and fly out the window. Catch fire. Anything. Why does he feel so giddy when she is around? He does not know her, neither she does him.

When she blinks while considering his offer, he wants to tell her that he is joking but he knows that he is not. He clears his throat and decides to play it smoothly.

‘I also have coffee and water, if that is more to your taste.’

Tav shrugs and grins. Such a beautiful sight.

‘Tea sounds heavenly.’

‘Right. Um. Have a seat,’ he says, pulling out his desk chair, the most comfortable he has ever sat on. ‘What kind? I can make you mint tea with honey.’

‘Like when I felt dizzy?’ she recollects, tilting her head in the most adorable way. ‘I would love that. It was delicious.’

Halsin nods and disappears into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Just like the first time he met Tav, he takes a moment to take deep breaths to calm his maddening heart. He cannot believe that he is losing his composure like a teenager experiencing puppy love. He is supposed to be professional and serious. This practice has been on his mind for nearly twenty years and he has finally fulfilled his dream. Is he going to throw it all away from the start by developing a crush on a pet’s owner? The first one to have ever walked in his practice, on top of that?

He cannot let this happen. Whatever this is, he must rationalise the situation. First of all, he knows next to nothing about her. Second, she is obviously younger than him, she would be better off with people her age. Third, he is being immature and he should perhaps take Karlach’s advice and sign up on one of these dating apps or sign up to a whittling or wildlife photography club in his free time. He would be meeting other people there. Other women. More appropriate relationship could occur there.

There. His heart is finally quiet. But the boiling kettle is not, yet he nearly misses its signal that the water is ready. He hastily prepares two cups of tea and brings them over to his office.

He finds Tav reading the report while gently swinging from side to side on his desk chair. When she hears his footsteps, she looks up and closes the files, putting them away for safety, should she accidentally spill her cup.

‘Thank you!’

Halsin smiles and sits in front of her on the stool that originally stood in his guestroom but swapped for the chair so Astarion can work comfortably. The clinking of her spoon against her cup as she stirs the honey while holding the branch of mint soothes him. His office often feels much too lonely, and finally having someone visit him there that is not Karlach or Astarion feels rather special to him.

‘So,’ he starts, trying to break the awkward silence, ‘you mentioned earlier that your father disapproved of your career. What awful path is it that you chose for him to be so against it?’

Tav chuckles and takes a first sip of the tea, grimacing as she burns her tongue.

‘I compose radio and commercial jingles.’

‘That is quite interesting, actually! Anything I might have heard?’

‘Probably not, unless you listen to the radio. The commercials aren’t broadcast widely, they’re mostly local.’

‘Do you like what you do, then?’

She shrugs and dares to take another sip, which finally comes easier to her. Just like him, she wraps her hands around the cup to savour its heat and takes a second to smell the mouth-watering blend of minty freshness and the heartwarming sweetness of the honey.

‘I do, but I wish I could aim higher. Ah, at least my schedule gives me enough free time to discover the region. Sometimes I can go for months without commissions, so I do need to find temporary jobs to survive. At least my dad taught me how to be a good moneysaver.’

‘That is important. I hope you will manage to sign bigger contracts, eventually.’

‘So do I,’ she grins. ‘Anyway. May I ask you when you settled down in Heawick? I can tell you’re not from here from your accent. It’s not too obvious, but there’s a hint of one. Are you from… the east?’

Halsin laughs softly and the tingles resume. Godsdammit. How dare she pay attention to the way he speaks?

‘I am! I arrived about six months ago. I bought the house upstairs and I am renting the office space for the practice. I find it somewhat silly that they came separately, but it is working so far. But I am hoping to buy it by next year, provided that all works well.’

‘Ah, yes, I remember the two being separate.’

‘How did you know?’

Tav drinks half of her cup, sighing contentedly as the drink flows down her throat.

‘I actually made an offer for the house. I made it to the final list, but it seems that your case was stronger than mine.’

He widens his eyes in surprise. The unreasonable voice in his brain whispers to him that it is fate bringing them together, but its resisting rival reminds him of the list he made in his mind earlier. He does not know her. She is younger. Dating apps.

Hiding his reaction as best he can, he takes a sip and 

‘I apologise, had I known…’

‘Oh, no, not at all! I’m glad you got it. Everyone’s so happy that the practice opened, you know? That was the talk in Combury for the whole week!’

Blushing at the idea that the idea he has been cultivating for years brought such joy to the community he has been meaning to serve and help. He cannot deny that the sole knowledge of it is bringing him to the highest highs. Within the first week, he has already achieved what he assumed would take months to establish. Yet trust is easily given within and across these towns, it seems. It is much different from where he comes from.

There, despite towns being as small and close to one another, few people reached such levels of altruism and compassion as he has experienced in Heawick. Where he grew up, too many members within the same circles turned on one another over the pettiest quibbles. That was precisely why his parents preferred to take him and retire into a tightly-knit community, closer to nature.

His love for animals and the environment stems from this peculiar upbringing. Reverting to a simpler way of life, Halsin was raised surrounded by the same familiar faces who took turns in caring for him whenever something came in the way. Whenever his mother or father became ill, there was always somebody jumping in to help with chores or with feeding him. If anybody encountered a problem in their life, the community strove to tend to them as best they could until the person finally jumped over the obstacle.

Meditation in the forest was commonplace as well, and he quickly learnt to care for the animals that inhabited it. Despite being homeschooled and isolated from the rest of civilisation, he often snuck out to study in libraries and research things that he had never heard about when among his folks.

Indeed, not everything about it was as idyllic as it may sound. If a member decided to leave and pursue other interests or another lifestyle, they were shunned and became the object of much gossip. If the person had children, then they could no longer come in contact with the children of the community, no matter how well they got along. Many ties were severed abruptly in his youth as more parents realised how this concept that, while coming from good intentions, had turned rotten and corrupt.

As soon as he was old enough to gain independence, Halsin fought to leave the community. While ‘civilisation’ in itself never particularly attracted him, he believed that there would be something in-between this seemingly carefree group and the bustling, polluted city. And he found it in little towns such as Heawick. Ever since he left his family, never to speak to them again, he stuck to smaller populations, which always brought him comfort from their numbers alone.

Adapting was decidedly difficult at first, but once he found a way to fend for himself with the support of charities and organisations meant to help people like him, living in the semi-civilised world began to feel natural. He received a proper education to fill in the gaps in his general and specialised knowledge, and he was eventually able to study to become a veterinarian. And it was during his studies already that the idea of opening his own practice to connect people and serve them sprouted.

Now, it has blossomed. And what a blossom it is!

Halsin finishes his tea and leans against the table beside him, gazing at Tav.

‘Why Combury, then? Since you wanted to settle in Heawick, why did you not look for other houses?’

‘The house on Birch Lane wasn’t on sale yet, so there weren’t any other options in Heawick itself. And… I don’t know, I really wanted to live by a forest, so Combury was the other logical choice. Now I’m renting my house, which is on the forest’s edge like yours, and I own a patch of field behind it because of Beaky.’

‘Does your landlord agree about Beaky living on the property?’

‘I didn’t tell him. That’s why I try to keep Beaky on the field as much as possible. He’s happier there anyway.’

He tilts his head in disapproval.

‘You should tell him. It is a bad idea to keep it from him. I would not want you to be in trouble because of your kindness towards Beaky. Perhaps you can compromise on certain things. Just… Do not leave them in the dark.’

‘I know, I will. I just don’t know what to tell him,’ she admits, drinking the rest of her cup. She then glances at her wristwatch and stands up. ‘I’m afraid I must go, I’ve got an appointment shortly.’

While Halsin stands up and gathers the cups, she grabs the copies of the medical report and slips them inside her bag. He escorts her back to the reception, even forgetting to take the empty teacups at all, so eager is he to spend every second with her. When they find themselves near Karlach’s desk, unknowingly piquing her curiosity again, Tav rummages through her bag.

‘How much do I owe you for the report and the copies?’

The question takes him aback. Perhaps he is supposed to charge her even a small fee for making him work on Beaky’s case again, but honestly, he does not have the heart to it. After all, if this lawsuit can help with granting her compensation for the strife caused by Mr Bongle while showing that the court cares about wild animals as much as it does pets, then he can only be glad to have participated.

‘Nothing at all,’ he says warmly. ‘It was my pleasure.’

‘Doctor Silverbough, you’ve worked on this file and used precious ink and paper so I could have everything. Please, tell me how much I owe you. It’s only fair.’

Halsin gently places his hands around hers as she pulls her wallet out of the back. Unbeknownst to him, Tav is a blushing mess when he does it. It only lasts a split second, yet it is enough to turn her assurance into bashfulness and to nearly create an explosion as Karlach suppresses the urge to scream ‘I told you so’. 

‘I insist. Beaky’s well-being and his safety are worth much more to me than money. I assure you.’

Tav sighs, but a smirk curves her rosy lips. She takes out a note equivalent to a hundred gold coins and slips it into the tip jar on Karlach’s desk. Both the veterinarian and his assistant stare with wide eyes as she does so, not having anticipated her gesture, let alone the amount that she put in.

Before he can react at all, Tav takes his hand and gives it a firm shake, adding to his sheepishness.

‘Thank you again for your help, Doctor Silverbough.’

Halsin sighs as though he has been holding his breath for a thousand years. Still shaken up by her donation, his handshake is not as firm as he means it to be, and he wonders whether she would take it as an insult. Probably not. The people in his region would, though.

‘Thank you for… Well. The donation. Thank you.’

Tav chuckles and shakes his hand again, and this time, he does not disappoint.

‘Have a good week-end, Doctor Silverbough.’

‘You too, Miss Ashguard.’

‘Goodbye, Miss Cliffgate!’

Karlach, quite speechless from the scene she has just witnessed, waves at her with a smile. She cannot help but boil inside as she suppresses the flaming hot urge to gossip about Halsin’s crush on Tav with Astarion.

Once Tav has left, Halsin is still facing the door, quite dumbfounded. He then hears a hardly dissimulated squeal as Karlach stomps her feet on the floor and drums her fingers on her desk.

‘Doc, do I get to tell you “I told you so” or not yet?’

He peers over his shoulder at her, raising an eyebrow.

‘Sorry?’

‘You have the ninth-layer-of-the-hells-hots for Miss Ashguard! Look at you, Doc! What was that about? Her touching your hand? Shaking it twice?!’

‘You are reading too much into things, Karlach.’

Halsin attempted to distract himself from the allegation by taking a distracted look at his agenda and checking the time. The tiefling elbows him playfully and pokes her own nose.

‘I’ve got a flair for romance, doc. Who do you think played matchmaker with Astarion? He’s married now!’

‘Miss Ashguard is the owner of an animal who happened to be treated and operated here. Our relations are purely professional. I have a code of honour.’

‘But you’re dying to breach it. I can sense it.’

Growing frustrated by the situation more than by Karlach, he rolls his eyes and prepares the consultation room for the rat with recurring skin rashes. The rest of the days goes by as smoothly as the rest of the week, and there comes the time for the team to close up shop for the week-end. Astarion joins them, carrying his sewing machine and a bundle of pet shirts of all sizes he gives to Halsin. Once he has taken a brief look and approved of them, he brings them over to the small storage room and sorts them into several boxes according to species and size.

While the vampire fetches the rest of his personal equipment and brings them downstairs, Karlach squeals as she gazes out the glass door. Halsin frowns and comes by her side to observe what is going on. Coming out of an indigo car is a man about ten years younger than him with brown and grey hair combed back yet maintaining a carefully tousled appearance. His purple shirt is unbuttoned at the top, revealing some of his chest hair and a peculiar symbol tattooed into his skin. In his hand wearing a simple golden band, he carries a thick bouquet of red roses.

Astarion, hating when he is left out of gossip, comes to look with them and lets out a groan.

‘Ugh, he should know by now that I hate flowers. What a silly gift!’

Halsin rolls his eyes with a smile and unlocks the door as the man approaches. He holds out his hand to him.

‘Hello, you must be Mr Dekarios-Ancúnin!’

Gale chuckles and shakes his hand firmly, acknowledging Karlach with a bright grin and a wink.

‘Just Dekarios, actually. I’m afraid that only one of us was allowed to change his name, and Astarion insisted,’ he responds with his usual charming demeanour. ‘You must be Doctor Silverbough.’

‘Halsin is fine. Please, come on in.’

‘Then Gale is fine too! Thank you.’

Upon seeing Astarion, who is forcing a smile despite hating the fact that he is being given flowers, Gale beams with pride and affection unlike anything Halsin has ever witnessed before.

‘Hello, my love!’ he chimes, going towards his husband to kiss him. ‘This is for you, for completing your first week without being fired!’

He laughs merrily, before slipping his hand into the vampire’s.

‘Jokes aside, I’m so extraordinarily proud of you, Astarion. Really. So I thought that maybe we could celebrate it tonight?’

‘Mh. Thanks,’ Astarion replies curtly at first. Thankfully, his grimace does not last as he notices the sincerity in his husband’s gaze. He returns the kiss and nuzzles the other man’s nose. ‘Fine.’

‘Great! I already have something planned.’

‘Ugh, this better be a hot bath with candles and wine.’

Gale simply winks, yet this is enough for Astarion to smile giddily. The teacher picks up the sewing equipment to help his husband carry it to the car. Everybody goes their own way, the couple to their car, Karlach to her motorcycle, and Halsin upstairs to his home.

After this busy day, Halsin takes a warm shower and only puts some underwear on before dragging his feet, clad in bear-shaped slippers, towards the couch. He lies down on it and covers himself with his favourite plaid, before switching the television on. He zaps from channel to channel until he finds a documentary on the ocean’s wildlife. He makes himself comfortable and takes a moment to finally relax after work, doing something he truly loves.

That is, until his work phone pings.

He sighs and picks it up from the coffee table to check the notification. His face instantly illuminates as he sees Tav’s name on the screen.

‘Thank you again for the reports! You’re truly an angel! I forgot to ask you something earlier, I was wondering if you’d accept to be Beaky’s designated vet? Like people have their own GP?’

Without the need to think, his thumbs type his answer.

‘It was my pleasure, Miss Ashguard. I usually do not do this, but Beaky was an exemplary patient, so why not? I will create the patient file over the week-end, so you have nothing to worry about. Enjoy your evening. Doctor Silverbough.’

He runs a hand across his face and places the phone beside him on the blanket to divert his attention back to the documentary, which is now showing footage of a shoal of fish swimming in a set pattern. Nothing short of mesmerising.

When the ringtone plays again, he instantly check his screen with an impressive reflex.

‘Thank you! Apparently, that’s the only thing I’m able to say to you, haha! Enjoy your week-end, doctor, see you next week!’

Next week? Huh. Beaky’s appointment is not before two weeks. Ah, for now, it does not matter. He will see her then. If he gets to see her in the week to come, he will be just as glad.

The prospect alone releases butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

Taglist: @emmanuellececchi @cakenpiewhyohmy @reignydeys

[cryptid-called-ash]

Well… I did it… I made the Jeff x Michael au

I’m calling it Pit Guard au, takes place post-pizza sim but pre-pizzaplex

Basic premise is Michael offers to help Jeff fix up and run the old pizzeria, and Jeff isn’t about to turn down the funds and guidance. But everything comes with a price.

TW for heavy scaring

Michael design for the au, Jeff coming soon

Design and characterization explanation under cut

Michael survives the pizza sim fire unintentionally, I’m not explaining how in detail so pick your own poison

Inherited Afton robotics, which he turned into a state-of-the-art tech company. he also manages to reacquire Fazbear entertainment, but that’s way later.

Looks like he’s in his early thirties, is actually in his late fifties.

Almost completely healed from the whole ennard thing, but it permanently altered his body. He has dozens of scars from where the endo tore its way out of his skin.

The scar over his left eye is from Foxy’s hook, when he’d been doing maintenance on a breaker boxes and foxy caught him unawares. He practically sprinted back to the office and only finished fixing the breaker after 6am.

The one across his face is from FTfoxy knocking him out on night 3 of sister location. Made the springlock scene on night 4 much more stressful bc he’s actively bleeding and we all know you can’t get springlocks wet.

As per the running joke, the scooper dumped a shit ton of remnant into his emptied out body so he wouldn’t die. Which he technically didn’t but he’s definitely not human anymore.

Eyes glow; hair is completely white; blood is discoloured; skin is very pale and semi translucent; had fangs; and, oh yeah, needs to consume living blood to maintain the insane amount of remnant inside of him (the remnant won’t kill him if he doesn’t drink, but the sheer amount of pain he’d be in isn’t worth not drinking). So yeah, Michael is basically a remnant vampire instead of a remnant zombie now.

You can probably see what the price for his help is. Cue gay hijinks.

Very flirty and mildly unhinged personality, uses humour and flirting to mask his pretty serious depression and ptsd.

Death/remnant related memory issues. He remembers major events (Evan’s death, bite of 87, Lizzy’s death, etc) but everything else before his death is hazy at best. So he doesn’t actually recognize Oswald’s dad/freddy mask bully (who I’m calling Simon) at all. But Simon absolutely recognizes Michael and, oh boy, does it give him a heart attack to drop Oz off at Jeff’s only to run smack into his old friend who he hasn’t seen since 1985.

Speaking of Oswald, he ends up seeing Michael and Jeff as weird uncles. Both are surprisingly good with kids.

Michael can relate to Oz’s situation with pit trap (with pittrap being his actual father and all) and is more than happy to comfort Oz when needed.

Is a little vain and does a lot to maintain his appearance (daily workouts, extensive hair care, 8-step skincare routine, etc), being a literal decaying zombie really fucked him up.

Is 4am, gonna go sleep now 👍

[uwu-co-in]

What majors 'Attack on Titan'characters would have in college AU (part 2):

Source: My Majors

Word count: 1.1k

(part one)

11. Sasha: Crisis/Emergency/Disaster Management

• Sasha was first admitted to a college with the major Culinary Science, along with her boyfriend, Niccolo, but left the course after a month

• I want to eat food not study it was what she retorted to everyone, but in reality, she just felt she would not be contributing enough to the community

• As the major took out for a lot of field work, she signs up for all, and even joined internships from the first year itself, regarding the same

• A procrastinator; crams on the night of the exam, while Niccolo is cooking her assortment of dishes and gets super groggy on examination mornings :')

12. Connie: Graphic Design

• His mother was extremely proud of her son getting into the college; so much that she had told every other person passing on the streets how Connie will be a genius, in whatever tech stuff he is doing

• Opted for a college far away from home, because he wanted to experience life to the fullest by living alone, and learning to fend for himself

• Teaches basic computer science to two kids, and works as a freelancer digital artist, along with juggling his classes

• Loves his subject and puts effort behind it quite regularly, but call him for a party he'd be there with two extra beer bottles, ridiculously shimmery clothes and a party popper!

13. Jean: Architecture

• Look me in the eye and tell me that Jean doesn't look like a dreamy arch student, always carrying his sketchbook along with him and sitting down to draw the building or monument designs that seem to intrigue him

• Was in eighth grade, when Mikasa told him that the way he draws the buildings are very clean. Boom, and he wants to draw them for the rest of his life

• For some reason, his mother did not approve of his subject choice, until one day she found a few building designs doodled in placards sprawled over his desk and reconsidered her opinion

• Loves a good party once in a while, but really wants to work behind the subject so sometimes, calls a rain check

14. Erwin: Intelligence

• Ever since Erwin can remember, he wanted to be in the army, fighting for his motherland. That was what he had wanted all his life, and he had every quality to enlist himself for it until he sustained incurable injuries on his right arm trying to save an elderly couple from an accident

• Intelligence major was a piece of cake for Erwin, for he was a natural leader, acing all his classes with ease. He loves spending time in the library a lot, and his favourite book is rumoured to be 'Crime and Punishment' by Fyodor Dostoevsky

• He is equally loved and lusted by the women in his university, but apart from occasional casual flings, he does not want to engage in a relationship because it 'fuddles his mind'

• His room is speck clean and he likes working out regularly and eating healthy (cooks his own food and is distrustful of the canteen meals)

15. Zeke: Law

• In school, Zeke was reprimanded a lot because according to his teachers, he was 'always quipped with a brash follow-up question, with no regards to authority'. In college, he encashed it by enrolling himself in a law major programme

• He is a big believer in practical knowledge and quickly networked to find internship opportunities to practice and observe lawyers alongside his regular studies

• With an absentee father, he worked two side jobs as a cashier at Starbucks and a private tutor

• He participated a lot in debate competitions and moot courts to enhance his critical thinking and analytical skills

16. Marco: Film Studies

• Always a sweet and dreamy guy, Marco chose film studies because he passionately believes films influence people a lot

• Ask him, and he will name the most obscure movies just to seem like a film student with a mysterious air, while in reality, his favourite movie is Mean Girls

• Likes people watching and tries to do all his college work sitting in a cafe, with 'coffee, coffee, coffee!'

• Has tried making short films, and although the themes and plots have been pretty good, he is yet to get real recognition for them

17. Porco: Aviation

• Ever the cocky guy, Porco took aviation because it made him feel like he was on top of the world

• Scored average in theory but was very skilled in practical knowledge

• His professors have often recommended he enlist for the air force, but he doesn't want to; he wants a low-key life without stress (staning a king who knows the importance of mental health!)

• Flirts A LOT with his fellow classmates, and 10/10 uses his charm to get his homework and assignments done

18. Pieck: Inorganic Chemistry

• Pieck's main goal in life is to see more women in STEM, and thus, her major

• Has excellent mathematical and statistical skills and uses them efficiently to excel

• Straight A student, has the special lucky glasses that she wears while taking her exams

• Very humble and soft-spoken, she is often forced to help others even when she doesn't really want to

19. Gabi: Marketing Research

• Gabi originally wanted to become a footballer and had once run away from home because she felt her parents did not approve of her career choice

• While football is still her passion, she has a newfound love for marketing

• Immense persuasive skills and great essays make her one of the toppers of her batch

• Feels stressed trying to juggle studies and football, but she loves both and can't live life with one without the other

20. Falco: Art History Criticism and Conservation

• Falco loved visiting art museums as a kid, and this love of his followed well into adulthood

• His favourite artist is Monet, and his core memory of college is their field trip to the Sistine Chapel

• Loves art, any art in any form, and appreciates every art he sees; is passionate about learning more and has inculcated the skill of finding beauty in everything

• His dorm room is filled with paintings from roadside artisans that he fell in love with, and on Sundays, he tries painting himself (and fails miserably, but is the happiest)

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

Flame-Bright | Part 2

After a literal age..........I finally wrote it. AND LET ME TELL U WHAT. It's not proofread, that's for sure! Genre: BFFS to ???? in this part, sports statistician!part time model!seungcheol x fem!fashion designer!reader Check out pt 1 for warnings, all still apply, DEFINITELY a menty b is described pretty generously and it is almost exactly how I experience bad bad bad mental health days. no smut in this part, there miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight be some *closed door* or implied smut in the next (and final) part. Also sorry if the end feels rushed....................................I have no good excuse just kind of wanted to write the next part because this part was SO angsty and hard for me to write. ALSO healthy levels of angst in this one, reader is DUMB AF sorry if that's frustrating, etc etc etc peace and love and sorry for all the warnings I probably forgot. A/N: This is also lowkey a love letter for @forcheol bc she fuels my fire for this cutie boy. breathe with me hani it's all gonna be ok

“I have a surprise for you!” Seungcheol practically sings as he crosses the threshold into your apartment. 

“Are you finally going to let me sell your extra kidney on the black market?” you ask, your gaze laser-focused on the fabric in front of you as you make slow, painstaking cuts. “Because if not, I’m not interested.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “Firstly, we’ve been over this. I don’t have an extra kidney. I have the two I was born with.”

“But you only need one,” you remind him. “So the other one is superfluous.”

He shakes his head. “Secondly, it’s not that, but I’m pretty sure you’ll like this almost as much.”

“Will it make me a lot of money?” you say with a final snip through the thick velvet.

“Is that all you care about?” he asks you as you look up at him. He’s half-smiling with an eyebrow raised, and you can tell he’s fighting back a bigger grin. 

“Duh,” you say. “No, but seriously. What’s the surprise?”

“I’m moving!” he announces excitedly. 

Your jaw drops, along with your heart. “Wait, like…away?” you ask him.

“No, silly,” he reassures. “It’s a ten-minute walk in your direction from my old place.”

“So you’re moving…closer to me?” you ask, doing the mental math.

“Only about five minutes’ walk from here,” he says proudly. “And you know what’s the best part?”

His eyes are a little too eager. “Are you about to ask me to do something?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

His smile falters a little bit, and you roll your eyes. “I knew it! What do you want from me?”

“Well, it’s something you’d like…something you’re good at…” he says sheepishly.

“So why are you hesitating?”

“I need you to feng shui the place,” Seungcheol blurts. “Um… decorate. So that it doesn’t turn into a mojo dojo casa house.”

“That’s it? I’d love to do that. I don’t know why you were so scared to ask.”

He smiles grimly. “Well, you’ll understand when we get there.”

******

“Hey, uh….you in there?” Seungcheol asks you, his worried eyes taking in your dropped jaw and the way your feet are absolutely cemented to the sidewalk. 

“You bought this house?” you manage to choke out, finally tearing your eyes away from the structure to look at Seungcheol.

You knew this place – of course you did. How many times had you passed by to admire it, secretly daydreaming about planting camellia bushes by the front door and adding a swing to its old wraparound porch? How many unspoken wishes had you made at its front gate as you’d stared into its old boarded-up windows?

But this house – the one you’d fallen in love with despite its ugliness – was no longer boarded up. You’d wondered when it had been fixed up, supposing that in your business with work, you hadn’t had the time to take walks around the neighborhood. But now the porch is clean, the weeds have been pulled, new grass has been put down in the front yard, and the entire face of the house has been re-painted. It looks like a new home, with its pretty white brick and freshly-shingled brown roof, perfect for a new owner.

“When?” you ask. “When did you do this?”

“Oh, months ago,” Seungcheol admits meekly.

“And you waited to tell me – why?” you ask him, in a too-loud voice that makes a lady passing by stare at you in alarm as she hurries her small dog along.

“I’m sorry, I just…I kind of wanted it to be a surprise?” You give him your best “be serious” look, and he caves. “Okay, well, the truth is that I was toying with buying it for literally years, and the price dropped about six months ago.”

You realize what he’s getting at. “Oh,” you say softly. “About the time I got promoted.”

“And you were so busy,” Seungcheol says in a pleading tone. “I barely saw you regardless. And I knew you’d feel guilty if you knew I was fixing up the place and it was so close by and you couldn’t help. I was trying to prevent you from adding one more thing to your plate.”

You bite your lip. “Well, I can’t say I’m happy about it, but I guess I understand.” And if you’re being honest with yourself, you also know he’s right. You would’ve felt guilty. You feel guilty now, looking at the house that Seungcheol built without you, knowing you took no part in the remaking of this place that was so dear to you. Well, I suppose I’ll have to change that, you think to yourself.

“Do you want to see the inside?” Seungcheol suggests, seeming to guess the bittersweetness you’re feeling.

“Yes,” you say, following him up the walkway into the home.

It’s beautiful inside – but it’s empty. You try to distract yourself from your mixed emotions by putting your designer hat on. “So what do you want it to look like?” you ask Seungcheol, who is still watching you like he’s scared you’ll start yelling at him.

“I want it to look like I live here,” he answers simply. “You know me really well, so I kind of figured I’d trust you to do your thing.”

“I’m not an interior decorator,” you remind him. “But I’ll do my best. What’s your budget?”

At this, Seungcheol blushes. “Don’t worry about it.”

You level a sharp gaze at him. “Just how rich are you?”

“Do I have to answer that?” he begs.

“Yes,” you snap.

“Why are you mad?” he asks you.

“Because you kept such a massively huge secret from me – and now it seems like there’s another thing or two I still have to find out about you.” You sigh. “You’re my best friend, Seungcheol. You know everything there is to know about me. I thought it was the same for you.”

You know before Seungcheol even says anything that you crossed some invisible line -- his eyes flash with a fire you've seen in him when discussing your exes, but only rarely does he look at you like this. “Oh yeah?” he says quietly, but there’s a hard edge to his voice. “When was I supposed to bring it up to you, huh? When you were averaging 3 hours of sleep a night trying to learn your new role? When you were sick for three weeks after your first big project because you’d worked yourself to the bone, and I had to come check on you every day to make sure you hadn’t died in your sleep? When would it have been a good time to tell you?” He pauses at the sight of your face, at the hurt and shock there, and takes a deep breath and lets it out. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s just … I didn’t know. I didn’t know how to break the news.”

“I never asked,” you whisper. “It’s not all your fault. I – I never ask you what’s going on in your life. I’m a really selfish friend.” You bite your tongue to keep the tears that you can feel burning in your eyes from overflowing. It hurts to realize how much you rely on him, and how little he feels like he can do the same.

“No,” Seungcheol denies, his voice distressed. “No, listen. It’s not like that, either. It is the same for me. I always want to tell you when something happens in my life, but I just worry about complicating things for you. I know you always have a lot going on. There’s more moving parts to your life than there is to mine.” He takes a step closer to you. “And we’re not friends because you ask me about my day. We’re friends because we like being around each other.”

You can quite literally feel yourself dancing around what you wish you could say to Choi Seungcheol. Your heart is in your throat, and you have to take a deep breath before mustering up a smile — though it feels completely false. “You’re right,” you breathe. “But I still want to know. It might be a lot to handle but you have to give me the choice, Seungcheol.” 

And you don’t say it — you can’t— but you think: it’s worth it if it’s you. And you can’t help but let one tear spill over.

Seungcheol makes a move toward you, but you hold your hand out to stop him. “I’m fine,” you reassure him, brushing the tear away and clearing your throat. “I just feel bad that I haven’t been as solid for you as you have for me.”

“I’m worried you’re now feeling like I regret taking care of you,” Seungcheol warns, his hands outstretched as though to pull you in. “I don’t mean to complain.”

You manage a watery chuckle. “I don’t feel like you’re complaining.”

“You know that’s how it goes, though, right?” he presses, seemingly unable to move on until he’s sure you understand. “Sometimes we’re both solid, sometimes I carry you, sometimes you carry me, sometimes we have to carry each other. That’s just life.”

You purse your lips at him. “Sounds like someone got an A in therapy.”

“At least I go to therapy.” 

“Touché,” you reply drily, once again turning your gaze to the large entryway. “Well, I’ll need a tour if I’m gonna help you decorate this place.”

“Come with me,” Seungcheol offers, tilting his head at the arched doorframe leading to a wide open room. 

“This is gonna be the kitchen,” Seungcheol informs you. “But I have no appliances or anything yet. But I want it to be a good entertaining space.”

“You’re planning on having people over?” you ask, trying to hide how shocked and delighted you are. One of the reasons you know you’re close with Seungcheol is that you’re one of the few friends he invites over.

“Of course, now that I’ve got the space,” he replies, a little miffed. “I didn’t have people over before because my apartment was small.” He gestures to the middle of the room. “I want a big table here. One where everyone can fit.”

The way he says it — so earnest, so sincere. A place for everyone. Everyone fits. You smile. “I love that.”

Seungcheol beams, and your knees go wobbly before you can prevent it. 

***

The tour was, overall, a success. Regardless of your initial surprise, the thought that Seungcheol was going to own the home you’d loved for so long felt right. You were buzzing with ideas — some less comfortable than others. For some reason, the idea of designing Seungcheol’s master bedroom raised the hair on your neck.

You’re just about to leave when you notice a door in the entryway that you didn’t explore. “Where does that go?” you ask, approaching it to open it, but Seungcheol steps in front of it smoothly, cutting you off.

He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t worry about it,” he says with a smile, staring you down with unshakable confidence.

“Well, now I’m worried about it. What are you hiding?” you say, trying to skirt around Seungcheol. He very easily wraps an arm around your waist and hoists you around so that he’s between you and the door again, and though the sudden contact is alarming, you glare at him over your shoulder. 

“Did you kill someone and hide the body in there?” you ask.

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “No. That’s the best you could come up with?”

“Is there some weird culty crap in there, then? Are you planning on running a compound?”

“I actually don’t think I have the charisma necessary to be a cult leader,” he reasons. “I hate that you’ve thought that much about it,” you grumble, “but I kind of agree.”

“Hey!” he says, indignant. “You’re not supposed to bring up my lack of rizz.”

“You don’t have cult leader rizz, Seungcheol. That’s a compliment.” You shake your head. “This is a stupid conversation, and you still haven’t told me what’s in there!”

“That’s true,” he agrees, smiling sunnily down at you.

“I thought we said no more secrets,” you say, meeting his gaze.

“It’s not a secret. It’s a surprise,” he rationalizes, and you roll your eyes.

“So I’ll see it eventually?”

“Most definitely you will,” he assures. “Also, why were your first two guesses murder and cults? What kind of person do you think I am?”

“I hyperfixated on a true crime podcast last week,” you explain.

“Ah. Well, why don’t you hyperfixate on happier things? How busy are you today? Can we start shopping?”

He sounds so eager that you can’t bring yourself to shut him down, but the mysterious door stays in your head all the way up until your first post-breakup date with Jinho.

It is a bit of a rocky start. Jinho is an hour and a half late picking you up — but at least he texted beforehand, a definite improvement for how it’d been when you’d dated. “I’m so sorry,” he says, breathlessly, as he sweeps you into the cab. “I had a lot to do and it kind of got away from me.”

“It’s okay,” you say softly, tugging uncomfortably at the itchy black dress with its constricting high neck that had been hiding in the back of your closet since Jinho got it for you. He’d once complained that you never wore it, and you figured it would comfort him to see you making an effort to connect again, too.

The cab ride is pleasant enough, with Jinho talking about his work and his day. “How was your day?” he asks. 

“Well, actually,” you tell him, “my friend Seungcheol bought that old house I’ve loved forever.”

“The one five minutes from your apartment?” Jinho asks. He’d been familiar with the place. “The one that was kind of a dump?”

“It had character,” you say, a little affronted. “And yes, that one. He renovated it and asked me to help him decorate.”

“Does he need art?” Jinho asks interestedly.

You consider for a minute. For some reason, the idea of Seungcheol meeting Jinho feels like crossing a line. “He might,” you allow. “I’ll ask him.”

“I’ll get him a friends’ discount,” Jinho says eagerly. “I actually need more clients these days.”

You nod, grinning at his enthusiasm and pulling out your phone to text Seungcheol and ask if he needs art. After you’re finished sending the text, you pull at your collar again, noticing that you’re sweating a little in the hot air from the car heaters, exacerbating the itch.

Jinho takes your hand in his. “I’m nervous too,” he says quietly.

And even though he misinterpreted your discomfort for nerves, it’s a little endearing to hear him admit that you’re affecting him. So you don’t withdraw your hand.

***

Seungcheol was at work with you the next day. You’d been too busy with the release of the line, so you hadn’t been able to be there for the promotional photos he’d taken for the company website. But a fashion magazine had wanted to use your brand for an upcoming editorial, and Minghao thought it would be good to have a familiar face in the room for Seungcheol, who the magazine had specifically requested to work with.

His first look was a ribbed black turtleneck with white trim beneath a distressed leather jacket. He looked amazing -- of course he did -- but you were expecting him to. What you were not expecting was how attractive Seungcheol became as he effortlessly shifted from your sweet and generous and warm best friend into a haughty, confident, smirking model. One second, Seungcheol was enthusing about how soft the turtleneck was, and the next, he was smoldering like a forgotten fire into the camera.

The photographer was obsessed with him. It was almost bothersome how often she approached him just to tweak his pose in the most insignificant way possible. You were almost positive it was just so she could let her hands flutter over the fine structure of his face and the perfect planes of his shape. It annoyed you even more that Seungcheol didn’t even seem to notice. He (infuriatingly) shot her a grateful smile after every correction.

You try to keep it out of your voice as you greet him at the end of the shoot. “You did amazing,” you say, because it’s the only thing you can trust to sound genuine about the experience. 

“Thanks,” Seungcheol says easily. He’d finished the shoot in a stunning black denim set beaded with white crystal flames up the arms. Anyone else in this outfit might look a little crazy, but not him. He made it look like something anyone could wear. “These clothes are really comfy!” Seungcheol says, interrupting your errant thoughts (about him).

“That’s the idea,” you say with a smile. “Are you all tired out?”

“Why? Did you want to do something?”

You make a guilty face at his cheerful tone. “Meet with Jinho about the art?”

To his credit, Seungcheol only lets his smile slip a fraction before he agrees. You don’t need to ask him why he might not particularly want to meet with Jinho — as far as Seungcheol is concerned, the jury is still out in regards to your prodigal ex come home. He’d responded to the message you’d sent asking if Jinho could help him with a clipped “sure”, which honestly was enough to let you know that the three of you collaborating on this project was going to be weird at best and wildly uncomfortable at worst.

But still, Seungcheol travels to your apartment with you to await Jinho — even standing up as he arrives and greets you with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. “Hey,” he says breathlessly. “Did you wait long?”

“Not at all,” you say reassuringly, looking between them. You don’t know why, but it almost makes you laugh to watch them size each other up. Jinho’s eyes widen just slightly as they take in Seungcheol’s impressive build, and he can’t suppress a swallow as Seungcheol looks him over with an appraising sort of gaze. Although a couple inches shorter than Jinho, Seungcheol’s presence is far more impactful. 

You can almost hear the tension siphon out of the room as Seungcheol finally breaks a smile. “Hi,” he says, holding out his hand. “I’m Seungcheol.”

“I’m Jinho,” he replies, taking the offered hand and wincing a little as Seungcheol squeezes. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you?” Seungcheol says, shooting you a look.

“Well, I heard you renovated that house,” Jinho says hurriedly, finally taking a seat at the table. 

“I did,” Seungcheol says, easing himself into a chair. “And it’s looking pretty bare at the moment.”

“Well, I hope I can help with that,” Jinho says fervently. 

“She tells me you’re quite good at your job,” Seungcheol says, gesturing at you.

Jinho’s eyes sparkle as he looks at you, and your heart turns over in your chest. “Very kind of you,” he says.

You shrug. “Just true.” Never mind that you sometimes wished Jinho was worse at his job so he had more time for you. You try not to let the bitterness of that thought make a show on your face.

Seungcheol is watching both of you carefully when Jinho turns his attention to him. “What’s the budget we’re working with?” Jinho asks.

Seungcheol shrugs. “I’m pretty flexible.”

Jinho’s eyes go wide. “What, exactly, do you do for work?”

“I’m a sports statistician,” Seungcheol replies with a wry smile, “but I inherited a lot of money from my grandfather and spent the last ten years building a pretty significant real estate portfolio.”

Jinho nods in understanding while you gape at your friend. “You never told me that!” you say. 

“Maybe I didn’t want you to like me for the money,” Seungcheol teases, smiling at your flabbergasted face.

“Mostly commercial real estate?” asks Jinho. 

“Mostly business parks,” Seungcheol confirms. “I own a hotel downtown too.”

“Is the house your first residential acquisition?”

“The first I plan on living in myself,” Seungcheol clarifies.

Jinho nods. “Well, we can go one of three routes. You can use the art as another type of investment, or you can use it as just decor, or both.”

“I’m leaning toward decor,” Seungcheol says, “but investments would be cool, too.” He pulls out his phone. “I like calm pieces like this,” he explains, pointing at a few reference paintings — boats at a dock at sunrise, a still-life of dandelions on the shore of a pond, a cozy-looking city street in autumn. “Nothing too modern or sterile.”

Jinho nods again. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll see what I can do.”

It takes another half hour of finagling to get Jinho out of the apartment so you can whirl on Seungcheol. “Commercial real estate?” you say in a tiny voice. 

“Yeah,” he says, and you can hear the tension from the argument yesterday in his voice.

“I’m not mad,” you say quickly.

“I know,” he says back. You stare at each other for a long time. 

“Have I ever stayed in the hotel you own?” you finally ask to break the stony silence.

“Have you ever stayed in the Grandeur?” he fires back.

“You own the Grandeur?” you gasp, jaw dropping automatically. 

“Yeah,” he says again. “We had my birthday there once and I liked it so much I thought…” He trails off and blushes. 

“You thought what?”

And sheepishly, he looks down at the floor and replies in a quiet voice, “I thought it’d be a good birthday present.”

He actually laughs at the look on your face when he notices you. “This was all before I knew you,” he admits.

You sit down at the table with him again. “Okay, so, for the past few years we’ve been friends, you’ve been the richest person I’ve ever met. And I’ve met some very wealthy people. Like, when I bumped into you in the elevator, you were already a very wealthy man.”

“Yes,” he confirms. “This is why I think it’s silly to go Dutch when we go out to eat.”

“But you never said anything—“

“Because then I’d sound like a terrible person. ‘No, it’s fine, I’ll get this, I’m actually way richer than you.’”

“I might not have taken it that way,” you say doubtfully.

“Does it really change that much to know that I’m rich?” he asks. “I’m the same guy from before. Same personality and everything.”

“I know. It’s just weird to have to do the mental shift.”

“You don’t have to shift anything,” Seungcheol insists. “Everything is the same as it was before. You just have more information about me.”

“Why is this so weird for me?” you groan, slumping in your seat. “Intellectually, I get that you’re the same dude. But it just seems like you have this whole side of your life that you kept from me.”

“Maybe I was worried you’d react poorly,” Seungcheol says with a raised eyebrow.

You have to laugh at that. “You could be hanging out with celebrities. You could be dating models. But you hang out with me.”

He grins. “Well, you’re a lot more fun than most rich people.”

“Really?” you ask, rubbing at your forehead tiredly. “I guess being a disaster is entertaining, if nothing else.”

“You aren’t a disaster,” Seungcheol says with a warning tone. “And, for the third time, nothing is really different.”

“One thing’s for sure, though.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m never paying for another meal again,” you say, finally managing a real smile.

Seungcheol nods in approval. “That was how I hoped you’d react.”

“Just immediately start taking advantage of you?” you ask with a laugh.

“Well, yeah, pretty much,” Seungcheol says, and finally all the discomfort you’d been feeling dissolves into thin air as the two of you laugh together again. 

***

“So…you spend a lot of time with Seungcheol,” Jinho says at dinner next weekend. 

“Well, yeah,” you say. “He’s my best friend.”

Jinho nods thoughtfully, but he doesn’t look happy. “Do you think Seungcheol has ever had feelings for you?” he finally asks.

“I’m pretty certain he’s never felt anything past platonic for me,” you say, staring into your glass of water. “Why?”

Jinho gives you a long, hard look before answering. “You seem very close.”

“Like siblings?” you offer up half-heartedly. “There’s nothing going on between us, I promise. If there was, I wouldn’t have agreed to start seeing you again.”

Jinho nods. “I believe you. He just — he’s kind of intense, isn’t he?”

You contemplate. “I think he can be,” you finally respond. “Seungcheol is like … I don’t know. Maybe a fire is the best analogy. Capable of being comforting and quite destructive.”

“If he’s the flame, what does that make me?” Jinho asks you. He slips his hand into yours. 

You give him a little half-smile. “If he’s fire, you’re water.”

“Water usually beats fire,” Jinho says, sounding a bit comforted.

You squeeze his hand. “It’s not a competition.”

Because it isn’t. Seungcheol’s fire, as far as you could tell, burned deeper within him than the Marianna Trench, a terrifyingly powerful passion held in check by a man with enough kindness to keep it bubbling under the surface instead of spilling out onto everything around him. Jinho was more akin to swimming in the shallows. It was a comforting thing to be able to see his limits.

This is the first night that you kiss Jinho, post-breakup. The kiss is sugar-sweet, brief, and nervous — like you’re high school kids again. Your heart speeds up a little as your lips just brush.

And there is no fire to it at all.

***

You wake up the next day with a heaviness that seems to have burrowed its way into the marrow of your bones. It’s more emotional than physical, but the telltale ache of your body is enough to have you calling Minghao mid-morning. “I can’t come in,” you tell him. “I'm coming down with something.”

“Rest up,” he tells you, and you’re very grateful for him and how understanding he is as you end the call. 

Your first thought would normally be to call Seungcheol, but you dial Jinho’s number instead. When he doesn’t answer — probably still asleep, you reason — you slump on your bed, exhausted and unable to do much else besides stare at the ceiling of your bedroom.

This kind of sickness is awful. It’s even more awful when you’re facing it alone — when there’s no one there that can warm up the cold inside you. You can’t even muster up energy to leave your bed. The thought of cooking something is laughable. The emptiness and silence of it all is paralyzing. You’re lucky — for you, this inconvenient reality of your mental illness is rare — but when it hits, it’s difficult to remember what the point is of anything. 

Time crawls by like an inchworm across a vast, bare desert. If you had been able to feel anything at all, you know you’d be feeling acutely miserable. And still you lay there, uncomfortably warm in the light of day, still tangled in your blankets but unable to move them.

It’s a mystery to you how long you lay like this before a buzzing splits the silence. With tremendous effort, you grab your phone and look at the caller ID, expecting to see Jinho returning your call. But it’s Seungcheol.

“Hi,” he says once you’ve managed to answer it. “I haven’t heard from you today. You okay?”

“Hi,” you say in a flat, robotic tone, devoid of normal expression.

And in one word, Seungcheol knows. 

“I’m coming over,” he says, and hangs up.

A little drop of emotion seems to spill from your otherwise empty cup — anxiety. Seungcheol knows that you have days where life is harder than others. He’s also never seen you this incapacitated by one of them. A little knot of panic starts to grow in your chest, amplified by the seemingly hours-long minutes it takes Seungcheol to get to you. But when you finally hear him at the door, he lets himself in. 

He quietly makes his way back into your bedroom and sits at your bedside. “Hey, sweetheart,” he says softly.

You try to get your mouth to move — no dice. Instead, you just slightly turn your body to face him, trying your hardest to focus your gaze on him so he knows you heard him.

And Seungcheol leans down and scoops you up out of your blankets, lifting you easily from the bed and onto the couch. He doesn’t let you go, though, just keeps ahold of you. He holds you in a hug until the feeling starts to come back into your limbs and you’re able to reach your arms around him and cling on tight. And then he keeps you in his arms for several more minutes for good measure. You barely notice his sigh of relief and the way he relaxes into your grasp when you finally wrap your arms around him.

When he pulls away, you cringe. But he just pushes your hair off your face and looks you over, and the warmth of his hands on you soothes whatever raw part of yourself began to ache when he stopped holding you.

And he doesn’t ask you what happened, or try to make you explain anything. He just asks you if you’ve eaten. 

“No,” you rasp. It’s the first word you’ve spoken since the phone call. And so Seungcheol makes you eggs. He watches like a hawk as you mechanically bring the fork to your mouth until the eggs are gone. And then he sits beside you, quietly reading, until the sun goes down and Jinho arrives.

By that time, you still feel lethargic and nowhere near normal, but you can stomach a conversation. Jinho puts his arms around you and holds you tight as Seungcheol slips out the door, and you nestle in close, trying to feel the same warmth you felt when it was your best friend holding you. “Bad day?” Jinho asks softly, pressing a kiss into your hair. And you laugh — because he’s not wrong. But how can you explain this?

Luckily he doesn’t ask you to. The two of you put on a comforting cartoon and cuddle on the couch all night. Jinho is asleep, holding you, before you can put together how he even knew something was wrong. And when you do put it together, it hits you like a gut punch. Because there’s no one else who knew. 

Seungcheol has saved you once again. 

***

Two months later

“You better not drop that,” Seungcheol warns Mingyu, who shoots you a longsuffering look as he carries in a sleek overhead lamp to go in Seungcheol’s office.

“Go easy on him! He managed the glassware really well!” you scold, hitting Seungcheol lightly on the sleeve. “And shouldn’t you be carrying something?”

“He said he’s supervising,” Wonwoo says owlishly, right on Mingyu’s tail with a small box of paperweights. 

Seungcheol throws up his arms at the look you level at him. “I helped move all the heavy stuff,” he calls after Wonwoo, who’s disappearing up the stairs.

“So did Mingyu, but you don’t see him sitting around watching,” you tease with a smile. 

Seungcheol rolls his eyes and heads for the door, stepping around Jinho, who’s bringing in the last of the paintings for the gallery wall in the library. “Need help?” you ask as he comes to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“No, that’s okay,” he says. “You should help Vernon, though. I’ve heard he’s struggling with the jerseys.”

So you head into the east wing of the house, which Seungcheol has converted into an entertainment center. There are working arcade games, a pool table, a foosball table, and a projector complete with a huge drop-down screen for movies. Seungcheol, ever the sports fanatic, has acquired three priceless signed jerseys: a Pedro Martinez-signed Mets jersey, a Michael Jordan-signed Bulls jersey, and a Steve Young-signed 49ers jersey. Vernon is positioned underneath the wall where the Jordan and Martinez jerseys are already hung, staring pensively.

“You needed help?”

“They’re too far apart,” Vernon says. “There’s no room for the last one.”

“How long did it take you to do this?” you ask tiredly.

“Like two hours,” he replies with a sigh. 

So the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon taking down the jerseys and repositioning them. By the time you’re done, the rest of the house is practically finished. It’s amazing to see how much livelier it feels now that it’s not all empty white walls. 

“We have less than two hours until the housewarming party,” you remind Seungcheol, who’s sitting on the entryway steps looking exhausted. “Don’t you need to change?”

“Have you picked out my outfit yet?” he asks as Jinho comes up behind you and slides a hand around your waist. 

“I am nothing if not capable of meeting deadlines,” you remind him, squeezing Jinho’s hand and then beckoning Seungcheol up to his bedroom. Deftly, you lay his outfit out on his bed for him: a pair of light brown chinos, some black loafers, and a gift bag.

He raises his eyebrows. “What’s this?” he complains, but you can see a bit of his dimple and know he’s trying to hide a smile.

“Your housewarming present from me,” you tell him. “Now open it.”

He does — and reveals a soft black collared shirt. “This is nice,” he says, rubbing the material with his fingers. 

“I made it,” you say. 

“You did?” he asks, looking at you so quickly you think you hear his neck pop.

“By hand. With love,” you say, and open your arms to him.

He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in, wrapping you up in a squeeze. “It’s perfect,” he says into your hair. “Thanks.”

“And,” you say, pulling back before his closeness gives you goosebumps, “a finishing touch.” You hand him a small box. “From Jinho.”

Surprised, Seungcheol opens the box. Inside is a slim black watch. “Wow. I should go tell him thank you,” Seungcheol says.

“Yes, you should,” you agree. “And then you should shower.” You crinkle your nose, and Seungcheol scoffs before running downstairs to say thank you to Jinho for the help and the watch.

You don’t have a lot of time to get ready for the housewarming party, so you end up showering quickly and throwing your hair into a messy bun before putting on your nice clothes and running downstairs to the cab Jinho brought to pick you up. Together, you make the short drive to the house, where you can already see a small crowd of people standing in that beautiful entryway. 

You grasp Jinho’s hand as the two of you walk in, greeting the friends you know and looking at the house with the renewed attention of people who aren’t trying to decorate it. It’s beautiful and cozy, with a natural, elevated style that suits the owner perfectly. Seungcheol’s house is full of earthy colors and calming textures, and you couldn’t be more proud. 

As is so often the case in a crowd, you find yourself looking for the man of the hour — and your heart sinks as your eyes follow the errant sound of his laughter in the high-ceiling room. Seungcheol is standing with a beautiful woman, laughing heartily at something she said. 

You knew he’d stopped seeing that pretty, knowledgeable sports reporter about two weeks after it started, but you hadn’t heard anything else about his love life since. You had a sense that Seungcheol tried to keep you separate from his romantic relationships, and so you didn’t want to pry. But surely he’d have said something to you if he really was seeing someone.

Someone calls your name, bringing you back to earth. “Minghao?” you say in disbelief.

“Hi,” Minghao says with a wave. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Seungcheol invited me,” he says simply. 

“Wow, that’s cool,” you say, still confused at the sight of your boss just hanging out with all your friends. “Minghao, this is Jinho. Jinho, meet Minghao — he’s my boss.”

They shake hands while you try to figure out why you didn’t introduce Jinho as your boyfriend. Minghao asks you if you’re excited for your award ceremony tomorrow night — turns out, one of your shoots won some kind of award.

“Kind of,” you reply. “I’m a little nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” Jinho says gently. “You deserve the award.”

You give his hand a squeeze, and then Seungcheol steps away from the woman (after giving her shoulder a squeeze, which makes you grit your teeth), and stands on one of the steps of the staircase to address the group. 

“Thank you all for your help and for coming to this housewarming party. I wouldn’t have been able to make this move without lots of help, so I’m super grateful.” He looks right at you then, and you see that carefully caged fire beneath his brown eyes. You feel the rest of the world melt away as he continues. “I want this to be a place where you feel welcome. I want you to feel as comfortable here as you do in your own home. Please let this be the beginning of a tradition where you know you can show up on my porch at any time and there will be a warm greeting for you.”

Your heart is in your throat. The eye contact between you two seems to connect your souls, searing into you like a hot branding iron, marking you forever. 

And then it passes, and you take a deep shuddering breath. Jinho looks at you in alarm. And Seungcheol finishes, “there are drinks and snacks — stay as long as you like.”

As everyone else mulls around the house, eating and drinking and laughing together, Seungcheol comes up to you and Jinho. "Thank you for your help," he says to Jinho, and his smile is genuine and kind. "I really couldn't have managed without you. The art is fantastic."

"Anytime," Jinho says, blushing. You grin at the sight of his shyness.

"I wanted to show you something," Seungcheol says, taking Jinho by the arm. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," you say, waving them off. The two men disappear into the crowd, and you walk toward Mingyu, Wonwoo, and Vernon, who are all standing at the edge of the room laughing with each other. "Hey," you say, and Mingyu sweeps you into his side in a quick hug.

"Hi," they chorus together. "You cleaned up nice," Wonwoo says, pointing at your dress.

"Thanks!" you say, a little surprised. Wonwoo usually wasn't the most vocal in his appreciation, and the compliment melted you just a little.

"Seungcheol told him to say that," Vernon says, with the air of a toddler tattling on his brother.

Your heart warms at the thought. "Of course he did," you say. "He's entirely too good to me."

"Where is Jinho?" asks Mingyu.

"Seungcheol dragged him off somewhere," you say. "I don't know."

The three of you discuss the usual gossip -- the other boys' love lives -- all the way up until Seungcheol and Jinho find you again. Jinho looks a little rattled, but pulls it together when he sees you.

"Where did he take you?" you ask him.

"I'll tell you later." It came out in such a flat little voice that you know something is wrong, but you don't feel like you can ask him about it, so you just stay quiet.

And you feel such sweeping emptiness that you find yourself dissociating from the party. Seungcheol introduces you to his friends you didn’t know already, and even in your disconnected state you register the pretty woman’s name — Nikita. She is so nice to you, telling you how much she loves the decor in “Cheol’s” house. 

It’s enough to send you home with a headache an hour and a half later.

***

It’s 8:45pm. Jinho left your award ceremony to go to the bathroom, and he still hasn’t come back. 

Things have been weird since last night. You’re starting to get the feeling that Jinho notices how you’re affected by Seungcheol and isn’t happy about it. It makes you feel rubbed raw, like your whole body has carpet burn. 

But now, you’re starting to panic. Jinho was the one who drove you downtown to this swanky party your company threw for you, and now you’re 45 minutes from home with just your phone — no wallet to pay for a cab if Jinho really did run off. 

Your phone rings — it’s Jinho. 

“Where are you?” you ask in a panic, your voice cracking with stress.

“I left,” Jinho says calmly. “I’m sorry. But I think there are some things you’ve been lying to me about. So for your own sake, and for my sanity, we can’t do this anymore.”

“Lying?” you say, choking around the word. “What do you mean?”

“Call Seungcheol. I bet he can explain it to you,” Jinho says harshly. And he hangs up.

The only reason why you don’t call Seungcheol immediately upon hearing the line go dead is because you’re in shock. You’d thought that the very real, very intensely powerful feelings you felt for Seungcheol wouldn’t get in the way of developing a new relationship — possibly hoping that any new feelings would push out the old ones.

But those old feelings had grown roots. And now they sat there, planted in your chest, too entangled with the person you are to be plucked out, and you’d been refusing to look at them, but now it was time. Jinho was right — you’d lied to him when you’d said there was nothing there. You’d lied to yourself for months, maybe years. The only person it seemed that you hadn’t lied to about it was Seungcheol himself, and that was simply because he’d never asked. If he’d asked, you would’ve lied to him too — lied until you were blue in the face, lied until you both believed it, because the truth would surely kill whatever good thing existed between the two of you.

The truth being, of course, that you are in love with Choi Seungcheol.

You’ve fought it so long it almost relieves you to say it, if only just to yourself. You’re in love with him, and you know now that no matter how much anyone else tries, you’re going to end up right back here, wanting him.

Your hands shake as you call him. 

He answers on the second ring.

“Jinho left me at the party,” you say hazily. “I’m 45 minutes away and I don’t have my wallet. I’m — I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Seungcheol says. You can hear him moving around, probably looking for his coat and his keys, and then he says, “are you okay? Where are you right now?”

You look around. Unbeknownst to you, your feet carried you out of the event space and into the lobby area, where you’re alone. “I’m okay. I’m by myself. I'm still inside the venue.”

“Stay right there, and don’t move. I’m coming.”

You expect the time to crawl by as you wait for Seungcheol, a pit of dread building in your stomach, but before you know it, he’s walking in and scooping you into his arms. “I’m so sorry,” he says, and you don’t have the strength to resist melting into him. Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you whisper back. “I did this to myself.”

“There’s no good excuse for him to leave you here,” Seungcheol says sharply. 

He takes you out to his car. The drive home is almost silent, as you let tears fall into your lap, staining your pink dress. When you finally get to your apartment, Seungcheol helps you inside before he turns to you, jaw clenched. “I ought to kill him,” he says in a low, dangerous voice.

“You don’t know —“ you start, but Seungcheol pulls away.

“No, I’m not going to hear this,” he says shortly. “All of our whole friendship, you’ve always accepted this kind of thing as inevitable. I have to know. Why do you do it?”

Seungcheol is angrier than you’ve ever seen him — brown eyes blazing, cheeks red and face heated. “I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand,” you ask in a flat little voice. 

“I haven’t ever seen you be treated well in a relationship. And that’s not your fault, but I guess I don’t know why you stick around when time after time they make you miserable.” He pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “I watch them hurt you, over and over again. Why do you just take it? Why don’t you fight for yourself?”

“I — because of love?” you squeak. “Love means — love means you stay.”

And your heart breaks. Because every time someone else walked away from you, it reinforced the idea that you were uncared for. Because no matter how well the relationship started, it always ends up hurting you more than anyone. And because the only man who’s never hurt you is the one in front of you right now, and even if he did love you, you don’t trust that you could believe it. 

He takes your face in his hands. “It’s not love. Love isn’t the thing that breaks your heart. At least, not when it’s healthy.” He brushes a tear off your face with his thumb. “Someone who truly loves you wouldn’t leave you behind like that.”

Maybe his fire lights some of yours too — because now, you’re angry. Angry enough to push his hands from your face, to turn away from those eyes that are so beseeching and so understanding and so right. “Are you the expert?” you ask him quietly, but your hands are shaking and your voice is lethal. “What do you really know about love?”

His jaw flexes — his eyes flash — he crosses his arms over his chest. “Everything I know about love,” he says with a barely contained voice, “I have learned from you.”

You have no words for this. So you stand, breathless, watching Seungcheol. Waiting.

He sighs. And then comes undone. The tears start to flow down his cheeks. But when you move toward him, he steps away. “I’ve loved you for so long it’s hard to imagine a time when I didn’t. When I try to find someone else, I end up falling in love with pieces of them that remind me of you. It’s unfair to them. I haven’t tried in awhile.”

He brushes his tears, then looks you in the eye. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll let you…I’ll give you some space.”

And with that, he leaves you alone in your apartment, wondering how small a human is capable of feeling.

***

The next few days are torturously slow. You’re icy cold and can’t seem to get warm no matter what you do. Seungcheol doesn’t reach out — and you know it’s because he’s trying to give you space — but you sort of hate not hearing from him, not knowing what’s going on. By day three, you’ve had enough. You call him.

And the look he gives you when he shows up on your doorstep a few minutes later is almost enough to make you abandon what you know you have to say. What all that time by yourself has taught you. What you've spent all your nights crying yourself to sleep over.

But still — Seungcheol holds you. He wraps you up in his arms, his broad hand stroking the back of your head, and you can feel his heart nearly leaping out of his chest.

“I love you,” you whisper.

He freezes. Pulls back, confused. “I love you,” you repeat, louder now.

“You do?” he asks. And he’s bewildered, but he also seems to sag in relief.

“Yes,” you say. “I don’t remember when it started. It doesn’t matter. All I know is I love you.”

And when he smiles at you, for the first time in days, you don’t feel that spine-tingling cold. 

You take a deep breath.

“But I don’t think I’m in a good place for a relationship right now,” you say.

Seungcheol swallows. Hard.

“I know you don’t need to be perfect to be in a relationship,” you say. “And I’m not saying I don’t want to be with you. I’ve just learned that I don’t know how to open myself up to love. Real love. And … and if it’s you, I can’t risk it.” You take his face in your hands. “I want to be healthy. I don't want to ... depend on you so much that I lose myself, like I do with other people. I wouldn’t ask you to wait around until I’m ready,” you murmur. “So I understand if…you can’t, or won’t. But I need to figure out some things first.”

And Seungcheol wraps his arms around you once again. “You are choosing yourself this time,” he says. “And I’m proud of you.”

After a long while of holding each other, Seungcheol says, “Hear me out.”

You look at him. “What do you mean?” 

“I got an offer. To help with the Olympics.”

Your jaw drops. “In France?”

He nods. “For four months.”

You wince as this sinks in. “You want to go, don’t you?”

“I really want to go,” he says. “And maybe…”

“That would give me time.” You don’t have to ask what he’s insinuating — you already know. 

“I��m not giving you a deadline,” he says quickly. “If you’re still not…well, I was thinking we could just — just see where we’re at by then.”

You resist the urge to burst into tears, to throw yourself into his arms and beg him not to leave, and instead try to be logical about it. “A winter alone,” you muse. “Maybe it’ll be good for me.”

Seungcheol looks like he could kiss you. Instead, he squeezes you tightly. “If you need me — I mean, I’ll fly home in a second if you ask.”

And you know that he’s telling the truth, and you know that because of that, you’d never ask that of him. But you still say, “Deal.”

And then you spend the rest of the night sitting quietly, snuggled up with your best friend, determinedly not thinking about the moment you’ll need to let go.

*** 

Seungcheol leaves two days later. 

He stops by before he heads to the airport. “Will you water my plants while I’m away?” he asks. 

“Of course,” you promise.

He gives you one last searching look. “I’m not leaving you,” he reminds you.

“I know,” you say quickly. 

“And you really can ask me to come back whenever you want,” he says.

“I know,” you say, finally cracking a smile. “Go live your dream. I’ll be here when you get back.”

The final hug, a sweeter-than-honey forehead kiss — promising more — and Seungcheol is gone.

You let yourself ache for him for a minute. And then you act. 

You whip out your phone, dial a number. 

“This is Rocky Heights Mental Wellness Clinic. How can I help?” 

You smile at the chipper tone from the receptionist. “Hi,” you reply. “I’d like to set up a therapy appointment.”