#but it might help some people let go of it in their minds

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Dating the Slytherin boys (+ Harry) - HEADCANONS

Requested: No

Characters: Mattheo Riddle, Tom Riddle, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Regulus Black, Harry Potter (+ y/n)

Warnings: NSFW mentions, English is not my first language

A/N: I'm not sure I like this but here we go. However I have to say I like Regulus' one so I might turn his version into a one shot one day (when uni won't be killing me slowly). This will include also the pre-dating/flirting stage as well. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Enjoy! ^^

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus

Tag list for this story: @anawritez-posts @pumpkinchee @alwayslatetothefandoms

Mattheo Riddle:

His feelings for you probably confused him at first 

If he falls first, he either won’t let you know or will do everything to get your attention (‘Hey, y/n, come sit here, the seat is free!”, “y/n, do you mind helping me with homework for Snape? I can’t bloody do it”, “How about we go to Hogsmeade, just you and me?”, “you look beautiful, y/n”)

Your love for him always calms him when he gets anxious or when he’s upset, especially after his father comes back

Will tell you things he never told anyone

Would rather spend time with you than with his friends

Is terrified something will happen to you because of his father 

VERY jealous, but trusts you

Despite easily getting angry, he can’t get mad at you. Even during arguments 

LOVES sleeping in your arms or when you just hold him

He's crazy about your body

Loves showering with you, and we both know how it often ends

HOT, passionate sex

Will randomly eat you out without expecting anything in return (doesn't mind if you return the favor, though)

100% calls you "baby" or "love" all the time

Doesn’t care about what anyone thinks of him as long as you love him

Your love makes him feel lighter and stronger

You're his whole world

Feels bad when he hears someone criticize you for dating him 

Always makes sure you don’t overwork yourself, and makes sure you get enough sleep, water and food, and comforts you when you're anxious

Holds your hands when he's anxious or stressed

Will listen to anything you have to say 

Crazy about your perfume

Theodore Nott:

Struggles to express his love or feelings in general, at least in the beginning 

Has never done serious relationships before, and it may cause some trouble in your relationship, as you end up believing he doesn’t care about you

It causes many fights, and the last one will be the first time he says ‘I love you’

Always goes to you for comfort 

Loves sleeping with you in his arms/on his laps, or cuddling, and with time he can’t sleep without you

Loves watching you sleep 

Loves having you on his lap

Always gets you great gifts (even randomly)

“Well, it thought it was pretty, and…it reminded me of you.”

Will fight any guy who is rude to you or acts like a creep 

Very jealous (trusts you, doesn’t trust others)

Doesn’t mind PDA at all, will gladly hold your hand or kiss you in public

Always have a hand on your waist of around your shoulders 

Very supportive in everything you do, even when he doesn’t understand it/isn’t interested in it

Isn’t very good with comforting people (mostly because he's not used to it), but will hold you and listen to you as long as you need, can even give you advice/reassurance 

Every compliment/'I love you' you say melts his heart and means much more to him than he shows, same goes for anything you do for him

Loves doing fun things, even if it’s just throwing snowballs at each other during winter (which ends in loving kisses, just savouring the joy of being together)  

Love getting in a pool with you and playing "childish" games

Any form of intimacy means A LOT to him 

He's used to hooks up and "fucking" but it takes him a bit of time to have sex with you (despite being crazy about you and your body) because you mean everything to him and with you it's really making love instead of just "fucking"

The first time is loving and slow yet passionnate (eye contact, hands holding, desperate kisses from him), and it gets a bit rougher and passionate the next times (but aftercare, which he isn't used to, is always on point and keeps getting better)

Is secretly very insecure, and is terrified you will leave him (especially for another “better” guy) 

Craves your touch and your love but won’t admit it

His boggart is probably you being dead alongside his mother

Will tell you sweets things in Italian

Very clingy in private - and also in public with time

With you he learns to be happier and discovers a happier side of himself he didn't know he had

Loves you much more than he actually shows at first 

Will often say you're all he has (and means it)

But with time, you have no reason to doubt his love and he’s the perfect boyfriend

Blaise Zabini:

Probably will court you like the gentleman he is

He doesn’t trust people easily and might be a little distant (while always polite and kind) in the early stages of your relationship 

But with time he becomes very warm and smiles a lot

Always kisses the top of your hand or your forehead 

Doesn’t do much PDA except for holding hands and kisses on your forehead

However in private he’ll 100% cuddle you and hold you

Dates in parks or restaurants  

Get you flowers at least once a month

Will always defend you against others 

One of his love languages is acts of service

Lorenzo Berkshire:

You either were friends before dating or he fell in love with you at first sight, there is no in between

Takes you on fun dates (arcade, funfair, theme parks) 

Can be shy at the beginning, which will make it a bit hard for him to talk about he feels about you

Movie nights where you two eats lots of snacks and sweets while cuddling 

Always smiles when you enter a room

So supportive 

Loves when you're on his lap

He has no problem with PDA

Quickly willing to meet your family if you agree

He’s a great listener and mostly gives good advices 

Loves taking naps with you 

Always makes you sure you get enough sleep, water and food

Won’t let you get yourself into dangerous situations

Loves to go anywhere with you, no matter the activity and even if he just follows you around 

Many pet names

If you're Muggleborn or grew up among Muggles, he will totally ask you questions about the muggle world

Passionnate sex, will get rough if he hasn't seen you in a long time or if it's angry sex after he got jealous

His aftercare is the best, and he's always thankful you trust him enough to have that form of intimacy with him

Draco Malfoy:

Won’t flirt at first with you but keeps wanting your attention

Tries to seduce you with expensive gifts, and is a bit taken aback when you say he doesn’t work

Continues to get you gifts, but will make sure they match your interests/tastes, and keeps expensive gifts for your birthdays and Christmas (even though he’d like to get them all year for you) 

At first he doesn't show any weakness in your presence

With you he’ll learn patience and to focus of more positive things, and also to stand up to his father

Takes you on dates every chance he gets

Will ditch his friends to spend time with you

Probably makes Crabbe and Goyle carry your bags or do things for you

So proud to be dating you, it might even make him more arrogant

Gets grumpy when jealous but after a kiss on the cheek he’s back to his normal self 

Will invite you to his home and write you nearly everyday during holidays

Hates it when Harry or any Gryffindor boy tries to talk to you

Surprisingly has no problem with PDA

Loves when you come to see him play during Quidditch matches

Tom Riddle:

Oh boy

It started with him admiring/watching you from afar, for he reason he can’t understand

SUPER confused by what he feels for you and why

Will probably try to get closer to you through homework or through books if he sees you read one

Will know everything about you, and will secretly follow you, saving you if you’re in danger with you never knowing who it was

Crazy about your perfume, so much so that it makes him steal one of your clothes just to be able to smell it anytime he wants

After a while, he’ll spend most of his time with you without ever admitting he likes it

Will probably let you know his feelings for you after he cast a spell on a guy for being a creep with you 

Won’t let another man touch you

Will ask Mattheo for advice to be better or to make you fall in love with him

Will do your homework without hesitation, even if he pretends that he hates it, and will leave explanations so you understand his answers/his work

No PDA except for holding hands or your hand under his arm, but will make sure to stay close to you at all times 

Is a surprisingly good listener 

VERY jealous, but surprisingly isn’t mad or suspicious at you

“Did you enjoy having his attention? Do you wish for me to show you how my attention is better?” 

He doesn't stress over homework or stuff like that, so he finds it ridiculous when you do (learns with time to be more understanding)

Will let flowers in your room with a note on it

Pretends to not care about the gifts you get him for his birthday or Christmas but it actually means so much to him as no one ever got him any gifts before 

Nothing the others say about him gets to him, but he gets angry when he hears someone say that you deserve better than him

Is secretly insecure about his background and the fact that he’s poor, and thinks you deserve better 

As Voldemort: Might be torn between continuing his goals for power and spending a simple with you; is aware you’ll leave him if he gets on a darker path 

As Voldemort’s son: would do everything to protect you from his father, and if he’s forced to get the Dark Mark, he will makes sure you don’t know 

Possessive kisses 

Would hurt anyone who does you wrong

Borrows money from Draco to take you on dates or to get you gifts, as he feels like you deserve the nicest things, even though you keep telling him his mere presence is enough

May feel a little bit guilty that he can’t properly show you his love like “normal” boyfriends do 

Won’t admit it but considers you the only good thing in his life, and if he ever lost you he’d get on a dark path

Won’t cuddle at first, but if you wake up first you’ll find him sleeping close to you, with at least one of his hands touching you

Always notices when you don’t eat, sleep or drink enough

Not only you’re the first (and only) person he feels romantic love for

He has a bit of sexual experience before, but with you it's completely different - once you guys have sex for the first time, he becomes obsessed with your body and how it makes him feel

Loves fingering you

"You like it, dove?"

Even if you guys don’t work out, he won’t ever be with somebody else 

Would ask your parents for you hand in marriage, but honestly it's just out of politeness, the only answer that matters to him is yours

Regulus Black:

Like Blaise, he was raised the old fashioned way

Acts coldly towards everyone except you, his tone and eyes gets warmer and kinder when talking/looking at you, and you’re the only person he’ll smile at

You were his best (and only) friend and he has been in love with you for years

He hides his feelings very well, but one day you start dating someone else (thinking Regulus doesn’t share your feelings) but he can’t bear it and confesses his feelings

Always defends you

He’ll take you on restaurants or picnics dates, always bringing flowers

Mostly fine with PDA (holding hands, hands on your waist)

Thinks he’s very lucky to have you

Probably already starts thinking of marrying you during your last year at Hogwarts 

A bit jealous, but can’t stand it when Sirius tries to talk to you

Will gladly do your homework with/for you

Loves it when you sleep in each other’s arms, loves feeling you close

Loves it when you call him “Reggie” (only you is allowed to)

Will literally do everything you ask him to

You’re everything to him

Can’t stay away from you for long

Will get worried if you’re five minutes late

Always calls you “sweetheart” or “love”/”my love” 

Slow, romantic sex most of the time but sometimes he needs to be rougher

Thanks to you he’ll feel lighter and he will become kinder

You’ll even make him change his views on blood purity and stand up to his parents, and with time he gets closer to Sirius thanks to that (and you) 

If that doesn’t change and he still joins Voldemort, he’ll leave you a letter before going to the cavern, saying how much he loves you and how much you mean to him

Harry Potter:

Don’t expect any pet names from him, but he might create a nickname with your name (like he calls Ginny ‘Gin’ in the Cursed Child) 

His love languages are fierce protectiveness, loyalty and a patience he didn’t knew he had

Has no problem with PDA because he doesn’t care about what other people think  

Loves cuddles

Rarely gets mad at you, and feels guilty when he does

Mostly gets mad at you when you hurt yourself (for example during Quidditch) but it's also because he was scared for you

Hot kisses in private

Will be jealous if he sees you with another guy 

He’s passionate in a lot of things he does, and it includes you and everything you do

Will fiercely defend you again anyone, can even throw hands

Gets FURIOUS when Umbridge hurts you during detention, and will cuddle you for hours and do everything he can to make the pain disappear

Knows people are mean to you during fifth year because you're dating him and he hates it

During that year the only peace he feels is when he's holding you or when you sleep in his arms (it's also the only time he doesn't get nightmares)

Very supportive 

Loves getting you gifts 

You make him feel SO happy, he’ll just keep smiling for no reason 

Gets more and more clingy with time

Always write to you during the holidays (you always invite him to come to your house)

I'm not sure about sex while you guys are at Hogwarts but he 100% feels lust for you, there will definitely be hot making sessions when you guys are alone in a dark corner of the castle and it often ends up with you against the wall with your legs around his waist while he kisses your neck and caresses your legs

However sometimes he just can't stop himself and will eat you out (even maybe finger you at the same time), and will be proud when you come

Any act of service you do for him means a lot

You're always worried about him when he's at the Dursleys but he reassures you that he's fine

Comes to you in the middle of the night if he has a nightmare and generally comes to you for comfort or to rant 

Needs you more than ever after Voldemort comes back and after Sirius’ death 

Misses you like crazy during his quest for Horcruxes, and he can’t bear the thought of something happening to you 

Might struggle to show it, but he knows and is thankful of how patient and comprehensive you are with him, and that makes him want to be the best boyfriend he can be

Terrified Voldemort might hurt/kill you

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[seongwars]

forget me not | iv

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x witch!Reader AU: non-idol | supernatural Summary: Yunho should be happy--he's got everything going for him and he's set to marry the love of his life! So why is he standing outside of your shop on the night of his engagement party? Word Count: 7.5K (my bad) Warnings: infidelity, use of the k word

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a/n: my stitches reopened and I had to go back and get restitched 😬 so I spent all day in bed editing this chapter. i love reading everyone's theories and feedback is always welcome!

The first time Haewon saw Yunho, it was at your dorm during a study session. You were both surrounded by books, notes, and various pieces of stationary scattered across the floor. While you were focusing on writing out your note cards, Haewon was dancing around the room in an attempt to “activate her brain cells”. 

She had been caught up in her own world until the sound of a knock interrupted her antics. You stood up to answer the door, and a low voice followed, mingled with a chuckle—deep, familiar, and warm.

Yunho.

He was your best friend, someone she’d heard about but hadn’t paid much attention to. But that day, something was different. He sat with a pile of books and a look of quiet concentration that intrigued her. His presence was magnetic, though subtle, and without realizing it, Haewon found herself sneaking glances at him, captivated by the calm determination in his demeanor.

She wasn’t sure when it happened exactly, but at some point, between stolen glances and shared laughter over late-night group study sessions, she started to fall for him. Yunho was kind, always the first to offer a helping hand, and his dedication to his friends and family was unwavering. He had a way of making everyone feel valued and heard.

And when he asked her to be his girlfriend, she was over the moon. 

"Did you know Yunho was going to ask me out?" she beamed, her voice laced with an excitement that made your heart sink.

You froze for a second, your pencil hovering above the page. There was a flicker of something—disappointment, maybe even hurt—but you quickly swallowed it down. 

"Maybe," you muttered, your voice light, almost teasing, though it took everything in you to keep it that way. Haewon didn’t see the way your grip tightened on the pencil, or how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

"I can’t believe it," she gushed, oblivious to the turmoil behind your composed expression. "I mean, I’ve liked him for a while now, and I wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, but when he asked me…God, it was perfect."

"That’s great, Haewon" you said, your voice quieter than before, trying desperately to sound convincing. 

You fell in love with the way Yunho truly saw you, even when you tried to hide parts of yourself. He understood you in ways no one else ever had, knowing your fears, your dreams, and all the things that made you tick. Somewhere along the line, you stopped worrying about what he would think of you because with Yunho, you never had to pretend.

That’s when you knew you loved him—because the idea of life without him didn’t feel like life at all.

But how could you tell him? You weren’t like Haewon—bold and unafraid, able to voice her feelings as if vulnerability wasn’t terrifying. She was all confidence and ease, speaking her mind without a second thought, while you were cautious, overthinking, content to blend into the background.

Telling Yunho how you felt would mean stepping into the unknown. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him if things went wrong. So you stayed silent, burying your feelings deep, hoping that somehow, you could protect what you had by keeping your secret. 

But things went wrong anyway.

You tried not to not let their relationship affect you, told yourself you were happy for them. Haewon and Yunho were two of the most important people in your life, and they deserved happiness. You repeated that to yourself like a mantra, hoping that if you said it enough, you might actually believe it. 

It hurt seeing them together, knowing that while you were happy for them, you couldn’t help the ache in your chest every time Yunho laughed a little too easily at something she said, or when she rested her head on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The worst part was that you couldn’t even be angry. How could you? Haewon hadn’t done anything wrong; she hadn’t stolen Yunho from you, and Yunho hadn’t abandoned you. It was like watching sand slip through your fingers—nothing to hold on to, nothing you could do to stop it.

Yunho was happy, and you cared about him enough to want that for him, even if it wasn’t with you.

After you disappeared, everything fell apart in ways neither of them expected. Yunho and Haewon participated in search parties, posted on social media about your disappearance, and cooperated with law enforcement. But there were no answers, no trace of where you’d gone or why. The emptiness you left behind was palpable, a gaping hole in both their lives.

At first, Haewon believed they were grieving together. She felt the weight of your absence in every corner of her life, and Yunho, in his quiet way, did too. But then, she began to notice the way their relationship shifted. 

It was subtle at first: a slight distance in Yunho’s eyes, the way he seemed preoccupied even when they were alone. He would zone out in the middle of conversations, and even when he held Haewon in his arms, his heart wasn’t fully there. 

Slowly, painfully, she realized the truth. Yunho wasn’t just mourning you—he was waiting for you. He was still tethered to you, pulled by an invisible force that Haewon couldn’t compete with.

She never considered herself a mean girl. Sure, she had grown up in a comfortable world, surrounded by friends who were a little more tightly wounded and concerned with appearances. But now, standing on the other side of it, Haewon could see the truth for what it was. Yunho was never really hers to begin with. She hadn’t stolen him—not intentionally—but she had taken something that was never really hers to claim. 

Then there was Sungjae. 

Sungjae had never been a close friend, not really. He was more of a background figure—someone on the outskirts of Haewon’s social circle who, little by little, had weaseled his way in. He was everything Yunho wasn’t: impulsive, flirtatious, unpredictable. And it was those very qualities that ignited something in her.

The affair began quietly, like a secret Haewon wasn’t ready to admit even to herself. It started innocently enough—casual conversations, coffee outings after shared classes. They’d stay up late in the library, long after everyone else had left, talking about things that felt too personal, too vulnerable to share with anyone else. Haewon convinced herself it was nothing more than a close friendship—after all, she had a large circle of friends. What harm could one more friend do?

As time passed, the line between friendship and something more blurred. In the quiet moments following your disappearance, Haewon found herself relying on Sungjae in ways she hadn’t with Yunho in years. He became her anchor when the world felt uncertain, someone who made her feel alive and seen.

At first, it was easy to justify: she and Yunho had been drifting apart. Haewon had noticed it in the way their conversations had become shorter, less meaningful; the way they sat together in silence more often than not, the air between them filled with unspoken tension. 

But there was also something darker about Sungjae—something tied to the past Haewon desperately tried to forget. The night you disappeared, Sungjae had humiliated you, his cruel words cutting through the air as everyone watched in uncomfortable silence. And Haewon had stood by, doing nothing. She had stayed silent, too afraid to confront him, too indifferent to speak up.

Yunho had done nothing, either. His usual kind, gentle demeanor had turned into passive inaction, making excuses whenever Haewon brought up the topic like "It's just a phase" or "They’ll work it out."

“Do you think Sungjae had something to do with Y/N’s disappearance?” Haewon suddenly blurted out as the two were cooking dinner. 

Yunho froze, his jaw tightening. He knew the answer—he had always known. The last time anyone had seen you was when you stormed out of the apartment, cheeks flushed with shame and frustration. And yet, Yunho couldn’t admit it out loud. Admitting that Sungjae was responsible meant confronting his own failure, his own role in pushing you away.

“If he did,” Yunho said, his voice low, a dangerous edge creeping in, “I’ll kill him myself.”

“But you were the last one who saw her.”

His entire body tensed, the weight of Haewon’s accusation hitting him harder than he expected. He turned to face her fully, eyes dark and cold.

“You think I had something to do with Y/N’s disappearance?” His voice was low, hurt and anger threading through each word. He could feel the bile rising in his chest, burning with the injustice of her suspicion.

“That’s not what I said—”

“But it’s what you meant.” Yunho cut her off. “You think I’m the reason she’s gone?”

“I’m just trying to figure out what happened,” she murmured, her voice softer now, though the accusation still lingered between them. 

“All I did was walk her out, and the CCTV proved that! You have no idea how much Y/N’s disappearance is affecting me! But to even suggest that I could’ve done something…” His voice trailed off, swallowed by a surge of emotion.

“I can’t do this,” Yunho muttered, his voice barely audible now as he turned away from her. Grabbing his jacket off the chair, he headed for the door, his movements tense and deliberate. “I’m done with this conversation.”

His footsteps faltered just before reaching the door, the frustration inside him boiling over. He spun back to face Haewon, his voice sharp and biting.

“Every time it comes to Sungjae, you choose him. Why?”

“I–” Haewon’s voice cracked, but Yunho didn’t stop. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving a deafening silence in his wake.

Haewon knew it wasn’t fair to keep dragging him along when her heart was no longer fully his. But the thought of actually leaving—the finality of it—terrified her. The knowledge that once she walked away, there would be no going back was something she wasn’t sure she could handle.

And then Yunho proposed. 

It caught her completely off guard—a moment she hadn’t prepared for despite all her doubts and uncertainty. She hadn’t expected him to propose, not now. But instead of facing the truth, instead of admitting that her heart had drifted away and she was entangled in an affair with someone else, Haewon did the only thing she could think of: she convinced herself that accepting Yunho’s proposal would fix everything.

Haewon felt trapped. She felt the walls closing in, suffocating her as she tried to play the part of the happy fiancée. On the night of the engagement party, everyone around them was celebrating, toasting to their future, but all she could think about was how wrong it all felt. Her heart wasn’t in it—not fully—and she knew it.

The alcohol didn’t help. Glass after glass, Haewon drank to drown out the noise in her head, to silence the guilt and doubt. She wanted to forget, to numb herself to everything, but instead, it only made her feel more exposed.

She avoided Yunho most of the night, choosing instead to party with her friends, laughing too loudly, her smile brittle around the edges. Yunho tried to get her to slow down, to pull her back to him, to hold her close, but every time he did, it felt like the air was being sucked out of her lungs. It wasn’t his fault, but being near him only made the weight of her choices heavier.

Finally, something inside her snapped. Right there, in front of everyone. The frustration, the guilt, the suffocating pressure of pretending—it all came to the surface. She knew it was unfair, that Yunho didn’t deserve it, but she couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. 

Now, as she laid in bed next to Sungjae, the weight of her betrayal closed in on her. The wedding was fast approaching, a date circled on the calendar like a death sentence, and there was no backing out now. The dress had been chosen, the invitations sent. Everyone was expecting a celebration, but all Haewon could feel was dread. 

Yunho had betrayed you too, hadn’t he? He had stood on the sidelines, just as complicit, watching as Sungjae’s cruelty unraveled you. And yet, he had stayed—stayed with her, proposed to her, tried to build a future with her. It was laughable. 

The two of them, pretending like they could escape what they’d done, like they could forge something real out of ashes. But the truth had always been there, lurking beneath the surface. 

They were no better than the man lying next to her now.

Perhaps this was what she and Yunho both deserved—two people who had betrayed you, condemned to a life of misery together.

Life in the Emporium was nothing short of magical surprises.

Each day began with a quiet ritual, a moment of calm before the shop's unique energy fully awoke. The first thing you’d do each morning was reach for the incense—carefully selected for its cleansing properties—and light it. As the fragrant smoke curled into the air, it seemed to reset the entire space, gently sweeping away the lingering energies left behind by the previous day’s visitors.

Above, the flowers in the hanging garden stirred with the first touch of morning light, their vibrant petals responding as if in greeting. You watered them with a flick of the wrist, though it felt more like a gesture of care than necessity—they thrived on the shop's magic more than on water.

The shop had its own rhythm, a delicate balance between the mundane and the mystical. Travelers, clients, and even the occasional spirit wandered in, drawn by the promise of wishes granted—some simple, others far more complicated. You had seen all kinds: the weary traveler who just wanted safe passage home, the desperate lover seeking a second chance, or the ambitious merchant hoping to change their fortune.

But nothing in the emporium was granted without a cost, and the price wasn’t paid in gold or silver. Every transaction required something far more precious—a wish. Not the kind made on a whim, but a deeply held desire, pulled from the very core of one’s soul.

You would watch as they approached the counter, hands trembling ever so slightly as they revealed their request. Their eyes flickered with doubt as the weight of the exchange settled upon them. Standing before you, they were caught between what they needed and what they were about to give up, realizing that their wish, once surrendered, would be gone forever.

You always asked if they were certain. If they understood the nature of their sacrifice. But the emporium never rejected a payment once it was offered. 

You had become accustomed to the shop’s quirks, trusting its ancient magic to maintain a balance that you could only partly comprehend. It was more than a shop; it was a living entity, guiding not only the customers but you, its keeper, shaping the course of both your lives in subtle, unseen ways.

Everything functioned smoothly, like clockwork—until the day Yunho arrived.

From the moment Yunho stepped into the emporium, his presence unsettled you. There was a calm assurance in the way he carried himself, grounding everything around you. Despite never having met him before, something inside you insisted Yunho wasn’t a stranger. 

You recalled the strange memories that had flooded your senses—the wind whipping around you as you sat in a car with Yunho, the sun illuminating the way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. It felt so real, as if you’d lived that moment before, but then it dissolved into something deeper, something raw. 

The emotions had gripped you before you could react, dragging you under like a riptide. Your knees buckled, and the world tilted, leaving you gasping for air. Yunho was there, of course. Even through the thick haze of your feelings, he kept you steady, his arms the only thing keeping you from crumbling completely.

Even now, the echoes of that moment lingered in your body. You could still feel the weight of the emotions that had passed through you, as if the magic had left an imprint on your soul. 

“Fate has already tied their threads together.”

Your mind raced, trying to grasp Hongjoong and Wooyoung’s conversation. 

What did that mean? What threads? Could the connection you felt—this strange, undeniable pull—be part of some cosmic plan, one that had existed long before you even stepped foot in the emporium?

But how could you accept something so profound when you couldn’t even remember him? The thought haunted you, and yet, deep down, the pull toward Yunho only grew stronger, as if Fate itself refused to let you walk away.

You sighed, taking a long drag from your pipe, leaning back as you watched a few late summer blooms drift down from the skylight’s hanging garden. Their petals fluttered like tiny omens in the gentle breeze. Fall had arrived, and with the change in seasons, the line between the living and the departed would thin, bringing even more travelers and clients from different realms. 

The bell above the door jingled faintly, drawing your attention. You glanced over, catching the sleek, shadowy form slipping through the crack in the door—a flash of fur before it darted out into the evening. You immediately knew who it was.

“Wooyoung,” you called out. The cat froze mid-step, his tail twitching with surprise. Slowly, he turned his head, his onyx eyes gleaming mischievously in the dim light.

“Don’t even try it,” you added, placing your hands on your hips. He blinked at you, feigning innocence, but you weren’t about to let him slink away without answers this time.

The cat stretched lazily, as if he hadn’t just been caught trying to sneak out, then padded toward you with that familiar, too-casual saunter. By the time he reached you, he shifted back into his human form with a dramatic sigh, ruffling his messy hair as if you’d truly inconvenienced him.

“I was just stepping out,” Wooyoung said, giving you that infuriating smirk of his. “Needed some air. It’s stuffy in here with all this—" He waved his hand around vaguely, “—magic.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it. “You are magic, Wooyoung.” Your tone was teasing, playful. “Haven’t you had enough of the outside world and tormenting humans for one lifetime?”

“I’m a cat. Gotta see what the world’s up to,” he shrugged. 

There was a beat of silence, and you took a breath before speaking. “I heard your conversation with Hongjoong last night.”

Wooyoung froze for the briefest moment, his eyes widening just slightly before he masked it with another lazy grin. The shift in his demeanor was quick, but you’d known him long enough to recognize the flicker of panic he tried to bury. 

"It’s not polite to eavesdrop," he teased, his voice light but edged with a subtle wariness.

You weren’t about to let him wiggle his way out of this one. You had seen the way he was squirming, avoiding the real issue, and this time you needed answers. 

"What does fate have to do with me and Yunho?"

His smile faltered, a crack in his usual carefree facade. Wooyoung shifted uneasily, searching for the right words to soften the blow, but knowing there was no easy way out. He could feel your frustration mounting, the tension stretching unbearably thin.

"It’s... well, it’s like this," His voice lowered, and for once, he sounded serious. "Hongjoong thinks you and Yunho are bound together in ways that we don’t fully understand. It’s something that’s deeper and older…something that humans refer to as soulmates."

Soulmates.

It sounded ridiculous, unbelievable. You and Yunho, tied together by fate? He was just a traveler, someone the shop had revealed itself to. There was nothing special about him. 

"How?" you scoffed, shaking your head as if the mere action would dispel the ridiculous notion. "He’s a stranger, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. He shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at you. 

"Well… the thing is you have met him before.” But the thing is... you don’t remember. Because you can’t, Wooyoung wanted to say. 

"What are you talking about? Then why can’t I remember him? What did I forget?"

Your chest tightened. The frustration, the confusion, the pull you’d felt around Yunho ever since he first entered the shop—it all started to transform into something deeper, something more unsettling. It was as if a fog was lifting, revealing shadows of memories you couldn’t quite grasp.

He let out a long breath, rubbing his face. "It’s complicated. There are things...about you, that you don’t remember. That you chose not to remember."

Your mind raced. Memories? With Yunho? The man you barely knew, who had walked into your life like any other traveler? It didn’t make sense. None of this did.

"If I erased him from my life, then maybe I had a reason," you snapped, the words tasting bitter. Wooyoung winced but didn’t argue. 

"Fate doesn’t just disappear because you forget. He’s still tied to you, even if you can’t feel it." He paused, his eyes searching your face, hoping for some sign of understanding. "Maybe it’s why the shop revealed itself to him. It’s fate, pulling you back together."

You could feel the ground slipping from beneath you, your grip on reality loosening with every word he spoke. What Wooyoung was suggesting—soulmates, forgotten love, fate—it sounded like something out of a dream, a fantasy too far removed from the life you knew. 

"Why does it matter if I’m connected to him or not?" you continued, your throat tightening as the question lodged itself there, too painful to speak.

The air grew heavy, thick with tension, as if the walls themselves were reacting to the storm brewing inside you. The shelves rattled, and the shop’s energy pulsed erratically, reflecting the confusion and fear you could no longer keep at bay. The lanterns flickered wildly, casting frantic shadows that danced along the walls, twisting in the growing unease.

You tried to steady your breathing, to calm the chaos within, but your mind raced with unanswered questions, with the gnawing suspicion that Wooyoung was right, and it terrified you. 

Wooyoung’s face fell, the spark of his usual wit dimming into something darker, something almost sorrowful. He shifted uncomfortably again, as though he wished to be anywhere but here, at this moment.

"Because no one wants to see you hurting, Y/N,” His voice was barely above a whisper, thick with regret. "You were in so much pain that you thought forgetting him and becoming the keeper would make it stop."

That name again. Y/N. It echoed in your mind, a foreign weight on your chest. It felt like a name you should know, but it slipped through your grasp. A name tied to a life you no longer remembered. 

"That toy," he continued, "it triggered something, didn’t it? The memories—the emotions—they were too strong. And when you felt that, your magic went unstable. The shop could barely handle it."

You shuddered, the memory of that moment still fresh, still raw. But one question clawed at you, louder than the chaos you’d unleashed.

What had been so unbearable that the only answer was to forget?

“Why is it so cold?” you groaned, bouncing on your toes and rubbing your hands together, trying to get the blood flowing. 

The train station was always drafty, but today it felt like the cold had settled into your bones, refusing to leave. You shivered and glanced around, surprised to see no snow on the ground. It was odd—this time of year usually meant blankets of white everywhere, the world covered in a quiet stillness. Yet now, all you had was the biting wind and a gray sky threatening snow that never seemed to come.

Yunho stood beside you, his breath puffing out in small clouds as he huddled deeper into his coat. He laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked at you. 

“You’re always cold,” he teased, nudging your arm with his elbow. “Should’ve worn more layers.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re practically a furnace,” you grumbled. 

The two of you had decided to take the train home for the holidays after your first semester of university. You were both exhausted—finals had drained whatever energy you had left—but there was excitement in the air as Christmas approached. 

“I’m surprised there’s no snow,” you mused, gazing up at the dull, overcast sky. The clouds hung low, thick and heavy, but still no sign of snowflakes falling. “Feels weird, doesn’t it? Christmas without snow.”

Yunho hummed in agreement beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat as he followed your gaze. “Yeah, it’s like something’s missing. Hopefully, it’ll snow while we’re home.”

His voice was hopeful, and you could see the small spark of excitement in his eyes. Yunho loved snow—it wasn’t just the beauty of it, but the way it brought a sense of stillness and magic to the world. The kind of magic that reminded you both of simpler times, of building snowmen as kids and staying out too long until your fingers were numb.

The next morning, Yunho’s wish came true.

Snow. Fresh, untouched snow covered everything. The rooftops, the streets, the trees—it all glistened under the early morning light, as if the entire world had been dipped in magic overnight. 

This was the moment he’d been waiting for, the moment he hoped for when you both had been standing at the train station, wondering if Christmas would even feel like Christmas without snow. Now, it was here. His wish had come true.

But more than that, he wanted to share this moment with you.

You blinked up at the sky, a few lazy snowflakes still drifting down, landing on your lashes and melting against your skin. Yunho stood beside you, watching the way your eyes lit up, the way you took in the moment like it was something precious. 

The two of you stood there for a while, wordlessly watching the snowfall together. It was the kind of stillness that felt sacred, the kind that only came with the first snow of the season. 

As Yunho glanced at you, his breath caught. You weren’t doing anything special—just standing there, bundled up in your oversized hoodie, your hair slightly messy from sleep, your cheeks flushed from the cold. You weren’t trying to impress anyone, least of all him. You were just you, in the most effortless way, and somehow, that had always been enough.

There was a simplicity to the moment that felt different, more profound than he expected. Last summer, when you’d spent long, sunny days together, he’d thought he understood what he felt for you. He cared about you more than anyone, maybe more than he should’ve let on. It was a love that had grown quietly, steadily, and was beginning to envelop him. 

It was too easy to love you. Too effortless, too natural, as if his heart had always been meant for you. And that’s what made it so dangerous.

He knew that sometimes, love—no matter how powerful—wasn’t enough. The thought of risking what you had—this simple, effortless connection that meant everything to him—for something as unpredictable as love felt like falling into the ocean.

And Yunho wasn’t ready to make the jump. 

He groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples as if that could somehow ease the pounding in his skull. His head felt like it was being split open, a dull, relentless ache that refused to let up. The events of the previous night were a blur—fragments of conversation, too many drinks, and the sinking realization that he’d gone well past his limit.

He’s supposed to head back to Seoul today, back to his life and the steady rhythm of work that usually kept his life in order. But there was no way he could face that right now, not with the amount of alcohol that had been consumed. 

The events of last night came back to him in disjointed, hazy flashes. He remembered the way your fingers brushed against the plush toy, followed by the sudden paling of your face right before you collapsed to the floor. 

Yunho’s heart had nearly stopped at that moment, the world around him crashing into stillness. The usual hum of the emporium faded into nothing, the vibrant colors of the shelves and strange objects blurring into meaningless shapes. 

His legs moved before his mind could catch up, and he was running, sprinting toward you as if the very air had been torn from his lungs. The world shrank, narrowing to the sight of you lifeless in his arms.

"Y/N, stay with me," he whispered, panic thick in his voice as he cradled your unconscious body. It was the same terror he’d felt the day you disappeared, the same helpless, gut-wrenching fear that had kept him awake at night, haunted by the thought that he’d never see you again.

Yunho held you like his entire world depended on it, his arms wrapped tightly around you, desperate and unrelenting. He pressed his forehead against yours, as he cradled your head against his chest, the warmth of your skin barely noticeable as panic surged inside him.

“I’m sorry, just please, please don’t leave me,” he begged, his voice barely holding together. His fingers tightened their grip on you, trembling with the fear that if he let go, even for a second, you’d slip away for good.

He couldn’t lose you, not when he had just found you again.

Then came Wooyoung’s revelation. You had chosen to disappear from his life. It wasn’t an accident, or some cruel twist of fate. You had asked the shop to erase your memories—all of them. He could still hear Wooyoung’s voice, bitter and sharp, recounting the details, but the exact reason why Wooyoung had been so angry at him was lost in the fog of the night.

He remembered the sting—the way the door slammed behind him, the coldness of the night hitting his face as he stood there, dazed, confused and frustrated. You were alive, bound to this strange realm by forces he didn’t fully understand. But worse than that, you had willingly cut him out of your life.

After that, things blurred even more. He’d ended up at a bar, the numbness setting in as he ordered drink after drink, trying to drown the sea of emotions that threatened to consume him. Somewhere along the way, Yeosang had joined him, and Yunho found himself pouring his heart out—his frustrations, his guilt, his failures. He had ranted about the weight of trying to be the good guy while everything around him crumbled.

Now, in the harsh light of day, the weight of it all hit him with a different kind of intensity. His heart felt heavy, and he had no idea where to go from here.

Yunho sat up, staring at his phone as if it might give him the answers he was too afraid to ask for. His thumb hovered over Haewon’s name on the screen, trembling slightly. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say—he didn’t have a plan, only a sinking feeling in his chest that told him he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine. 

The line rang once, then twice. By the third ring, his heart had started racing, the weight of everything he had to confront pressing down on him like a vice. When it went to voicemail, Yunho’s stomach dropped.

“Hey, it’s Haewon! Sorry I missed your call, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon!”

The artificial cheer in her voice made his skin crawl, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. He could almost picture her—smiling, carefree, the version of her that had loved him wholeheartedly. But that wasn’t who she was anymore. That wasn’t who they were.

"Hey..." he finally whispered, “give me a call when you get a chance.” Yunho waited for a beat, as if hoping she might pick up at the last second, but the line remained silent, empty.

“Yunho? Aren’t you getting ready to head back?” His mom’s voice was gentle, but it startled him from his thoughts. She appeared in the doorway, concern etched in the lines of her face. 

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know if I’m going back,” he admitted softly, his voice thick with uncertainty. 

His mom walked in, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, her presence warm and calming. She had always been able to read him better than anyone, even when he was trying his best to hide. Mrs. Jeong didn’t say anything for a moment, just letting the silence hang between them, giving him the space to breathe.

“Tell me more.”

Yunho sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of everything he’d been holding in. It was strange—he felt like a teenager again, venting to his mom about his problems, but this time it felt more suffocating. The future he had thought he wanted, the life he had worked so hard to build, no longer felt like his.

“I’m hungover. I’m miserable. I don’t want to marry Haewon. I’m not happy with my job or where I am in my life. Mingi is my only friend, Yeosang kind of hates me, and Y/N…” He let out a watery chuckle, the sound laced with bitterness. “She’s gone.”

There it was, the truth laid bare—the reality that had been gnawing at him for months, too terrifying to confront. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything he had been trying to ignore.

Mrs. Jeong’s gaze softened as she listened, her heart heavy with a mother’s instinct to protect, but knowing she couldn’t fix this for him. She reached out, placing a hand over his. 

“You’ve been carrying this for a while, haven’t you?” Her voice was soft, laced with a sadness that only came from witnessing the quiet battles of someone you love.

Yunho looked down to their joined hands, his throat tightening. The words he had held back for so long hovered on the edge of his lips, threatening to escape. 

“I thought I could handle it. But—" He paused, his fingers gripping hers a little tighter, his chest heaving as he fought to keep the floodgates closed. 

"I don’t want to keep pretending I’m okay,” he continued, voice cracking slightly. “I’m tired, Mom. Of the job, the engagement, everything. It’s like I’m suffocating, and I don’t know how to breathe anymore.” he replied, quieter now, almost like he was talking to himself. It was the first time he’d admitted it out loud. The fear that had been chaining him to a future he didn’t want.

His mother exhaled softly, her brow furrowing as she absorbed his words. After a moment, she squeezed his hand and spoke gently, her voice calm but firm.

“You’ve always been so considerate. Always thinking of others. But have you thought about what you want? Truly want, not just what you think you should want?”

It wasn’t something Yunho had ever allowed himself to consider fully, and even now, the thought seemed almost too outlandish, too selfish. But the way his mother looked at him, with such understanding, made it feel less frightening, less impossible to confront.

“You’re allowed to want something different, Yunho. You’re allowed to change your mind. You’re allowed to choose yourself.”

Her words struck something within him, unraveling the tightly wound rope of expectations he had tangled himself in for so long. He hesitated, his heart pounding as he dared to voice the question that had haunted him for months.

“So you wouldn’t be upset if I called off the wedding?” His voice was small, almost as if he were afraid the very mention of it might cause everything to collapse around him.

His mother shook her head, her expression soft and reassuring. “Of course not, Yunho. Haewon is lovely, but…” She paused, choosing her words carefully, as she looked at him. “I always felt like she wasn’t the one for you.”

Yunho blinked, surprised by the admission. His mother had never said anything like that before, and in all their talks about the wedding, she had always been supportive, never giving any sign that she might have doubts of her own. 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” he asked, almost incredulous. 

“Because you’re finally listening to yourself. This is your life, not mine, not anyone else’s. It wasn’t my place to tell you how to live, Yunho. I wanted to believe that you knew what was best for you.”

“And if I quit my job?” he asked, testing the waters, anxiety sparking in his voice. 

“Gunho would be thrilled,” she laughed. “You know, he was absolutely livid when you took the finance job over the Tigers. I’ve never seen him so upset with you! He ranted for weeks about how you were wasting your talents behind a desk instead of being out there building the ultimate dream team.”

His mother’s laughter faded, replaced by a more serious expression. “We’ve all had our hopes for you, Yunho. But those were our hopes, not yours. Life’s not a straight line. It’s full of twists and turns. You don’t have to stay on a path that doesn’t feel right anymore.”

There was something comforting about the idea, the notion of stepping away from the path he had chosen, back to something that felt more like home—more like himself. Sitting with his mother, he began to wonder: What if it wasn’t reckless? What if choosing the life he truly wanted wasn’t some wild, selfish fantasy? What if it was okay to dream again?

His mind wandered to you, to the quiet snowfall and how the snowflakes caught on your lashes. He thought of that summer, driving to the beach, the wind in your hair and the sun beaming down on you, like the world itself couldn’t touch you as long as you were together.

He thought of meeting you for the first time at six years old, running across the street and greeting you as if he’d known him your entire life. It was as if he’d found his other half that day, the person who made him feel complete even in his innocence.

But then, more painfully, he thought of meeting you for the first time again. Only this time, you hadn’t known him at all. 

With you, there was no need to fill the silence. Everything felt easy, natural, like you were meant to exist beside each other. You were his best friend, the one person who made him feel like himself. And suddenly, Yunho knew. 

It was you. 

The version of himself that existed when he was with you—that was who he truly was. It was a terrifying realization, but at the same time, it was the most certain thing he’d felt in a long time. You had always been the one constant in his life, the one person who made everything feel okay, even when it wasn’t.

And he didn’t want to lose that. He didn’t want to lose you.

He wanted a future with you.

Yunho swallowed, his pulse quickening, but for the first time in what felt like forever, his mind was clear. 

“I think…” he began, his voice steady, resolute, “I know where I want to go from here.”

Pushing open the door, the familiar chime rang through the shop. It was empty, save for you, and Yunho’s breath caught when he saw you standing behind the counter, bathed in the glow of fading daylight. 

He glanced over at you, watching the way you moved, how you seemed so different and yet so familiar. The person standing in front of him was still you, the same person he’d known since childhood. The memories from childhood rushed back again—the snow, the summer sun, the first time you played baseball together. It all made sense now, in ways it never had before.

“Yunho,” you greeted, your voice carrying a warmth as you lifted your hand with a graceful flick. The scroll hovering beside you shimmered for a moment, then dissolved into the air, disappearing as if it had never existed. 

“How are you feeling?” Yunho asked quietly. There was something boyish, almost shy, in the way he looked at you, like he was a kid again, standing in front of his crush, hoping for something, anything, that would tell him he was making the right choice.

“Better. Thank you for being here the other night. It seems like you were a big help to Wooyoung.”

"I'm glad to hear that," he murmured, his voice soft as his gaze lingered on you, his eyes softening as if he were seeing you for the first time all over again. There was a quiet admiration that he couldn’t quite hide, no matter how hard he tried to keep his emotions in check.

"I uh…" he hesitated, his eyes flickered away for a moment, as if searching for courage in the silence between you, “I’m leaving for Seoul. Just to take care of some things. I wanted to see you before I left.”

You tilted your head, curiosity lighting up your eyes, the corners of your lips lifting in that familiar way that made his heart stutter. A playful yet gentle hum escaped your lips. 

“Oh? And why’s that?”

Your question hung in the air, teasing him, pulling at the tangled mess of feelings he'd tried to bury for so long. He looked at you, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he struggled to find the right response. 

“I—” he started, but his voice faltered. His pulse quickened, and for a moment, he felt completely exposed. “I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

The air around you seemed to still, the gravity of his admission settling like dust in the corners of the emporium. The idea of leaving felt wrong to him, and yet it was inevitable, something he had to do. 

Your eyes softened with understanding, feeling more like home than any place he could go. Something in your gaze recognized him, sensing the invisible thread that tied you together. 

“No matter where you are,” you said quietly, your voice carrying the same calm assurance that had always soothed him, “the emporium will always be within reach. As will I.”

The words were simple, yet they held a promise—a promise that went beyond physical space or memory. The emporium was never bound by the ordinary rules of the world, and neither, it seemed, were you. Your small, understanding smile made Yunho feel that, despite the uncertainty, everything would be okay.

“Besides,” you continued, a playful glint flickering in your eyes, “I can always ask Wooyoung to lend a helping hand. He knows the way.”

“That cat does nothing but bully me,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, recalling how Wooyoung had made him a target of mischief.

Your laugh filled the space between you, a sound that seemed to chase away the heaviness for just a moment. Though Yunho tried to maintain his frown, the corners of his lips betrayed him, lifting into a reluctant smile. 

Even though you didn’t remember him, it didn’t matter. There was something deeper between you, something unshakeable. And that, in its own way, gave him the strength he needed to leave.

You stepped forward, that invisible thread that had always seemed to exist between you tugged at your heart, drawing you toward him. It was a connection that transcended words, possibly even space and time. Yunho’s eyes lingered on you, their quiet intensity making your heart skip a beat.

“The next time I come into the shop,” he began, his voice low, “I’ll be ready to make my wish.”

You searched his face, trying to read the depths of what he meant, but all you found was that same gentle fervor staring back at you. 

“You’ve thought about it?”

“I have,” he admitted. “With everything that’s happening, I think I finally know what I want.”

The weight of his words settled between you like a promise. Whatever his wish was, it wasn’t something to be rushed—it belonged to the future, a time when he was ready to claim it. And somehow, you understood that.

“I’ll be waiting,” you whispered, though you knew Yunho heard it.

As he turned to leave, a sudden thought gripped you, pulling you back from the brink of your goodbye. “Yunho… before you leave…”

He froze at the sound of his name on your lips, his heart fluttering. Every breath, every glance, vibrated with something unspoken, something powerful.

“Who are you?” you asked, your voice soft, tentative. “To me?”

<< iii | v >>

taglist: @babymbbatinygirl @intowxnderland @hwasa28 @thedistractedwriter @beabatiny @lovelyglares @spenceatiny18 @tiny-apocalypse @sunnysidesins @heyitsmetonid @jwone @laurenwidjaja @potatos-on-clouds @xuchiya @syubseokie

[sunnyaalisse]

Wanna know how to manage anxiety effectively? (I'm a psychologist) Formulate your anxious thoughts in a form of "What Will I Do if X happens?" and then answer as best as you can. You will find that there are 4 main types of situations your anxiety might be asking about: 1) nonsensical, unlikely, useless (WWID if I get kidnapped by a UFO?) 2) rational, predictable (WWID if I get a bad grade?) 3) rational, unpredictable (WWID if I go to a new job and something bad happens?) 4) unpredictable and uncontrolled (WWID if I get attacked on my way home?) Here's how to deal with each type: 1) unlikely, useless, nonsensical? answer it like the person who's asking you this question is a 13 year old child who's trying to annoy you. "that would suck, Timmy, but it sure would make a cool story that I would tell to anybody who would listen if I survived" 2) rational, predictable? make a date with this question. find time to sit down and legitimately think of a plan on what you're going to do. "I'll go talk to the teacher, ask what I can do to improve my grade, then I'll talk to my friends and ask them to explain the topic to me, then I'll talk to my parents and explain the situation if they're interested in hearing about it" 3) rational, unpredictable? you don't have to answer it in a detailed way, just decide on the first few things you will realistically do in any sort of distressful situation. "I'll call my friend and tell them about my situation, then I'll buy myself some ice-cream and figure out my next steps with the help of relevant people, google and determination." 4) uncontrolled? plan for what happens after the part you can't control, once you're in charge again. "I'll call the police, I know where the nearest hospital is, I have my friend's numbers memorised so I'll call them, either way I'll deal with whatever happens once I'm in control" anxiety related to the events that already happened (I said "you too" to the waiter who said "have a good meal") truly means to ask about either the consequences (what if now they think I'm dumb?) or the repeating of the situation (what if I do it again?). you can still reformulate these questions the same way: "WWID if they treat me like I'm stupid next time I'm there?" and "WWID if I say the same thing again, how can I make it charming?" or "WWID to avoid repeating the same situation again, what can I say instead?" anxiety is a mechanism that means to fill the gaps in a person's perception of their future, it seeks clarity, stability, normalcy and control. It doesn't need to clarify IF the situation will happen, it needs to clarify how the situation will be DEALT WITH if it does happen. unanswered "what will I do if..." questions tend to become a broken record because the need for clarity is not fulfilled. more often than not if the needs for clarity and normalcy are fulfilled, anxiety lets up. even questions like "WWID if I die?" can be answered: "if there's an afterlife I'll try to punch god" or "I'll ask if they have soda here" or "if there's no afterlife I'll do nothing, but the world will go on without me, complex, busy and beautiful" also, since anxiety can be caused by physical factors like exhaustion and overuse of caffeine, dealing with these factors could be very helpful. this type of anxiety doesn't come from the mind, it comes from the body, so grilling yourself with questions won't help in this case. rest, nourishment and sleep will do a lot of good though.

[wannabanauthor]

I want a slow burn BuckTommy fanfic.

And I mean slow burn.

I want them hanging out, grabbing a beer, going to the movies, and spending time with Eddie.

Then one day, Eddie asks Buck if he can drop something off to him at Tommy’s house. Buck knocks on the door when he gets there and is greeted by a shirtless Tommy.

Tommy says they’re sparring in Muay Thai, and Buck’s like “can I watch?” And then spends the entire time salivating over Tommy without knowing what he was feeling.

Buck convinces himself that he’s only admiring Tommy’s body because Buck is also a fitness enthusiast.

Then Eddie leaves, and Buck barely notices because he’s staring at Tommy.

Tommy is not an idiot. He knows when another guy is checking him out, but he thinks it’s better to let Buck figure it out on his own.

Buck has different plans though. He takes off his shirt and is like “teach me Muay Thai”.

Now Tommy is the one staring. Maybe he starts asking Buck about his tattoos and even touched one and asks if it hurt to get them, meanwhile Buck has to restrain a moan in his throat.

Tommy just raises an eyebrow and continues asking about the tattoos. Then they do some light Muay Thai training, and Buck takes a cold shower when he gets home.

He has a wet dream about Tommy that night, and he still doesn’t know what to do because he’s not into men, right? Everyone makes a strangled sound when a hot guy with a great body touches them, right? He also finds himself with an erection that refuses to go away. So he gets himself off, and near the end Tommy pops into his mind, and he comes harder than he ever has in his life.

A few days later, Buck’s leg starts acting up, so Eddie asks Tommy to check on Buck and see if he needs anything while Eddie has to work.

Tommy comes over with food and entertainment to take Buck’s mind off the pain. Buck is happy and grateful, and is also a spoiled princess and puts his legs on Tommy’s lap, and Tommy gives him a leg massage. To both legs. Maybe it turns into a full body massage to help Buck relax.

Buck is practically in love but doesn’t know how to deal with or even properly acknowledge his feelings.

Later on during a shift, Tommy and Buck get called to the same accident site. They work really well together, and the people they save tell Buck that his boyfriend is very good at his job, and he’s like “my what now?”

Tommy pretends not to hear anything, but he’s quickly losing control of patience and willpower. He wants to make a move so badly, but he doesn’t want to freak Buck out.

So one night, Buck is elbow deep in Tommy’s social media profile and comes across an old post of Tommy kissing another man and referring to him as boyfriend. When I say elbow deep, I mean he’s 3 years into Tommy’s post history.

Seeing Tommy with another guy makes Buck feel angry, but he refuses to acknowledge why. Until he sees Tommy and accidentally confronts him.

Like maybe they’re sitting on a couch, Tommy takes a swig of his favorite craft beer that Buck bought him, and Buck just blurts out “are you gay?”

Tommy doesn’t even choke in surprise. He just says yep nonchalantly.

And then…stay tuned for the next update. This might be a summary fic (my term for a fanfic that’s more an in depth summary rather than actual fleshed out fic).

I want to see how long I can go on without having them kiss. I want longing and yearning and sleepless nights. Wait, omg, what if there’s only one bed in their hotel room in Vegas. What if they get drunk and accidentally get married? They try to get it annulled, but Buck’s like “wait a minute, we get a tax break” and Tommy has to be like “I think that’s called fraud.”

There are so many ways I can drag this out.

[alpaca-clouds]

Solarpunk Game Ideas: CRPGs

Here I go on with my ideas for Indie Solarpunk games, that are not some sort of building sim or farming sim - and of course I cannot do this without mentioning CRPGs.

Mind you, despite what you might think given that over the course of the last year I have barely played anything but a certain CRPG (BG3), CRPGs are actually not really a genre of game I am super into, even though some of my favorite games are CRPGs. But as a genre in general I usually like faster paced games a lot more. It is just that when I hyperfocus on something that usually is a result of me getting obsessed with a character from it - and that is more likely to happen with a CRPG than with a metroidvania.

But how to do a Solarpunk CRPG?

The Issue:

Look, there really are not any CRPGs right now that are in any way Solarpunk. And I would argue this goes again back to the issue that people struggle with telling stories within a Solarpunk setting, as they are too set in the idea that a) Solarpunk needs to be an utopian setting (or a setting that pretends to be utopian) and b) that utopian settings will not allow for any conflict whatsoever. Additionally there is of course also the issue that most CRPGs do involve violence in form of fighting, which is what a lot of people struggle with - even though some amazing indie games like Disco Elysium have shown very well, that you can do a CRPG without a combat system.

So, let's go over some ideas for Solarpunk CRPGs.

Idea #1: Off-Brand Princess Mononoke

If you follow me for any time, you might know that to me there is no movie or piece of media that is more Solarpunk than Princess Mononoke. And thankfully we can easily build a sort of CRPG around it, either with a similar historical setting or just a fullon fantasy setting. Because remember: Solarpunk does not need to be Science Fiction!

No matter whether you go with a historical setting or just a full-on fantasy setting, the idea is fairly easy: The player character has a magical problem and they need the help of some sort of spirits. As they travel to the place of the spirit, they find out that the spirits are in a war with some group of humans, that are encroaching of the home of the spirits, because they try to access some sort of ressources, driving the spirits nearly to extinction. The player would have the choice in the end which side to join - or whether they will try to broker peace between spirits and humans.

Bonus: You'd have several choices how to play the game - but it is not a clear cut "good" and "evil", especially when the humans might have good reasons to need the ressource.

Idea #2: A SciFi Conspiracy

This idea is very much for a somewhat shorter game. Think a bit more like "Shadowrun Returns". Something that has more like 15 to 20 minutes of a runtime.

We go with the idea I brought up in one of the other ideas before: We have a Solarpunk world, that runs on mainly anarchist principles, and there are some arguments going about over some of the security mechanisms. (Anarchy can after all not properly work, if some people have weapons and others don't have - but you cannot undo the existence of weapons.) Our main character is part of some security force, that mostly are just trained to deescalate situations, but are in some cases allowed to use force.

And when a group of pro-capitalists or maybe even actual fascists start a conspiracy to take over the government, and they already have some co-conspirators in all positions. And the main characters need to navigate this with a mixture of diplomacy and violence, with the player getting a fairly good influence on how this plays out.

Idea #3: A Natural Disaster

Let me take one approach, that is inspired by one of the most Solarpunk movies, that is not by Ghibli: Misaki no Mayogai. That movie takes place after the Tohoku earthquake and is very much about mutual aid in the community.

And here is the thing: No, CRPGs do not need to have combat. So this is an idea for a CRPG without combat. We have a natural disaster of some sort. Honestly it does not matter. An earthquake, a flood, a vulcano... Can be anything. It just did destroy a lot of stuff in a big area. And the game is very much about rebuilding after this disaster, about people helping each other through mutual aid, and then building something better from it. It could feature a society going full Solarpunk if you want to (like a positive post-apocalypse) or just something getting a bit better. Build back better and such.

And if you are interested in creative Solarpunk endeavors, I would love to invite you into the Solarpunk Creatives community! :)

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Love Sea Excerpt: Tongrak and Mahasamut's First Time (Ch 5: The Price I Paid)

"Haha," Mahasamut couldn't help but chuckle.

He felt crazy watching someone work, especially since that person wasn't even acknowledging him.

I gave him such a wonderful service, and he didn't even like it. That hurts.

Mahasamut thought, and laughed out loud.

"Quiet, I'm working."

But then, the man who'd been silent for so long spoke calmly without even turning to look at him. The sound of the keyboard continued, causing Mahasamut to pause mid-laugh, even as his lips curled into a wide smile.

He's quite charming in his working mode.

The still, solemn demeanor and focus that seemed to belong to a completely different person only piqued his interest further, making him want to see more of Tongrak's emotions. But he figured he should probably keep quiet if he didn't want to be kicked out of the room.

The thought made his sharp eyes fixate on the fair neck reddening from sunburn, the fair skin smeared with sand from the beach. But the man himself didn't seem to care. Perhaps only he couldn't help but think about how he wanted to bite into that man's neck, and the taste that he'd savored earlier confirmed just how sweet that fair skin was.

Looking any longer might not be a good idea.

It looked like his VIP guest was alright. He was in a hurry to get back to work and leave his little buddy to wither away. Mahasamut shrugged and looked down at his own body, which was initially soaked with seawater but now almost dry, except for the sand covering him. He decided to get up and head to the bathroom.

Just a quick rinse. The room's owner probably wouldn't mind.

---

---

Mahasamut had barely disappeared into the bathroom when the sound of water hitting the tiled floor echoed out. However, what brought the man in front of the screen back to reality wasn't the sound of water, but the last sentence he typed to finish the chapter he'd left.

He'd solved the problem of how to describe the love in this story.

"Phew," and with that, Tongrak let out a sigh of relief.

While the famous writer Tongrak had many romantic works, few knew that he struggled with writing love scenes, and his solution to the problem was... having sex.

Sometimes, it couldn't be solved with just a warm embrace.

But most of the time, that wasn't very effective. Connor was one of the people whose embrace felt warm to Tongrak, but the problem was that he already had a boyfriend. When stuck or when he couldn't grasp the concept of warmth or love, he'd just go to his best friend, snuggle into his embrace, and some ideas would start to flow. But now, that was no longer an option.

And yes, one of the reasons he agreed to go to this island was because... he was tired of the men in the city.

It was so dull that he thought of changing the scenery for his work.

And then he met...

Tongrak turned to glance at the slightly ajar bathroom door.

After completely ignoring the other person in the room, Tongrak saved his work and shut down his laptop. From slow steps, his pace quickened. He pushed the bathroom door open with force and saw a robust, naked figure standing under the rain shower. Thick, wet hair clung to his cheeks, and one hand braced against the wall while the other cradled... his substantially sized shaft.

As those sharp, intense eyes met him, the cascading water made the man look even more dominant, magnifying his dangerous allure.

The man's expression shifted from fierce to his usual teasing smirk.

Mahasamut didn't even care that Tongrak was now inspecting his impressive lower half.

Tongrak secretly thought the guy must be well-endowed, but he hadn't expected it to be this impressive.Whether it was the size or the shape, the veins that stood out from arousal, it was all something he wanted to look at.

"If you keep staring like that, I'm going to start charging," came the teasing voice, drawing honey-colored eyes back to meet his gaze.

Mahasamut wasn't shy about showing off his body.

The guy was so confident that it was almost sickening.

"Usually, when the money's in, you can consider it done. I already gave you a service, and yet here you are, watching my body for free. I'm running at a loss here..."

Thud!

Tongrak didn't wait for the man to finish speaking. His lead body pushed the broad chest until it hit the wall, also bringing himself under the shower. The slender frame pressed close to the broad chest, allowing the sensitive part beneath his pants to press against the hot flesh, feeling the heat between them, and then...

Tongrak swiftly captured Mahasamut's neck and kissed him fiercely.

A tongue licked teasingly over the irritating lips. Tongrak bit down on the lower lip hard enough to almost taste blood. After that, the pretty one pulled back to look into his eyes.

"How much?"

"..."

Mahasamut remained silent. The only sound was that of water droplets hitting the tiled floor.

"How much for letting me see your body just now?"

"..."

"And how much to sleep with you?"

"..."

"How much would it cost for you to take me?"

"..."

Tongrak then asked the final question.

"So, what's your price if I want to buy you?"

Their gazes locked, neither willing to back down.

Strangely, this time, Tongrak didn't have a hint of his usual complaining demeanor. There was only a serious look in his eyes, like a businessman negotiating a deal.

Yet, this seriousness was... sexy.

The once arrogant man was now eagerly seeking an answer to how much it'd cost to be 'taken'.

"... I'm not cheap, you know." Mahasamut finally replied after a long stare, and that turned the serious businessman into a man of passion.

"Money won't be a problem."

At Tongrak's words, it wasn't just one of them who moved first, but both of them closed the distance as if they'd been waiting for this moment all along.

Lips crushed and ground against each other.

Bodies moved close, leaving no space between them.

Hands intertwined, caressed, and stroked each other without restraint.

It was Mahasamut's turn to flip Tongrak's body, pressing him against the wall while his hot mouth continued to suck hungrily and nip. His tongue invaded deeply, tormenting the other without pause for breath, sweeping and pursuing, attacking and pressing until clear liquid seeped and smeared at the corners of their mouths. The sound of their sweet exchange echoed loudly.

The big man pulled away briefly to strip Tongrak's shirt while Tongrak himself quickly discarded his pants with a swift flick.

"Ah, ha... oh, that's good... so good..."

With just a large hand scooping up the pale leg to bring their lower bodies into close contact, Tongrak moaned in satisfaction. He enjoyed the sensation of his sensitive parts rubbing against the larger, hotter area, the scorching heat nearly burning his flesh at the lower abdomen. He liked it so much that he wanted to pull that large part into his mouth.

But today, Mahasamut had other ideas.

"Hold this for me."

Mahasamut grasped Tongrak's hand, pulling it to hold the heated flesh that throbbed between them. Tongrak complied easily, but a single hand wasn't enough to contain them both. Both hands worked together to gather their moist parts, pressing his palm against the visibly larger and longer part of Mahasamut. His hips moved with desire, hot breaths touching the broad chest.

Wide eyes shimmered with emotion, and skin flushed from pale to a spreading red that reached the ears. Now, a hot tongue traced and nipped at his fair skin.

"Ah! You really like to bite, huh? Were you a dog in a past life or something?"

It was then that the larger man used his free hand to grasp the slender neck, tilting the flushing face upward, allowing him to bury his face into the crook of a fair neck. He licked at the marks left by previous bites, eliciting a hoarse moan from Tongrak, who couldn't help but ask, even as he was nearly delirious with... excitement.

He liked it when Mahasamut did this to him, bit him like this, nipped him like this.

It wasn't so violent that it hurt, but it was enough to make his body scream with pleasure.

Mahasamut's gaze flickered for a moment, and Tongrak was certain he saw a smirk at the corner of his mouth. Then...

"Woof."

The big man let out a sound that should have been endearing, but it made Tongrak cry out as a tingling sensation spread through him.

The giant dog, burying its face against the slender chest with just the right amount of muscle, licked the tender nipple that stood erect with a flick of his tongue as if savoring a delicious sweet.

Mahasamut alternated between biting and smoothing with licks, repeating the motion until the area felt numb and swollen, the nipples turning a bright red. The voice grew higher with every moan, hips moving, calling for their flesh to rub together.

Now, it was impossible to tell whose slick fluid filled the palm of Tongrak's hand.

"Mahasamut, suck, suck more, ugh, ah, that's good."

Since he'd already given in, why hide his desires any longer?

When Tongrak played with himself, he enjoyed teasing his nipples hard while slipping a fingertip into his behind, stimulating both above and below. Although it was exceedingly rare for him to be without a partner, what he truly relished was the way Mahasamut would incessantly suck and pull at his nipples as if insatiable.

It was a delicious torment, almost maddeningly good.

Meanwhile, a large hand caressed his back, kneading the soft flesh until fingertips sank into the smooth skin, a touch that made the more prominent man want to squeeze even harder.

"Ah..."

If it were just about thoughts, it wouldn't be Mahasamut. As soon as those sharp eyes saw the person in his embrace pushing his body against him, the adorable body trying to grind him like an animal in heat, the beautiful face flushed red, breathing heavily, sweat glistening across the forehead, he too moved the hand that wasn't busy to turn off the water and back to firmly clench the round buttocks.

It was enough to make Tongrak moan with a trembling voice.

"Play with my insides... do it..."

Just the touch of a fingertip teasing the tender passage he'd been playing with earlier caused it to clench, and the person in his embrace begged with a quivering voice, eyes moist as they looked up at him until...

"Uhh..." their lips met with precise heat.

A fervent kiss that escalated the passion to its peak while the adorable person before him pleaded even more.

"Uhh..."

Mahasamut felt the trembling moan in the other's mouth as soon as his fingertip teased the sweet passage. The suction that seemed to invite him in nearly drove him wild, unable to resist until...

His middle finger slid in as the person in his embrace widened his eyes, writhing, gasping for air close to his lips.

Now, Mahasamut wasn't just growling but roaring.

Who gave your body permission to be this sexy, Mr. Writer?!

Now the soft walls were clenching around his long finger, the searing heat gripping tightly, sucking eagerly just like the person in his embrace, as the long finger curled inward, seeking the spot that made the more petit person in his arms twitch.

"Ah, ahh, uhh, ugh..."

As soon as his lips were free, Tongrak let out a trembling moan, his eyes tightly shut, indulging in the sensation of the probing touch moving in and out of his passage.

Seeing that Tongrak could handle it, a second finger soon followed.

"You are really something," Mahasamut growled.

"Why, am I... sexy... or something...?"

The sexy one squinted his eyes open and licked his own lips fervently, his gaze narrowing, but only for a moment, as the two long fingers stirring inside him that initially stuck close together were now... parting.

"Ah, ah, don't, don't- Mahasamut-ah, ah!"

Damn it!

There were a few times when Mahasamut lost his patience, especially with the pretty man before him, biting his lips and moaning unintelligibly, was clenching around his fingers, forcing him to pull his hand out of that soft channel in one swift motion. He flipped the smooth body to face the wall, his strong knees pushing the slender legs to spread wide.

"Put it in!"

Meanwhile, the small body cried out passionately for the loss of the hot part, disliking the sudden emptiness.

He liked how Mahasamut spread his fingers, liked the thrilling discomfort, liked the tightness that almost split him open, liked the long fingers reaching spots he couldn't reach himself. It was enough to make him beg for the other person to tease his sensitive passage once more.

"!"

But at the sound of his plea, Mahasamut would forcefully push three fingers in all at once. It was fierce, raw, merciless to the point of taking Tongrak's breath away. His legs trembled, his hands braced against the wall, his breaths coming in short gasps, unable to contain the rising desire that edged him to the brink.

"Ah, ahh!"

The long fingers almost completely withdrew, then... slammed back in.

Each time, they hammered insistently at that sensitive spot, bringing him close to the edge, his tender part stubbornly releasing drops of fluid.

Mahasamut couldn't take it anymore either.

He wanted to thrust himself into that sweet, inviting hole so badly.

"Condom."

"Hah... in the bag."

No need for further questions. They understood each other well, and then...

Mahasamut yanked Tongrak's arm, pulling him back into the bedroom, pushing the smooth body to fall onto the bed while he himself walked over to the open suitcase.

"The front one," Tongrak called out with a trembling voice.

The tall figure took only a few seconds to find the box of condoms that had... every size imaginable.

Mahasamut quickly grabbed one that fit him, but as soon as he turned back...

He felt the urge to spank a petite body.

Who'd have thought that Mr. Perfect, someone like Tongrak, would be on all fours on the bed, legs spread wide, hands bracing against the soft mattress, exposing every inch of his bare body, even the twitching tightness that was eagerly awaiting?

"Hurry, Mahasamut, hurry," the slender figure urged with a quivering, breathy voice, legs spreading even wider.

Smack!

"Did you just spank... Ahhh!"

Tongrak was about to curse in shock when suddenly, a large hand slapped his soft buttocks. But before he could finish his sentence, the sting from the slap was nothing compared to the intense heat that was pushing in, making him feel unbearably full, almost bursting at his very core.

"Wait!! Wait! You're too big, you... ugh!"

The deep penetration brought tears to the brink of his eyes. His fair hands reached for the strong thighs in an attempt to restrain, but it only spurred the larger man to thrust deeper, causing Tongrak to clutch the sheets, his face digging into the soft mattress, his breaths echoing throughout the room.

It was so tight.

"Can you take it?"

"I don't know, Mahasamut. I don't know, ah!"

At this point, he knew nothing, his mind was completely blank.

But when Mahasamut moved...

"!"

A scream tore from Tongrak's throat at full volume.

The initial pain from the size was immense, but it also meant there wasn't an inch left untouched, not a space left unfilled. Every craving, every tingling sensation shot straight through his chest with each hot thrust... deep... into the deepest part.

"Ah, ugh, huuuh!"

Now, within the luxurious room, there were only the moans and low growls of two men, mingling with the raw sound of flesh against flesh in a strong rhythm. The temperature in the room soared, rendering the air conditioning useless, but why would Mahasamut care when the sight before him was far more captivating?

The stark white expanse of a handsome man's back stretched out before him, beads of sweat seeping out until the hair at the nape of his neck was damp against the smooth skin. Large hands pressed into that back, urging the other to let himself fall flat against the bed, with only the beautiful arch of his hips raised high, allowing him to indulge his desires.

It was so enticing that Mahasamut leaned down to lick the sweat at that smooth neck, something he had longed to do.

"Ugh!"

"Huh, ugh!"

As the hips met each thrust with full force, the soft buttocks pressed tightly against his abdomen. He could feel the intense twitching of the person beneath him, who jerked violently. Fair hands reached out to grasp his thighs and clung tightly, hips tilting higher, while his one large hand braced against the headboard, the other reaching to cradle the lovely, soaked part that signaled that Tongrak... had already climaxed.

"Hah, hah."

The person in his embrace gasped, his body trembling as if consciousness was slipping away in the aftermath of reaching heaven.

Then, a flushed face turned to look at him through tears, eyes still adrift in the blissful moment. This prompted him not to tease Tongrak with a 'You finish so easily, don't you?' Instead, he kissed him to soothe and comfort him.

It seemed Tongrak himself hadn't expected to finish so easily.

"Ah, ugh."

Warm lips pressed against a gentle, comforting kiss, contrasting with the lower body's movements that quickened, urging him on to match the rhythm of the beauty who'd reached the climax before him. And that taught the southern man something new.

With a face contorted in pleasure, a throat filled with moans, and a body twitching below, this person enjoyed him plunging deep even after cumming.

Damn!

The larger man growled low in his throat, eyes blazing with passion. This was almost maddening, but the discovery only made him more curious.

How to kiss and touch to make this person melt in his embrace?

That was the thought of the one thrusting his body hard, hands now shifting to lock around Tongrak's shoulders, pulling him close, listening to the sweet moans whispered close to his cheek, and that...

Mahasamut felt the tension, his hands clenched tight, his body taught with strain, and then... he released.

Mahasamut shut his eyes, pulling himself back from the blissful sensation he'd just experienced. When he opened them again, he intended to press a kiss onto those beautifully colored lips.

"If you're done, then take it out."

But before he could act on his desire, Tongrak raised a hand to cover his mouth, panting slightly but... with a cold tone in his voice.

"I need to get back to work. If you're done, then take that thing out already."

The gesture made Mahasamut want to smack the older man once or twice.

Geez... Just moments ago, he was begging for me, and now that it's over, I'm being kicked to the curb.

Part of him wanted to tease a little, but maybe because he'd already gotten more than he expected today, the tall figure clenched his teeth and slowly pulled himself away, looking at the trembling face that was still affected by the fiction that had occurred.

"As you command."

What else could he say when his employer had given the order?

"Do I have to leave right now?"

"Yes, why would you stick around after you're finished? You can go."

"Kicking me out right after we're done, huh?" The big man chuckled.

Tongrak didn't seem to care. As soon as he collapsed onto the bed, he pulled the blanket over himself and commanded, "Take the condom and throw it outside, then lock the door."

"No goodbye hug?"

"Get out."

When teased, Tongrak looked up with a stern voice, making the other laugh softly. He dressed in his sandy clothes from the bathroom and returned with the evidence of their encounter. His sharp eyes glanced at the man lying in the middle of the bed, but before leaving...

"Do you want me to clean up? I have long fingers, you know."

That's when Tongrak threw a pillow at him, still not lifting his head from the thick blanket.

"I told you to get out!"

"Okay, okay, see you tomorrow."

Mahasamut willingly left the room, making sure to lock the door behind him.

When he heard the door close and the lock click, the person on the bed lifted his head again, revealing a flushed face, moist eyes, and messy hair that could only be described as sexy. And the handsome man cursed to himself...

"Damn it Rak, how could you let him do something like that?!"

As his senses returned, he remembered everything he'd said, and more importantly...

"That was damn good."

The sex this time around was exceptional, easily ranking in the top three experiences of his life. It was so good that he'd almost choked to death trying to suppress the desire for another round. Thinking back on what had happened, he brought his hands up to cover his face.

I think I'm in trouble.

---

---

Content Note:

Tongrak demands Mahasamut take the used condom and throw it away in an outside bin. This is a reference to the events of Love Sand.

Khom is confronted by a homophobic former classmate named Jun. Jun had already run afowl of Connor and Khom, but he makes inquiries among the locals who work at the resort and learns that Connor's trash has been full of used condoms, and Khom had been staying with him most nights.

After Connor leaves the island, Jun attacks Khom in front of a crowded market. He loudly outs Khom as gay, a secret Khom religiously kept from everyone, including his family. Jun then beats Khom half to death, with the crowd only standing there watching, some making faces at Khom.

Mahasamut finds Khom in the hospital and helps him flee to a college dorm Khom has on the mainland. He also tracks down Jun and beats him severely, then forces him to crawl to Khom's parents and beg forgiveness.

Tongrak is very aware of what Khom has gone through, and in the Love Sea show as well as novel, you see many gestures by Tongrak to obscure or hide his sexual relationship with Mahasamut, such as when he tells Mahasamut to throw the used condom away in a public trash can. He knows using the in-room trashbin was what led to Khom's attack.

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 15

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: Chan has thought up a punishment for you that doesn't really help your mental state; someone thinks of a plan to help.

chapter warnings: smut! unprotected sex

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings.

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 

That’s the sound you get accustomed to a few times throughout the day. It’s Chan, unlocking the door to let himself in. Every time he brings in a tray of food for the two of you to eat, and most of the time you pick at it but you can’t find too much of an appetite. 

The first few times, you don’t talk to Chan at all. You’re completely silent, looking out at the forest through the barred window. Occasionally you would watch his mannerisms or react when he moves something a little bit too loud. Other than that, you make it a point not to speak at all. That’s how it started, at least. 

Each time a few hours pass in total isolation, you slowly become more and more stir crazy. Mostly, you look out the window. Sometimes, you do situps and pushups or practice the self-defense exercises that Changbin and Felix had taught you until exhaustion. You take a few naps. You take a shower. You finish the latest book that Hyunjin let you borrow. Chan visits you for dinner. You do not speak with him, eat your meal in silence, and watch as he leaves. You go to sleep for the night with an empty, hollow and rotting sensation in your chest that you have never experienced before. It might be anger directed towards Chan, but also an empty feeling knowing that you are unable to see Felix, who is in the same house as you. You wonder if he feels the same as you right now. 

Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 

You wake up to the sound of Chan unlocking your door in the morning with breakfast. You break your silent treatment, finally, though probably more out of boredom than anything else. You only respond to his small talk, tell him that the food is alright. 

The longer increments of time that would pass, the more anger you would find bubbling in your chest. 

“Do you really expect to keep me locked here forever?” you snap at one point. You have just finished rereading The Stranger by Albert Camus for the third time. “You know that’s how people start to lose their minds? Is that what this is? A torture device? Or is it still a sick, twisted ploy to get me to fall in love with you?” you walk around the room, pacing. Your hands are strung through your hair haphazardly as you let out a laugh. “Some sort of Stockholm syndrome to the extreme? You already fucking tried that, Chan! I’m stuck in this house with you, I can’t leave, and it didn’t work. What is your plan here?”

He blinks at you, sitting on your bed and crossing his arms across his chest. “I don’t know.” 

“You… you don’t know?” 

He chuckles and you feel your blood begin to boil. “Well, I mean, I don’t know how long I plan to keep you here. At least until the Heeseung drama boils down. Until I feel confident that Felix is just as broken down about this as you are? I mean, it’s the point of a punishment, yeah?” He runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a sigh. “Obviously I know you aren’t going to fall in love with me right now, not like this, yeah? But the thought of you and Felix, it’s so wrong, y’know? So I gotta nip it in the bud.” 

You blink away a tear but wipe it away quicker than he can see. You won’t give him the satisfaction of letting him see you cry. 

“I hate you,” you spit. When Chan stands, he closes the distance between the two of you. He swipes a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You might want to watch your mouth for now, especially when you’re the one who’s not in control,” he coos. “If you want to start getting your privileges back, you might want to consider upping the sweet talk.” He leaves as a chill racks through your body and the door slams shut, lock clicking into place behind him. 

You’re not quite sure about *sweet talking*, per say, but you suppose you could calm it down with Chan for now in order to get things back to the way they were. It’s really hard, with the way your anger bubbles every time he enters the room, every additional hour that passes. You start to feel delirious, depressed with nothing much to do, sleeping far too much and eating far too little. 

The flowers start to wilt. 

The flowers that Chan had given you for your date. You don’t even know how long ago that was at this point, feeling a bit too disoriented. You watch over days as the petals start to turn brown, curling up into themselves and falling to the floor. It’s only once every flower has finally turned to black that you convince Chan to let you leave your room. 

It’s only to Hyunjin’s room that he lets you go at first. He supervises your visit. You sit on the corner of Hyunjin’s bed and you sit and talk, nodding politely when he speaks. He updates you on Seungmin’s condition, shows you his newest painting (which is stunning beyond belief), and talks about his latest venture to the bookstore. It’s more than he’s ever talked to you at once, and you’re sure he’s doing it because he knows the effects that the isolation has had on your head, but you appreciate it more than he could ever imagine. 

Chan checks his wrist watch, clearing his throat. He tells you it’s almost time for you to go and you can’t help the panicked feeling that bubbles in your chest. You know that Hyunjin notices it too, the frantic look in your eye as you look to him for help, but there’s nothing he can do about it. You wonder if he and Chan got into a disagreement about it, if anybody besides Felix had the gall to stand up to him about your circumstance but it’s unlikely. 

As Chan guides you out, Hyunjin remembers something, handing you a new book as if it were an afterthought. A brand new copy of Wuthering Heights is placed into your hands. 

“I think you’ll really like this one,” Hyunjin muses. “I hope we get a chance to talk about it soon. I purchased this at that bookstore I was telling you about. Let me take you there one day, okay?” 

You smile at him. A true, genuine, smile before Chan takes you back to your room for dinner. Feeling a little more hopeful, you eat more than usual and talk to him more than yesterday. You think he’s expecting you to thank him. You don’t. He wishes you a good evening before he locks you in your room for the evening. 

Something about Hyunjin’s words had struck you as odd. “I hope we get to talk about it soon.” Since you moved in and Hyunjin had started giving you new books to read, although he was always very sure of himself in his choices, you had never really talked about your choices. Even today during your conversation you didn’t talk about Albert Camus’ The Stranger, which you had read a whopping four times since your isolation.

This is why you’re not as surprised when you open the book and you find a note, wedged neatly between page eight and page nine. It’s not Hyunjin’s handwriting, but Felix’s. You can’t help it when your heart picks up and beats against your chest, a smile against your face despite yourself. 

‘Dear Sunshine,

I am so sorry for everything. Each day that I have not been able to see you and that I have known that you have been behind those doors has been Hell for me, as I’m sure they’ve been Hell for you as well. Let me take you far, far, away from this place if you would let me.

If you will take me, if you want this as much as I do, let us leave tonight. Leave your bathroom light on tonight and I will know that it will be okay for us to make our escape. 

Love, LF.’ 

Are you really reading this correctly? 

It was the first night here that Chan took off his belt and whipped you with it just for leaving when he told you not to leave. What would the punishment be if you and Felix were caught? You knew the answer, and you found yourself grimacing as you thought about it. If Chan found out that you and Felix had escaped—and you had a very, very short window of time before he came looking for you, until breakfast tomorrow—he would surely kill the two of you in cold blood.

Felix, was he really to risk it all for you? No questions asked? You knew you were. 

Turning off all lights in your room, leaving just your bathroom light on for the signal and to light up your path, you get ready. You throw on some clothes, a pair of thick socks and a pair of sneakers, athletic pants and a t-shirt underneath a hoodie. You try to dress both light-weight but also warm, easy for mobility in case you have to do some running. And you take a quick nap, since it’s still light out and you’re sure that the plan won’t take place until after nightfall and you should probably be well-rested. 

You’re right. You wake up a few hours later and it’s dark outside. Felix still hasn’t shown yet. You sit right by your door and wait for him. You wait and wait and wait, your heart beating so heavily out of your chest it might explode. You literally have to calm yourself down with breathing exercises several times because you find yourself so worked up. You can’t help it–you’re so nervous about seeing him again, and about the escape, about his plans, though you’re sure he has something planned out. 

After some time has passed, you almost wonder if maybe he isn’t going to show, but you laugh at that thought. It’s Felix. Of course he’s going to show. You have never met someone more true to his word and dedicated. You just hope that everything is going according to plan. And sure enough?

Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 

Light from the hallway spills into your room, encasing the darkness that surrounded you. When you jump to your feet, Felix pulls you in for a very chaste kiss. His name spills silently from your lips and you see him smile before grabbing your hand, pulling you into a silent run down the hallway. You can already tell that there is going to be a long night ahead of you, though you’re relieved when Felix leads you to a mundane car, a dark mini-van, and you can’t help but think thank god we aren’t literally running away. 

You hurriedly get into the passenger seat, Felix the driver’s seat, and the two of you drive away. You watch as the house gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror behind you until it completely disappears, and most of your anxiety along with it. 

“You came for me.” you say finally. 

“Of course I did,” Felix says, his voice soft. “I just had to work out the logistics. I’m so so incredibly sorry it took me that long. I hope you can forgive me.” 

“It’s really happening?” you ask him. “We’re really leaving?” 

Felix only smiles. “I did everything I could. I was even able to get your sister out of your house, I sent her somewhere safe where Chan can’t find her to retaliate.”

“Thank you, Felix,” you say, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Really, really, thank you.” 

He reaches over the center console and grabs your hand, bringing it to his face to kiss along your knuckles. 

“You have no need to thank me. This is my escape too. In reality, I owe you just as much.” Your heart squeezes at his words. You don’t really understand the weight behind his words but you hope that he will open up to you about them one day. About his past and his history with Chan. You stare at Felix, at the way the passing headlights illuminate his face and accentuate his features, and you just sit there and watch and watch, drinking him in and hoping that you will never have to let him go again. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You’re expecting to arrive at some sort of hotel/motel, similar to the one you and Felix had shared after the night at the gala. What you weren’t expecting was an apartment building, at least ten stories tall in the middle of a city a few hours away. 

Felix parks the car, a protective hand around your waist the whole walk to the building. He holds you so close you find it almost difficult to walk. The elevator takes you up to the eighth floor, where Felix leads you down the hall. The building looks well-kept, maintained inside, contrasting from its run-down exterior. 

Felix leans over the door, typing a code into the keypad. It swings open revealing a large furnished studio apartment. 

“This place looks really nice,” you admit. “It is a step-up from the motel. How did you…” 

“Chan isn’t the only one that has his connections,” Felix says, sighing as he throws a backpack down next to him. He closed the door behind him, locking it. He walks around the apartment several times, making sure that every window is locked and secure as well. “It’s safe here. We should be able to stay here for a few days before we need to pick up again. But this place is completely alarmed and equipped with security codes. He won’t find us here, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod. You really do trust him. You feel safe. 

“The password for the front door is 0325,” Felix tells you. You don’t know why that action alone makes you want to tear up. You’re not a prisoner anymore. You’re really free. 

“Thank you,” you tell him, shucking your hoodie off of your body. You don’t miss the way his eyes rack over your frame at the way your shirt picks up slightly. How does he still manage to make you blush? “How did you get the code for my door?” you ask him. You had been wondering about it for a while, as there was no way that Chan had given it to him. 

“Hyunjin told me,” Felix discloses. “He was the only other person besides Chan that knew the code, in case of an emergency or if Chan was away and he needed to give you food.” 

“He was the only one?” you ask. “But that means… Won’t Chan know that Hyunjin…” 

“Hyunjin has already come to terms with things,” Felix says remorsefully. “I didn’t want it to go down like this either, but Hyunjin really was willing to make a sacrifice for you. For both of us. Nothing horrible is going to happen–he isn’t going to be killed, but I’m sure the punishment will be brutal.” 

You shake your head, unwilling to believe his words. “I can’t believe Hyunjin would do that for us. I really thought he was loyal to Chan.” 

“At the end of the day there must have been something he found more important to put his trust in,” he smiles. “I think he realized how bad your mental state was after spending over a week in that room.” 

“It was over a week?” you nearly cry. Felix holds you tight to his chest. You don’t cry–you’ve already come to terms with what has happened. When you pull apart, you look into his eyes and find that he has tears of his own that have started to build up. Now that is something that you had not anticipated. 

“I’m sorry–” he starts to say, but you crash your lips into his instead. Your hands pull into his hair and you push your body into his, do anything you can to get your body as inhumanly close to his as possible, so that you can feel every touch of his skin against yours. 

Felix’s hands wander underneath your hoodie, tugging off the material and throwing it to the floor in a desperate show. His hands roam your body, his lips never once leaving your skin. This time he makes it a show to suck a mark into any available surface, licking and sucking dark purples and pinks into your neck, collarbones, shoulders, breasts–any area of skin that was once pristine now has Felix’s claim on it. 

“You’re mine, do you understand? You’re mine and I’m yours.” 

“Yes, Felix, yes,” you agree, letting him push you back against the bed. He towers over you for a second, dropping to his knees onto the floor so that he can pull off the material of your pants. You lift your hips, allowing him to. You push your thighs together, utterly exposed in front of him but also so aroused by his stare and he grabs your thighs, pushing them apart. 

“Beautiful,” he comments. You throw an arm over your face, embarrassed by his comment. “Don’t hide from me, angel,” he says, kissing the insides of your thighs. “You’re mine, right? Can I compliment what’s mine? You’re not going to hide away what’s mine, hmm?” When you don’t immediately answer him, your chest rising and falling rapidly from his words, you feel a slight pinch come from inside your thigh. You look down at his mischievous face to realize he has just lightly slapped your inner thigh to get a response. 

“N-no, Felix,” you moan. 

“No, what?” he teases, his mouth going higher and higher still, his breath right above your center but waiting. 

“No, I’m not going to hide from you. Yes, you can compliment me,” you reply.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he groans. “Prove it, then. Open those legs wide for me.” And you do. You spread your legs as far as they would go and Felix rewards you by immediately diving in, his tongue lapping at your clit like a man starved. As much as your thighs tremble and shake and threaten to close, you don’t let them. Your eyes stay on Felix, and his eyes on yours. 

Suddenly, Felix pulls away with a pop. 

“What–”

He climbs onto the bed and lays down, leaving you utterly confused before he grabs you by the waist, manhandling you effortlessly by the waist onto his face. 

“Felix, what are you doing?” 

“I want you to sit on my face,” he responds, his hands caressing your thighs as if trying to coax you down to properly take your seat. 

“Are you sure? I–”

“Please, just, use me. Make yourself cum, and then I’ll fuck you open on my cock.” You can’t deny how appealing his words sound, and he had already worked you up just seconds ago so you can’t find the resolve to protest much longer. Eagerly, you sit. His tongue prods your entrance, pushing in as far as it will go. You rock yourself back and forth on his face, your clit occasionally catching on his nose, and you find Felix’s hands taking place on your ass to help you find your pace. 

Once you build up a rhythm you ride him in earnest, like nothing matters but him beneath you right now and your climax building up. He knows you’re close when he feels your thighs clench tighter around your head and your back starts to arch back, and your noises have become louder. You do exactly what he told you to do–you use him for your pleasure until you’re having one of the longest, most drawn-out orgasms of your life. 

When you finally crawl off of him, Felix wastes no time before flipping your positions, making your stomach turn with butterflies. He pulls his pants off in one swift motion and you take a moment to look at him in awe, to really just appreciate him and his beautifully toned body despite seeing it a few times before. 

You watch as he strokes his cock a few times, his eyes fixated on your pussy. He pushes forward, and just to tease–intentionally catches the head of it on your overstimulated clit, causing you to cry out. 

“Felix!” your hips buck up, your legs wrap around him, doing anything you can just to get him to enter you properly. 

“Do you want me that bad?” he asks with a smile, his voice a low timbre in your ear. 

“Yes, Felix, stop fucking teasing me, you know I want you–” and with that, he pushes right into you, fully sheathing himself in one thrust. Your hands come up to push crescent fingernail indents into his shoulders, just to ground yourself from the overwhelming sensation. 

Felix wastes no time before fucking you like he really means it, his hips pulling out to meet yours flush each time. The way his hips roll in a fluid motion into yours has you crying out, wrapping your legs around him. 

“Fuck, you’re clenching me so tight,” he pants. “I’m going to cum soon, baby. Where do you want it?” 

You wrap your legs even tighter around him. 

His hand snakes up to your neck, just placing it there, not even squeezing but it still causes you to cry out with a moan that is borderline pornagraphic. 

“You’re being so dirty, baby. Are you trying to tell me something? You want me to cum inside? Because you’re going to have you use your words to tell me that or else it’s not gonna happen,” he grins. 

His hips snap into yours so hard it’s almost bruising, but you’re so close to your second orgasm that you think you could fall over the edge any second. 

“FELIX,” you finally cry out. You’re sure the scratches you’re leaving into his back are going to leave marks, if not bleed. 

“Fuck, you gotta tell me now.” 

“Inside! Inside! I want you to cum inside, fuck, I love you Felix, please!” you sob. 

He kisses you. Rather, his lips smash into yours so hard you’re not sure what is happening, but you’re cumming so hard it’s blinding. You can feel him still as he fills you up with warm ropes of his cum. 

When you both finally come down, Felix flops beside you and you immediately curl into his chest. He embraces you, his hands stroking unknown symbols into your skin. 

“Did you mean it?” he finally asks. 

You don’t have to ask what he’s referring to. “Yes,” you reply. “I think I’ve known it for a long time.”

“I love you, too.” Felix tells you, grabbing your chin so that he can press another kiss into your lips. “You mean the world to me.” 

That night, Felix looks around the apartment again, making sure that everything is in its place. When you see that there is both a couch and a bed, you make a joke about sleeping on the couch that causes him to quite literally pick you up and throw you into bed with him. You fall asleep like that, intertwined in his arms, not worried about accidentally getting caught and what the consequences might be tomorrow. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You toss and turn. Images plague your mind. A guilt-ridden feeling plagues your gut. 

Minho, who gets anxiety on missions, who wanted to get away from his family and the life of crime from his childhood, but couldn’t let Jisung go alone for fear of what Chan would do to him.

Changbin, who has only wanted to protect his family, but instead Chan has held that over his head.

Hyunjin, who didn’t really know how to find himself after being told who to be, who didn’t know what to do with his life, exploited by Chan. 

Jisung, who has never had anybody tell him that he is good for more than shooting things and a life of violent crime, and had Chan take advantage of that. 

Seungmin, who had only one dream and had it taken away through an injury, was falsely promised by Chan that one day he could get the surgery and recover to play baseball again. 

Jeongin, who turned to a life of crime but was told he could have the money to go to fashion school, all if he would become Chan’s lackey. 

Even Felix, who you’re sure has been through something just as horrible, though he hasn’t told you yet… 

At the end of the day, there’s one common factor in all of this evil. 

You know that you can’t stay here and live a fantasy life, where you get to escape and be free while the rest of them are trapped there and still living in a nightmare. At the end of the day, you have started to develop close relationships with each and every one of them, and you can’t bring yourself to think more about the horrors that Chan continues to inflict on them each day while you get to run away with Felix. 

Picking up Felix’s arm, you kiss him on the head. You feel very remorseful for what you’re about to do, for the amount of mental anguish you are probably about to put him in when everything was finally going to go your way. You wish you could have relished in this a little bit longer. 

Opening up the bedside table, you grab Felix’s car keys and his gun. 

This has to end, and it has to end now. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

a/n: we're getting close to the end! two main chapters and two mini chapters left!! sorry for the delay today guys, I only had this chapter half written i wrote the rest in a coffee shop lol <3

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[wisteriagoesvroom]

LOL I can imagine for vampire au Lando starting to third wheel Carcar and so even though turning Franco is a complete accident he can’t feel too guilty bc he uses it as an excuse to hang around someone else, and somehow he learns more about vampirism lore through a human grad student than he’s learned in his whole life (he’s lived a long time, lots of info to absorb). Then also, if you don’t mind my ask, what do they all do for jobs/how do they get money and would Franco keep studying ?

HELP this is so cute. ok. norpinto-frando vampire au for those who aren't up to speed...

Lando starting to third wheel Carcar and so even though turning Franco is a complete accident, [Lando] can’t feel too guilty bc he uses it as an excuse to hang around someone else -> screaming cus, absolutely. random associated headcanons for this... i'll rewind a bit:

carlos is the oldest vampire, like, moorish/medieval era. he met lando while they were both at a masquerade ball in the early 1600s and smelled each other right away (carlos like wood and ink, lando like gas lamps and wet stone).

lando is an tudor era vampire. like he actually knew shakespeare and said he was one of the best viral marketers of the era

oscar was turned in the early days of the australian penal colony, he's like first or second generation white australian but he refuses to be called british. he moved in to the house because the rent was cheap and he doesn't feel the need to live extravagantly -- even though he, too, is $$ loaded $$

oscar didn't move in until about two decades ago - very short by vampire standards, to them it feels like yesterday - but carlos and oscar are basically They Were Roommates atp even though they squabble con-stant-ly

their neighbours think they are a new age-y polyam group but because the people who live opposite them are students, nobody ever hangs around longer than a year to remember them or dig deeper

so franco definitely brings a fun funky fresh dynamic

he learns more about vampirism lore through a human grad student than he’s learned in his whole life (he’s lived a long time, lots of info to absorb) -> things that baby vamp!franco teaches lando include

tiktok trends, like how to make ur teeth comically large in photos. lando finds this hilarious

how to use venmo

creating a roster on google docs for who needs to do what house chores

jailbreaking an apple watch so it doesn't read their pulses (they don't have any), but it will remind them of the moon phases and when they might be extra hungry to feed

at one point franco actually puts his academic skills to use and helps lando hunt down some of his family tree, because since lando was turned and it's been so long, he doesn't remember much about them : ( so one of franco's little gifts to lando is helping him trace his heritage

what do they all do for jobs/how do they get money and would Franco keep studying ? -> i love how practical-minded you are. um well let's say this fictional supernatural creatures' market mostly runs on barter trades and goodwill agreements. the entire house sometimes just gets lazy tbh so lando or carlos will just dig into one of the old chests of random shit and pull out an antique and go: "do we think this is worth anything?" then they take it to an antiques dealer who is also a mage (alex albon) and there is a 1 in 25 chance that the antique is actually is worth something, so that bankrolls them for another half a year or whatever.

carlos makes a lot of noise about being "an art dealer" just because he sold a goya painting to a museum once.

oscar is a man of industry, of the "newer" world (australia) etc etc so he spent the 80s and 90s learning C++ and Java and Python so he legit just codes for a living. or when he feels like it. oscar has helped launch at least a dozen startups under various pseudonyms and one of them is even a blue chip company by now. he doesn't do it for money tho. he just does it cus he likes a challenge, and otherwise fights with carlos too much. when he isn't coding he likes to tinker and fix things just for fun. like, he legit knows how to fix a boiler and stuff. his familiar is definitely a grumpy orange neighbourhood cat.

franco keeps studying!! he is such a nerd that he's like "i can totally learn everything about anything now, and i could in theory do like 20 masters degrees, and nobody can stop me"!! then lando is like, "well you might get bored of it after a while or burn out". but franco insists he will not. in fact with his enhanced neurological abilities he goes on an academic bender trying to fast forward through an entire harvard's undergrad degree's worth of material in a week, and he ends up faceplanting on his desk. and then poor lando has to go and find a fresh chicken or something to kill and revive franco 'cus franco wore himself out too fast being a bb vampire with accelerated mind powers.

franco promises never to do that again (but of course he will continue to do it once in a while, and everyone still looks after him in his lil study hangovers because he is so very nice. also he taught them how to use venmo.)

and. one time. franco is like. "i can't find this rare sonnet do you know what library i could maybe locate it in" and lando is like "wait i know that one" and pulls out an honest to god original copy that he at some point got laminated in the early 80s. and franco is like. "um i think this should be in a museum??" and lando is like "yeah but i gave them a copy of this, cus i spilled ink on the corner of this in 1603 after a really good night out" and franco is like "???? ok ????"

then lando swans off to moodily stare at the moon or some shit.

[carnelianly]

this post contains noncon! please don’t read if that will be upsetting! i would never promote this in real life, and people, men or women, are always unable to consent to any kind of contact while intoxicated!

art is your friend. not your boyfriend. not your dog that you can tug around on a leash like you seem to think you can. he has a girlfriend. he’s madly in love with her. he doesn’t want you. sure, he can acknowledge that you’re pretty and he can tell himself, in the comforts of his own head ‘if i were single, i’d.. definitely go for her’. in another life, maybe he was yours. not in this one.

but he was invited out to the bar by patrick who also invited you and a couple other friends and he doesn’t mind your presence at all. you’re.. you’re nice enough. you may make him a little nervous when you smile like that, but that’s not for him to say. he keeps himself polite but distant in conversation with you.

he drinks a little too much. patrick always suggests shots and what is art supposed to do? say no? look like a pussy?

he downs them anyway, one after another until it’s two hours later and he forgets he’s barely eaten much all day and there’s so much alcohol in his system that he can’t stand up straight.

not to worry, you’re them to catch him before he falls over. patrick and the others are off talking about some nonsense, but you’re being so nice and helpful, you wipe the drool from his chin and fix his hair and he smiles faintly at you in gratitude.

you smile back at him, one arm holding him up since he’s not stable enough to stand on his own, half leaning on the bar counter and half relying on you to keep him up. your other hand is… art isn’t really paying attention. feels weird, though. it’s between his thighs, rubbing the skin softly, almost teasingly. art isn’t coherent enough to understand what’s happening.

you’re smiling at him, telling him everything is gonna be fine, because it will be. everything will be okay. he doesn’t have to worry, you’ll take care of him, keep him safe. there’s so many bad people in this world that might try to hurt him, steal his wallet, take advantage of him. you’re not like that. you’re just gonna keep talking to him like this until it’s time to leave and then you’re gonna take him home. he’s too drunk to get back to his place by himself, so you’ll just let him stay at yours. so gracious of you.

he listens because he has no other choice, and he’s not as much letting you touch him but not able to stop you. your hand is on his crotch, massaging him through his jeans, and he moans and he falls forward into you, resting his head on your shoulder. he’s weak. unable to do anything but take this treatment. your hand that was keeping him upright moves to his ass, always so plump and thick, god, he obviously does it for his girlfriend but he might as well have done it for you, in this moment.

you could so easily take what you wanted from him, especially because you’re sure he’s about to black out and remember nothing. but you’re a better person than that, you tell yourself. you’re just touching, you’re not gonna break anything.

you end up taking him into the bathroom, and he’s too drunk to know what he’s doing, but hey, he kissed you first, even if he’s tripping over his own feet and practically drooling into your mouth. it’s hot, and you feel him up some more. it feels wrong to fuck him, too permanent. he’d definitely know what happened then. he’s smart when he’s sober, smart enough anyway.

in the end, he’s taken home with patrick and a couple of buddies, taking a shared uber home while art is blacked out, while you go off by yourself.

the next time you see art, he definitely does not remember what happened that night. he does feel a little weird around you, but he can’t quite put his finger on why your presence is so.. uncomfortable all of a sudden…

[elysiaheaven]

𝗠𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗲𝗶𝘅𝗶𝗮𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗿𝘆..?-𝟮𝟬-(The Fox's wedding)

words:1600

Feixiao stood at the ancient seaside shore, her gaze lost in the crashing waves, waiting for you all to catch up. You arrived first, wearing your mask as always, casually strolling up to her as if the tension of the moment didn't exist.

"Back already?" she asked, her tone light but clearly masking something deeper. "You've met with Jing Yuan and wandered around for a few hours. So, what do you think?"

Jiaoqiu, who had been trailing just behind, responded first, his voice low. "It appears that the Divine Foresight is using this Wardance as a show of strength, to convince everyone that the Luofu is prospering after the Ambrosial Arbor Crisis..."

"But..." You cut in, smirking under your mask, your voice playful as you looked at Feixiao, mocking her with the way you dragged out the word. "I know you're going to say 'But,' right?" You winked slyly, watching her with amusement as her expression shifted.

Jiaoqiu, missing the undercurrent, continued as if nothing had happened. "But, the influx of people attending the Wardance is like a breeding ground for disorder and rumors. One wrong move, and the Luofu could be in a world of chaos."

Moze, ever the quiet observer, chimed in next. "The Cloud Knights on the streets remain vigilant, so at the very least, General Jing Yuan is aware of this. As for other matters, I'm unable to say."

"Ah, yes, the honorable Cloud Knights," you mused aloud, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Always so vigilant, yet chaos always seems to find its way, doesn't it?" You let out a soft chuckle, enjoying the slight irritation that crossed Feixiao's face.

Jiaoqiu, oblivious, tried to steer the conversation back. "I'd prefer to be excused from future meetings with generals. I'm just a military healer, and now, all of a sudden, I'm thrust onto the center stage having cordial chats with two generals?"

Moze nodded in agreement. "My work doesn't lend itself to being in the limelight, either."

You laughed softly, almost mockingly, "Oh, poor you. Thrust into the spotlight. At least you two still have your peace of mind, unlike some of us." You gave Feixiao a pointed look, the mocking tone still lingering in your voice.

Feixiao scowled, clearly not amused. "Just stop whining. At least you're in one piece, right?"

You tilted your head, that playful grin still on your lips, and whispered, "For now, General... for now." Feixiao shot you a glare, but you merely shrugged, looking away as if it didn't bother you in the slightest.

Before Feixiao could respond, she shifted the conversation back to Jing Yuan. "Before getting in touch with General Jing Yuan, I want to put aside my assumptions and see his 'momentum.' That includes the overall bearing of the Cloud Knights on the street, what people are saying, and how those close to him behave."

Jiaoqiu sighed. "'The might of an army dwells not within its pawns, but within the force of its collective momentum. Recognizing this fact reveals the true measure of power.' Thanks for enlightening me, General."

You couldn't help yourself. "A perfectly clear statement, turned confusing thanks to your translation, Jiaoqiu," you teased. "You've made me lose where I was now." You turned to Feixiao, leaning closer with a grin. "Anyway, this is how I operate in battle... so you might as well get used to it."

Jiaoqiu raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and Feixiao. "Are you treating General Jing Yuan as your enemy?"

Feixiao crossed her arms, her gaze hardening. "The longest-serving general of the Xianzhou Luofu. Do you think he'd have only a few enemies?"

You leaned in closer, whispering softly in Feixiao's ear, "Oh, but you won't be one of them, will you? After all... you're still alive, aren't you?" Your voice was laced with a mocking undertone, watching as Feixiao's irritation began to boil over.

Jiaoqiu, sensing the tension but still trying to maintain some level of composure, changed the subject. "By the way, General, you met the Healer Lady, yes? Could you show me the medicine she prescribed you?"

Feixiao's irritation melted into a cold indifference. "Well, the Healer Lady couldn't do anything about my condition. She just told me to 'enjoy some tasty food.'"

Jiaoqiu frowned. "So, not even the famed Healer Lady could help?"

You chuckled softly, casting a sidelong glance at Feixiao. "Tsk, tsk... it seems like even legends have their limits."

Feixiao's eyes flashed with anger, but before she could retort, Jiaoqiu spoke again, his voice softer this time. "Don't worry. I'll fulfill my promise and find a way to cure you. Actually, I've found some leads."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the conversation grow heavier. Feixiao's hardened gaze was enough to tell you she wasn't in the mood for sympathy. "Well," she finally said, her voice sharp, "life and death, Jiaoqiu... it's all predetermined."

Your mocking smile faded for a brief second, replaced by something softer. You looked at her, eyes filled with a strange sort of knowing sadness. "Oh, General," you said softly, almost too softly, "don't worry... you'll live."

Feixiao's eyes narrowed at you, anger and confusion mixing. "You..." she hissed, clearly unsettled by the way you looked at her. But you simply smiled again, your mask slipping back into place as if nothing had happened.

Feixiao glanced over her shoulder, her expression softened, but the sharpness in her eyes hadn't dulled. "You asked if I view General Jing Yuan as my enemy..." she repeated with a sigh, her voice quieter now. "No, my real enemy has always been myself."

She said it matter-of-factly, like it was a truth she had long come to terms with. There was no bitterness, just acceptance.

Moze, ever the one to break tension, chimed in with a smirk, "'Enjoy some tasty food'... So, what's for dinner tonight?"

Jiaoqiu groaned, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "Geez, Moze... you really know how to read the room, don't you?"

Feixiao laughed softly at that, a brief but genuine chuckle. "You guys figure it out for yourselves," she said, her tone teasing as she started to turn away. "I'm due to catch up with an old war friend I haven't seen in quite a long time."

Her eyes lingered on you for just a moment before she moved to leave, her posture relaxed but still holding the weight of someone who had seen too many battles. There was something almost bittersweet in her departure, as if she was saying goodbye to more than just the evening, but perhaps a part of herself.

Jiaoqiu and Moze exchanged glances, unsure whether to follow or leave her to her thoughts. As Feixiao walked away, the air around her seemed to still, the tension of the evening fading into something quieter, more reflective.

You watched her go, knowing that in her own way, Feixiao was preparing herself for a battle she hadn't yet fought. But it wasn't against Jing Yuan, or the Abominations of Abundance—it was against herself.

"Guess it's just us for dinner then," Moze finally said, breaking the silence with a shrug.

Jiaoqiu shot him a tired look. "You have the worst timing, you know that?"

Feixiao stood at the ancient seaside shore, her eyes fixed on the horizon, her expression distant as the others began to leave. She hadn't noticed you still standing there, watching her as she spoke, her voice carrying a quiet resolve.

"Upon starting my military career, I made a pledge that the rest of my life would be dedicated to being the Xianzhou's spearhead," she said, her tone firm, as if reciting an oath she had repeated to herself countless times. "Hunting down the Abominations of Abundance till the end of my days."

You could hear the weight in her words, the weariness hidden beneath her hardened exterior. She continued, almost to herself, "As long as I can fulfill that deep-seated desire... I don't care how long I live."

You took a step closer, your presence still unnoticed by her until you quietly said, "You'll live."

Feixiao turned to you, surprised by your voice. Her eyes searched yours, confused by the soft smile on your face—gentle but dead, hollow. You reached out, your hand resting on the top of her head, patting it softly as if comforting a child.

"You'll live, Feixiao," you repeated, your voice a quiet promise that neither of you fully believed. The weight of your words hung in the air, unspoken truths lingering between you two.

Feixiao looked up at you, her tough facade cracking just slightly as she met your gaze. She didn't say anything, but the confusion in her eyes was evident. Why would you, of all people, offer her comfort? Why now?

Without a word, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small bundle—sweets you had baked earlier that morning. You handed them to her, your expression soft but distant. "Here," you said quietly. "I made these this morning. Eat them when you have time."

Feixiao blinked, surprised, as she took the sweets from your hand. She glanced down at them, then back at you, clearly unsure of how to respond.

You smiled again, that same dead smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. Then, without another word, you turned and walked away, leaving her standing there alone with the sound of the waves and the sweets in her hand.

[deservedgrace]

You're not wrong, and I'm not listening, but as long as people are using this language that means that other people are listening and I'm going to call that out, especially if it's purposely veiled in nicer sounding words to make people more likely to accept and be okay with abusive language. I'm talking about it BECAUSE I stopped listening and I want to give others the chance to stop listening too

[medicalunprofessional]

never change, man !

[eggmeralda]

do you ever feel casually suicidal? like you're not depressed or anything you're doing fine but also it feels like a convenient option

[medicinemane]

.

[fingertipsmp3]

Does anyone else just like… not give a fuck if they’re chopping vegetables evenly

[samwisefamgee]

Every day I grow closer to throwing my phone into the river and when I do I won’t fucking regret it