#just pointlessly adding in my voice to the white noise

[partlyironic]

between them all, the guys at Watcher have made a lot of content effectively for free for all of us for many, many years. there is plenty of backlog to catch up on if you haven't already

if there is an enemy here, it's youtube. something like Watcher should be able to make a living on that platform. youtube has long abandoned it's creators and it is only getting worse.

paying money to smaller creators who put their all into making content you love is always going to be more worth it than paying for streaming services like netflix or hbo 🏴‍☠️

if you can't cover the cost, sharing accounts is the way to go. OR you can chip in a month here and there and catch up when you are able

please don't be sad! It's gonna be ok. and please don't spread misinformation in the meantime maybe

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

It’s Anarhichadidae, not Anti-hiccup-daisy

Summary: Logan’s ichthyology teacher is a joke. The boy who just called him on it, however, is the opposite. Too bad Logan was going to be dead from Gay Panic within the hour.

Pairing: Analogical Warnings: Stupid/mean teacher, nervous/gay stuttering, mocking stuttering, swearing, mentions of death via gay, this entire thing is basically Logan being gay for a smartie hottie

Wrote partially because my muse has no chill and partially because @vintage-squid really liked the idea and helped me with the Big Fish Words 

"Okay, class, today we will be talking about a species commonly referred to as Wolf eels. They are of the order Perfect-odds, and the class Anti-hiccup-daisy."

Logan sighed a long, long, long suffering sigh as he took his normal seat near the middle of the lecture hall, pulling out his notebook and pen more for appearances than anything. It wasn't like he'd actually be learning anything worth writing down.

When Logan had started the class at the start of the year, he had been excited. His interest in biology was only amplified by the marine aspect. So it was understandable that ichthyology would intrigue him.

Of course, that had been before he learned his teacher was an absolute fool who could neither pronounce any scientific word nor produce any valid scientific information.

Logan had used to fight him, back at the beginning of the year when he hadn't yet been crushed by the homework of other classes and he was, dare he say, optimistic for a chance to actually learn something from that class. Now, the only reason he didn't drop it was because it was an easy credit and essentially an hour of free time- an hour he needed from the work that was cutting into his sleep from his actual classes.

With the first sentence out of his mouth today being so horribly butchered, Logan was sure he could actually sleep through the class without missing out on anything.

As was, the words were already mostly a drone going in one ear and out the other as Logan mentally studied for the test in his next class. He was pointlessly coming in and out of the conversation, rating the stupidity of the comments when he felt he needed a break.

It was roughly half an hour into class when he paid attention again only to hear the gem that was, "Wolf eels are, in fact, closely related to Moray eels. The were forced out of their shared habitat by lack of resources, creating the slight differences in appearance."

Logan tried not to audibly snort. Who gave this man a teaching degree?

Already slipping back into his mental notes, Logan was pulled roughly out of his thoughts by the yell that came from the back of the classroom:

"Bullshit."

The entire class swiveled in their seats, trying to find who had just loudly cussed at the teacher.

At first, Logan couldn't find him, too many heads for him to pick the source of the call (especially since he hadn't exchanged so much as five words with anyone in the class).

"I beg your pardon?" The teacher asked, sounding as startled as his class. Logan was able to locate the student, then, when he responded once more,

"I said bullshit, sir." The student answered, leaning back in his chair and tugging at the sleeves of his patched up hoodie. "I can say it a third time if you'd like me too, but I don't think I'll ever actually say it enough to sum up how much of it you're spewing."

While the class around him collectively hushed in an awed sort of quiet, Logan focused on the hoodie-wearing student. They were a few rows away, but it didn't stop him from noticing the other's black fingernails, his purposefully smudged eyeshadow, the fading purple in his floof of hair, how his pale skin seemed to very well bring out what Logan would have guessed were copper brown eyes-

Logan shook his head and forced himself to look forwards again, back towards the offended teacher, feeling his cheeks already heating up like they were going to be stars.

So it seemed the only other kid in the class with a brain may be a little pretty. Logan would decide how he felt about that in a moment.

Luckily for him, he was able to shift his attention back to the newly emerged fight when the teacher finally got past making frustrated noises and responded with, "I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you're trying to say."

The student blinked, almost seeming to be in genuine confusion. "I thought I made it pretty clear. Everything you're saying? Bullshit. Lies. Slander. Non-facts. Whatever you want to call them."

"And who exactly are you, Mr...?"

"Virgil."

"Mr. Virgil, who do you think you are to challenge your teacher in how they teach their class?"

Virgil scratched at the back of his neck nonchalantly. "I think I'm right."

"Oh, really?" The teacher asked, sounding much too cocky for a man who probably couldn't tell a clownfish from a great white. "Care to enlighten us as to just how right you are, then?"

"Love to." Virgil responded, catching the teacher slightly off guard as he started tapping his pencil on his notebook. "What you said is about as right as saying a human is at all related to a screw." He paused for a second to smirk. "Well, the average human anyways. Screw-brains like you are exceptions."

Teacher spluttered out loud, Logan mentally spluttered in gay, and Virgil continued even more confidentially,

"Wolf eels and Moray eels look similar due to convergent evolution, a concept normally taught in high school so I don't know how you made it to college without grasping that concept. They're even different orders- real eels being Anguilliformes, though considering I've heard you struggle to say dandelion I'm not surprised you tried to skip the extra name."

"That'll be quite enough, Mr. Virgil." The teacher ordered, Virgil pausing with an eyebrow raised in a mix of curiosity and amusement. Logan tried not to feel too annoyed by the way his heart skipped angrily, wanting to hear more of the student's coarse and sarcastic tone.

While Logan lamented the silence, the teacher continued, "Now. Does anyone agree with Mr. Virgil's rather outlandish theories, or can we continue with some actual teaching?"

For a second, no one spoke up. Logan knew for a fact that most of the kids in the class either agreed with the teacher or were taking the class for the credits alone. They wouldn't have any reason to speak up. Most days, Logan wouldn't either.

But right before the teacher could smile, self-satisfied, Logan blurted out (much less professionally than he'd like to admit), "I do."

The teacher turned his attention onto Logan, but he didn't care about that so much as he did the shift he noticed out of the corner of his eye from Virgil. He was staring at him.  Logan pretended that wasn't the reason his next sentence came out as, "He-he's quite right, actually. You're the on-only one spewing nonsense here."

"Oh, am I?" The teacher asked, crossing his arms and looking extremely smug as he continued, "Please, why don't you take a turn doing my job?"

Logan glanced back at Virgil quickly, spurred by an instinct he didn't even know he had, finding the other student tilting his head slightly and- dammit it was possible for him to be even more attractive?

Logan turned his gaze back at the teacher again, who's smug grin had only grown, and he forced himself to meet his eyes, happy to see a spark of doubt in them.

"Why not?" He asked, ignoring the still very much existing tremble in his voice that only grew when he let his thoughts wander back towards the boy in back (so constantly). "I-I'm clearly more qualified."

The teacher looked thoroughly shocked at the blatant implication, and Logan used the slight rush of satisfaction he got from that expression to push on. "What Vir- Vir-" He cleared his throat and gave up at trying to get the pretty student's name out of his mouth. "What has already been stated by any- anyone in this class who is- isn't you is ac-acc-accurate." Logan internally cursed as he stumbled over even the simplest of words. "Mo-moray eels and Wolf eels a-are, in fact, not even clo-clo- remotely related."

"Repeating what others have said does not make you an expert on anything." The teacher said mockingly, before adding, "Especially when you seem to barely be able to say it."

Logan ground his teeth. "You want some 'new' facts?" He spat out. "You earlier called Wolf eels extremely vic-vic- mean creatures, I can only as-assume based on its name alone, which is just ig-igno- stupid given how gentle they often are."

"You can't-"

"They often grow ei-eight feet long, unlike the eight inch length you assigned them." Logan pushed on, ignoring his teacher's attempts to break in. "I'm not quite s-sure how you got seaweed from ur-urchins, crabs, and mol-mollus- not seaweed for their prim-primary food source but that's pr-pretty wrong , too. And as bro-brought up before you can't even pro-prono- say their sci-scient- proper class and order names!"

"Like you can?" The teacher fired back, and if it weren't for the gay distraction a few feet behind him Logan would have said them backwards three times in a row just to prove his point. As it stood, however, he was ready to simply glare the look of the teacher's face.

"Order of Perciformes and class of Anarhichadidae." Virgil spoke up again, the words rolling off his tongue like they were cat and dog. "Order for true eels would be Anguilliformes if you want that one again."

"I wasn't speaking to you."

"What?" Virgil asked, feigning innocence. "I'm just another lowly student in this class. If I can say it, you should be able to say it."

The teacher fumed more, and Logan risked another glance back at Virgil. This time, the other student caught his stare and winked at him with a stupid, cocky little smile.

That was it. Logan was never speaking again. If he thought he was stumbling over his words when he was blushing he didn't want to find out what would happen when his cheeks were literally on fire and he felt very slightly dizzy, somehow in a good way.

If he wasn't still trying to look vaguely respectful in defiance of his teacher, he would have just laid down and screamed into the desk.

"Well, then." The teacher said, barely contained anger in his tone as he pulled Logan's attention away from the important thoughts of 'does Ultra Gay exits because if so I am it.' "Since it's clear the two of you are more interested in disrupting my class than actually learning, I'm going to have to ask you both to leave."

"Wicked." Virgil replied immediately, once more catching the teacher off-guard as he stood up and pulled his backpack over his shoulder, shoving his book and pen into it in one fluid motion as he headed for the door.

Logan berated himself as he got up much less coordinately- not because he cared much for staying in class, but because he was about to leave it with the source of his current Gay Panic. He started to put the notebook away, trying not to bend the edges and failing miserably. He probably looked like a mess- an assessment that would not be totally untrue.

It didn't help when a second later someone was taking the book from him and actually getting it into the backpack, dropping what Logan recognized what his pen in as well before zipping it up and offering it to Logan. Logan took it, glancing up to see who was helping him, and immediately regretting it when he realized it was Virgil, expression extremely gentle as he more or less helped to pull Logan out of the classroom.

Logan wondered if his entire face was red yet.

Logan managed to at least somewhat come back to himself as he heard the classroom door shut, focusing on not tugging at his hair as he adjusted his grip on his backpack instead. He expected Virgil to head off on his way now that they were both out, but to Logan's mixed mortification and delight, he remained standing in front of Logan.

"You good, bro?" He asked, sounding more withdrawn now that he wasn't correcting their idiot of a teacher. But it was still the same voice, so Logan was still trying to not simply pass out from gay (something he used to not believe was possible- he used to be a foolish, foolish man). "You seem a little shaky."

If he had been talking to anyone else, Logan would have scoffed and answered sarcastically. As it all stood, Logan was lucky to have choked out, "Yeah" without a stutter.

Virgil nodded, not looking fully convinced but pressing on anyways. "Uh, thanks for helping back in class there. I know most kids in there don't give two fucks about the material. Hell, I normally don't stand up about it either, but he was going after eels man. They're like the snakes of the sea. Not cool." He said, chuckling lightly.

"Yeah." Came Logan's extremely smart and well put together reply.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're good? You seem a little... spaced out."

"Ye- I mean," Logan cleared his throat, shaking the one word his mouth seemed willing to work with him, "I'm fine."

"Sure. Listen..." Virgil trailed off. "Oh, uh, don't think I've got your name."

"It's Logay. I mean!" Logan nearly punched himself for that one. "Logan. It's Logan."

Virgil, however, seemed only amused by the slip. "Logan. Got it. Listen, Logan, we've got another twenty minutes before the next class starts, and I assume nothing important to do."

"Yes...?" Logan said hesitantly, confused as to where exactly Virgil was heading.

Then Virgil smiled and Logan's heart skipped a few dozen beats. "Wanna go waste some time at the coffee shop down the street? We can discuss some actual fish facts if you'd like."

Logan didn't respond, too busy short-circuiting. To be totally accurate, actually, he was having a complete system shutdown, the only thing being processed being that sentence and absolutely nothing else.

He blinked in shock when Virgil snapped his fingers in his face, looking a mix of cheerful and worried. "Uh, earth to Logan. You sure you-"

"Yes." Logan responded, very much delayed, before shaking his head as if to clear it. "Um, yes, I'd like to g-go waste time wi-with you."

Virgil's smile grew. "Nice." He said before grabbing Logan's wrist, starting to tug him towards the shop. Logan dearly hoped that Virgil was, alongside smart, beautiful, and absolutely wonderful, strong, because he was pretty sure his legs could no longer be trusted to support him as he more or less tumbled down the hall behind Virgil.

Virgil briefly glanced back, making sure Logan wasn't completely dead weight, still smiling. Despite the complete lack of control over his body (or perhaps because of it), Logan managed what must have seemed to be a drunk smile back at him, holding onto it even after Virgil looked forward once more.

So maybe he was going to have a heart attack caused directly by gayness the minute Virgil left to continue on with his day. He couldn't think of a better way to spend the last twenty minutes of his life.

[the--concertmaster]

Five

I felt like sharing this, although i really doubt anybody’s going to read it cause people don’t even look at my art, let alone read my full original fiction. Anyway, this is a short thriller that I wrote, and for the few people who might actually read this, enjoy! ________________________________________________________________ Perfection. 

Absolute beauty lay at my feet; porcelain white skin, half concealed by velvety black fabrics, a line of crimson running down a sleek, slender throat…Beautiful. 

I stood, admiring my work, mesmerised by my creation, yet I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t bask in this masterpiece longer, couldn’t indulge in the gorgeous piece of artwork, because I had to leave. Others didn’t appreciate my work.I fled, moments later, waiting till morning to break. My work will have been discovered, it’ll be all over the news. I’d go to work, act just as shocked and concerned as ever one of those naïve imbeciles. Nobody will ever suspect that I created that little piece of Excellency. 

Daybreak. I got up at 5:00am ready for work knowing what an aberrant day it would be. I didn’t even bother switching on the news or reading the paper knowing the headline already, “The Calendar Killer strikes Number Four!” That’s what they call me; my little alias. It’s so utterly clichéd and straight forward, but it was the most appropriate name to use after they finally linked together my…work. The people I work with can be so simple minded sometimes; so utterly boring.  

Numerous individuals brushed past me at work today, all flustered and frenzied. I just walked through the crowd, enthralled by this little bit of anarchy I created. I couldn’t help myself, I just had to smile. I couldn’t blame them, they are only human and fear is something innate in all. The Police examined the photos of my craft, wait for the other police to report back from the scene, hiding their terror with rage. The Forensics worked hard at finding evidence via swabs and prints collected earlier, rather pointlessly I might add; I don’t leave any evidence. 

I peered through an office window as the commissioner ranted to his poor lieutenant, complaining about how I must be stopped. I never have understood why though; those lives that I took to create lavish beauty were worthless, people will cry, and be upset and get over it. People really are quite pitiful. I stared at them longer, watching, waiting for a time to intrude.Eventually the Commissioner caught my gaze, still infuriated. 

“You!” He bellowed at me as I kept my calm composure. The lieutenant turned her head to face me, curiosity etched on her face yet still being so charming, charismatic... still being so enticing. “Get in here! You’re the psychologist aren’t you?” I stepped into the office not at all perturbed by the summoning. He thrust some papers into my hand; pictures of my previous three victims plus the dear paragon I formed last night. Among the photos were four notes, made from newspaper cuttings, each holding encrypted information of each of my ‘killings’, as they call them. They containing every tiny bit of information from where the artwork was made, to who the artwork was, to the exact minute it was formed. I gave them everything, but, of course, the police department were always to half-witted to understand the letter… before it was too late. Yes, I know, it’s clichéd, but it’s just so amusing watching them all squabble over those letters.

I pretended to examine all the evidence before stating, “This ‘Calendar Killer’ clearly fits all the properties of a serial killer. They are most likely rather introverted and commonly go around un-noticed by society; most likely this has been happening since they were a child. Because of this, they have a burning desire to be recognised, and go to the extreme to fulfil this desire.” I glanced up at the lieutenant who regarded me with interest. The Commissioner seemed far less concerned.

“Ok, got it, the killer is a loner; big surprise. Any ideas on what they’ll be doing next?” The Commissioner replied, clearly not understanding the importance of what I just told them. His loss.

“Obviously,” I answered, “As we all know, he’s the Calendar Killer. I assume he’ll stick to that. The first victim, Matilda Rose was born on the First of January, 1991. Alana Cross, the second victim was born on the Second of February, 1992, Madison Cadence, number three was born on the Third of the Third, 1993 and our final victim, Clara Lizeworth, the Fourth of the Fourth, 1994. Hardly a coincidence. Our next victim will be on the Fifth of the fifth, 1995.” The lieutenant seemed to wince, obviously disturbed by my statement. “Is there anything wrong, Miss Kyle?” I asked, fascinated by her sudden jerk.

 “It’s nothing,” she hesitantly answered before returning to her usual poise, “It’s just you said that as if you don’t care at all for the girls who were killed, that their lives weren’t worth anything.” The Commissioner seemed to examine me studiously at the lieutenant’s accusation. I didn’t react; it’s exactly what they wanted me to do; like I’d allow them such pleasures.

“When working with murder, theft and crime all day, every day, one learns to be obdurate, Miss Kyle. People die all the time, best not to cry about over them all,” I stated smoothly, not changing my tone or stumbling on words.

“Just go,” the Commissioner sighed, seemingly annoyed that I hadn’t provided much ‘valuable’ information, “you have work to do.”

I took my leave without another word, since for once the Commissioner was right about something. I had a lot of work to do. I had to find out the real reason for Lieutenant Kyle’s unexplained twitch. Everything about her reply was clearly just an excuse to escape telling her true fear. 

I shut myself in my office locking all five locks on the door, pulling up excessive files on my laptop. Profiles; all the faces of my beautiful victims, plus all the information needed to strike number five. It was true that nobody could have been a better target than Lieutenant Alara Kyle. She fit perfectly; she was charismatic, charming and beautiful; a paragon. Nothing could create better artwork. It was also awfully convenient that she was born on the fifth of the fifth, 1995. That poor girl, no wonder why she was so worried. It was too much of an excitement,

 I literally ran to the sweet Lieutenants office, knocking on the door quickly five times.

 “Lieutenant Kyle,” I panted, as she stared at me with a baffled look on her innocent face, “I have reasons to believe that you are in immediate danger.” Then that innocent look on her face dropped, the colour draining from it as I tried my best not smirk and to stay serious. “So you know?” she breathed so softly I could barely make it out. I nodded.“You need protection,” I told her.“No,” she sighed, exasperated, “no, no, no… This killer might not even know what my birthday is, I shouldn’t get so worked up about it.”Oh, how wrong she was. 

“Lieutenant Kyle,” I replied, trying to hide the excitement in my voice and keep a straight face, “Alara, you misunderstood me. I don’t suggest you go to any of the other police- you’re right in thinking that telling someone could lead the killer to you. I’m offering my protection.”Her eyebrows raised, a bewildered look on her face.

 “You?” she seemed so close to laughter I almost took offense. She wouldn’t be laughing soon.

“The killer is less likely to attack if you’re with someone else,” I shrugged. She seemed to be considering my offer, and we stood in an unpleasant silence for a few moments. 

Then she nodded.

“Alright,” she decided, looking at me with an uneasily. “I’ll stay with you tonight. What time does your shift finish?” I bit my lip to stop the smirk from creeping onto my face.

 “I retire at 5:00 tonight. Shall I meet you at the front of the station?”She nodded and I bid my farewell to her till five but just before I left her office I turned back to her and added one more thing.“Don’t tell anybody about this, alright? You never know who you can trust.” 

5:00. 

I met the Lieutenant outside the station, nodding to her to acknowledge her presence. We started to stroll slowly through the streets, to where I supposedly ‘lived’, Alara oblivious to where I was actually taking her. In reality, I was leading her to an alley that was now in disuse in order to create my art. We arrived at the entrance of the backstreet and I started to walk down it. The Lieutenant seemed more hesitant.

 “Just this way Alara,” I cooed gently, causing her to shiver, but she did as I said and headed towards me. Perfect.I pulled out my slim, sliver dagger and pressed it to her throat. A small scream elicited from her throat, a sweet escape of sound. I pressed the blade harder, drawing out deep scarlet. She started falling limp, just getting slightly weaker, ceasing to struggle; it was almost too easy. 

 Chaos erupted seconds later. A cacophony of sirens filled my ears; the static screeches of speaker telling me release the lieutenant. I could vaguely see the heads of a dozen guns past the blur of spotlights and flashing sirens, all cocked and aimed towards me.

“Lower your weapon Dr Blaine!” she screamed, as I heard another voice yelling through a speaker, “Let her go or we’ll fire at will.” I loosened my grip, temporarily distracted by all the noise. It ruined my little piece of perfection. They had stolen this moment from me.The Lieutenant had felt my momentary distraction, elbowing me in the chest, kicking me to the ground. 

“Did you really think I would just believe you like that? You yourself you don’t know who you can trust!” She yelled at me, before composing herself, a smirk coming onto her face, “Dr Blaine,” she sighed pulling out a pistol, cocking it at my forehead, blood oozing down her throat, anger, fear and hatred in her eyes, “You’re under arrest, for the murder of four innocent women, and attempted murder of a fifth.”                                                                                                         ……………………………………………  Cold air gushed around me as I stared around my cell. Rusted bars separated me from the rest of the world, everyone else enjoying the comfort of the ‘Calendar killer’ being locked away, thinking that the streets were now safe. They all were so innocent, so sweet… so delusional. That comfort wouldn’t last long. The walls had gawking gaps, which all called to me, seducing me to work at them. The bent rusted bars that covered my window already looked like they would give way. I saw a calendar on the wall and I smeared a deep crimson cross on today’s date. It shouldn’t take me more than five days to escape… five days… five.

[mlnmoongle]

Love Speaks in Flowers

Genre:  Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Fluff and Smut, Eventual Romance, Awkward Romance

Pairings: TaoHun;

Rating: Mature;

Length: Chaptered - 3/12;

Note: WIP;

Warnings: Smut, Semi-public;

Summary: Sehun's mundane job as a florist clerk is the same day in and day out. Until one rainy morning brings a change in Sehun's life in the form of Tao, a tattoo artist next door, and Sehun's not sure he's ready for him.

Sehun opened Twenty Flowers again today. He had a real love-hate relationship with opening shifts. The love came from getting off early to have the rest of the day off and the hate came from waking up early and having to deal with customers, but so far, today wasn't an awful day. There were only a few hiccups that occurred but were easily settled so before long by mid-noon, Sehun was assisting the last customer. Since Sehun was working the shop alone today, Junmyeon allowed whoever was working a shift alone a full hour break with the store closed. Preferably around the same time daily, but Sehun was running behind. Sehun very politely smiled and nodded at the customer's lame jokes as he was finishing up with him. The customer talked Sehun's ear off as Sehun walked him to the door. He stood with a strained smile as the man finished up his story and it was then that Sehun was politely urging the man out the door. Once the customer left Sehun immediately locked the door and flipped the plastic Will Return sign and sighed in relief, leaning against the door. At last, Sehun had a whole half hour to himself to sit and eat or nap, whichever sounded more appealing honestly, but before he did that Sehun needed to clean off the mess on the counter. So he walked back to the front and started cleaning off the counter, discarding stems and petals and leaves and whatever else was sprawled across the white top. He already felt more relaxed with the area being neat and tidy now. Sehun was still full from breakfast so he opted to not eat lunch and instead laid his head down on his folded arms at the counter. He really wasn't expecting to nap but just closing his eyes and resting his mind was good enough. The last few days have been stressful for him. Emotionally exhausting, actually. His mind has been non-stop thinking about his talk with Jongin and Tao and how complicated this all felt. Not that it needed to be complicated but Sehun couldn't make up his mind, or feelings. In his defense, he didn't know anything about Tao, but in Tao's defense, going on a date would solve that sad excuse. However, Sehun couldn't help but think back to dating Chanyeol. Chanyeol was also handsome and charming but left Sehun, so what would stop Tao from doing the same? Sehun groaned. This was stupid, so stupid, he was over Chanyeol, he was. A jarred clunking noise interrupted his thoughts and Sehun rolled his eyes. "Can't people read?" He mumbled to himself, not bothering to look up at the door because maybe if he played dead the moronic customer trying to get into the shop would eventually go away. So he ignored it. Then not even a minute later the phone was ringing. Sehun desperately wanted to ignore that too, but the last time he intentionally ignored a phone call almost ended in his termination, and he wasn't going to risk that again. With a heavy sigh, but not opening his eyes, Sehun answered the phone. "Hi, thank you for calling Twenty Flowers. How can I help you?" He intoned, and oh my god, he was not expecting the voice on the other line. "Hey!" “You." Sehun breathed and snapped his eyes open to gaze out the window to see Tao, waving to him outside the shop. "Hi. Did you know the door is locked?" Came Tao's familiar, husky voice. Sehun exhaled heavily. "I'm aware." He drawled. "Oh." Tao made a small noise on the other end. "Can I come in?" "I'm on my lunch break," Sehun informed, his tone still steady. "Great! Cause I brought lunch." Sehun watched Tao hold up a small bag, and he could only sigh. "If you must," Sehun droned, not sure if Tao was aware of his tone because Tao was smiling wide. Hanging up the phone, Sehun slid off the stool and made his way over to the door. He took one look at Tao grin as he unlatched the door. Sehun had no idea why he was doing this, but he was stepping aside anyway and letting Tao into the shop. "Hi." Tao said pointlessly, and Sehun offered a soft, "Hey" of his own. "It was good timing, wasn't it?" Tao strolled over to the counter and sat the small bag down. He immediately started unpacking the goodies he brought. Sehun eyed him as he did, walking back to the counter to sit on the stool again. "Was this really a coincidence or are you stalking me?" Sehun asked, attempting a joke if his small smirk indicated anything. Tao burst out a laugh and shook his head. "I promise you, I'm not stalking you. It's just...I don't know, a universal lunchtime?" Sehun gave Tao a questioning, but amused look. "Yeah because that makes a lick of sense..." He rolled his eyes but there was no animosity behind it. Tao laughed lightly and placed a small container in front of Sehun and then himself. "I hope noodles are okay. I don't know what you like, but they're pretty generic, I suppose." Sehun looked down at the container before scooting it away back towards Tao. "Wow you sure know how to make a meal sound mouth-watering," his tone clearly sarcastic and whether Tao caught on to it was beyond him, "But I'm not actually hungry..." He watched Tao's face compress as he stopped fidgeting with his own container. "Oh. Then we don't have to eat." Tao grabs Sehun's container to put it back into the pack and then tightened the lid on his own to put it away, too. "Well, that doesn't mean you don't have to eat." Sehun reached out to lightly grab Tao's hand to stop him from putting his portion away. "I don't mind if you eat..." But Tao didn't respond because he was too busy looking at Sehun's hand that was lightly grasping his wrist. Sehun pulled his hand back when he made eye contact with Tao and cleared his throat, folding his arms close to himself. He tried to fight the heat crawling across his face when he added, "I mean unless it's awkward for you? I really don't care either way..." Tao gave a small smile and pulled his container back out to open it. "It's not awkward, and besides...I'm starving." His smile turned sheepish and Sehun couldn't help but give his own small smile. As Tao ate, Sehun took it upon himself to get a good look at Tao. Now that he wasn’t dripping wet he actually looked like a decent human rather than a wet dog. Tao had his bleached hair messily pulled up in a small bun on the top of his head, some pieces hanging loosely over his forehead. His messy bedhead look was complemented by a sleeveless logo t-shirt and dark jeans. Of course, Tao would wear sleeveless shirts and pants that made his ass look absolutely fuckable. And Sehun was positive Tao didn’t wear a sleeveless shirt because of the summer heat or tattoos, or for comfort, but so he could flaunt his toned arms in front of him. Sehun was sure of this. Also, Sehun noticed Tao was wearing thin-rimmed glasses this time, too, and his eyes weren’t a striking light blue anymore but instead a soft brown. He looked absolutely gorgeous. Sehun couldn't keep his eyes off him and was starting to feel hungry. Minutes pass in silence with only the sounds of Tao’s soft chewing and the light outside noises filling the space. Sehun propped his chin in his palm as he watched Tao inhaled his lunch, wondering if he's even tasting it. “What are you doing here?” Sehun finally asked with an indignant expression on his face. Tao swallowed the mouthful he had. Sehun watched Tao's throat move with the action. “Eating lunch?” Tao answered.

Sehun clicked his tongue. “Obviously. I meant, why are you here? A flower shop isn't typically a hot spot for dining.” He quipped.

“Oh. Well, I'm going to buy flowers, too, of course.” Tao answered easily and added, “You said I could come back if I was a paying customer, and when I’m finished eating and you’re off break then I will be.” He smiled as he slurped up a noodle.

Lovely. “You literally just bought flowers not even two days ago.” Sehun pointed out. Tao smiled fondly. “Yeah, I know.” Uhg, why did he have to look at him like that? Brushing off the heat in his chest, Sehun composed himself again. “Let me guess. More Lilies?” Sehun asked dryly. Tao shrugged. ���Hmm...Sure.” “‘Sure’,” Sehun repeated mockingly. Then with a cruel smile, he asked, “Did you just come here to bother me while I work?” Tao’s eyes gleamed dangerously. “Hm. Maaaybe.” A playful yet mischievous smirk spreading across his face as he packed the empty container back into the bag.

Sehun took a minute to retort because what were they doing right now? Were they flirting? Was he really allowing this? Sehun hummed, smirking. “Well, you’re out of luck then.” He started, narrowing his eyes at Tao, but Tao only leaned in closer, grinning now. “And why’s that?” He questioned.

"Because, you can only stay if you’re buying flowers, if not then you need to leave.” Sehun snarked, feeling triumphant in his retort. “Okay. Then I want those. Right over there.” As far as Sehun knows, Tao pointed in a random direction to one of the many racks of flower displays and Sehun followed with his eyes to which he was pointing to. “The... Chrysanthemums?” Sehun deadpanned, looking at Tao. Tao bit back an amused chuckle when he heard Sehun’s, barely audible, lisp. It was incredibly endearing. “Mhm. Those exactly.” Tao was still leaning on the counter, still close to Sehun’s proximity. Sehun could smell the faint aroma of peach radiating off Tao and it suited him so well, Sehun thought. With Tao being so close to Sehun, he was able to skim Tao's whole upper body greedily, to take in the details that he missed from the last time. Taking a quick glance at Tao’s arms, Sehun skimmed his beautiful tattoos again. Somehow they deemed from eye-catching today than the other day. Maybe it was because Tao's skin was just glowing today. The way that Tao had his arms folded under his chest made his biceps flex and, god, they looked so firm and delicious just like chest. Sehun was thankful that he was sitting because the sight made his knees weak.

Blinking the salacious thoughts from his mind, Sehun reminded himself that he needed to keep this professional and end the shameless flirting. So putting on his best poker face, Sehun stared at Tao for a moment, internally debating if he should even bother asking the number of Chrysanthemums he wanted or what color. Unfortunately, that was part of his job so crossing his arms, Sehun finally asked, “Okay then. What color?”

Tao pursed his lips in consideration. “Violet?” He answered unsurely. Sehun hummed acknowledgment with a small nod. “Alrighty. How many?” “Ah! I want a bushel!” Tao answered right away, and proudly as if he’s been waiting for Sehun to ask. He probably thought it was a step up from the other day when he used a ‘bunch’ as an amount. Sehun gave a deadpan expression as he mouthed ‘a bushel’ and it took everything Sehun had to not to tell Tao to just leave.

“A ‘bushel’ isn’t a specified amount, Tao” Sehun informed flatly. “So if you don’t tell me how many you actually want, then I’ll have to just guess and charge you for whatever amount I pick.” He warned but Tao hunched his shoulders in a small shrug. “That’s fine. Surprise me.” He says airily, however, there was a challenging tone in his voice. With that, Tao leaned closer, If possible. He wasn't quite laying on the top of the counter, but he might as well be, and now Sehun was able to get a good whiff of Tao’s scent. Aside from the light peach scent, he could also smell Tao’s natural, virile spice mixed with a light antiperspirant. He smelled so damn good, and it stood out strongly even amongst the other aromas of the flowers and plants.

And to add insult to injury, the way Tao was leaning over the counter made the collar of his shirt hang low, giving Sehun had a clear view down his sun-kissed chest. Sehun only glanced for a moment but Tao must have followed his eyes because Tao was grinning wickedly, but before he could say anything Sehun was moving, walking around the counter and to the plant racks despite the light swelling against his pants. Luckily, he was wearing an apron so nothing was visible, he hoped. But for good measure, Sehun asked offhandedly, “So, are these for references again?” He was desperate to cut the tension between them because Sehun knew his face was red because he could feel it, and he knew there was a subtle tremble his voice because he could hear it betraying his stoic demeanor. Sehun hated this. He hated how attractive Tao was even when he wasn’t intentionally doing anything, and he hated how riled up he got over nothing. Sehun wanted nothing more than to run into the back room to hide or jerk off. Sehun had to lean down to gather the Chrysanthemums, and as he waited for a response he braved a brief glance over his shoulder at Tao, just in time to see Tao quickly avert his eyes up and to his face. “Huh?” Tao asked dumbly.

Sehun’s ears were probably red now, too. He turned back to the flowers. “ The Chrysanthemums. Are they for a reference piece or?” He asked again.

“Oh. No. Just for me.” Tao answered quickly, and Sehun stood up, turning to look at Tao with a raised brow. “Uh, my apartment is looking a little dull, so I thought these would brighten it up or something,” Tao explained, straightening up as Sehun was back behind the counter. Sehun nodded, setting the flowers down. “Well, these are a good pick…” He mumbled. “Good to know.” Tao smiled. Sehun ended up not picking an outrageous amount of Chrysanthemums and actually picked out enough for what he thought would look decent in a vase. Which reminded him, “You have a vase, right?” Sehun asked, bending down to grab tissue paper that was stored on a shelf below the counter. Tao was quiet for a moment as if the question was some kind of test. So, taking it as such he answered what he thought would please Sehun the most.  “...Yes?” His response was weak and a dead giveaway that he was lying, but Sehun didn't call him out on it and instead shrugged it off with a simple. “Okay.” Sehun tapped in the numbers to ring up tao's total. They exchanged money and with that, Sehun said, “Well then, you’re all set to go.” with a small smile, but Tao didn’t move.

“Did you need something else…?” Sehun asked. “Do you want to get coffee later?” Tao blurted out. “No,” Sehun replied quickly. Tao’s brows furrowed, all hope disappearing from his face. “Why not?” This conversation felt like deja vu. “Because I don’t like coffee,” he lied. “Do you like lunch?” “Yes.” “Then how about we go get lunch sometime?” Tao tried again. “No.” “Breakfast?” “Wha.. -No?” "Dinner?” “Uhg. Tao, why are you so persistent?” Sehun asked, feeling exasperated and the start of a small headache forming. “Because I like you,” Tao’s answer was simple and embarrassingly blunt. “You don’t know me,” Sehun reminded him crossly. “Well, I could get to know you if you would give me the chance to.” Tao countered. Shit. Well, he wasn’t wrong. Sehun was silent for a long moment and considered Tao's offer, but he rejected the thought immediately. Tao wasn’t awful or anything, and in fact, it really wasn’t about Tao at all. Sehun was keeping himself guarded because he didn’t want to fall and trip on his face for another gorgeous, charming, funny guy again. Sehun looked down at the counter and avoided Tao’s face and the question. “If you don’t need anything then else then please go. I have to get back to work.” He spoke softly, barely a mumble. Because Sehun refused to look at Tao as he rejected him for the second time, there was no way for Sehun to see the hurt expression on Tao’s face and how Tao quickly covered it up with a small, frayed smile. “Alright. I’ll let you get back to work. See you around, Hunnie.” Tao grabbed his flowers and lunch pack and headed out the door. Sehun only looked up when he heard the door chime open then chime shut. Sehun went home exhausted that night.