#I said something about not messing up my painting and sun just laughed at me when I turned around

[bellalunadreams]

Okay hear me out, art thief Sun and Moon and art restorer Y/n

[oatbugs]

lightning fried our satellite dish and now we are alone

[huntingingoodwill]

personal shopping (d.b.)

masterlist

pairing: dieter bravo x personal shopper! reader

desc: your newest client, dieter bravo, braves the outside world to flirt with you at the farmer’s market. though it defeats the point of hiring a personal shopper, you’ll let him, ‘cuz he’s cute. you’ll play hard to get though. (and mention that javi gutierrez is your favourite celeb client, just to make him jealous)

“He said he needs someone to ‘deal with groceries and shit’ so he can ‘meditate on his art’, which is probably a euphemism for doing coke and wearing the same sweatpants for a week. Don’t tell him I said that.” Lia sighed.

She had introduced herself as Dieter’s personal assistant’s assistant, which you thought was slight overkill, but you weren’t in any position to judge. You had now joined her in Dieter’s league of many ‘personals’. He had a personal assistant, a personal chef, a personal trainer, and now you were his personal shopper.

She led you through his mansion in the hills, thrusting you into the nucleus of his ‘meditation’: a cavernous living room cluttered with empty liquor bottles and designer furniture covered in paint splatter.

“Lee-uhhhhhhh.” Dieter lay face down on the plush carpet, which you thought was quite an unconventional meditation position. “What time is it?”

You watched as he nuzzled his head into the crook of his elbow, trying to block out the rays of sun that shot through the windows. His soft, unruly curls caught the light, glowing warm in the sun as the nape of his neck prickled with sweat.

“10:30, Mr. Bravo.” Lia said, her voice artificially chipper.

“In the morning?” He grumbled, rolling onto his back.

You caught sight of his face, the skin dipping between his brow as he furrowed it, rubbing a hand across the stubble peppered across his jaw. Despite looking an absolute mess, he still looked cuter than he did in his shitty movies. You admired the curve of his nose and his disgruntled, sleepy profile as he kept his eyes closed against the sun. The tan skin of his bare torso was visible beneath an oversized teddy jacket, paired with sweatpants slung low on his hips.

“Was it really necessary to wake me up at this ungodly hour?“ He blinked sleep from his eyes, the irises dark and honeyed as they glimmered in the light.

He caught sight of you, a sudden glint sparking alight in his eyes. His mouth, set with displeasure only a moment ago, began to break out in a smile. He looked up at you, dishevelled and adoring. “Oh. Hello.”

“Hello, Mr. Bravo.” You smirked, watching him scramble to his feet amongst the clutter of crushed paint tubes. You held out your hand.

“Call me Dieter. All my friends call me Dieter.” He intercepted your hand, fingers lingering appreciatively. “We’re gonna be friends, aren’t we?”

You tried to stifle a laugh. As soon as he looked at you you knew he’d be a relentless flirt. It was cute, in a pathetic way.

“I think I’m gonna be your employee, Mr. Bravo.” You corrected, ever the professional. He was cute, but there was no harm in making him work for it a little. “I was just about to head to the market, so I wanted to ask if you have a budget, or any dietary restrictions-”

“Let Mr. Bravo get back to his painting, I can fill you in on the details-” Lia began.

“I can explain everything.” Dieter interrupted. “I’ll even come along.” He said, shoving off his jacket. You felt heat creep up your cheeks as you eyed the broad expanse of his back, the muscle beneath the skin pulling taut as he searched for a clean shirt, pulling it over his head.

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of hiring a personal shopper?”

“We’ll call it a trial run. Just so you know what I like. Or we could call it something else. ‘First date’ has a nice ring to it.” He grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulder, a sensation that felt nicer than you cared to admit.

“You come on strong, don’t you?” You mumbled through a derisive smile, feeling his ego expand as you allowed him to keep his arm around you.

“Always.”

“Don’t you have some artistic meditation to do? Lia said you weren’t interested in ‘groceries and shit’.” You said, sidling through the stalls of the farmer’s market.

The cramped little lanes were filled with people, recognition flashing in their eyes as they caught sight of Dieter, who trailed after you.

“This is artistic meditation. I’m watching my new muse at work.” He said matter-of-factly, swinging your basket, which he had offered to carry for you, in his hand. His rings stood out starkly, flashing against the wicker handle.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a grin.

“Lia gave me a list of ingredients your personal chef needs, but do you have any other requests? Any ingredients for when your chef has an off day?”

“I don’t cook. When he has an off day, I just deliver.” Dieter adjusted his sunglasses, which you were starting to believe were less of a means to disguise himself from the prying eyes of the public and more because his hangover couldn’t bear the light. “Just buy me whatever, as long as it’s organic, cage free, GMO free, chemical free…” He said, taking a sip of water from his bottle.

You internally groaned. Though you were used to these buzzwords being haphazardly thrown about by your other clients without really knowing what they meant, you were hoping he’d be exempt.

“Water is a chemical compound.” You muttered, stopping in front of a produce stall, fruits and vegetables enticingly overflowing from the crates before you.

You could see his eyes widening behind the dark lenses of his shades from the corner of your eye as he spat the water back into its bottle.

“Water is a chemical?!” He spluttered.

You arched an eyebrow. “And I saw five KitKat wrappers on your carpet this morning.”

“We all make mistakes.” He chuckled, wicking away water from his mouth as he watched you reach for a lemon, its peel a vibrant yellow. “But that’s unimportant. Will you go out with me?”

A smile broke out across your face, unable to hide your amusement at his direct nature. You handed him the lemon, admiring the black ink of his tattoos etched across his skin as he extended his arm to place it in the basket.

“I don’t date men who can’t cook.”

“You’ll have to teach me then. It can be our second date.” He ran his hand through his hair, teeth flashing in a smile. His hair, already tousled, seemed to become even more unruly, and you resisted the urge to run your hand through it to help him fix it.

“Not part of my job description. I just help my clients buy what they need. Groceries, furniture, clothes… but I doubt you’re very interested in the last one.” You smirked, pointedly looking at his feet, clad in crocs and socks.

He looked down at the fashion offence he was adorned with, shrugging. “Fashion is a social construct. I’d wear a different pair of shoes if you’d go out with me, though.”

“I don’t go out with my clients.” You said, voice bubbling with laughter.

“But if you had to go out with any of your clients, it’d be me, right?”

“It’d probably be…” You wracked your mind, going through your list of clients to find a suitable candidate. “Javi Gutierrez.”

“That hack?”

“I don’t think he’s a hack!” You laughed, defensive. “He’s a good actor.”

“I’m a good actor.” He exclaimed, only to be met with your raised eyebrows and a shrug as you turned toward the next stall.

“Your silence speaks volumes.” He mumbled, faking a hurt tone as he followed close behind you.

“If you like him so much, some people say I look like Javi. We could always play pretend.” He smirked.

You put down the jar of honey you were examining, scanning Dieter up and down, as if trying to look for a resemblance.

“Hmm… don’t see it.” You sighed nonchalantly, refocusing your attention on the neatly stacked rows of jars before you.

“Since you think so highly of Javi, what do you think of me?” Dieter said, a crush of people moving through the lane forcing him close to you. You tried to keep your cool as you held his intense gaze, the cologne he spritzed on before he left the house deep and musky, the vivid scent clouding your senses. You swallowed thickly.

“I think you’re pretentious and hedonistic.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” He smiled, feigning innocence.

“Are you in denial, or do you just have a small vocabulary?”

“Can’t it be both?” He laughed. He looked around, making sure no one was watching, before dipping toward you, his lips barely ghosting the curve of your ear, his husky voice ringing in your head. “If you think using your big words to insult me will scare me off, you’re wrong. It just makes me more attracted to you.”

“Good.” You said, praying he wouldn’t feel the heat radiating off you, a blush blooming across your jaw. You ignored the playful smile on his face, keeping your hands busy as you aimlessly picked through produce. You bought a ripe apple, wiping it clean on your shirt.

Dieter’s eyes lingered on your lips as you took a bite, the crisp skin breaking beneath your teeth.

“So, you’ll go out with me?” He asked.

He held out his hand, and before you even registered what was happening, you had given him the apple, the red, glossy skin gleaming against his rough palm. He took a bite, the fruit’s flesh crunching as juice dribbled down his forearm, tracing the veins beneath his skin.

“Not happening.”

[lovelynim]

omggg, congrats on your milestone Fabi, i'm so happy for u <3🪷✨ for the request, uh- may i humbly suggest writing something with lee!Rafayel and ler!Reader? maybe using him as a canvas for real lol- i'm- i'm sorry it's just- ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ🤌🏻

I didn't expect this many Rafayel's fans to show up in such a short amount of time, hahaha

But since you guys want to see him get got so much, who am I to disagree? ~

Also, my apologies to the last anon, but I'm smushing you together with the other two since it's the same characters, hope you don't mind!

Thin, thick, long and soft brushes, all scattered around your canvas. A color palette with different shades of red, yellow and orange, perfect to paint a beautiful sunset. If the canvas in question wasn’t putting so much effort in trying to run away, this would probably be the most peaceful painting session you ever experienced. But as Rafayel, a great and known artist once said, “chaos is a symbol of wisdom, every genius has a messy desk”.

“If you don’t stop moving, I’m going to have to start all over, Rafayel,” you tease him, keeping a firm grip around his wrists while you drag the paintbrush all the way from his forearm down to his ribs, leaving a light yellow trace behind. 

“Sohohomeohohone, hehEHEHelp!! T-thihihis is tohohorturehEHEHE!!” Rafayel cried out as if this was some kind of murder attempt. However, no matter how much he pleaded or begged, his words wouldn’t make it to your heart - not this time, not after testing your patience for so damn long.

You click your tongue, shaking your head, pretending to pity the poor artists. “Torture? This is art, Rafayel. And art is supposed to be felt, right?” You smirked, not caring the least about the fresh drops of paint sliding down your canvas and tainting the floor underneath him. “Now, I think we could use some red here,” you explained calmly while Rafayel watched in horror while you dipped the paintbrush in the red ink and brought it back to your canvas - also known as his bare torso.

“NohoHOHOH!!” He laughed, kicking his feet like a little kid throwing a tantrum, but there was no way you were going to let him go this easy. “Plehehehease! I sahAHahaid I’m sohohorry!”

He twisted and turned his body away, trying to avoid at all costs the brush covered in ink that was dancing over his stomach, tickling his tummy with soft and quick strokes, one after the other, over and over again.

“You should feel sorry for making me work so hard just to paint a little,” you grunted, tightening your grip around his wrists while you circled his navel with the paint brush. With a sadistic look on your eyes, you admired his face - a complete mess of laughter, you could barely tell the drops of paint and the natural blush on his cheeks apart. Cute. “Now, I think we need to add another layer of orange here, the colors are a bit bland…”

“AHahAHAHA, i-it’s goohohohod! N-no mohohore lahahayers!!” He laughed, gasping when you tried to draw a little awkward-shaped sun on his chest. The redness on his cheeks was starting to spread down to his neck, the colors of his skin mixing with the ones from the ink, creating something that actually looked like a sunset - well, maybe if you squint your eyes a little, but still a sunset. 

“Ahaha- p-please!” Rafayel wheezed, dropping his head back into the floor tiredly, trying to catch up his breath. His body trembled, tingling all over. “Y-you should let… t-the ink dry before… continuing…”

With the paintbrush still in your hand, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. 

[steves-strapcollection]

i could be honest, i could be human [Steddie WIP snippet]

THIS FIC IS NOW COMPLETE

Read it on my writing blog @gerrystamour (see pinned post) or on AO3

Here is a snippet of a fic I'm working on that is kind of a "5 times Eddie asks Steve who hurt him + 1 time he actually does something about it" and takes place over the course of the show and into post-S4 territory. When it's done it'll be 6 chapters and will be rated E. Mostly I need eyes that aren't mine to see it.

Steve Harrington did not feel sorry for himself.

Sorry? Absolutely. For himself? No.

He felt sorry for how he treated Nancy, for what he said to Jonathan, how he let Tommy make a mess of the Hawk’s sign. But not for himself, even if he couldn’t blink without wincing and something smarted when he moved his jaw. Even if his knuckles ached and a molar was wiggling a bit too much for his comfort. The way Steve figured it, all together that was roughly only half of what he deserved.

Getting the shit beat out of him for being an idiot wasn’t necessarily unfamiliar to him, though the low-grade agony in his face was.

With a heavy sigh, Steve dipped the rag into the bucket of pink, soapy water and returned to scrubbing the red spray paint off the Hawk’s sign. It was slow-going, and the sun was setting, but he had just a bit of the last letter to clean, and then he would be done. He would be free to go home and figure out his next move.

He didn’t have any more friends, what with his fight with Tommy and Carol, and he was pretty sure he didn’t have a girlfriend anymore. Not after his stunning display of class and conflict resolution.

“Well, well, well,” came a sarcastic, yet excited voice from below. “If it isn’t the King of Hawkins High himself, Steve Harrington.”

Steve groaned, the title bringing a sour taste to his mouth. Some king he supposedly was. He didn’t even recognize the voice, but that didn’t say much; Steve probably wouldn’t recognize the voices of most of the kids he went to school with because he was exactly that sort of asshole.

“Didn’t know you could actually do honest work,” the person continued, and the comment stung a bit, even if it was a fair assumption. “Though is it honest work if you made the mess in the first place?”

“Look man, I get it—” Steve started as he looked down, deliberately angling his face to hide the bruising, and abruptly froze.

Beaming gleefully up at Steve was the Freak. Something-Munson. His first name was escaping Steve, and not for any reason that was good or defensible.

Steve knew him by appearance and reputation alone, and he was pretty sure he could count the facts he knew about him on one hand. He dressed weird, had long hair, listened to shitty music, had an even shittier van, and dealt drugs. He had seen Tommy meet with him before they went to parties enough times to know at least that much. In the end, Steve had almost exclusively only heard him referred to as either the Freak or simply Munson.

“You were saying, Harrington?” Munson urged; his grin was broad but mean.

“What do you want, Munson?” Steve asked instead, returning to his chore.

“Heard from a little birdy that you were reduced to janitorial work. Obviously, I had to see that for myself before I would believe it,” he replied easily, and Steve scoffed.

“You came all the way out here just to watch me clean a sign? I’m honoured,” Steve muttered darkly.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was already in the neighbourhood,” Munson said, and Steve heard the unmistakable sound of a lighter being flicked. When Steve glanced back down, Munson was leaning against the light post and taking a long drag from a cigarette.

“C’mon, man,” Steve practically whined as he scrubbed the last of the graffiti off the sign. He was done his chore and he really didn’t want to deal with Munson’s smug face when he climbed down and revealed his bruised face. “I know I’ve been a douchebag—”

“Been? You’ve been a douchebag? As in past-tense?” Munson asked with a loud, bitter laugh. Steve could hear the eyeroll in Munson’s voice when he added, “I don’t think you get to decide when you aren’t a douchebag anymore, Harrington.”

Steve was at a loss with that, wracking his brain for a single time he was ever rude or mean to Munson. The thing was, Steve was never deliberately mean to people, his fight earlier with Jonathan notwithstanding; he just didn’t care, or tried to seem like he didn’t, as if he was above caring. For fuck’s sake, Steve couldn’t even remember Munson’s first name.

Tommy and Carol were the mean ones, and he did nothing try to stop them. How many times, unbeknown to Steve, had Tommy harassed Munson and his friends? Or how many times had Steve just tuned it out?

“Fine! I know I am a douchebag, but don’t you think this is kinda childish?” Steve grumbled, crossing his arms over the top of the ladder and dropping his forehead onto them.

“Oh, it definitely is,” Munson agreed happily, and Steve shouted when the whole ladder shook. Munson had kicked it lightly, just enough to rock it but not so much that it actually fell over. “Gonna stay up there forever, Harrington?”

“Not forever,” Steve replied, shrugging. “Just until you get bored and leave.”

“Then you’ll be up there forever,” Munson sing-songed. “C’mon, Harrington. I don’t bite, promise.”

Steve felt his face heat, his chest and stomach fluttering with an emotion he couldn’t place immediately. Shame? Humiliation? He stopped inspecting those thoughts too closely and climbed down.

When Steve was back on solid ground, he turned to face Munson and stood up straight. He was taller than Steve by just a bit, but it was enough that he had to look up slightly to meet his eyes.

“Oh, Harrington,” Munson laughed—no, practically crooned, his eyes wide and bright as he reached up to touch the bruising. “Who did this to you?” he asked, his tone downright giddy.

READ THE COMPLETED FIC ON AO3

[sungminxxx]

★ Never Tickle a Painter ★

masterlist!

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Summary: Hyunjin had spent a good amount of time doing a portrait of a flower vase. He had been busy for hours, but Jisung was getting bored and needed something to do. Jisung decides to annoy Hyunjin by trying to tickle him, making Hyunjin mess up his painting. Yes, this was an easy fix for an artist such as himself, but he needed to teach Jisung a lesson about not messing with him while he’s painting. 

Positions: lee!jisung & ler!hyunjin

Warnings: Tickle fic

Requested by: anon request

A/N: You guys already know how much I adore lee jisung. Thank you to whoever sent me this request, I had a lot of fun making this. I really hope you all enjoy this. Once again, please stay tuned for more! I am doing my best to work on fics daily! Thanks so much - bribri <3

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It was a long, boring day at the dorm. Most of the boys had gone out to eat. All besides Jisung and Hyunjin. Unlike the others, the two had already eaten together about an hour before the other members had left. Now that the boys have been gone for a while, Jisung was getting tired of being on his phone. He wanted to interact with someone. Unfortunately for Hyunjin, he was the only one home with him. His fate was set once Jisung got up and walked to the living room, then out the patio door, where Hyunjin sat on a chair in front of a canvas. In front of the canvas lay a beautiful purple vase with pearly white roses shining in the sun on the wooden table. Hyunjin spent all morning painting on this vase, though he took a break to eat with Jisung. The bored quokka watched his member paint for what seemed like a while. He was in awe. How did Hyunjin paint so beautifully? 

After a while of watching, unnoticed by Hyunjin, Han walked up behind him. “Hi Jinnie hyung!!” he said with full happiness in his voice. The sudden voice behind him made the artist jump. “Ah-! Hi…. you scared me.” he said. His voice shaked slightly as he turned to the younger one, who was smiling behind him. “Did you need something, Hannie?” he asked. He watched the younger boy move next to him, sitting down. “No, I actually just wanted to hang out with you!” said the black haired boy. This made the artist sigh. “Well, Jisung I am kind of busy as of now. How about we hangout later?” Hyunjin asked, going back to painting in the vase on his canvas. Han sat there for a moment. “No! I want to hang out now! I’m bored, hyung.” he said, poking his hyung’s sides twice, making the poor boy flinch. “aAHahAHAh JISUNG-” the long haired boy laughed. Jisung stopped. He immediately felt bad. Hyunjin sat for a moment, giggling to himself before looking at the painting. He pouted. “Han Jisung!! Look what you’ve done now. You messed up my painting.” The flinch was so powerful that it had created a line through the center of the base. Now of course, this was an easy fix for Hyunjin, but he was still upset. Jisung continued to feel bad. “Hyung I’m sorry- I just wanted to hangout…” 

Hyunjin sighed and looked at his painting, then back at the younger one. Now of course, he knew Jisung was sorry.. However, he thought for a moment. He needed to teach him a lesson, but how? He continued to think, staying silent for these moments, which made Jisung feel even worse. “Hyung?” said the now worried boy. Jisung’s voice echoed in Hyunjin’s mind. Then, it hit him. He came back to earth, as some would say. He looked at Jisung straight into his eyes. “Run” he says. The minute these words bounce off of his lips, Jisung runs out into their backyard and hides behind a tree. Of course it is not the bestest hiding spot. In fact, he asks himself why he did not just run into the house and book it down the hallway into one of the many open rooms. His heart races, wondering what Hyunjin is gonna do. As he is lost in his thoughts, Hyunjin smirks to himself and ever so peacefully walks toward the tree Jisung had hid behind. The ‘hidden’ boy looks to the left side of the tree, checking for Hyunjin. He doesn’t see him, so he looks back and takes a breath, then looks to his right. There he was. Hyunjin stood quite literally right next to the man, with a cheeky smile on his face. With the sudden jumpscare, Jisung fell to the ground. “AH- Hyung- Hyung HI-” he screamed out as he fell. His mind began racing once more, but any move to get away was too late. The blonde boy had jumped onto Jisung and began attacking his sides. He alternates between his sides, hips, and his neck. This makes Jisung laugh hysterically. “HYAAHAHAHAHAHAHA HYUHUNG NO!!!” he yells out. Han kicks his legs rather quickly and tries to roll away. Laying on the grass, didn’t exactly help him out. The grass had been tickling the back of his neck the moment he had landed on it. “hEHAHAHEHE HYUNG PLEHEHEHEASE! Im saahAhahahahARRY!!” he continued. Poor Hannie, he felt so helplessly ticklish, little did he know, it was about to get much much worse. Hyunjin continued alternating spots, occasionally blowing tiny raspberries on Jisung’s well exposed neck. “Awww what's wrong Jisung?~” the blonde teased. Jisung had already been desperately trying to get away. This was not unnoticed by Hyunjin. “Why are you trying to get away? I thought you WANTED to hangout, Hannie?~” he continued to tease. The teases made Han blush. “StAHOP TEHEHEASING!!” the ticklish quokka giggled out. Again, Hyunjin smiled. “Now why would I do that? You ruined my painting, remember? You deserve this!” he stated. The long haired blondie began kneading at Jisung’s hips with one hand, while circling the rim of his bellybutton with his other hand. The feeling on his bellybutton was already enough to make Jisung scream, since that was in fact his worst spot, but the added kneading to his hips only made the ticklish sensation ten times worse. Screaming, Jisung is now thrashing around to try and get away. “NAHAHAHA HYUHUNG PLEASE!!!” The poor helpless lee tries his hardest once again to escape. “Please what, Jisungie?” Hyunjin teased. “DoHOOHONT!!” Han yelled. 

“Don’t what?” the artist teased once again. “TiHICKLE MY BEHEHELLYBUHUTTON- WAIT NOHOHOHO!!” the poor ticklish quokka yelled. “Tickle your bellybutton? Well, sure Jisung, no problem!” At that, Hyunjin paid all attention to Jisung’s cute little bellybutton. Jisung blushed bright pink, and surprisingly, so did his tummy. Hyunjin just adored this. His younger one looked so adorable giggling and squealing underneath him. He only used his pinky in Jisung’s bellybutton and it drew him crazy. Goodness, he is just so adorable, he thought. “hEHAHHAHEHEHEHE HYUHUHUNG STOHOP PLEHEHEASE!!” Jisung yelled out. He began growing weak, being more and more unable to struggle trying to get away. This only made the ticklish feeling worse for him. After a while of trying to get away, he eventually gave up and accepted his ticklish fate. The long haired artist just smilied. “Stop? Now? But I don’t want to! I wanna hang out!” he teased. Using Jisung’s “wanting to hang out” excuse as to why he would not stop tickling the poor boy felt like such an attack. A very flustering one. “HYUHUNG IHIM SaAaAhAHAHARRY PLEHEASE!!” he begged. 

Hyunjin began to think for a while, still tickling Han. Eventually, he did stop. Jisung layed there giggling, rubbing off all the ghost tickles. It took him a minute to look at Hyunjin since he felt so embarrassed. “T-Thank you hyung…” he said softly. His hyung came closer and hugged him. “For what? Stopping or for tickling you in the first place?” he teased once again. Jisung blushed bright pink once again. He took a deep breath and mumbled, loud enough for Hyunjin to hear, “both..” How adorable, the artist thought. He smiled and walked with Jisung back to his canvas. “Hm.. how about I paint a portrait of you next? I’m almost done with the flower vase.” the older one said. Han flashed a smile and jumped. “Yeah yeah!” he said excitedly. 

As said, once the flower vase was done, Hyunjin painted Jisung. It took a while, but it came out perfectly in the end.

[galaxycunt]

Added to this fic bc I thought of a lil scene that was too small for its own thing hehehe

You prepared the bar, leaving it to someone’s care for the first time ever. Your loyal patrons promised to make sure nothing changed, as faithful as any other crew. Plenty of folks figured you two were marrying, something that wasn’t spoken but implied. You loved him, and that was enough for you. At least for now, you didn’t like pushing luck.

It was a fantasy, rolling between the sheets every night, sea spray and sun kissing your face every morning. The crew was as loyal to him as you were, and you felt like a young sailor again. Being with Buggy felt…right.

You couldn’t admit it to yourself before, but you felt stagnant at the bar. Resigning yourself to life on land, it never felt you. Buggy had a way to persuade anyone to do anything, how easy it was for you to reconsider things in the end.

Buggy regarded you as a goddess, eyes in a daze as you kissed him each time. It made him nervous, afraid to act like himself. You always had short spurts together, a ship was tiny compared to a whole ocean apart.

You’d get agitated at each other, arguing over small things. He was a man that had a short fuse, and you discovered you did too. Buggy threw clean clothes on the floor, you laughed a little too hard at a crew member’s joke. That one got him into trouble.

”I can do what I want, Buggy.”

You’d go to bed angry, facing away from him no matter how hard he tried. Buggy figured his time was up, failing the audition. The curtain closing on the last good thing that was ever going to happen to him.

You woke up late, stumbling into the kitchen to eat, only to find Buggy. He was frustrated, muttering curses as he looked at a recipe.

”Hey baby.”

He nearly dropped his spoon, “go away! I’m busy! Go lay down!”

You did no such thing, lacing your fingers around his waist. Buggy elbowed you gently so he could work, he was making crepes. You ate a burnt one he tossed aside, smiling.

”Are you making this for us?”

”For you.”

”Can I help?”

”No. Just relax.”

”I’ve made crepes before.”

”I got it!”

You held your hands up, leaving him to his mess. He arrived to your cabin in a flourish, presenting the breakfast like it was the finest meal in the world. You kissed him as a thanks, his face as red as his nose.

”I’m sorry, you know.”

”Hey, it’s okay. I love you, Bug.”

He felt he needed to make it up to you anyway, making love to you, something he didn’t think he was capable of anymore. Before, it was always hot and fast, leaving him going mad until he could see you again. Yet here you were, and he was going to lavish you, appreciate you.

You rolled onto your stomach, admiring the man the before you. He playfully bit your asscheek before planting a kiss.

”Perfect spot for my name,” he said referring to your various pirate tattoos.

”Only if you get my name on your forehead.”

”Deal.”

”Right between those bones.”

”Uh huh.”

He was looking at you funny, so you stuck your tongue out. He didn’t flinch, didn’t throw it back, only smiling softly. Your body was on fire, cheeks burning.

“Ever thought about a future…with me?”

”I do.”

Your name sounded so lovely on his lips, “you’re the love of my life. My…my North Star, my way home.”

Buggy let out a shuddering breath, “I’m sorry if it’s too soon. But I can’t help what I feel.”

Your heart raced, “what are you saying?”

He laid his head on your stomach, too nervous to look you in the eye. You were beginning to worry, was he about to take it back?

”I want to marry you. Do it right. You said your folks are still alive.”

”My dad‘s a shipwright. He’s gonna say no because of the paint job.”

Buggy laughed, “so how do I win them over?”

”Don’t be a pirate.”

They liked your first spouse well enough, even if they were a pirate. After their death, your folks figured only pain was in your future if you continued.

”Well, I’m marrying you anyway.”

”I didn’t say yes.”

He hand waved it away, “haven’t seen the ring.”

”You didn’t even ask.”

Buggy rolled his eyes, “if you think you’re getting out of a flashy engagement you’re an idiot. I don’t marry idiots.”

You both burst into laughter, Buggy apologizing between kisses.

It was a couple of weeks before it was brought up again. The crew landed on an island with hidden treasure. The circus tent set up for a party, and you stared in his mirror as you got ready. It was a little funny that he had a longer morning routine than you, the matinee show, he called it.

You dipped a brush into some greasepaint, thinking it would fun to paint your own clown face. You painted red hearts on your eyes, with a blue smile. Giggling, you posed in the mirror. Buggy would get a kick out of it.

The ship was empty, so you figured everyone was at the tent already. You could see the lit up tent from the shore. As a kid you loved the circus, watching the graceful acrobats in the airs. Clowns always made you laugh.

Inside, the tent was empty. A single spotlight focused on the center ring. You felt in your gut what was about to happen.

“Buggy? Guys?”

From the darkness your lover approached you. Hands flexing nervously at his side, he smiled brightly.

“Got a special performance today, just for you.”

Suddenly you were lifted up by an acrobat, floating next to you was Buggy reaching out for your hand. Before you could grab it, you swung down. Your laughter bubbled up as this happened a few times, feeling gloved hands guide your hands and feet to the swing as you were let go.

Suddenly Buggy appeared causing you both to fall into the net below. Adrenaline rushed to your head as he kissed you, lips turning purple.

He helped you climb out of the net, falling to one knee.

”Marriage, like a circus, got its ups and downs. It’s true. But it’s all about keeping that passionate flame burning!”

On cue, the fire eaters spat out flames above your head. As you looked up, Buggy pulled out a clamshell. Inside the ring sparkled brilliantly, a show off like your husband.

“You’re the only person I want to share top billing with. The light of my life, my one true love. All dreams, my every breath, I want to share it with you.”

He shook, fingers slipping as he held the ring up.

”Will you marry me?”

You wiped your eyes, “yes. Making me cry in clown makeup, you jerk.”

He only laughed, kissing your face. You were sure the smile on his face froze permanently as soon as you slipped on the ring. He wore that smile all night as the crew celebrated.

Your parents were going to be so pissed.

[kaisitzybitzyworld]

Orphic

[ I ]

Chapter one :

"I will be your friend"

Genre: yandere!jk×highschooler oc (legal)

Warnings ⚠️ none!

Summary: (adj.) mysterious and entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding.

For all the twisted and dark desires he buried so deep in his heart, how could she ignite such spark with just one gaze?

Did that affect him and shake him to his very core? Yes. And was he eager to find out what he wanted to do with that spark? Oh boy!

Where jungkook with his band mates gets invited to be the guest for the annual function in the most approved school of the country and finds himself rather entranced by the school's beautiful head girl.

_______________________________________________________

Fests and events do interests a lot of people. But the labor and hard work put behind it to make it perfect has always been very exhausting. I've seen the previous head girls and management run from one wing to the other for it's preparation. As tiring as the composing might be, the day of the main fest always makes it worth it. The laughter and cheers and the praises, oh the praises. Doesn't everyone work hard for that one thing? Praises.

"I've made a list of events we should keep" I looked to my side to see Jane holding a long list.

"Yes thank you"

I walk out the room, reading the list.

'Music... painting.. dance'

"Tia.. Willows?"

I turn around to see the new girl standing near the entrance of the computer lab.

"Oh Ifra, I completely forgot I had to meet you up. I am so sorry you know this fest work has really been messing with my brain I am so sorry"

Ifra's smile made me stop mid rant. I couldn't resist letting a small smile adorn my face too.

"It's fine, well if you're free now..?" She asked as she raised an eyebrow at me.

"Yes no worries I can show you around while getting my work done too" I said as I ushered her to follow me.

"Where are you from Ifra?"

"Saudi"

"Oh? Why did you move here then?" I turned my head towards her.

"Well my parents divorced and my father got a job here" she turned to look at me too.

I noticed she has beautiful amber eyes. With the sun rays falling on her face, her eyes looked almost golden. Her dark brown hair was loose and in beautiful waves. She is really beautiful.

"What? Is there something on my face?" She asked as she started wipe her face.

"Oh no, nothing. You're just really pretty" I said with a wide smile.

"Oh.. that is very unexpected. Thank you" she said while looking away from me.

"Oh I'm sorry if that was awkward"

"No it was just new. I thought as the head girl and someone as gorgeous as you would be very stuck up"

I laughed at that. I looked at her and said "Oh don't stereotype me"

" No I'm sorry" even she couldn't resist the little laugh that escaped her.

"Well this is the library, do you mind coming inside with me? I need some magazines" I told her as we approached the big glass gates of the library.

"Nope, absolutely not"

"Thank you, c'mon in" I said pushing the big doors.

As we walked down the aisle between the book shelves on both sides, we could hear some students in one of the narrow aisle speaking about someone and giggling. Even though I did not want to heed them my attention, one of them mentioned something about the school fest which caught my notice.

"Oh my god dis you hear the guests are going to be that famous boy band? Bts." One of them said giggling.

"You're lying, tell me you're fucking lying"

"WHAT?" Other one screeched.

"Lydia, shut up. No one should know about this" the first one said.

How the fuck did they know about this. This was supposed to be a big surprise.

"You're expression tells me it's true" Ifra joked from behind me.

I looked her and let out a sigh, "IT is infact true"

"What?! Really? Tell me you're bluffing" Ifra exclaimed as her eyes bulged out.

"No it's true. It was supposed to be a surprise from the school to the students. Well you see there are so many schools coming and bringing a big reputed band like them will increase our popularity and make this school big" I explained as I turned to walk down the aisle towards my destination again.

"Oh, well then, school is basically doing this for their own benefit" she said.

"Can you really blame the school, Ifra? Everyone thinks about themselves first" I turned for a second to give her a wink. With small smile and a nod she followed.

After collecting the previous year school magazines, we turned to leave the library.

"Why do you need them?" Ifra asked peeping over my shoulder to look at the magazines.

"I need inspirations for the events" I replied while flipping through the pages.

She hummed but did not comment. I am glad she didn't. The pressure of the events are already eating up my consciousness. The teachers have already agreed on the list of events. But they aren't helping me with how to arrange the events. The school has already arranged people for decorating the hall and the ground for the events which is a relief.

Beside me, Ifra seems to be lost in her own world as she keeps her eyes casted down, walking mindlessly.

"Are you bored? Do you not want to see the school?" I had to ask

"To be honest, I was already roaming around before you came so it's kind of uneventful" she said with a shrug.

"I get it, well where do you want to go then?"

"Can we go to the cafeteria? I am really hungry"

"Oh god same"

With small laughs exchanged, I guided her to the canteen.

We sat down at the farthest corner with two cups of coffee and sandwiches.

I looked up to see Ifra looking her her sandwich with furrowed brows.

"What is it?"

"I don't think this will be enough to fill my appetite" I can't help but laugh at her response.

"Oh my god, you know you can get whatever you want"

With that, she gave me a wide smile and started eating her sandwich.

I brought out my phone to see if there were any notifications from the student council or the teachers. As expected, there were almost thousands. Perks of being the head girl I guess.

"One hundred and fifty"

I looked up to see Ifra shaking her head with a mouth full of sandwich.

"What do you mean?"

"That's the amount of times you've sighed in the past one hour."

I put my pen down and looked at her properly and said "Had you been the head girl, you would have understood"

Did she just-

"DID you just roll your eyes at me?"

"Yes I did" she said and stuck out her tongue at me.

"WOW the audacity, Miss. Lateez"

"Oh hush"

After we were done with eating and noting down important details, we headed out to the main hall.

"So.." I turned to look the amber eyed girl as she started.

"So...?"

"When are they coming?"

"When are who coming?"

"Bts. Our guests, When will they arrive?"

"Oh, they will arrive in 2 days actually, why? are you excited?"

"I mean of course, I love their music"

"Right, even my friends love them. They don't know yet about them being out guests but I am sure they will be astonished and so excited"

"Yes of course, you must have a lot of friends" she said with a soft voice.

"Not really, I mean I do talk to a lot of people but I have only a few real friends." Talking about my friends always brings a smile to my face. They have helped me survive here alone in a country far away from my family. I will always be grateful to them.

"Don't you have friends here?" I asked her.

She looked at me as if I was the stupidest person on earth, or maybe I am because how could I forget she is knew in this school and of course she couldn't have made new friends in a few hours. "I am sorry I forgot, completely"

" Yes I figured" she said with a small scoff and a shake of her head. "Well it does take a lot of time for me to make friends. Call me an introvert but I have had one real friend in my entire life. She moved away when we were 12 and since then, I have never found someone I could trust and be comfortable with" she explained with a soft voice. But I could see the pain of bring alone in her eyes.

"Why?" The question left my lips before I could control myself.

"I've had friends after her, but they all seem to only made me their friend to look superior, some would talk bad about me behind my back, anyways doesn't matter now. I left that place anyways" she said will a sad smile and resumed walking.

I jogged to catch up with her. A few minutes of silence fell between us.

As we reached the main hall door I looked back at her with a smile

"I will be your friend"

She looked up at me and I could she her trying to resist the curve tugging at her lips. At the end she let out a big smile

"Thank you, Tia"

——————————————————————————————

A/N: ahhhhh here is the first chapter of orphic. It's just a background on the type of person Tia is and this is how her friendship with Ifra starts. I know I know it's a little boring right now. I swear it will be way more interesting from the 3rd chapter🤭. Mind you Ifra is a very important character here. And their friendship is very very important. Anyways stay tuned. And I am so sorry it took this long to update. I will update more frequently, promise. The next chapter will have a jjk pov. Hehehhe. Please hit the heart button for the love of jungkookie. Comment too. Bye bye. Love you<3

[bagopucks]

M. Marner - Light My Love

✄————————————

Mitch Marner x Fem!reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning(s): none!

It felt like such a Mitch song, and I wanted to do something real tiny before going on to new requests!

—————————————

Can you light my love?

Flames glowing bright as the sun

Deeper than oceans you run

Watch as our world has begun

I was an art major, but my art never had feeling behind it. It was my passion, but somewhere along the line, I forgot passion in the midst of work. In the midst of going through the motions. I lost my motive and love for the things I made. My works had beauty, but they had no fire. They had no feeling.

Until I met Mitch.

My classmates often said the things they loved were their muses. Pets, music, books and movies, family or friends. Lovers.

Mitch was my friend, but he was too vast. Looking at him was overwhelming. Mitch was his own work of art. Made up of the elements. The ocean in his eyes and the earth in his hair. The wind that followed his stride on skates, and the fire that represented itself in the heat radiating off his skin any time of day.

He was vast, made up of cuts from all types of fabrics, his mind ran deeper than one could possibly imagine. His pain, shortcomings, and strife made him the man he was. Likewise, his accomplishments, past, and those who loved him. Every moment in his life shaped him. Mitch was like a ten page essay. Just when you got the motivation to start, you’d look at the ten empty pages and feel too overwhelmed to continue.

That’s how it felt when I pulled out a blank canvas and decided to use Mitch as my muse. It was blank, and I didn’t know where to begin. Or how to paint him. There was too much of him to cover, and I felt I’d never have enough paint to do it all.

When I met Mitch, I wanted to know him completely. From head to toe. From mind to heart. He became my next project.

Your mind is a stream of colors

Extending beyond our sky

A land of infinite wonders

A billion lightyears from here now

The days spent in cafe’s, dinky diners, and the living area of my apartment, were ones I looked forward to. I found myself asking Mitch about himself nonstop, and most questions he asked about me were pushed aside with quick or rushed answers.

I found that he was such a creative and lighthearted person. Full of childish wonder and boyish charm. He’d play nonstop if the world let him. Which I assumed was why he chose hockey as his career. Mitch loved touring me around Toronto, showing me things to take pictures of and explaining what he found beauty in and why.

In the late evenings, we found ourselves caught up in conversations of wild theories and subjective beliefs. If he believed in aliens. Which planets he wanted to visit. Who he thought built the pyramids and which conspiracy theories he believed or laughed at. Mitch’s mind worked a mile a minute.

He liked to tell me of all of his ideas for new workout routines, little senseless inventions he thought would be beneficial to life, and of all the things he wanted to try and experience.

Whoa, light my love

Whoa, light my love

My art adopted a brighter complexion each time I spent a new day with Mitch.

There was something about him and the way he saw the world, that was awfully refreshing.

I have seen pictures of time

The frames still in motion I find

A grand revolution outlined

Hate bound by fear will unwind

Through time I fell in love with Mitch and his beautiful mind. My pictures shifted from tourist spots and landscapes, to those of him that I snuck on nights out and nights in.

I could scroll through the photos and recall memories of each moment.

A photo of him mid laugh, hands held over the sink covered in white powder while there was some on his face and in his hair. The rest of the mess on the counter. I had been trying to help him learn to cook, and we ended up in a flower fight.

I had another photo of him. An ‘aerial’ view, where his head had been in my lap, a blanket pulled over his body but his bare shoulders peeked out just enough to know he was shirtless. I took that one after Mitch had showed up on my apartment doorstep, sore and miserable after a hard game. We became so comfortable with one another that he didn’t bat an eye when I invited him into my room to watch a movie and get a back rub.

My favorite photo of Mitch, was the one that finally allowed me to see him completely and clearly as my muse. The one that helped me bundle all of Mitch in his entirety, into one photo. Into one work of art.

A still of him in my art studio, the sun illuminating his figure from the skylights above. He was sat on the linen cloth I had spread across the stained wood floors, a canvas laid out that I told him he could use while I worked. The canvas had a brown blob on it with big orange eyes, and a white bandanna. The only reason I knew what it was is because Mitch never shut up about his dog. Little old Zeus, who I had the luxury of meeting on multiple occasions when we went for walks.

I took the picture when I turned to check on him, his face all scrunched up and focused. I captured the photo just after he’d gone to itch his cheek, smearing the brown he used for Zeus across his cheekbone. He looked so relaxed, and yet so happy at the same time. Content to do nothing with me but still do something in the same room.

I decided to use Mitch as a figurative muse first. So I painted him as things he reminded me of. When he asked about what I was doing for the art final, I never told him, and he only got fussy when I wouldn’t let him in my studio to see either. I invited him to the college’s gallery presentation of the art finals when the night came. I told him I was wearing baby blue, and he was welcome to do the same.

I told my teacher, that my plan was to reveal the final piece of my project at the viewing. That my final piece would be my ‘inspiration.’

The only reason she gave me an exception was because she said she saw a real improvement and emotion in my art. That in all the four years she taught me, she was incredibly proud and excited to see what had brought back my passion and desire to continue to create.

We were both hopeful that the moment, when it came, would go well.

Your mind is a stream of colors

Extending beyond our sky

A land of infinite wonders

A billion lightyears from here now

“Mitch!” I whisper-shouted over mumbling parents and guardians, lovers and friends. The showing was hosted in the library, big enough to house all of the art, and the right setting to let people know it wasn’t supposed to be loud. Those that came in mostly spent time looking at the art of who they came for.

I was stood somewhere around the middle of the room, my various pieces set up on easels I brought from my apartment, and one toward the end of my display still covered by a sheet.

Mitch quickly walked down the few steps by the door, swift to slip though the crowd to meet me by my displays. He wrapped his arms around my hips, and my own flew over his shoulders.

Our blues didn’t entirely match, but it was closer than I expected them to be. I wore a baby blue dress with a flowing skirt that stopped just above the knees, the sleeves made of lace that hugged my wrists and a bodice that hugged my torso and hips.

“Hey, so sorry I’m a little late.” I shook my head as I pulled away. I took a moment to examine Mitch’s outfit. Black slacks and a baby blue polo. I straightened his collar. He smiled bashfully.

“Don’t worry about it, Mitchell.” I teased quietly, barely able to contain my excitement. He could tell, and it made him all the more smiley than before.

“So? Can I finally see this stuff?”

“Goodness, Mitch.. I’ve been waiting so long.” My heart rate picked up. In this moment, I was more worried about him not liking my art, than the possibility of failing my last final. I reached for his hands, took them in my own, and stepped a few paces back. I led him toward the first canvas, his eyes already looking over my shoulder at the art before I could inform him of what it was.

“That was from our first hike.” His pearly smile made me giggle as he spoke. I let go of his hands and turned to look at the first painting. I considered a hike something to be done in mountains and wooded areas, but Mitch and I had walked for a while down the coastline that day. He tried to prove to me that a ‘hike’ didn’t have to be an incline.

“How’d you do that?” He reached out to run his fingers across the grooves and divots of dried oil paint. I had never painted with textures before, but I felt it was one of the many elements I needed to properly represent Mitch and all of his layers.

My eyes examined him, as he examined my art. That same wonder I used to see when he discussed his own passions, now presented itself in his eyes as he took in my creation. I hadn’t realized I became one of his new passions over time.

I reached for Mitch’s hand again, taking it and guiding him to the next piece.

“This one might be a little harder to guess-“

“You took pictures of this one when I was over at your place.” I was astounded by his attention to detail. “It had just finished raining outside. You said you liked the yellow in the clouds.”

We made eye contact. I couldn’t have been smiling any wider, and Mitch looked oddly proud of himself for remembering such a random detail.

“What’s the last one?” He was the first to break our eye contact, nodding behind me to the canvas covered by cloth. The same linen from my studio floor.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna get a snack or drink first?” I tried, my hand subconsciously squeezing Mitch’s.

“Come on. I’ve been waiting for like- a month to see all this.” He didn’t have to beg or ask much. I gave in quite easily. I took a step back, my breath caught in my lungs as I reached with my free hand to hoist the cloth up over the canvas.

“Okay.. but- I did my best. It’s not perfect.”

My third and final oil painting. Of Mitch in the middle of my studio floor. I used the photo I took of him, but in the background I added other elements. His jersey draped over the empty easel, and a pair of paint stained skates hanging from my wood shelves. I included the pair of his favorite slippers, a can or two of Red Bull, and a rolled up yoga mat. My favorite addition though, was the tiny details of our photos together, painted so they looked to be tapped up on the wall in the background.

I clenched my jaw while Mitch looked, his brow furrowing at first. Then his head tilted. I worried he wouldn’t like it, and his initial reaction had me pulling my hand away from his own.

Then his brow smoothed, and he stepped closer, eyes squinting to catch all the tiny details. His lips turned upward. He looked at me. I offered an uncertain smile.

“What made you do this?”

Whoa, light my love

Whoa, light my love

“You..” I shrugged. “You became my muse. I needed something to bring the feeling back into everything. My art, my life.. I didn’t really expect it to be you. But it was.” I looked back at the painting. “I caught this photo of you a little while back. I added some of your favorite things in there. Figured I didn’t need to include Zeus because you already had him in your own little painting.” I teased softly in hopes of easing my own tension. Mitch laughed softly.

He stepped up by my side, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“It’s really cool.. but you’re missing something, ya know?” His question had me raising my brow as I looked up at him. He looked down at me.

“Can’t have all my favorite things without you.” My heart skipped a beat, I giggled bashfully.

“Mitch-“

“I’m serious. Nothing else matters if you’re not there too.” He turned his body to face my own, and I found myself stumbling over my own thoughts. I was supposed to be the poetic and meaningful one. And yet I couldn’t think of a single thing.

“It’s almost perfect.” He continued, and I found the courage to meet his eyes.

I decided to test him. To be certain.

“What would make it perfect?” I was hesitant. Hot all over, trying not to crash and burn.

“If you’d be mine.”

“God Mitch..” I breathed out in relief. He looked panicked for a moment, worried he’d crossed a boundary. I eased his nerves by springing forward to connect our lips. His hands raised to his sides in a concerned motion, before he relaxed and returned the kiss, his hands found my hips with ease.

One of my hands held his face, the other on his shoulder. By the time I felt satisfied, I pulled away breathlessly. Mitch’s wide eyes stared me down, smiles slow to find both of our lips.

“You came just when I needed you.”

“I like you so much.”

“I really like you too”

I really needed to pass that final, but it was the last thing on my mind.

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[fatuismooches]

here's to yame's usual response to your reblogs in the signature lengthy ask .. greetings suzu! 🤍

now to get the quick ones out of the way — i was DYING for someone to notice the contact name in "heart rhythm" and listen i was laughing my ass off the moment i decided on the name because on the other hand i had a cute theme in mind but i was like nah, let my crackheadedness show <3 and yes! i am a violinist :)

glad i could awaken the musical bone in you hehe. i actually posted a random post about a very specific idea i had featuring violinist reader and pianist kuni but that's a whole can of worms that i'd rather save for another time because .. well, my kabuki series lmao

now for the collection of birthday hcs i posted........ oh boy, let's go:

. kabukimono is actually so fucking proud of himself. especially so since i was running along with the imagery that is him being a mess in the kitchen, not only that; but you always occupy yourself with making him what he likes, why not reciprocate the gesture? he found out it was your birthday through niwa who urged you to come over for tea and have a chat. katsuragi spent just about the whole day to early afternoon looking for kabu only to see bro cooking up in your shared home, and katsu ended up tagging along! i like to imagine that kabu finds solace or some form of acceptance when he's around humans like you for instance; a human who sees him as one of their own. kabuki felt something akin to relief wash over him as katsuragi stuck around and helped him by providing tips on making your favorites for your birthday. he felt alive, human. and that smile of sheer delight on his face was not only because he saw your smile at his simple method to celebrate, but also because he felt accomplished. he repaid you for a simple gesture you never hesitated to do for him.

. kuronushi is a man of both words and actions. when it came to how he should make you happy, he surprisingly found a little bit of difficulty in figuring it out because and i quote, “knowing you're here is enough to make me smile, 'nushi.” so what? is he supposed to simply stay by your side for the remainder of the day? that simply won't do and isn't enough of a gift for you; an individual who practically made his existence more meaningful to him. such a simple gesture like staying by your side, while something he does more often than not, simply isn't enough as stated. and so, just exactly a day before your birthday, he excused himself by leaving a note that said he's out on an inspiration walk. by the time he arrived to kannazuka island, the atmosphere was exactly what he desired; partially cloudy with an auspicious breeze and most importantly, the stage was all his as his brush began to make short work of the once empty scrolls, and as cheesy as it sounds the dim and gentle lighting of the sun emitting from the clouds above reminded him of you. which helped immensely with his inspiration. honestly, a simple portrait isn't enough to capture your radiance, but if he had to give a gift he'd make with what he has, it'll be this for now.

. kunikuzushi is an interesting case. once unnecessary now an absolute fucking must as he simply looks at you while you sleep at an ungodly time of 2 a.m. a frustrated frown slowly but surely painting his face as he juices his non-existent brain out on how exactly he should make you smile on your supposed special day. the things he does for you, all due to those mind boggling emotions you allowed his mechanical heart to influence. the first time he took you to said café; people were staring. eyes not only on him but you, how come his benevolence be with an ordinary individual? on a simple get-together no less... he finds offense in the stares that were mainly on him, why? is it so strange for him to be sighted like this? foolish mortals won't begin to understand how he chooses to spend a day he deems dear to him. now breaking from writer ayame for a bit YOU'RE SO REAL ABOUT HIM JUST SNAPPING AT PEOPLE WHO WERE STARING ;; the next time he took you to that café at the same day, you were taken aback by seeing no one other than the workers in sight.

. somehow in someway, wanderer has found himself in the company of buer, the aranara and you — while nahida is partially correct about this being his idea; he meant only you along with him and the little sprout. not with the company of talking cabbages! but alas, here he was at the small table sitting by your side as his aranara lookalike is chatting the tea party away with along with nahida who's elated to finally know more of you. he couldn't bring himself to ( or rather was unable to ) convince nahida otherwise about her idea, not when you looked both interested and excited, more than willing to go. he was quiet for the most part, only deciding to chat if he was brought into the conversation which contradicting what i said earlier, he ended up using his voice quiet a lot; from indulging you in your lighthearted remarks to indulging nahida's playful inquiries and teasing. it felt a lot more like a family gathering than a birthday celebration, but if he to admit to himself at most, he enjoyed it while it lasted.

.. shit ayame you popped off for this one lmao BUT!! what's an ask ayame sends in reply without kuni brainrot? anyways <3

i did have a wonderful birthday, thank you very much! a lot of it was made through seeing your and many others' asks which i appreciate you all an incredible lot for! 🤍

and the izumi reference? yeah your welcome for the dose of soft angst <3

— signed, ayame.

AHHH AYAME THESE KILLED ME... (LOVINGLY) AND PLEASE THE FIRST THING I DO WHEN READING MESSAGES IS LOOK AT THE CONTACT NAME 😭 i love seeing silly names as the contact it's so cute 🥰 AND YES I DID SEE THAT!! and ugh i could just imagine the rivalry... the tension (i know nothing about music but i just know it'd be good) AND I SAW THE KABU DOLL YOU DREW!! THAT WAS SO ADORABLE!! 😭💗💗 so you can draw, write, and play the violin... *cutely steals your skills*

AHHH Kabukimono always making a mess of the kitchen but it gets ten times worse on your birthday because he's trying so hard 🥺 i imagine it's because not only is he cooking your favorite meal, but he's also cooking and preparing stuff to cook even more stuff for you later in the day. Look he is the kind of person to pull out all the stops for his darling. Kabuki is the kind of guy who probably slipped a few times in the kitchen because of how he's running all over the place but has gotten right back up like it's nothing. 😭 Once Katsuragi has seen the kind of madness he pulls he really doesn't know what to do other than sit the puppet down and lecture him on general safety and kitchen precautions. Kabuki feels a bit bad after that for making his friend worry. 😭 (And yes definitely. 🥺 Kabukimono definitely feels really accepted and at peace in the company of other kind humans. It's little things like this that make him feel like he truly belongs.)

UGH IM NGL YOU'RE THE ONE WHO MADE ME LOVE-LOVE KURONUSHI. Like, i've always loved him because he's our beloved Kuni right? But i wasn't as attached to him since there's like, no lore or content for him, but YOU. you're making me love him. THE PAINTING? THE BRUSH AND SCROLLS? THE SCENERY? i love to think about laying on his lap or something while he draws or writes :(

DEJKFEBWKF SCARA AGONIZING OVER HOW TO MAKE YOU HAPPY. 😭 oh he so would. Because what do you mean he has to make you smile and laugh on your birthday? Those are just... foolish human customs. (That's what he says, in reality, Kuni is pacing back and forth wondering how best to please you. Sure, he may not care much for birthdays, but this is you. His love.) AHAHA let's be real, he snaps at anyone who dares to look at you, whether it's a bad way, a good way, a neutral way, he doesn't care. Look too long at his darling and you will have a snappy Balladeer on your ass. He does not play around and will take offense to anything when it comes to you. 😭💗

DONT TO THIS TO ME... THE FAMILY GATHERING. THAT'S ALL I WANT. I want to bond with Nahida and help Wanderer heal with her :( he deserves it, and she deserves loving people to talk to as well :( He may not talk much during the conversation. He may click his tongue and roll his eyes when an Aranara or two crawl into his lap or steal his hat to lay on. But he truly loves you two!! He's so happy to see his darling and his auntie bond!! (He's definitely going to sip on the specially prepared bitter tea though.)

[jayfortheday]

Your Vance Hopper one shots are single-handedly fueling my obsession with that movie, so I thought I’d request a one shot (or head canons, you pick) where he’s been dating the reader for a while and he finds out that they are really into crystals and witchy stuff.

If you don’t get around to it, that’s totally cool though :)

Ghosts And Junk (Vance Hopper)

Pairing: Vance Hopper x GN!Reader (romantic)

Word count: 591

Description: After six months of dating, Vance discovers one of Y/N's obsessions, witchcraft

Tags: fluffy

~~~~~~~~~~~

Vance sat in your living room, watching you wander around, looking for something. 

“Can I help? Whatcha lookin’ for?” He asked, his eyes following your movements. 

“I mean, you can try,” you sighed. “It’s a little rock, it’s kinda like a clear orangish color, I think?” You lifted the piles of magazines on the coffee table and looked under the cabinets by the TV. 

“Is it this?” Vance asked, holding up a small stone. 

“Yes!” You cried out, running over to him. “Where did you find it?”

“It was between the couch cushions, idiot,” he laughed, placing the crystal in your hand. “What is it anyway?”

“It’s a piece of citrine, I just got it like a week ago,” you explained, dusting off the stone. “My sister was probably playing with it, it’s not supposed to leave my room. I’m gonna put it back.”

You started to walk towards your room and you heard Vance follow you. You pushed open the door and walked over to a table on the other side of the room. 

“Woah,” Vance whispered as he looked around your room. He had never been in there before, you two usually spent time outside or at his house. The room was painted a standard white, but the walls were covered with ornate tapestries and plants were on almost every surface. On the table you stood in front of were more of the crystals. The table itself was draped in a piece of colorful fabric and topped with multiple rocks and small trinkets. 

“What’s all this stuff for?” Vance asked, stepping forward to examine your space more. “You secretly a witch or something?” He smiled at his own joke. You shrugged your shoulders.

“That’s one way to put it,” you said, still attending to organizing your crystals. Vance’s eyes narrowed. “Huh?” He didn’t quite understand what you were saying. 

“It’s a little hobby of mine,” you explained. “Crystals, and plants, all just parts of the Earth and it’s energy I really enjoy.” Vance still wasn’t quite getting it. 

“Each of these crystals does it’s own things. Like this citrine I got, it holds the energy of the sun and it’s supposed to bring you happiness.” Vance picked up the piece and examined it. 

“If you say so,” he said nonchalantly. He put it back down in his best approximation of the place he got it from. 

“Aren’t witches supposed to be about, like, ghosts and junk?” He asked, leaning back and sitting on your bed. You giggled a little. 

“That’s not really my forte, but I suppose they could be,” you said, flattening out the cloth over your table and going over to sit next to Vance. “If it’s that weird to you, just think of it like I really like colorful rocks and plants.”

“It’s not weird, really. Just never heard of it before,” Vance said, running his fingers through his hair. “You gonna curse me if we ever break up?” He laughed, leaning back on the bed. “Not that I’m planning on it.”

“Yeah, totally, the only reason I’m seeing you is to have an excuse to curse you,” you joked back, laughing. 

“I can’t say it’s not working though,” you said, standing up and working back over to your table. Vance hummed curiously. You picked up a pink rock and held it up for him to see.

“I got this piece of rose quartz about a week before we met.”

“What’s that one do?” He asked, cocking his head to look at it. 

“It promotes love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed! I haven't really messed around with crystals, so I had to do some research into meanings and stuff, so sorry if any are incorrect, hope it doesn't ruin the story too much

I also watched the movie again today and it is still amazing every time. I gotta say, the scene in Gwen's dream where Vance is in the cop car and just looking around, he looks so pretty, he got no right to be that beautiful

[moonshine999]

Painting Together

Day : 5

Ship : Rhaenicent (Rhaenyra Targaryen x Alicent Hightower)

AU : Old money

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Every flower swayed with the breeze and the sun rose to its highest peak, bathing every leaf, tree and speck of the garden in gold. A beautiful sight and amidst it was her wife..just as beautiful..rubbing sunscreen on herself as if she owns an entire factory of it.

"Darling, there really isn't much need to smother that much sunscreen on yourself."

"You want my skin to burn off, Nyra?!

She huffed a laugh and spread a blanket on the grass. With a bow and some over the top courtesy, Nyra said "All for you, dear."

"All for us, you mean."

.

"All for us, I mean."

Alicent sat down and immediately started rummaging through her bag. What a sight she was. The co-head of the richest company in the world sat in front of her, frantically searching her,seemingly, bottomless bag while a poor sun screen bottle was tossed aside, drained empty.

Her eyes widened when she found what she was looking for and excitedly fumbled down two small canvases, a couple of brushes and a paint set.

Fear, dread and embarasment dropped her heart.

"Just give it a try no! Please it'll be fun and relaxing-"

"Alicent..we are not painting."

"Rhaenyra..we are painting.

"Us painting has always ended with you turning out Da Vinci and me turning out unicorn vomit, we are NOT-"

"I- fair enough. But...pleaseee-"

"Relaxing is for the people who know what they are doing, Ali."

"You're just making a fuss now. Criston likes to paint with me, he can't paint for shit but he still joins me and has a good time no?"

"Criston would rather not directly ask for a raise, it's different."

Shit. Alicent Hightower had one power that could bring the toughest to their knees. And it wasn't just her stubborn attitude but those damn eyes.

Nyra could almost see the screws turning inside her brain when she starts to slightly jut out her bottom lip and widen her big brown eyes and bat her eyelashes just so perfectly that-

"Fine. I guess I can paint with you."

"Wonderful."

To call the next few moments a struggle for Nyra would be the understatement of the year. How the hell was she supposed to know anything? How the hell was she going to suffice whatever the blobs on the canvas are into something at all? How the hell was she so sure of what she was painting?

After about a century of torture passing with unsure glances, picking up random colours to somehow salvage whatever was there and gazing upon her wife so peacefully painting while humming something, she put down the brush and turned the canvas away from Alicent.

"If I add a single stroke more, I might just cringe out of my existence..are you done yet?"

"Mhm..and there! How is it?"

How is it? How is it? Mind-blowing was what it was..

The trees of the garden looked as though they had simply jumped on to the canvas somehow the glow of the sun was captured so perfectly. It looked more a photograph than a painting. It was spectacular, gorgeous, fantastic, out of this world, beautiful-

"Oh yeah..it's nice."

Dumbass.

"Okay okay show me yours!"

Fuck.

With averting all eye contact with her wife and turning the paint as slow as possible , Nyra quietly muttered a prayer that this won't make her a laughing stock for her own wife.

As soon as she realised the entire mess of the canvas was fully turned, a moment of silence and then a giggle.

"Is that supposed to be me?" She asked, slightly sarcastic but with a wide smile on her face.

Nyra looked at the painting and then her wife. The mess of colours with the red of her hair bleeding into the green background, the eyes at completely different positions and an overly toothy smile did not resemble her muse at all

All she mustered was a shameful nod.

The only thought running through her head while painting that was to paint the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. As was instinct.

"Well..it's not bad." She said in that one tone that implied it was horrendous.

"We are never speaking about this in front of anyone."

"But it's adorable!"

"I practically made you worse than the wicked witch of the west, what do you mean 'adorable'?!"

"It's the thought that counts, no?"

Both of them decided to paint whatever attracted them the most. Alicent painted the glowing trees and Rhaenyra painted .. well ..her wife.

"Oh yeah no..Cole is fine."

"Whatever. We don't speak a word about this to anyone..I have a reputation."

"Okay fine....what about Criston though?"

[scorchedhearth]

oh for the ask game: jk + 20 or 22 OR!! kylealex + 11 <3

i am glad to finally be able to exorcize this particular demon that's been rattling inside my head for a week. thank u for the prompt <3

things you said

11. things you said when you were drunk

“Hey,” Kyle slurred as he fell down the wall in a heap of limbs. “We weren’t expecting you tonight.” He looked up to Alex who laughed, a quick, bright fragment of laughter that rang through the air.

“We. There’s only you Kyle, you don’t need to play me like that.” She grinned and sat next to him, elegant in all the ways he wasn’t, her elbows resting on her bent knees, hands dangling in front of her. Her smile faded as she looked to the horizon, gaze stuck in the stars. “Beautiful sky, don’t you think?”

Kyle knew that if he looked ahead, he would catch the dark midnight sky of a Californian beach, far away from the cities so that the entire sky would shine with stars and constellations, with licks of white and pale blue like strokes of paint. He would see the moon, half black and pinned up there, he would see the occasional cloud passing through, maybe catch a few satellites blinking at him from up there.

He couldn’t, because Alex was sitting right beside him, her long hair brushing over her bare shoulder and her eyes so green, so bright.

“Yeah…” He mumbled, too busy studying her face, the line of her nose and the edge of her jaw, committing them to memories. “Beautiful.”

“You’re not even looking.” And she wasn’t looking at him either, eyes still brushing over the picture in front of them, but she knew. She knew and she was grinning. “Lovestruck fool.” She said then, and bit her lips as her cheeks darkened.

“Maybe. But I’m yours.” As he spoke, he felt something vicious twist inside his chest, hot white pain seizing his heart and squeezing until he couldn’t breathe anymore. A sob fell from his lips, a second, and he closed his eyes, turned away from her as tears spilled down his cheek. He tightened his fingers around the neck of the Whiskey and downed several more sips from the bottle, until he could breathe again.

“That’s new,” Alex spoke from his side, so soft he almost missed it, and an ugly laugh escaped his grasp, sad and heavy.

“Right.” He blinked his eyes open, found Alex watching him with a concerned expression. He wasn’t sure when he started drinking, but the sun was still out, hot and unbearable on his neck. Everything felt fuzzy now, far away, and yet he still hurt. He just wanted to forget about it.

“Right.” She echoed, the corner of her mouth twisted in an unhappy frown. “You know I will leave.” He knew, and still, he sat up at her words, the rush of blood making the earth shiver beneath his legs.

“Don’t.” He begged. “Please. Stay. I love you. Please, Alex, I can’t do this without you.” He tried to reach for her, missed when his hand aimed several inches too far, cursed the wave of sickness that the alcohol brought along.

“Oh, Kyle…” Her voice sounded muffled, nothing like the bright and assured tone she always carried. “You can.”

“I don’t wanna.” He felt his stomach lurch at the idea of waking up without her. “I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you enough. I’m sorry for- for everything, Alex, please.”

He reached out, and a scream ripped his throat when his hand collided with the warm construct, nothing like the way her skin felt under his hand, hot and solid. He couldn’t focus on her image, the green light fading to a blurry figure as he felt his brain fogging up, the night of drinking catching up with him.

He let his hand fall, the Green Lantern ring still shining on his finger as the ghostly Alex stood up and walked away, a mess of shapes that slipped through his grasp.

“Please, don’t leave me.” He sobbed and pulled his head between his arms, refusing to watch her fade away. “Please...”

[justabooknerdposts]

would love to see the beginning of the Rachel/Annabeth friendship in TLO. Annabeth helping her decorate the cave

Rachel POV:

“Want a hand?”

Rachel jumped when a voice spoke at the mouth of the cave.  Her surprise didn’t change when she realized it was Annabeth standing there.  The other girl’s expression was a little sheepish, her shoulders slightly hunched. 

Rachel wasn’t sure she’d heard Annabeth right.  Her own voice came out sounding a bit disbelieving when she said, “You want to help me?”

Annabeth shrugged.  “I know you’re getting set up in here and thought maybe you could use some help.”

Rachel raised her eyebrows.  “From you?”

Annabeth winced.  “Never mind.  It’s fine.  I’ll go.” 

“No,” Rachel said as Annabeth turned to the door.  “You don’t have to.”  When Annabeth looked back at her, Rachel added, “You can stay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  It’s fine.”  Rachel waved a hand at the hastily assembled furniture sitting around the cave that Apollo had designated as “supremely worthy of my Oracle.”  She had plans to paint the cave walls, but at the moment everything was dark, dingy, and a bit of a mess.  “I could actually use some help getting this all together.”

To Rachel’s surprise, the two of them worked together well.  They had different design aesthetics—Rachel’s had more of the chaos of Jackson Pollock, while Annabeth’s favored the clean lines and natural elements of Frank Lloyd Wright.  But between the two of them, they managed to create a nice vibe in the design of the cave.

After about half an hour, as Rachel was adjusting an armchair, trying to find a good angle with the coffee table, Annabeth blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

Rachel raised her head.  “What?”

“I’m sorry.”  Annabeth’s ears were flaming red.  “I was a complete jerk to you.”

Rachel studied her for a moment, then said, “Yeah, you kind of were.”

Annabeth looked down, lips pursed, but she didn’t say anything.

Then Rachel added, “But I get it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”  Rachel shrugged.  “I swooped in out of nowhere and tried to steal your guy.  Or, at least, that’s probably what it looked like, right?”

Annabeth crossed her arms, studying Rachel for a moment.  Then she said, “I guess.  I mean, that’s probably what it looked like to you.  About how I was looking at the situation.  But…” she morosely kicked a loose stone.  It skittered across the cave floor.  “It wasn’t just because I had a crush on Percy.”  When Rachel gave her a skeptical look, Annabeth shook her head.  “It wasn’t.  I mean, that was definitely a part of it.  But it’s also…” she paused, then gave a frustrated huff, as if she were searching for words.  “Percy is my person.  He’s been my best friend for years now and he’s the person I trust most in the entire world.  When I thought that he was going to run off to the mortal world and leave all this mythological mess—which it totally was at the time—behind, I just…panicked.”  Annabeth’s shoulders slumped and she sighed.  “And none of that was your fault.  So, I’m sorry.”

Rachel didn’t say anything for several moments as she processed Annabeth’s words.  Honestly, the apology, not to mention the rest of the explanation, had taken her completely by surprise.  She had spent just enough time with Annabeth Chase to guess exactly how hard it had been for her to admit all of that.  And that was something Rachel could respect.  So, she simply said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome?”

Rachel laughed.  “I appreciate the apology.  And I appreciate you sharing the other stuff with me, too.  Now,” she put her hands on her hips, “can we please just move forward and you can help me figure out where in the heck to put this life-size statue of Apollo so that I don’t have to look at it all of the time?”

Annabeth gave a relieved laugh, even as she nodded and turned to study the statue.  “I’m assuming this was his idea?”

“Of course.  And I couldn’t exactly say no.  I’m definitely going to make a loin cloth or something for it, though.”

“Yeah, you don’t need to stare at a naked sun god all day every day.”  Annabeth critically scrutinized the cave, then pointed.  “What about that niche there?  Near the back.  It’ll look like you’ve made him this special shrine or something, but you can also hang a curtain over it to hide it when he’s not here.”

“And there’s the design skills I was hoping for.”  Rachel smiled and Annabeth returned it.  “Now, how are we supposed to move this damn thing?  It weighs possibly a literal ton.”

Annabeth frowned, but just as if she were thinking, not as if she were annoyed.  Then, a mischievous glint came into her eyes and she gave Rachel an evil grin.  “You know what?  I think that sounds like a great job for Percy and Tyson.  Should we go ask them?”

“And let him think we’ve been talking about him?”  Rachel slowly grinned.  “Yeah, let’s go.”

As they left the cave, Rachel suspected that, much to her surprise, she had just made a new friend.

[stardustedknuckles]

It's bedtime and I'm being very sappy, but I just came across a joke that my ex taught me, way back when, and it was good to have a reason to think of her and smile.

There's a great nothing where we used to be, and I feel like I recall the broad strokes and the bad details whenever I think of her. Her trauma and my unassuming arrogance in trying to help her, the nights she wouldn't reply to my texts because she knew I would stay awake terrified she'd hurt herself, the way the only thing she knew how to do with someone who cared for her was to manipulate them just to feel in control of something, and all I knew to do when I knew someone was trying to be better, when they wanted to be good and wanted me, was to stay with them - more importantly, to never give up being wanted by someone I wanted in return.

But the bad is never the whole story. And it's not excusing the fucked up little ball of issues we made together, but we wouldn't have fought so hard for us without the good. And she did teach me jokes and I did get her to sleep at my house that one time, early on, and I smiled up at my ceiling feeling floaty and warm while she slept because I was safe enough to fall asleep around when nobody else was, and she tried as hard as she knew how no matter what anyone else said. Of course she sucked at it. Of course I should've stood up for myself, of course it shouldn't have gone on for as long as it did. Neither of us even knew we were together until it was over and didn't find out we were lesbians for another five years after the end.

But she brought me to her dorm before I ever really understood the risk she was opening herself up to by having someone in a small and empty room alone, I clearly remember the first time she touched me (head on my shoulder) after months of me being careful not to touch her lest she jump out of her skin or start trembling, the paint speckled up her arms the first day of our class together, and the way it felt to have earned every morsel of her stunted and spiky affection. The nights we lingered in my driveway after she got in her car to leave, the cramps in my muscles after leaning for so long and how bright the stars always looked for all of those extra, stolen minutes. Her body weight across my lap while I threaded my fingers through her fine, fine hair (which I could probably still find attached to something, somewhere, even after 8 years). It was like becoming friends with a feral cat and I got scratched plenty. It's much healthier to read about than to live, I promise.

But it's okay to acknowledge that our explosive and often terrible attempts to care for each other were rooted in the earnest attempt to be good to and for the other, whatever our personal reasons why. And sometimes, many times, certainly more as the years went on, we succeeded. There's still nobody I would rather haunt that town with. Those moments of joy snatched from two conflicting kinds of broken shine all the brighter for the confusing mess of hormones and feelings and pasts we snatched them from. How it felt to be safety for someone who had never known it, to feel that sense of purpose before I was old enough to really understand why that was such a problem. I could go on until the sun comes up, but that's okay. Maybe one day I will. But for now I read that dumb little joke and, just for a second, I can remember how she smelled and the way the light that filtered through the old library windows poured over us like beams of honeyed time unspooling around us, the way I rolled my eyes and tried not to laugh lest I break the hush of the third floor - the wicked pride in her eyes, the surprise in them at discovering how much she liked that she made me laugh... and the smile it brings to me isn't bittersweet anymore.

[crystal-clovers]

my Jacq and Professor Willow fic was i think orphaned for NO REASON on AO3 last night.

so here it is

the flashing lights in your eyes pull me down like gravity:

Mesagoza was definitely most beautiful at early morning time. The buildings glowed under the hazy hues of gold and sunlight spilled onto the cobbled paving slabs like paint. The tangerine orange of the sky was the perfect contrast to the violet purple of the majestic school that stood grand and tall to the north of the city. The heat hadn’t kicked in yet, so it was a lovely temperature to walk in.

That’s what Professor Edison Willow had thought, anyway, before passing out sometime before lunch trying to pull two heavy suitcases up the dreaded staircases that every Paldean feared. 

He couldn’t actually remember getting up that set of stairs, of course. When he opened his eyes again he was laid down on a plush purple sofa in an air-conditioned room. His eyes wouldn’t focus properly and he could feel something soft on his stomach growling softly. 

“Houndoom, off of Edison please.” A slightly gruff voice called out, making Willow’s head pound. A man in a purple suit jacket and white trousers leaded over him and smiled slightly. “Ah, you’re awake.” He grabbed a glass of water off of a table near him and handed it to Willow, who sat up in a daze. “Drink this.”

“C-clavell?” Willow looked up at him, brown eyes unfocussed. “Where… why…?”

“You’re in my office. You passed out on the stairs in town…” He propped up his glasses. “You should have gotten a taxi. The midday sun is deadly, you know…”

Willow’s eyes widened. First impressions were everything, and the one he had given to Clavell was not the best. 

“I…I’m so sorry, Clavell… I was lost…” Clavell took off his glasses and cleaned them with a purple cloth. “Who… who found me?”

“Ah, Jacq found you. He was heading out with his fellow teachers to get lunch when they found you-” 

“Jacq…? As in…?” Willow’s ears went a little pink. Jacq Zinnia? They hadn’t spoken in a while. Arceus, he was messing up everything today…

“Mhm, Señor Zinnia. I think you know him.” The director said, grabbing a notebook off of his desk. He opened it and handed Willow a piece of paper. “He wanted me to give you this, by the way. He, uh, wants to speak with you I think.” Clavell’s usually poker faced-lips began to smirk. “Don’t be too prompt though. Make him wait. He’s always late to everything himself.”

“Seems Jacq’s still the same then.” Willow murmured from behind his hand. He scanned the note, which looked like it had been written on a sandwich wrapper or something. 

“Indeed he is. I remember when we worked together we would always go overtime. Cost me a fortune, it did, paying for the extra time we spent in the laboratory.” Clavell shook his head, placing the book down and sitting at his desk. “I’m sorry… I’m talking badly about someone who helped me so much…”

“No, no… Thank you though… I’ve already caused you so much trouble.” 

“You haven’t. You’re more than welcome.” Clavell smiled, standing up once more and softly patting one of Willow’s shoulders. “Better you’re here than anywhere else, to be honest.”

“Thank you…” Willow sighed, watching as Clavell grabbed something else off of his desk. 

“I have your hotel keys, by the way. Raifort picked them up when Jacq took you here. Your belongings are at the hotel… Saguaro may have unpacked some of your stuff already, you know what he’s like, but I don’t know if he would have set it out the way you like it, so don’t feel like you can’t move it yourself…” Willow had zoned out by now, not understanding what the director was going on about. “Sorry… I must be boring you.”

“...What? No, no… I just don’t know who you’re talking about.” He smiled awkwardly. Clavell stifled a laugh and shook his head, silky grey hair floating about as he did so. 

“They’re other teachers here. Don’t worry much.” A soft ringing noise filled the otherwise silent room. “Jacq might be free now… You’re good friends, right?” Arceus damnit, he could probably see the pink on his ears. 

“We were… We lost contact though a couple of years back when he became a teacher… We work in different fields now, I guess.” 

“Well, you’re here now, so maybe you could be friends again?” The director said with a hint of cheek in his voice. 

“Maybe… maybe…” Willow stood up, still feeling a bit shaky and sick. 

“Take it easy and drink lots please, Edison.” His voice changed a bit to more of a teacher sounding tone. One that meant the orders had to be followed; <i>strictly</i> followed. 

“I will sir- I mean Clavell! Haha…” <i>Oh Arceus</i>.

~~~

“Whoops! Haha… Looks like that’s all we have time for today! Please make sure to do your homework; it’s nice and short this week… Heh, please don’t tell the director that I made it shorter… heh…” Jacq chuckled sheepishly before clapping his hands together. “Right, let's get packed up ready for period five please.” The young students began to pack up their belongings and soon enough they were charging into the hallway like Tauros stampeding to their prey. The biologist chuckled to himself, sitting down in front of his desk and pulling out a notebook.

There was a knock at the door before a familiar face peered out of it. 

Jacq’s eyes went wide. “Oh, Edison! ¡Hola!” He stood up abruptly, nearly falling over himself. “You feeling better?”

“Hey, Jacq- Hm? Yeah, yeah, thanks…”

“Sweet Miraidon, it's been ages, hasn’t it?” He shuffled closer to the professor, a wide smile on his face. “Wow… You look so different…”

Willow chuckled. “What do you mean by that, Zinnia?” He put his hands on his hips jokingly.

“You look… Worn out, tired… <i>aged</i>...” He giggled to himself and patted his old friend on the shoulder. “Not a bad thing, mind! Comes with hard work!”

“Yet your skin is perfect! Or are you saying you slack off?” 

“Oye! I moisturise.” Jacq shook his head. “You have reasons to look tired. You have Spark, don’t you?” 

Willow smiled softly. “Yeah, but he’s grown up now. Gosh, he’s 19 in December…” Willow sighed. “I really am getting old, aren’t I?”

“You’re thirty-six, Ed, not sixty-six.” Jacq laughed. 

“Yeah, but you’re younger than me, so you can’t talk.” 

“Sit down, amigo. You look faint.” To be honest, he was feeling a little light headed again. He let Jacq pull one of the little plastic chairs from one of the desks at the front of the classroom over to his desk before patting it. Willow sat down, legs feeling a little wobbly as he did. “Better?”

“Much, thanks Jacq…” The purple haired man smiled softly, grey eyes looking into Willow’s as he began to talk quietly. 

“How come you’re here then? It was quite the surprise seeing you unconscious in the middle of the city earlier.” 

“Sorry about that. Guess I’m not as used to the heat as others are.”

“Galar doesn’t get that hot, does it? Not all year around, at least.”

“No, it doesn’t… Stays pretty miserable all year… Rainy and cold and gloomy…” 

“Ah, rain… I love rain. Cools me down, heh…” Jacq shook his head, his soft lilac hair getting messier as he did so. “My question still remains; why are you here?” 

“Uh, well, Clavell offered to let me borrow his equipment if I wanted to come here and study pokemon here… Our bases have been in Galar and Kalos recently and I wanted to come and work here for a while… What’re you looking at?” Jacq was frowning at him, making him start to get flustered. “Is there…?” Jacq lent over and touched a sore spot on his head. 

“Does that hurt?” He pushed down on it, and it took every bit of Willow not to yelp out in pain. 

“Mhm!”

“That’s a bad bruise you have there. Must have hit your head when you fell. Don’t feel dizzy, right? No signs of concussion?”

“No, I think I’m ok, thanks…” 

“Sorry, sorry… I interrupted.” 

“Ah, yeah, sorry. Uh, so I said yes and now I’m staying at a hotel hopefully not too far from here…”

“La Indiga? Yeah, I know where that is. A short walk.” Jacq rested his cheek on his fist, his soft, caring smile back on his face. 

“Yeah, that one… Clavell’s paying for the hotel rent, I think.” Hopefully, seeing as the hotel looked quite expensive. 

“He’s nice like that. Gets a bit angry with me though, probably because I’m late to important things. He knows me though, so it isn’t too bad.” 

“You’re still the same then, late to everything.”

“Sure am. Tired as ever though, to be honest Ed. These kids run me ragged.” 

“Really? You won’t say…” Jacq smiled again, shaking his head and sighing. 

“Lucky I don’t have another class today. Just need to do some marking then do some more prep for my speech-”

“Speech? Oh, shit, the Ecological Society one… right…” 

“You going?” Jacq raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I’m not saying anything this time, but I’ll watch.” Jacq’s cheeks went a bit pink at this, before he cleared his throat and stood up. 

“Root for me, yeah? I’m nervous.”

“How come? You have nothing to worry about.”

“Hm? Sure I do. My lisp and all.”

“It’s your accent, Jacqi.” The room went silent, making them <i>both</i> feel nervous. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Ed.”

“It’s nice to see you too. Kinda missed our chats.”

“Same. It’s been so long.” Jacq headed towards the door. “Know where your hotel is?”

Willow stood up as well, putting the chair back. “I’m sure I’ll manage.” They headed out of the classroom and into the long hallway of the academy. 

They walked in silence until they reached a large door with a sign next to it that read ‘STAFF ROOM’. Jacq turned to face the taller professor and smiled. 

“You can come in if you want. I’m sure no one will mind.” 

The blonde smiled anxiously before mumbling back. “I… I should go to my hotel… I’m so sorry.”

“Oye, don’t be! I know you’re pretty shy. Come stop off here though later; they want to meet you since, well, finding you on the floor, I guess… heh…” Jacq went quiet before looking up at Willow with a strange look in his eyes. “You… have the same number, right? As before, I mean…” Willow heard him gulp and look down at his feet. 

“Yeah, and the same email address.”

“Text me when you get there, please, just to make sure you haven’t collapsed again, that is.” 

“I will do. Uh… How do you get out of here?”  Both men smiled and began to chuckle. 

“Down the stairs, amigo. Don’t fall down them, por favor.”

“I won’t! See you later.”

“Hasta mañana, Ed.” Jacq waved him off before heading into the staff room.

~~~ 

Professor Willow laid on his pristinely white bed, looking up at the equally pristinely white ceiling. The hotel he was staying at was definitely on the posher end; it was to be expected, seeing as Clavell had been the one to book it. 

His heart was beating strangely fast… Maybe it was the heatstroke or maybe a heart attack was approaching. 

Seeing Jacq again after so long was… strange, really. Going from close friends and colleagues, to not speaking, to suddenly speaking again after two years wasn’t something Willow had ever done; usually if he stopped talking to someone it was because he had either fallen out with them or saw no reason to talk to them anymore.

That wasn’t the case though. He hadn’t fallen out with Jacq at all and if he was his friend, then there was obviously a reason to talk to him. Maybe it was because they didn’t see each other as much, or their schedules just didn’t allow time to speak to each other. 

The professor sighed, ruffled his hair, then sighed again. He laid his head back into the soft pillows, trying to calm his heart rate at least just a little bit by closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He slowly began to fall asleep, head tilting slightly as he drifted off. 

It was no surprise really, that he jumped up when his phone buzzed, seeing as he was half asleep and had forgotten his phone was in his hands. As he shot up, his head began to spin, so he laid back down and looked at his phone with squinted eyes. 

<b>Jacq Zinnia</b> hi edison, it was really nice seeing you earlier (and, well, finding you on the floor I guess jajaja). i was wondering if you are free tomorrow, after the conference? i just want to catch up, that’s all; wanna treat you to dinner ;)  i’ll pay, don’t worry! let me know!

Oh, great… Now his heart was back to racing at a million miles an hour.

He’d admit, Jacq had aged… well. His complexion was still impeccable, with no sign of a wrinkle or impurity at all, at least from what Willow could see. His olive skin was still as soft as it was and-

Gah! 

What the heck was wrong with him?! 

After mentally getting his shit together, he picked up his phone again and began typing a message back.

It took several attempts and a lot of internal screaming to get it right, but in the end he had a sort of acceptable message.

<b>Edison Willow</b> Hi Jacq. It was nice seeing you too (sorry about that…). Sounds good; I’m free after six so I can go to the conference and then I’m free all night (if that’s good for you, of course. I know you have other friends). Thank you :) 

And as if Jacq was trying to give Willow a heart attack, the teacher replied in under two minutes. 

<b>Jacq Zinnia</b> sounds great! i was just thinking we could be by ourselves at dinner tho- i hang out with those guys a lot and to be honest I want to catch up with just you amigo… (DON'T TELL THEM JAJA!)

<b>Edison Willow</b> Sounds good. Where should we meet tomorrow? As long as all of this is ok for you…

<b>Jacq Zinnia</b> i wouldn’t offer if i didn’t want it, ed… of course we can. i know a GREAT place which serves paella a couple of streets away from the conference venue, if you like paella, that is… want to meet in my classroom, at 6:30? or if it’s too public we can meet in the city centre somewhere…? whatever’s good for you

<b>Edison Willow</b> Never had it… But it sounds good to me. Can we meet in your classroom? I’ll get lost otherwise.

<b>Jacq Zinnia</b> i bet you’ll like it. it’s rice with vegetables (you can have it with fish but i know you’re veggie) with like this seasoning/sauce stuff. but yeah, course we can (meet in my room). anyway… i’m gonna go to sleep once i’ve marked these papers. chat tomorrow amigo! :)

<b>Edison Willow</b> Sounds good. Sleep well. 

The professor whipped one of the plush pillows from behind his head and screamed into it. 

~~~

Willow ended up not actually doing much work the next day, instead procrastinating about the event happening later on. 

The director obviously could see that, as he began making comments about it.

“So, what work have you actually been doing?” He smirked from behind his tea mug. 

“I’m writing up data reports, honestly.”

“Does data make you blush? And does data make you check your watch every five minutes?” This man… honestly…

Luckily six rolled around quite quickly and soon enough Willow was packing up his things. He felt a hand on his shoulder just as he was about to head out of the office, so he turned around and was met with Clavell’s soft gaze.  

“I have almost no idea what’s going on here, but if it’s something good then good luck.” He smiled then turned to head back to his desk. 

“I… uh, thanks?”

“I’ll see you later, hopefully.” All Willow could do was smile politely back and run out of the door, leaving Clavell to chuckle to himself. 

The walk to Jacq’s classroom was an interesting one, with students who were studying in the hallways constantly looking at him and subsequently laughing at him (did he look that weird? Maybe they weren’t used to professors wandering around the halls…)

He was just approaching the door when a purple blur whipped out of it and hastily ran into him. Out of pure instinct, like Spark would say, Willow caught his friend as he fell backwards, one hand on Jacq’s back and the other on his wrist. The teacher smiled, a slight blush painting his tanned cheeks. 

“Uh… E-edison!” He shakily laughed. “Sorry about that! I… I wanted to see if you were outside or something…! Heh… um…” Willow helped him back onto his feet, shaking his head.

“I was just coming here… Am I late?”

“No… I’m just… impatient.” Jacq’s cheeks went even darker. 

“You ready?”

“I guess…”

~~~

“We’d like to thank you all for coming tonight, as we have some very important speeches to be held about various new species of pokemon that we have located. Our first speech is from Professor Burnet Kukui, from the Alola region.” The commentator began to clap as the Alolan professor walked on stage. 

“She’s really good… I’ve seen some of her work, but I can’t understand it…” Jacq muttered to Willow as the clapping began to subside. “She studies that field of work you need to see you believe, I guess.” 

“Mhm… It’s a weird thing to study…” Willow mumbled back. 

The blonde professor didn’t really pay attention to the seminar much, especially Elm’s speech (he found it much too drab to pay attention). He knew Jacq’s speech was towards the end, but coming in halfway would probably appear rude. Then again, most of the people talking he either didn’t talk much with or in some cases didn’t even know who they were. 

Jacq was chewing his fingernails too much to pay attention as well, every few seconds licking his lips and checking the time. It was to be expected; if the two scientists shared anything in common it was definitely their stage fright. During Willow’s first years of being a professor, he would become so anxious about speaking publicly that his legs would start to shake visibly- not something that looked very good in front of an audience. 

The purple clad man’s hands began to shake half an hour until he needed to go backstage and prepare, his breathing audible over the random and quite frankly boring speaker who was going on about the use of berries or whatever. From the corner of his brown eyes, Willow kept an eye on his friend, trying to make sure his breathing didn’t get too erratic.

“Mr Nelson, do you think berries are actually the key to better working pokemon, or is there a more cost effective way?”

“Some berries are quite hard to source in certain regions, however…”

“Jacq…?” The teacher looked over at Willow, eyes full blown and the slightest bit glossy. 

“Mhm?”

Reluctantly, not because he didn’t want to help Jacq, but merely because it could be seen as… something else, Willow offered Jacq his hand, keeping his hand quite low so the people sitting next to them and behind them didn’t get the wrong idea. 

“You said my name, right?” Jacq whispered. Willow nodded and looked down at his hand for a split second, before looking back up at Jacq, who could have gone a little red (it was hard to tell; the lights were off). “You ok?”

“I’m making sure you are. You’re shaking.” Hand still empty, Willow kept it where it was, just in case. 

“This always happens, amigo. Don’t worry.”

“You’re shaking. How am I not supposed to worry?” There was a moment of silence between them as another young lady walked onto the stage and as the crowd began to clap. Jacq clapped, but as soon as the noise died down, Willow could feel something soft and warm grasping his now quite achy hand. It was shaking like a Snorunt, but definitely warmer than one. Thin, bony fingers slid between the gaps of his, naturally making the professor want to clasp his fingers around them. 

Shyly, he looked over at Jacq, who unfortunately was looking at him at the same time, causing the Butterfree in his stomach to go absolutely apeshit. Jacq smiled warmly at him, before shuffling a little closer to Willow in his seat. 

“Sorry if this is weird.” He whispered, the professor feeling the other man’s thumb begin to rub up and down the side of his index finger. 

“You need to calm down, Jacq… That’s all.” It really wasn’t.

“Is it though?”

“Mhm.”

Jacq paused for a moment, before smirking. “Still alright for dinner, right?”

“Course I am.”

“You can let go if you want to…” 

“I’m fine, Jacq, seriously.” 

“Mmm… ok…” Jacq’s hand eventually stopped shaking, instead he would squeeze Willow’s hand every so often just to check he was still awake (this woman’s voice couldn’t get any more melancholy). 

About five minutes until Jacq’s speech, the teacher squeezed his friend’s hand a little harder than usual and let go of it. Willow’s hand was sticky from sweat (had he been sweating?!). 

“After the seminar, meet behind the curtains, just there.” Jacq pointed towards backstage. Willow gave a short nod before his friend stood up and headed out of the main hall.

He returned a few minutes later, a microphone in hand and a couple of pieces of slightly tea-coloured paper. He cleared his throat and began his speech. 

“Good evening, Levincia. I am Jacq Zinnia, a pokemon biologist from Mesagoza. Recently we have sighted an increase in a few invasive species of pokemon which can cause famine across groups of other more vulnerable pokemon and in some cases mass extinction of a species- this is what I would like to discuss with you today, so we, the World Pokemon Ecological Society and the general public, know whag to do during these outbreaks…” 

For the first time throughout the whole seminar, Willow listened to everything Jacq said, even the parts which were totally just made to be fillers. At the end of it all, he clapped harder than he had for everyone else combined, smiling at his friend as he clumsily bowed and waved as he exited. 

~~~

“You were amazing tonight.” Willow said between sips of his wine. 

“Heh… Thanks Ed…” Jacq smiled momentarily before looking up at his friend inquisitively. “How are things with you then? How’s Spark getting on? Last time I actually saw him in person he was just starting middle school…”

“He’s way bigger now. He lives with a couple of his roommates at uni now…”

“Sweet Miraidon… How time flies by, ey…”

“Indeed. He’s very bright though. Studying biology, actually.” Willow smiled as Jacq perked up dramatically.

“Really!? Just generally or something specific?” 

“He’s interested in breeding and eggs. How different pokemon with different natures breed and whether that changes how a pokemon acts.” Willow chuckled. “He probably would be better at explaining it than me to be fair.”

“He sounds so intelligent… The leppa berry obviously doesn’t fall far from the tree…” The teacher muttered, running his finger over his lemonade glass. On the opposite side of the table, Willow’s cheeks went bright red, making him grow warm all across his body. “I would love to chat to him at some point.”

“Hm? Yeah, I can ask if he’s free at some point.” Willow forced a smile, trying to calm the blush on his cheeks. “How about you? How’s home life with you?”

“I live on my own and work’s been consuming me recently, so I haven’t had chance to chat with any of my family. I mean, I stay in contact with my cousins, of course, but I haven’t had chance to fly over to them at all…”

“They still live in Galar?”

“Yeah. Apparently Hop’s bright too! He’s working with Professor Sonia, actually.” He sipped his drink. “You’ve met Hop once, haven't you? When Hoppy was a baby.”

“Yeah, I’ve met him. He must be so grown up now…” 

“Turning 15 next October.” Jacq laughed as Willow’s eyes grew wide. “Heh… What?”

“He’s still the size of my forearm to me! I must be so old.”

“Again, Edison, you are only thirty-six. You just had Spark young, that’s all.” Jacq shrugged. “Thinking about it, you were only seventeen, so really there isn’t much of a time difference.”

“How old’s Leon?”

“A few years younger than me… Must be… twenty-nine now? Yeah…”

“You’re 32, right?”

“I wish. Thirty-five in February.” Jacq laughed. “I’m not getting any younger either.”

“You look much better than I do though.” 

Jacq stuttered for a couple of minutes before clearing his throat. “Thanks Ed. Not looking too bad yourself.” There was a pause before Jacq began to speak again. “So, is there someone special in your life? I mean, since Spark moved out have you been seeing anyone? A special lady or something?”

With a shake of his head, Willow said, “No… Heh, no ladies, ever.” Jacq’s grey eyes grew wide. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry I assumed.”

“No, no. Seriously. I just… I’ve tried, of course, but every time I get to know someone and we start going out they ditch me. Maybe I just repel everyone after a few weeks.”

“Ay, ay, I’m sure that’s not true. I think it’s their problem, Ed. You’re a genuine, sweet guy. I’m not sure why anyone would leave you, unless you treated them badly, which I highly doubt ever happened.” Jacq reached over the table to run his fingers over Willow’s knuckles.

“That’s the thing. I treat them so well… Lots of them even start the relationship and then are the ones to end it. Like this one time things were going really well with this guy I met in Unova and I got so comfortable with him we decided to take the next step… And, um, I forgot to tell him something really important; I thought he would be fine with it… But as soon as I was naked and he saw me… The chest scars were one thing, but when I was completely vulnerable… He said I wasn’t a real man; said I wasn’t the body he was looking for and left me right there…” Willow stopped, realising he hadn’t looked at Jacq since he had started talking. “Shit, sorry-”

“No, no.” Jacq was looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face. “Don’t be afraid to talk my ears off. It must have been horrible…” He shuffled a bit. “That guy didn’t deserve you, honestly. It didn’t matter if you had told him before, it shouldn’t have mattered to him. If he loved you then he wouldn’t have cared.” He gripped Willow’s hand, their fingers intertwining. “Don’t let him think you’re not worthy of someone, ok? Because one day you will find someone who treasures you for who you are.” Willow looked down at their hands and squeezed the smaller hand gently.

“Thank you, Jacq. It means everything to me to hear that.” Jacq let go of his friend’s hand, resting his chin on it. “How about you?”

“Don’t laugh, but the last date I had was over 15 years ago.” 

Willow blinked. “Sorry? You’ve seriously not seen anyone for that long?”

“Nope. Guess I’ve been waiting for the right person to come along. I’ve had crushes, sure, but not since I’ve been a teacher.”

“Lady crushes or men?”

“I like both… But my last proper crush was a guy. I liked him for ages and ages and then suddenly I didn’t see him any more. But, that’s life, I guess.” 

Willow raised an eyebrow. “Why did you stop seeing each other? Why didn’t you chase him if you liked him?”

“He wanted to do his own thing whereas I wanted something different in life, I guess… Nevermind, Ed, it’s getting late.” Jacq looked at his watch. “I’m kinda sad our dinner together has gone by so quick…” He looked almost sullen as he spoke. “Mesagoza’s a bit of a distance from here and taxi bills can rack up horribly fast… Hey, how about I drive you back to your place? We could talk in the car and stuff…” He quirked one eyebrow. 

“Hmmm… depends.” Willow smirked. 

“On?” His cheeky expression melted into worry. 

“What sort of car do you have?” Quickly, the fear on his friend’s face vanished as he realised Willow was joking. 

“Heh… A Volkswagen.” 

“What type?” 

“A… Volkswagen.” Now it was Willow’s turn to laugh. “What?”

“You remind me of someone, that’s all.”

“Who…?”

“Myself.” 

There was a brief silence before Jacq spoke again. 

“You wanna go in my car, right?”

“Course I do. I was only playing.” 

~~~

The rain battered against the windscreen as Jacq drove down the highway, the two men in the car silent. Every so often the teacher would lick his lips as he tried to see properly out of the window. 

“The rain’s getting really bad…” Jacq muttered. “It’s getting hard to see. Stupid rain.”

“I thought you liked the rain…” Both men smirked. 

“I do, but I like not crashing the car more, especially with you in it.”

“Why does having me in the car change the amount of distaste you have for crashing the car?”

“I don’t want to kill you…? If I killed you I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” The car was plunged into another silence.

“Pull over.”

“Hm?”

“Pull over. I literally can’t see a thing.” The windscreen wipers were doing their best to get rid of the rain on the window, but their efforts weren’t enough. The only thing they could see was the headlights of the cars on the other side of the road. Jacq indicated that he was turning off and slowly pulled into a small wooded road off of the highway. He drove until the wood was deep enough that they couldn’t see the main road anymore. He turned his engine off and turned his head towards the professor. 

“Sorry… This might delay us getting home.”

“I would rather stay here than die on the road trying to get to Mesagoza, to be fair.” Willow’s voice went lower, his eyes softening. “I don’t need to get back for anything anyway.”

“Neither do I. You might want to sleep though. You can go to sleep.” His hand slowly crept over to Willow’s side of the car, resting on his thigh. Willow scooped it up carefully. 

“Can I ask you something, Jacq?”

“Go ahead.” 

“Are your hands always cold or something? You like holding hands, that’s all. Or is it something here in Paldea that people do naturally?”

Jacq went silent. 

“Jacq?”

“I’m not cold. I’m just wondering if I’m doing a bad job.”

Willow shook his head, his eyes wandering along every corner of Jacq’s face. “Can I ask you something else then?” His voice was merely a whisper. 

“Mhm…”

“The guy you liked and then left… I had something similar, except I was the one who left. Can I ask who it was you liked?”

“<i>Like</i>, actually. I still like him now. Right now I’m thinking about him, thinking about what I could say to get him to like me back.” Jacq moved a little closer, his warm breath tickling Willow’s stubbled on his chin. 

“You haven’t answered my question, Jacq.”

“Do I have to?”

“Only because I want to be the one who says I like you first.”

Jacq laughed softly, undoing his seatbelt and moving closer to the professor. “Maldito… I wanted to be the one who said it.”

“Say it then. Go on…” Jacq put his hand behind Willow’s head, the messy locks soft in between his fingers, so when he shuffled off of his seat and practically onto Willow’s the professor didn’t hit his head. 

“I… I really like you, Eddie. I have for a long time. I hope you have too…”

“Course I have. Did you think the only reason I offered you my hand earlier was because I saw you shaking?”

“Not for a second.” 

Both of them smiled, Jacq leaning in to peck Willow on the cheek. The professor blushed, heart pounding.

“You can do it on my lips, if you want.” So he did. The teacher licked his soft lips before pressing them against the other man’s, letting himself relax for a moment before pulling away. He brushed Willow’s hair away from his face before smiling. 

“Thank you.”

“Why… are you thanking me?” Jacq kissed his cheek. 

“For kissing me.” 

“No, thank you for letting me.” He muttered into Willow’s ear. “You liked me as well, then?”

“Yeah… I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, though, but I feared I’d already done that by leaving.”

“Hey, we did what we needed to do. It didn’t ruin anything. If anything it made me like you even more, because when I started missing you that’s when I knew I liked you.” Willow gulped, reaching up to play with Jacq’s unruly hair. The teacher smiled warmly.

“I can’t believe you like me like this though.”

“I do, yeah. What isn’t there to like? You’re handsome, intelligent, funny, kind and honestly, Edison… I couldn’t ask for more in someone than you. You’re so goddamn amazing that you felt out of my league, though.”

“Are you serious? Jacq, you’re the smartest guy I know. Hell, you practically MADE the Pokedex!”

“Heh, not quite…”

“Oh, be quiet. You underestimate yourself.” Willow leaned towards Jacq’s face and kissed his cheek, feeling the prickly stubble on his lips. 

“You, uh, wanna…?” Jacq gulped. “Do you want to be my…?”

“Hm?” 

“Mi novio?” Jacq blurted out. “Sorry… my boyfriend.”

“Can we take it slow?”

“Of course, of course! Ed, we can do this however you want to.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Jacq nodded. “Por supuesto, amor.”

~~~