#maybe my white and green one since the pages in the pretty floral one are kinda yellowed

[andragoras-in-vanity]

WHY. EVERY TIME I LOOK AT ART SUPPLIES DO I FEEL COMPLETELY READY TO SPEND 200 BUCKS. I NEED NEW BOOTS, MAN.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 4)

i hope yall enjoyed the last part, we took a sudden and quite dirty turn ther,e but we are heading down romantic street and its all sweet and cute with a little hotness. let me know what you thought about the part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4.7k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Harry Styles managed to leave quite the impression in you following his late night visit after the Emmys. He surely surprised you with not only the unbelievable orgasm he gave you with his talented fingers, but also with how big of a gentleman he really was, so keen on taking you out on a date first before he would kiss you. The timeline got a little messed up and he did apologize before he left at two in the morning for getting too carried away, but you assured him he didn’t do anything you didn’t want him to. To be honest, you wouldn’t have had a word against him kissing you right away, but you liked the respect he had for you, not something you’ve had plenty of lately. The men you dealt with in the past year were eager to get into your pants without the respect part, only hungry to earn fame through you, trying to blind you with sex so you wouldn’t realize their ugly motives.

This was not a threat when it came to Harry, he was just as famous as you, maybe even more. He had his own career, his own money, his own life apart from yours and he clearly wasn’t trying to use you and it was quite a refreshing change for you.

He stayed and the two of you talked so much, just sharing crazy stories from your life before and after fame, enjoying that you had someone who shared more or less the same background as you. Apart from Florence, you pretty much kept your old friends when your career took off, afraid to make new ones, always feeling a little paranoid that new people would have unholy motives when they try to befriend you.

Though you truly love your friends, they don’t really see behind the life you are living, while Harry completely does. His company is the best you’ve had in a long time, he is able to make you completely forget about everything outside the room you two are in.

You tried your best to hide your disappointment when he left that night. After offering him to stay in one of your guest bedrooms, he politely turned it down, and even though you could tell he wanted to stay, the urge to be a gentleman was greater in him, something you admire him for.

He left with the promise to see you soon on a real date and he got you as excited as a little school girl on the day of a fieldtrip.

However, given the lifestyles you two were living, finding a suitable evening for the both of you turns out to be a bigger struggle than you expected. Harry reaches out right the next day after his little visit. A good morning text waits for you by the time you open your eyes in the noon and by the evening he asks you out, however you have to realize the date has to wait a little.

You have two trip outside the city upcoming in the next two weeks and he is also planning to fly back to London for a while, the trips totally crashing in the timeline, not even having just the smallest window that would fit the both of you.

Accepting the fact that it would have to wait a little longer, you keep in close touch, eager to find the date that would finally be suitable for you and him as well. Endless texts, sweet calls and sneaky FaceTimes scatter through the days you spend apart and you find it hard to think of a time when he wasn’t hitting you up all the time.

On a Thursday evening, after a long day of fittings for upcoming events, you find yourself sitting on your couch with a sweet glass of wine, scrolling through your social media feeds when something catches your eyes.

Harry has been away in Los Angeles in the past few days and he mentioned having an interview the other day, but you didn’t think it would be out so soon, but here it was, a short video clip cut out by some random page that had a rather interesting title.

“Harry Styles talks about next album and mystery girl in his life.”

Your curiosity is way too strong not to click on it and have a look at it, so taking a sip from your wine you tap on the link and let the video load.

“It’s been some time since your last album came out, have you been working on new music lately?” the interviewer asked from behind the camera as Harry sat on a lilac sofa, wearing black high-waisted pants with a pink and white floral printed shirt tugged into it, his suspenders topping the look perfectly. His green eyes are fixed on the person asking him as he nods.

“Yeah, I think I never really stop making new music. I do have sessions when I’m trying to put a new album together, but I also write in the meantime as well, whenever I have an idea or inspiration. I don’t hold back,” he adds with a cheeky smile.

“Have you found any inspiration lately?” the question is heard and Harry nods once again.

“I have, actually,” he answers shortly, but his smirk gives it away that there’s a lot more behind his words and you feel your heart flutter in your chest. Is he talking about you?

“Has it been a person?” the reporter inquires, making Harry’s smile grow wider.

“A lot of things and people inspire me.”

“Alright, and is your latest inspiration something or someone new in your life?” the guy tries again, even though it’s well known that Harry likes to give vague answers instead of straight yeses and nos.

“Kind of new,” he simply answers and the reporter realizes he won’t be sharing more about the topic so he moves on with the next question and the video cuts out right there.

Though it wasn’t mentioned that he was talking about someone in particular, his fans drew the assumption that he is definitely seeing someone who has been his inspiration behind his new music. Feeling bold and a little flirty, you open up your messages and send him a quick text.

“A kind of new inspiration, huh?”

His reply comes almost right away, as always.

“Have you been stalking fanpages about me?”

“Would it be weird?”

“From you? It’s flattering. Little scary, but in a good way.”

You can’t help but chuckle reading his words. He never fails to make you laugh, you find his humor your favorite kind, never hurtful, but a little spicy, if you could say that, a lot of irony laced into it.

“Back to the topic: what’s your inspiration? Or should I ask… who is your inspiration?”

“Not gonna beat around the bush and just admit it…”

You wait and wait… and wait, but nothing comes afterwards and you are dying to have him admit that it’s been you, but not even the three dots appear at the bottom, so you take the lead again.

“Well, do it. Admit it, Styles!”

The fucker likes your message right away, meaning he has been in the thread all along, waiting for you to write something.

“Alright, but don’t tell anyone, because she is kinda famous and I don’t want the media to find out about it.”

“You have my silence.”

You watch the three dots dance at the bottom, holding your breath while you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to contain your wide grin that’s been plastered across your face this whole time.

When the text finally arrives you snort loudly, almost spilling your wine, laughing so hard you are happy you don’t like in a tiny apartment anymore with paper walls, because your neighbor would have definitely heard your laughter all the way down the hallway.

“It’s Betty White. Fuck, she is all I can think about.”

You need a minute to stop the laughter and type your reply.

“She is hot, gotta give you that.”

“Right?? I hope she is not afraid to date younger guys though.”

“I’m sure she would make an exception for you.”

“I hope so too.”

There’s a short pause, where you just read back his lines, chuckling to yourself some more. He always has a witty comment or comeback, no matter what you’re talking about and not once has he made you laugh madly on a set, at a meeting or just lying in bed before going to sleep.

“Joke aside, would it scare you away if I said I have definitely written about you?”

“Is this another theoretical question? Like the one you asked me on Ellen?”

You smile to yourself thinking back at the conversation the two of you had on the show when he was trying to figure out if you’d be up to give him your number.

“Maybe. So theoretically, would that be weird to you?”

“No,” you write, but quickly send another text. “But you know, it’s just theory. You’d have to tell me for real to find out.”

“Should have saw that coming…”

“Yeah, you really should have,” you muse to yourself, finishing up your glass and you carefully put it to your coffee table before sliding further down on the couch to get back to the conversation with Harry. You see that he hasn’t sent anything after his last one, so you decide to actually answer his question.

“Joke aside from my part, I wouldn’t find it weird. I think it’s flattering.”

“Okay, because I was ready to burn all my notes if you said it would be too much.”

“What if you’d be burning a Grammy worthy song though?”

“Would be a shame. But I would still burn it for you.”

“You are such a flirt…”

“Can’t help it! Or should I not be?”

“I like it. So don’t change.”

“Noted.”

Your little conversation has to come to an end since he is about to go into a meeting, but when you say your goodbyes and decide it’s time to head to bed, you already know a text will be waiting for you when you wake up in the morning.

Days and even weeks go by and you start to have a little too much on your plate. No matter how much you love your job and that it has always been your dream, sometimes you just need a breather. In the past week you’ve been in and out of auditions for a movie they keep top secret, you didn’t even get a script, just a few pages you had to memorize and they’ve been asking for more and more tapes from you with kind of absurd requests, but your agent told you it’s something major, that’s why they are so secretive. However, when they ask you to come in for another reading for the fifth time in seven days and you still don’t know what you are really auditioning for, you are kind of starting to have enough with all your other projects running at the same time. Your days start at six in the morning and rarely end before eleven in the night.

An entire month after the night Harry came over to your place, you kind of lose patience. The frustration that’s been building up inside you just simply bursts when your agent texts you on your way home that you’d have to go in for another casting in the morning for the same mystery movie.

“Have they not seen my face enough?” you snap, hands meeting the wheel as you keep your eyes on the road ahead of you.

“I’m sorry, Hun. I know it’s annoying, but they requested you, that means you are still an option for them.” Mona’s voice comes through the speakers of the car since your phone is connected to it.

“Do they need me to read the whole fucking Bible in front of a camera or what?” you growl.

“I have a good feeling about this last one, alright? And if they still can’t decide after that, we can always just say that we want out.”

“Then I would be labelled as the problematic little princess,” you sigh, knowing well how this industry works. Just one mistake and you can easily end up in a theoretical ditch.

“Just hold on a little longer, okay? I’ll send you the details in email and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Bye, girl.”

Mona is an angel. She’s been your agent for about five years now, she is the one who gets you into castings, well, at least that’s what she was doing before you managed to reach your breakthrough. She got your name on lists you couldn’t even dare to dream of and she is the reason why you are here today. Now she mostly handles requests for you to go in for castings, creators started to reach out to you a while ago, though Mona still works her magic sometimes to get you into castings that are still out of your league.

By the time you get home, you are desperate to do something. Anything. You’ve been nonstop working these past weeks and you just need to get out of this loop that sucked you in. Before you could even think through what you’re doing, you dial Harry’s number.

He is back in the city, that you know of because he texted even before he got home. You both ditched the idea of having your date today, because you just knew it would be a long day for you, and it’s the truth, it’s past ten, so not quite ideal for a date, but you ran out of fucks to give.

“Y/N? Everything alright?” he asks, noticing that you called, which is not what you usually do, or at least not without checking in if he is free to talk.

“Yeah, sorry I called so randomly. Are you busy?” you ask, feeling a little out of breath, even though you definitely didn’t do anything physically hard. You just can’t help but feel anxious since you are about to ask him out on a spontaneous date.

“No, just… packing and all that. What’s up?”

“So you don’t have anything to do right now?” you clear up.

“No,” he chuckles.

“Alright, so then… what do you say we have that date now?”

Even with him always being so blunt and open about how interested he is in you, it still makes you perfect to ask him out. The silence that comes from his side doesn’t necessarily help either and you are already preparing yourself to get rejected.

“You know it’s ten pm, right?” he then asks, a little unsure if you really thought it through.

“I am aware, yes.”

“Don’t you have work in the morning? I know you always start your days so early, I don’t want to be the reason why yo—“

“Harry,” you stop him midsentence. “I do not give a fuck about what I’m doing in the morning,” you bluntly tell him and you can tell he is smiling on the other end of the call. “So the question is still the same. Do you want to have that date now?”

He doesn’t ask anything else, just simply say the following: “I’ll pick you up in thirty.”

“Make it twenty,” you tell him and end the call before he could protest.

Ignoring the adrenaline rush you that just washed over your body you quickly make your way to the bathroom to take the quickest cold shower before putting on some clean clothes. You really don’t want to overdo it, knowing well since it’s so abrupt he wouldn’t be taking you anywhere that would require you look spotless. You choose not to put on any makeup, not just because you don’t have the time, but also because you feel a weird urge to just be bare, be yourself around him. The same goes for your outfit. You put aside all designer clothes and opt for a simple pair of jeans, a black tank top and a bright yellow knitted jumper over it, looking awfully casual, but feeling rather comfortable.

It takes Harry 22 minutes to get to your place, but you choose not to comment on those two extra minutes when you get into his car. Luckily, he isn’t dressed to impress either, wearing a simple pair of jeans with some kind of washed out, vintage printed tee shirt with his Bode Jacket he has worn in his famous SNL episode. His hair looks a little mess and even wet, making you wonder if your call caught him in the middle of a shower or he showered after you agreed to meet up.

“Long time no see,” he smiles at you, his boyish smirk making your heart flutter so easily as he eyes you while you buckle yourself up.

“You had plenty of paparazzi photos to look at in the meantime, Mr. Styles,” you smirk at him teasingly as he starts the car and leaves from in front of your complex.

“My favorite was the ones of you where you were walking out of a restaurant wearing that silk dress and the coat.”

“So you did see pap pictures?” you ask chuckling, you didn’t mean it entirely, but you find it funny that he actually saw pictures of you.

“You know, it’s been hard to avoid you online, especially because I keep liking all your posts so my phone thinks I’m interested in you. Which is true, and I’m not complaining about the content I’ve been seeing about you lately,” he admits chuckling and your eyes wander down to his ring clad fingers on the wheel. Your thoughts take you back to when they were touching you at places you haven’t been touched in a while. How they felt inside you and how desperate he could make you with just his hands.

You force yourself to look away from his hands and focus on the present time before your arousal becomes way too evident.

“Sorry I’m everywhere,” you smirk at him, enjoying the situation maybe a little too much.

“Don’t be,” he chuckles, glancing in your way for a moment, his green eyes meeting your gaze. “I don’t mind it,” he adds and those damn butterflies as quick to act up again in your stomach.

You don’t try to get him to tell where you are headed, wanting it to be a surprise yourself, so you just stare out at the night city as it runs past you, still quite a lot of people walking on the streets even though it’s now nearing eleven.

What you know is that you’re still in Manhattan and it seems like you won’t leave it either. Harry navigates his way through the city easily, he is not even using GPS, something you could never do. No matter how long you’ve been living here, you’ll always get lost in this jungle some call New York City. About fifteen minutes after leaving your complex, Harry parks the car down in a spot he found along the road, and looking out the window you’re trying to figure out where you are, but it doesn’t ring a bell. Seems just like a usual part of the Upper West Side, so now he has you curious about his plans.

“Where did you bring me, Mr. Styles?” you ask him as the two of you meet on the sidewalk and he glances at your with a sly smirk.

“Since you gave me such a short notice about our date, I thought I would show you one of my favorite places in the city and I hope you haven’t it.” “Well, I can assure you I don’t know it, because I have no idea what could be here,” you admit.

Harry nods at you to follow him and you walk side by side until the next corner.

“I think you already know that I’m English,” he starts off, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, it’s pretty evident,” you nod.

“So, in the past decade I haven’t spent as much time in the UK as I wanted, and a few years ago I discovered a little piece of my home in the city.”

Trying to figure out what he meant by that you don’t even realize where you just took a turn to. Harry stops and you snap out of your thoughts, looking up and seeing a charming little street ahead you, looking totally out of place in the city’s fashion. The townhouses all the way down look like they’ve been placed here straight from England, the Tudor style complex is a refreshing change in the fast paced, busy streets of Manhattan.

You can’t help but gasp at the sight in front of you, taking in every tiny detail with your eager eyes as the feeling of being in a fairytale takes over your mind. If only it weren’t for the busy noises of the streets around the micro-neighborhood, you would completely believe that you’ve been magically teleported to England.

“It’s called the Pomander Walk. Always makes me feel like I’m home away from home whenever I miss my family and my hometown.”

Harry starts walking down the narrow pavement that runs between the houses, lined with quite some greenery, something you noticed right away. There are just so many plants and flowers down the street, it’s pretty clear the residents keep them in good care.

You catch up with Harry, eyes still taking in the pleasant contrast Pomander Walk has to offer for any visitors.

“I feel like we are invaders,” you tell him. It looks so secluded, makes you feel like you weren’t even supposed to be here.

“Don’t worry, it’s totally public. The people who live here are pretty nice too. Love it when someone comes around.”

“How did you find this place?”

“A friend told me about it and just came to see it for myself one day,” he tells you as the two of you slowly make your way down the street, slow enough so you could see everything. “There are 61 units and they were built in 1921 by Thomas J. Healy. He originally wanted to build a hotel here, but didn’t have the money to just yet, so he built these instead to make some cash for the hotel. He never got to do that though, died a few years later, so Pomander Walk stayed.” You listen to him, soaking in every word that leaves his lips, finding his oddly specific knowledge about this place quite exciting and… kinda hot. You could listen to him talk about historical facts for days without getting bored.

“The whole complex was renovated in 2009, they restored a bunch of architectural details that lost through the years.”

“Looks fantastic. I wonder what they look like on the inside,” you muse, your eyes wandering over the colorfully painted old school window blinds on most of the townhouses.

Walking down the pavement you realize there’s not a single soul around here, something you don’t get to experience too often in the city.

“It’s not too well-known, right? I don’t see any tourists and all that.”

Harry shakes his head, eyes ahead of him as he hides his hands in his pockets.

“No, ‘s quite hidden, not often listed in sights to be seen in the city. That’s why I like to come here so much.”

“Easy to stay unnoticed,” you add with a smile as your eyes meet his gaze and he nods, returning the smile.

You walk back and forth on the street at least five times, just talking and sharing and laughing, finally falling out of the misery of your everydays. He still amazes you with how good of a company he is, with his broad view of life and many experiences, you can truly connect with him on a level you haven’t been able to reach with anyone in a long time.

It’s way over midnight when you head back to his car, holding hands that happened at a point earlier, but you can’t tell who reached for who. It was kind of mutual, but now you didn’t want to let go of him… ever. You let your fingers play with his S ring on his pinky while he keeps running his thumb over the back of your hand whenever he has the chance. It’s a little disappointing when you have to let go of each other when you climb back into his car and head back home.

“I know this date wasn’t much, but I hope you liked it,” he smiles at you shyly before his eyes snap back at the road ahead of him.

“Shut up, this was literally the best date I’ve had,” you tell him making him chuckle. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

“Now it’s your secret place too. Maybe we’ll run into each other here one day.”

“I’ll definitely come back,” you admit smirking.

The city lights pass by you faster than you want them to, and you arrive to your complex way too early. Well, not according to the time, because it’s way past half past midnight now, but you just don’t want the night to end. However, you know Harry would not come up if you asked. He is way too big of a gentleman and he wouldn’t want to make you miss your appointment in the morning, but you are definitely collecting that kiss he promised a month or so ago.

“Walk me up, will you?” you ask him softly when he parks down in front of your building. He nods and follows you inside without a second thought.

You both know it’s about to happen, the air thickens between you two in the elevator and neither of you can hold back the small smiles on your lips. Harry walks next to you until you reach your front door and you turn to face him, his green eyes already examining your every move.

“I’m happy we finally got to do this,” you tell him, feeling a blush warming your cheeks from the way he looks at you now.

“I’m glad you called. Was starting to think we would never meet again,” he chuckles making you laugh as well. It really did feel like the universe was plotting against you, but you bet it didn’t expect your sudden move tonight.

There’s a longer pause where neither of you knows what to say or do next and your patience is running low, especially when you see him run his tongue over his pink lips. You just can’t wait any longer to taste them.

“Harry,” you breathe out, the frustration and desire at an all-time high now in your system. Never in your life did it take this long for you to get to a kiss with a guy you were clearly interested in and who returned the feeling as well.

“Yeah?”

“Swear to my lost Emmy Award if you don’t kiss me right now I’ll—“

You don’t get to finish, you don’t even know what you’d have said, but it’s all forgotten when Harry kisses you hard, hands cupping your jaw on both sides, angling your head to grant him the best access to your lips. You return the kiss without a second thought, hungrily tugging and pulling on his lips, your tongues meeting in the middle and fuck! He really knows how to make your toes curl with just a kiss. You grab a fistful of his t-shirt at his stomach, pulling him close and the cold touch of his rings on your skin makes you shudder. Everything about him makes your legs turn into jelly and you are willingly offering yourself to him without a doubt.

He pushes you against your front door, one of his hands wanders down to your waist and he gives it a gentle squeeze that makes you open your mouth more for him. You are a mess and so is he. You have no idea how long you make out, but when you eventually pull back, your chest is heaving and your lips feel swollen. Harry pecks your lips two more times before forcing himself to let go of you.

“Good night, Y/N,” he murmurs in a low voice as he starts to back towards the elevator.

“Good night, Harry,” you say a little out of breath. He smirks at you one last time before walking into the elevator and the doors close, officially ending your first date.

 PREVIOUS PART

NEXT PART

[hinatas-sunshine]

“Flower Shop”

Oikawa, Kuroo, Akaashi

Synopsis: Pretty Boy meets flower shop girl.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

Requests: Open

Oikawa:

• As usual, the sun hit the flowers just right. The bright colors of green and splashes of red, white, pink, purple, etc..

• You slightly mumbled a curse, a little angry at your mom for making you work at this time

• Everyday, at this specific time, a bunch of girls would come in an buy flowers, shoving and attacking each other talking about a certain boy

“Move! He likes these! He told me so!”

“Like THE tooru oikawa would even talk to you!”

• You sighed and slammed your head on the counter - please please please give me a concussion so I don’t have to deal with these girls

• As you rang up all the flowers and made bouquets as quickly as possible you sighed in relief to see they were all gone

• Unbeknownst to you a tall figure walked into the store, dark hood, hat and sunglasses

• Yoh continued to clean the store from all the messy girls ruining it due to their flower picking

“Did those girls do this?”

• You jumped, elbowing the person in the chest causing them to fly back

• Looking down you see a boy, light brown hair and brown eyes to match, groaning on the floor

“What are you? Some strong monster!?”

“What are you? A perv!?”

• He chuckled as you helped him up, taking note of how soft your hands were under his rough ones

“You never answered my question.”

“Yes, they come in all the time talking about this Oikawa boy, ruining the store and then leaving. Give me a break! He can’t be that special.”

• As you threw your arms around dramatically he watched amused

“And here I thought I was special.”

• You eyes widened in shock looking sheepishly at, who you concluded, IS Oikawa.

“Oh...I’m sorry...”

• He shook his head laughing

“Don’t worry about it, I’m here to pick up flowers for my mom anyways.”

• You nodded, still feeling bad about ranting

“You can make anything you’d like. I don’t know anything about how to make this look good.”

• As you wrapped up some flowers, ribbon and everything you held it up for him to see.

“Beautiful.”

• Though as he said so, his eyes never left yours. Your soft features making him feel safe, him laughing lightly as you scrunched your nose at the baby’s-breath flower tickled it.

• You took his money, handing him the change to which he dumped some and extra in the jar

• You thanked him and went to clean up the mess from flower organization you had just done

“So what do you do with the flowers those girls give you everyday?”

“Well...”

• He squints to look at your name tag

“Y/n, cute name, my mom just places them around the house. Today is her birthday though, thought I’d bring her something bigger.”

• You smiled at him, and if he could’ve, he would’ve melted at the sight. Everything about you had made him weak to the knees.

• But that moment was over, and he wouldn’t see you again as he walked out of the shop.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

• You would never spend your off day at a volleyball game

• Your best friend though, complained how it was important

“Please y/n!”

“I’d rather not.”

“I’ll tell the whole school how you binge read killing-stalking because of sangwoo.”

• Now here you were sitting in the stands while you best friend shamelessly flirted with the guy next to her.

• She wanted your to third wheel Huh?

• You got up to go to the bathroom because you’d rather be there than around a flirting couple

• As you noticed a group of girls surrounded around someone you pushed through to continue your walk

“Excuse me! I gotta go this way!”

• You heard feet approaching, making you stop and turn around

• Automatically you noticed the brown hair and matching brown eyes making you smile

“We meet again.”

“I guess we do...”

• You noticed his uniform, to which you plucked a piece of lint off of, smiling at him

“Good Luck, Captain.”

• For once, Oikawa’s cocky nature wasn’t keeping up with him and he felt a blush creep up on his face

“Thank you.”

“Oi! Shittykawa! Let’s go and stop flirting!”

• Oikawa, startled and embarrassed laughed before waving at you and running off, you waving back and laughing softly

“Did you really have to do that in front of her?!”

“Not if you’d hurry your ass up.”

“Iwa-Chan that’s mean.”

“Didn’t ask.”

• As you sat down again next to your friend smiling down at your lap, she smirked

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. You flirt. My baby is growing up. I’m so proud I could cry and this whole time I though you were an antisocial little rat.”

• You glared at her while she patted your head, the game beginning

• Watching intensely, you cheered for Aoba Johsai, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the setter

• Finally bold enough, after scoring a point Oikawa pointed at you smiling

• As your friend screamed excitedly definitely about the scored point not about oikawa thats crazy she shook you like a madwoman

“He just pointed at you!”

“Stop glaring at my friend I’ll throat punch you guys!”

“Point at her again! You won’t!”

• Needless to say, he asked you out on a date after he won the match

Kuroo:

• Nothing about today was abnormal, you watered your moms plants and set out more flowers

• You placed some flowers on display and set at the cash register working on your homework for this week

• Ignoring the dinging bell, you still spoke up

“Welcome!”

• Flipping the page to your textbook you placed a floral bookmark in and closed it looking up to see a black haired boy standing there

“O-oh! Kuroo!”

“Y/n, hey. You told me to meet you here?”

• A blush crept onto your face just as slowly as the butterflies, it’s silly to even have a crush on Kuroo, he was the schools heartthrob.

• Ignoring the blush on your cheeks you nodded standing up and making your way over to the back

“I’m going on break, I have to study.”

“Oh I saw... study huh? I’m too young to have grandkids!”

• You yelped and your eyes grew wide

“No! No it’s not like that!”

• Your mom smiles shooing you out, while you tried to control your nerves at her words

• You noticed Kuroo’s own pink cheeks as you came back, oh god he heard her

“We can go to the outside area, I’ll fix us something to drink.”

• He nodded heading outside to the flower garden area with tables

• You walked back into where your mom was and screamed before shutting the door and taking your stuff and some drinks outside

“Thank you.”

• You nodded and looked at your textbook, great your teacher first pairs you up with your crush, then your mom tells you not to have grandkids with him, to top it all off he hear her

• After you two had worked on the details and found information for your project you began stretching

“We should take a break.”

• You nodded and stood up tucking hair behind your ear, he followed your actions and for the first time today Kuroo noticed how undeniably pretty you looked.

• The flowers surrounding you only made it so much harder on him, you dressed in all pastel. You looked like a goddess to him.

“Kuroo? You okay?”

• He looked to the side, your face dangerously close to his.

“U-uhm.”

• Neither of you moved a muscle, for the first time again Kuroo could see your eyes and the deep patterns that ran in them.

• And you, you could see everything in his eyes. Your heartbeat could be heard in your ears, he could probably hear it too.

• You both weren’t sure if it was your heartbeat or the others beating so loudly, but everything seemed still

• Like the flowers stopped moving in the wind, and your pages to your books stopped fluttering, the only thing on Kuroos mind was how beautiful you looked, looking up at him through your long lashes

• And the only thing on yours were how his eyes focused so intensely on yours, like he could read how you felt about him so easily

• If you hadn’t known any better, your faces inched closer, it felt like it wasn’t 2 minutes but 2 hours spent looking at each other

• As Kuroo’s phone went off signaling a call, he smiled at you breaking eye contact and apologizing

• After hanging up he packed his things, and swung his bag over his shoulder

“I gotta go, but we can continue our project later this week.”

“Of course.”

“Oh! Y/n?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll see you at my game tomorrow?”

• You fiddled with your hands, and nodded to which he smiled and walked out waving bye

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“You’re going, but if you don’t come back with a man on your arm you aren’t coming home until you have one.”

• You slightly winced at your moms joke, what a crazy woman. You never knew who the teenager was between you two.

• You sat at the back of the bleachers, hoping you went by unnoticed by everyone

“Maybe he didn’t want me to come... he could have invited other girls here... oh gosh.”

• Your mind made up every excuse in the book, you stood up and began walking towards the exit

“Leaving already? I couldn’t find you.”

• You froze looking back at Kuroo, who smiled at you as he approached

“I was just-“

“Overthinking? I noticed. You made that same face yesterday when you over thought the conclusion question.”

• You blushed and looked away making him laugh, gosh why was his laugh even so perfect

• Kuroo placed an arm around you, leading you back to the bleachers. You were about to speak when he was yanked away

“Gosh Kuroo, you’re finally all lovesick and it makes you forget the game is about to start?”

• Lovesick? You watched Yaku pull him away and apologize to which you signaled to him it was alright

• You sat back in the bleachers, this time more in the front and enjoyed the game

• As it ended and you waited for Kuroo, you fiddled with your fingers.

• Happily, Kuroo walked over to you and stopped, wether it be the happiness of winning the game or just some adrenaline he spoke:

“I really have the urge to kiss you right now. I have since yesterday.”

• Without another word you stood on your tippy toes and placed a soft kiss on his lips, he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around your waist pulling you closer

“I knew it! Yamamoto you owe me 20 bucks.”

“Gosh dang it Kuroo! Can’t you keep it in your pants like usual!”

• You both laughed and pulled away looking at the team while Yamamoto and Yaku argued, and Lev and Inuoka’s eyes were being covered, Kenma simply staring at his game

“Bye the way Kuroo, my mom wont let me come home unless you come with me.”

“Huh?”

“She said if I don’t come back with a man on my arm, I can’t come home.”

“That’s bold coming from someone who said no grandkids.”

• Your face burned with Embarrassment as he laughed even louder

“Too bad y/n, Kuroo’s not a man. Looks like you can’t go home.”

“Shut up Kenma.”

Akaashi:

• It was a usual Sunday morning, you moved silently through the floral café. The bright sun shone through and illuminated the whole store.

• You made the usual coffee, and heard the door ding right when you finished

• You placed the coffee on the counter, and cash made its way to replace the counter, and a tip going in the jar

• And that’s your Sunday morning regular, you stay at the stool and prepared your own coffee.

•Sunday mornings were usually slow, everyone sleeping in on their day off.

• As you drank your own coffee, you read the book in your hand, sitting at the usual stool behind the counter

• You heard nervous tapping, as you looked up your noticed the black haired boy look away and his foot tapping on the floor immediately stop.

• You picked up your things and walked over to his booth, sitting with him

“Do you mind some company?”

“No, not at all.”

• You nodded and opened your book back up to pick up where you left off

“Is that book good?”

• Your eyes lit up and you nodded handing it to him so he could look at it and read the back.

“Wow...”

“I could lend it to you, it’s my favorite.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

• He handed you his book

“Then a trade, y/n.”

• You picked up his book and skimmed through it.

“A trade, Akaashi.”

• He nodded smiling at you, after 3 months of coming to the same coffee shop, the routine of small talk built up to him trading a book

• As the bell dinged, he watched you apologized, to which he shook his head signaling an okay, and watched you walk away.

• Everything about this Sunday morning light seemed to have you looking more angelic than normal to him.

• You occasionally shot him a smile and went on making on coffee orders, only to pick up his book to continue reading

• But you knew, this was only a Sunday thing. The moment he went back to being the cute setter boy at school, you two would walk past each other wordlessly.

• Akaashi stood up, about time he usually leaves and approached the counter purchasing a few white flowers.

“And who’s the lucky person these are for?”

“For you.”

• You blushed holding them to your chest

“You work with flowers and coffee all day, I doubt you ever get any of the flowers.”

• He smiled before walking out of the store leaving you speechless

“What a MAN!”

• You turn to your boss who smirked leaning against the doorway

“If you don’t get at him, you are officially a psycho.”

“No I’m not!”

“As your boss I say you look cuter tomorrow and catch his attention.”

• You huff and nodded as they shooed you out of the store.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

• You walked into school, and if you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn everyone’s eyes were on you

• And who could blame them, your usual ponytail was down, your cheeks rosier and your lips glimmering in the light of the hallway at school

• You walked down the hallway opening your book, well Akaashi’s, and read through it.

• You looked up to see Akaashi talking to a very hyper Bokuto

• He looked at you, eyes widening, but he didn’t stop walking nor looking at you.

• You continued walking, disappointed that he didn’t talk to you, but went on.

• Hearing a crash you looked back:

“Akaashi!!! What were you doing?!”

• You saw Akaashi rubbing his head on the ground and Bokuto standing over him

• You picked up Akaashi’s things while Bokuto helped him up

“Oh! You’re y/n!”

• You looked at Bokuto who smiled at you, you stood up nodding

“You’re Bokuto.”

• He nodded eagerly while looking at Akaashi and smirking

“Well I got to get to class. You know, third year things.”

“Bokuto what are you talking about? You never willingly go to cl-“

• Without letting Akaashi speak another word he sprinted down the hall leaving you two alone

“Here’s your things.”

“Oh! Yeah thanks!”

• You nodded and handed him his things, while you two began walking to class together

“This is the first time we’ve talked in school.”

“Yeah, despite seeing each other every Sunday we never speak outside of the shop.”

• He nods before you guys continued with a comfortable silence

“How’s the book?”

“Oh amazing!”

• As you rambled on about the book Akaashi admired the way you excitedly spoke about it, he couldn’t help but smile at you

• You stopped speaking and smiled at him fiddling with the end of your school skirt/pants

“I want to go out with you. Somewhere besides the shop and school.”

• You smiled and leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek

“I’d like that.”

• He watched as you walked to your own class, excited about what the future held with your date

“Akaashi!”

“Bokuto-San? I thought you went to class?!”

“Psh, I had to do my job as a ninja and spy on you and y/n. She’s cute huh?”

• Akaashi looked away blushing

“Yeah..”

“Ugh to be young and in love.”

“You’re not much older than me?”

“Silence.”

• Bokuto definitely spied on your date too with Konoha, only for you to catch them and Akaashi get embarrassed

“I can’t with you two.”

“WE can’t with YOU, you haven’t even kissed her!”

“You’re lucky I stopped him from singing kiss the girl from the litte mermaid.”

“I definitely would’ve wanted to be kissed if you two sang that for Akaashi and I.”

• This had Akaashi blushing at your words and pulling you along before the friendship only bloomed more.

Tags:

[deniigi]

@pomegranate-belle and @puffins-studio have kindly convinced me to share with you all this little bit.

It’s of Electric Sheep but if Android Matt had a Mike who’s been looking for him since they were separated as youths (right before Matt started to become an android)

Title: Seventeen years

Summary: bounty hunter Mike has been taking jobs in nyc, searching for his lost twin. A chance encounter with a blonde woman who steals his heart helps him find him.

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

Seventeen years, ten months, 18 days.

Mike had lived out of the city longer than in it. Rochester was as close as he’d gotten in foster care, but work had dragged him through occasionally, and frankly he was grateful for it.

He’d told himself seventeen years ago that he’d get back.

So here he was, reflecting on life outside the cell of a guy screaming bloody murder.

Dude was a bot-trafficker.

The shit made some serious dough, Mike had seen it himself. But you know what else made some serious dough? Bounty hunting. I.e. Catching the people who got pissed off about other people makin’ some serious dough.

These days, they were all bot-traffickers. Mike could barely remember a time when he was chasing jewel thieves and counterfeiters down alleys anymore. It was all bot-this and bot-that—which, to be fair, was kind of the same thing as a jewel thief.

Property was where the real money was at. And bots? Hoo boy, the best kind could cost a penthouse.

Mike thought it was good for them that they had no idea how much they were worth. He found it kinda sweet if he was honest. This screamin’ bot dude’s collection of androids were all tucked up against each other in the other room, performing ‘maintenance’ on each other like a pile of cats. They were community-minded, bless ‘em. It made Mike smile a little bit.

Of course, so did the paycheck.

Yeah, the paycheck helped, too.

 --

 He got a job for the city. He took it without asking too many questions.

It didn’t matter how much city jobs paid, Mike always went ready for a double-shift there.

The last time he’d seen Matt had been when their social workers had untangled their hands at St. Agnes. Both of them had been wailing like toddlers, like they had been in front of Dad’s casket.

Up until that point, everyone had assured them that they’d be kept together—that no one was going to try to separate them. They were twins. People would understand that you couldn’t just take the one and leave the other. They had an unbreakable and psychic bond, clearly.

But then one day the social worker hadn’t answered Matt’s question when he’d asked about it again, seeking reassurance.

Mike’s stomach had dropped then. And sure enough, the next thing they knew, people were throwing around words like ‘specialty care’ and ‘high-risk’ and ‘better in the long-run.’

Mike had gone to a foster home screaming and fighting in the back of a sedan. Matty stayed behind, allegedly to be placed in some kind of group home with more ‘supportive’ care.

That was seventeen years ago--almost eighteen years ago.

Mike only knew what Matt looked like these days because he shaved every morning in the bathroom mirror. But, he told himself, not for much longer.

He hadn’t become a bounty hunter for the looks. He’d done it for the money and the job experience. Could he track a criminal? Hell yeah. He’d been one. He knew how they thought. More importantly: could he track a brother?

He could, actually. He was a Murdock; he knew how they thought.

 --

 The job in the city was whatever. Took half an hour and a big smile to corner the gal like a rat. She went to the highest bidder; Mike went back out on the prowl.

Chances were that Matt would be drawn to Hell’s Kitchen. And chances were that he would be searching for Mike as Mike was for him. He was an idealist like that. Like Mike.

Awwww. Old habits die hard.

 --

 Hell’s Kitchen had changed over the years, but it still felt like home when Mike put a foot in the boundaries. He knew these stoops and all these torn posters. He knew that skyline and that raggedy flag pole.

The names on the businesses changed—some got new lights, some got new windows, but all in all, the feel was still there.

 --

 He set out to find Matt in the old, old haunts. Stopped by the church. The old kids’ home. They still hadn’t seen him, no, Mike. Sorry, my son.

He took a waltz down memory lane by the docks.

He found the greasiest looking coffee shop he could and sat at a sticky table, people-watching through the huge half-wall windows for about an hour.

Nothin’ yet.

His coffee was cold when he left.

  --

He ran into a girl at a bar that night under green and red neon lights. They danced close. She told him he reminded her of someone she knew, and Mike thought that that was just a lovely coincidence, sugar, wasn’t it?

He invited her to his hotel room. She accepted.

He woke up to waves of amber grain strewn across this pillow, sticking to his lips, and the smell of something powdery and floral in the endless line of this lady’s neck.

God, she was like a swan. Mike ought to buy her breakfast.

He did because he was a gentleman. He left to go grab a sandwich from the bodega outside but came back to find the bed and the room empty. There was a little note on the pad next to the bed that said ‘thanks, handsome’ with a smile face next to it and a number.

He eased himself down on to the bed and stuffed a sandwich in his mouth to grin around.

  --

Her name was Karen.

It wasn’t their last night. Mike saw her when she was in the city and they had a well-worn routine after a few months.

Every time, a new bar, a new club, a new drink. But the same dance and then the same chase and collapse.

She told him nothing about herself, and he loved that about her. She passed fingers through his hair. She trailed them across his jaw, bristly stubble or no.

And then the next morning, she was gone, and Mike was sighin’ like a blue bird in spring.

 --

 Valentine’s Day found Mike in the city. He didn’t delude himself with thinking that Karen was available—he wasn’t that full of it.

But he did think that even a lady as lovely and possibly taken as Karen deserved a bouquet of flowers from a ‘friend.’ So he took a meander down to a wholesaler and chatted up one of the makers until a collection of spring tulips graced by baby’s breath found their way into his hands.

Karen, he suspected, worked somewhere in an office. Her ever-present, practical pencil skirt said so, and the way that she frequented Josie’s told him that she lived in the area around 9th and 52nd.

It wasn’t hard to snoop. It wasn’t hard to trawl through the local business websites in that area, peeking at staff pages until low and behold, the golden grail herself appeared smiling on try number 7.

He smiled back at her photo and went back to get the name of the place and the address only to pause in his tracks.

Nelson & Murdock.

Karen worked at a law firm called Nelson & Murdock.

Huh.

Well. Good for that Murdock. Mike hoped he was out when he brought these flowers in.

 --

 The firm was dinky and crammed up two flights of stairs across from an orthodontist’s office. Mike pitied Karen for having to spend her days watching droves of traumatized middle schoolers leave that place with wires crammed in their faces. The flowers even looked like they were wilting in the hallway.

Mike gave them a pep talk on his way to the door.

He knocked but no one answered, so he turned the knob and a handful of people where sat looking nervous in the waiting area. The front desk was empty. Abandoned.

Oh, Karen.

Ever at work like you are at play.

Mike made his way over the desk and caught sight of a familiar fluffy little ball on a keychain at the edge of the desk.

It was adorable.

He found a scrap of paper by the phone, reached over and snagged it and a pen to leave a little love note when he felt a tug at his elbow.

He forced down the irritation and turned back with a smile. An older lady with huge bifocals squinted at him.

“Mr. Murdock,” she said. “I’ve got to go move my car. Don’t you give up my place, you hear?”

Mike forced himself to hold his smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy, madam.”

Murdock must have looked smooth as hell for Mike to have been mistaken for him.

The lady squinted left, right, and center, then scoffed and pinched his arm.

“Cheeky boy,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

She left.

Mike’s brain short-circuited for another few seconds before declaring that whole situation unresolvable, bizarre, and emphatically not his problem. Sorry Nana. Go to the back of the line like everyone else.

He went back to writing his card.

“Matt?”

He didn’t mean to look up. It was a reflex, man. It came with the twin-territory, and this time it brought a moment of panic as Karen’s brow dropped stormily and her fists found her hips.

“Where the hell have you been? We’ve been calling you all morning?” she demanded.

Mike’s palms started sweating.

Did Karen? Not? Recognize him?

Had he misread this whole love affair? Or maybe it was the daylight that was confusing her?

It had to be the daylight, right?

“Matt,” Karen said, irate as could be in that pretty blue and white top. “Don’t just stand there. Say something.”

Ahahahahahaha.

Too close. Too much.

“MATT.”

Out we go, back to the hovel from which we came.

  ---

He breathed out hard in the street below and turned back to look up at the window of Nelson & Murdock. It was flung open and he didn’t give Karen the opportunity to get her nose out of it. He hurried off into the crowd, ducking and squirming until he was sure that he was good and gone from sight.

Then he found an alley to clutch at his heart in.

It had been years since someone had called him Matt. Sometimes he took the name on as a false one, when working for especially shitty shit-heads. But Karen??

Mike was positive he’d introduced himself as Mike. ‘Michael’ but more like Costello than Abbott, he’d said. Karen had laughed.

What the fuck, man? What the fuck?

He looked at the flowers in his hand.

A waste.

Hhhng. Alright, well. There was for sure to be someone needing cheering up at a bar somewhere. Might as well spare them for the Singles Awareness Gigs sure to be happening soon.

  ---

He ended up at Josie’s because he always ended up at Josie’s, but this time with barely anyone in the place at 3pm on Valentine’s Day, she actually noticed him and gave him an eyebrow. He chose to ignore it in order to wallow in self-pity and raised his glass to his lips.

It didn’t make it.

He stared in stunned silence at the hand suddenly covering his glass.

“I don’t think that’s a wise idea, pal,” Josie said.

Mike gaped at her in shock.

“I? Paid for this?” he said.

There was a long moment of awkward silence.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry,” Josie said. “My bad. I thought you were someone else.”

Someone else?

Someone—

WAIT.

“Someone else? Does someone who looks like me come here?” Mike blurted out with zero grace before he could stop himself. “Does he—do you know his name? Is he—does he—”

Josie frowned hard at him.

“You’re not Matt,” she said after a long moment. “I always thought you were Matt.”

Matt!!

Matty!! MATT. You little shit. You perfect, darling, little shit. Out here, comin’ to Josie’s like a chump—possible alcoholic Matt!

Okay, wait, roll that one back—one problem at a time.

“He’s my brother. I’ve been looking for him for eighteen years, we were separated in foster care—do you know where he lives?” Mike asked with no filter to be seen for miles.

Was it professional of him?

No.

But were hugs at airports ever professional? Exactly. Get off his case.

He beamed wide at Josie, but her face did not reciprocate the gesture. Actually, it seemed to be doing the opposite and that made this little squirming feeling start up in Mike’s gut.

“Christ,” Josie said. “I’m so sorry, man.”

Wh-what?

“You’re gonna need a double.”

What did that mean?

“Take this.”

No. No, what did that mean?

“Take the shot, kid. Trust me. You’re gonna need it.”

  ---

No.

Just.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Josie rubbed her fingernails against her cheek and sighed.

“His owner brings him along,” she said. “Lets him work at their law firm with him—he’s made the papers, sure, but you know. It’s all kind of colored by the fact that he can’t really do shit without permission.”

Mike rolled the tumbler in his hand around.

Nelson, eh? So called ‘owner’ of the android called Matthew Michael Murdock.

Ahahahaha.

Get ready to die, motherfucker.

“But he tries to drink—Matt does,” Mike felt himself say.

Josie didn’t want to look at him.

“Sometimes, it’s like he forgets he’s a droid,” she said. “Usually, he’s got someone with him to keep him out of trouble.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Josie said. “It’s a load of bull.”

FUCK.

He set the tumbler down.

“How much do I owe you?” he asked.

“It’s on the house,” Josie said. “Best of luck.”

Yeah.

Thanks.

  ---

Matty was—

Matty was—

Mike made it back to his hotel room before sinking to his knees by the bed. God had never heeded his prayers before, but things were different now.

Matty couldn’t pray for the both of them anymore. He was—He was--

Mike had to—

God, please.

Please. Give him back. What once was lost had to be found.

What once was lost, God.

Mike had lost him.

He’d lost him forever.

Give him back.

 ---

 He typed Matt’s name into the search engine on his phone and made it through one whole article before he was kneeling before a much harder, much more porcelain altar.

He tried again in the bathroom this time, sat on the floor with his back against the tub.

The bot that someone had made out of Matty looked so sweet. Like Mike, but softer in the cheeks. Younger. Forever 22 or something close to it.

He was still blind, despite all his other modifications and he was a little famous in the field of robotics. Not that the bot appeared to care. The articles claimed that the bot had recovered and retained memories prior to what they kept calling his ‘transition.’

What they meant was when he’d been transformed into a human weapon. An inhuman weapon.

Matty, I’m so sorry.

 ---

 There was only so much self-pity a man could wallow in before his ass started to fall asleep. But more than that, Mike was a Murdock. The tingling in his limbs was lost to the ever-increasing roar of fire in his ears.

That bastard. That bastard lawyer.

Taking Matt after everything he’d been through and turning him into some prop to be used as a showpiece in a grand legal theatre.

Fuck no. Fuck that.

Mike wasn’t fucking this up twice.

 ---

 Nelson & Murdock was closed by the time Mike once again found himself outside its doors. He stared at the sign’s heavy black letters and gave in to the devil raging, hot, underneath the skin of his chest.

He left the shattered doorglass on the ground as he made his way to the opposite stairwell.

 ---

 Karen.

  ---

She lived nearby 9th and 52nd. She was probably going home to her handsome hubby, who’d shower her in chocolate and wine and flowers. But on the way, she’d make a stop. She was a working gal. She wouldn’t have had time to pick up a gift in return before her shift started.

Mike found her at Walgreens, talking on the phone to someone while she petted every teddy bear on the rack in front of her.

He didn’t feel sorry.

She didn’t scream when his hand found her face. He didn’t give her the chance.

  ---

He ditched the hat in the back storeroom of Walgreens and took Karen right through to the loading dock. She thrashed hard.

Mike could barely feel the movement. He was on the lookout for eyes.

An elbow found his ribs and a foot his toes before he got them far enough from view that he could let her go to readjust his grip, and when he did, he got her against a wall, panting.

This lady was tough. But in a flash, she mouth dropped open and her wrists went limp in his grip.

“Mike?” she asked after a second. “Is that you? What are you doing here? Why are you—”

“Where. Is. My brother?” Mike cut her off.

Karen recoiled until her head hit the bricks behind her.

“Your—”

“My brother Matthew,” Mike snapped.

The rush of traffic settled into the silence.

“Oh my god,” Karen whispered. “He’s your brother?”

“Yes. He is, as a matter of fact, and whatever you think you’re doing to him, I will do to you and that fucking lawyer ten times worse,” Mike said. “So you’re going to help me or I’m going to—”

“I knew I knew you.”

He felt himself go stiff.

“Matt talks like you,” Karen said softly. “Just like you.”

Wh—he did?

Karen’s fingers brushed the tops of Mike’s hands. They were cold.

“Mike,” she whispered, sounding for all the world like she was on the verge of tears, “He’s going to be so happy to see you.”

Wh—she’d—she’d take him to Matt?

“Of course,” Karen said. “He’s one of my best friends.”

They were friends? How were they friends? Was this a sick joke?

“No. It’s not. I met him years ago it’s just—I didn’t realize you were—okay, there’s just one problem,” Karen said.

 ---

 Uh?

“Sensory input! Greater than! Processing—PROCESSING—processing—”

“Matty,” Franklin Nelson said with both of his hands out in front of him. “I see that we are very excited.”

“SENSORY INPUT—”

“And I love your enthusiasm, and I know you love your enthusiasm,” Nelson continued. “But if you don’t settle down the tiniest fraction of an inch, you’re going to blow a fuse and—”

“SEN—sen-S-S-SEN—”

Uh?

“This is excited,” Karen explained while Nelson wrestled Matt into sitting for the second time since Mike had arrived at the door.

This was excited?

“He’s normally much more in tune with himself,” Karen said. “But I think you’ve jumpstarted some shit that even his additional processing power isn’t enough for.”

Additional what now?

“It’s a long story,” Karen said over the saddest sound that Mike had ever heard.

They both looked over to where Nelson had successfully gotten Matt back to sitting and was now coaching him through whatever the bot-equivalent of breathing exercises were.

“How long?” Mike asked.

Karen’s blue eyes pitied him.

 ---

 Okay, okay, okay. So. Nelson? Not a threat. Definitely a boon.

Matty?

Hng.

Heavy.

“I’ve literally never seen him this excited,” Nelson said. “And I’ve known him for seven years.”

No shit?

“No shit, we met at Columbia,” Nelson sighed. “I’m sorry about this.”

It was fine. Mike deserved this. Probably.

Jesus, what the fuck had they replaced Matt’s muscle’s with? How was he this warm and this heavy and not human all at the same time.

He’d seemed to have decided that Mike needed a full-body hug and while the first ten seconds had been cry-worthy, the last minute or so was getting a little suffocating.

“Matt, let him go,” Nelson pleaded. “He can’t breathe, bud. He’s gotta breathe, he’s not like you—”

“Subject: Mike. Michael Murdock,” Matt said brightly, scrambling off Mike out of no-fucking-where and getting way too far into Nelson’s face.

“Mike, yeah, you said,” Nelson said.

“Mike. Born October 21—”

“I get it. He’s your twin.”

“—at Metropolitan General Hospital at 11:32pm—”

“Matt,  you’re info-dumping friend, we don’t need this. We believe you. Don’t give me his social. Don’t—”

“—Social Security number 6—”

“MATT. End request. End search term. Exit page.”

Uh?

“He did this with the DA last week when he got too riled up,” Karen said sympathetically. “We have no clue where he finds it or better yet, where he even stores it.”

“—my brother, FOGGY.”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ see it, man. It’s before mine very own eyes. Y’all are identical. It’s weird.”

“I missed him.”

“Tell that to him then. Stop touching me, ew. No. Go douse him with your weird fuckin’ eye fluid—atta boy, good job—NO. NO CLIMBING.”

Mike…was not prepared for the care and keeping of Bot-Matt. He had to admit that now. All those plans of snatching Matt out of the hands of these evil, evil people were breaking up into little fragments of puzzle pieces and he’d never felt more like shit because god.

He was supposed to look after his brother, wasn’t he?

Wasn’t he?

“I’m so sorry about this,” Franklin Nelson said with Matt leaning almost completely out of his grip and making that horrible sad noise again. “But I think I’m gonna need to cool him down a bit.”

 ---

 Mike couldn’t stop rubbing at his face.

Matt was sprawled out across Nelson’s bed like he was sleeping in the sunlight. The wires plugged into the back of his neck slipped off the edge of the bed and led all the way to a laptop that was just about sweating with how hard it was working.

From the side, it looked like he was human. Absolutely, unequivocally human.

Younger than Mike now, though. Permanently halted at 24 years old. No wonder Karen hadn’t recognized Mike early on. Matty’s jaw was still slim where Mike’s had hardened square like Dad’s. The only facial hair he had was in his eyebrows and eyelashes—there was no reason to add stubble to a bot. It was just more maintenance. Just another aesthetic modification.

“I’m sorry, Mike.”

Mike turned to Nelson.

He didn’t look or talk like a single one of the bot traffickers than Mike had dragged in from the cold—and he’d done the full range of them, from the cackling madhatters to the cooing, babytalkers to the silent so-called geniuses. Nelson exhibited only exasperation.

The story that Karen told about his and her early encounters with Matt made it seem like Nelson honestly considered Matt to be human, like him. Like all of them.

“You helped him,” Mike said quietly.

“If I’d have known that he had you, then I would have helped him find you sooner,” Nelson said. “But I thought he was on his own. He never mentioned anyone else. I should have asked.”

No. No, that was—That was okay, somehow.

“We got separated a lifetime ago,” Mike said. “People thought that I’d be easier to adopt. And clearly he had other things going on.”

Nelson winced.

“That’s shit,” he said.

“And wrong,” Mike sighed. “I don’t even know what to do now. I can’t take care of him like this. I don’t know the first thing about droid maintenance or computers.”

Nelson considered him.

“Well, the good news is that you don’t have to—take care of him, I mean,” he said. “Matt takes care of himself. He’s actually really good at it when he’s not blowin’ his top about some damn thing. You’ll see when he wakes up. And on top of that, he’s already got a mechanic, so when something goes wrong that he can’t fix, we take him to Parker and he does the heavy lifting there.”

Mike swallowed.

“You guys really have it worked out,” he realized.

Nelson sighed.

“Like I said. I’ve known him for seven years. We’ve lived together ever since.”

Woah. Wait. What now?

Nelson turned exhausted eyes onto him.

“I co-signed for his loft, but he just comes and spends all his time here when he’s not out smashing faces. Claims my bed. Steals all the sun spots. Makes me only shit coffee in return.”

He—Matt—Matt had his own apartment? He could do that?

“Sure? Why not? He owns half the firm, too,” Nelson said. “I mean, they wouldn’t let me put it in his name, technically. So it’s through a wildly complicated, uh—let’s call it a ‘thing’ for simplicity’s sake. But yeah. If anything happens to me, full ownership goes to him. But as far as we’re concerned, it’s half and half. The only thing Matt can’t do is practice law on his own, so we have to double-team pretty much every case.”

Mike needed to sit down.

“Oh, for sure. Just not there. I’d recommend out of range, here. Sit here,” Nelson said.

 ---

 Matt woke up when Karen snuck around the bed to remove the wires from his neck. He scrambled up and fell right over the side of the bed onto Karen’s feet.

She swore. He groaned. Nelson pointedly did not come back into the room.

This time, though, when Matt got back up, Karen pulled him in the direction of Mike and took his wrist. She held out a hand for Mike.

Mike’s heart fluttered.

He gave it to her and Karen put his hand directly in Matt’s palm.

There was silence.

“Mikey,” Matt said after a long moment.

Mike’s eyes started burning.

“You came for me,” Matt said.

Mike couldn’t make his throat work. It took two goes to find his voice.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “I sure did.”

“You ain’t singin’, though,” Matt pointed out. “Why aren’t you singin’?”

Because he was cryin’, man. God, give a guy a break.

“Matty, what did they do to you?” he asked.

Matt made a strange sound as he mulled over the question. A kind of whirring noise.

“Made me into a droid, dumbass,” he said.

Mike laughed before he could stop himself.

“Can I have a non-lethal hug?” he asked.

Matt whirred.

“No promises,” he said.

 ----

[ms-maj]

For @theheavycrown​ on her birthday. Sarah, thank you for all the laughter, support and friendship and for being an all around awesome human being. xoxo

It’s not that he doesn’t like mornings, he does, it’s just that Jughead Jones has come to learn that few good things happen before nine a.m. Yet here he sits at seven, a fine layer of silt covering his beloved Honda, his leather jacket, his helmet (next time he’ll make sure the route he takes avoids as many of those dirt roads as humanly possible; he really wishes he’d stuffed his backpack in the saddlebag instead of wearing it on his back.) The goggles he’s pulled down rest under his chin as he slides his helmet off, his hair feeling heavy and hot in the already building humidity. The helmet clanks against the steel frame as it hangs from the handlebars, dust kicking off in a little cloud as it sways. 

He sighs, peeling the filthy eyewear off his head and wipes the lens across his dirty jeans before hanging them on the opposite handlebar. This is not his scene. Well, it’s not not his scene, Jughead is pretty well known as the patron saint of all things forgotten and bygone,  so the flea market isn’t too out of turn but taking time off his life to pursue nothing but leisure? Not so much. So when he heard tell of the best collection of antique cast iron this side of the Mississippi he knew he’d be remiss if his cross-country culinary trek didn’t at least find him some new pieces to add to his ever-growing collection. The one that personally threatened to take over another corner of his small house, and the one he’s building a culinary empire on. He exhales forcefully, lifting his coffee from the holder, thankful he opted for the tall, solid cupholder as it somehow managed to save his necessary caffeine from the horrors of the open country road. 

Finish below or on AO3

Sipping on his "coffee" he watches as the vendors turn into the old yet still operating drive-in, the name Sunset peeling off the ancient sign. This weekend’s fare, Jaws and Jurassic Park, piecemeal spelled out in crumbling letters on the old marquee. Truck after truck, some with trailers and others just loaded to the brim, turn in a steady stream and supposedly have been doing so for the last hour. There’s a strange excitement that simmers just under the surface, it’s as if he knows he’s going to find exactly what he wants today, maybe even if it’s not at all what he’s been looking for.

Jughead likes to think he’s lived. In his—some glorious and others very much not—thirty-four years on this earth he’s eaten, what he thinks, is the finest food on every continent. He’s trained under classic French chefs in Michelin starred restaurants and with street vendors from Thailand to Peru. His own restaurant, a quaint throwback bistro in the heart of upstate New York is the culmination of those years and years and years of hard work. His passions, he’s come to find, cannot be confined, nor defined, simply by the walls of a kitchen. They’re in the pages of his acclaimed cookbooks and the mystery series he’s been stringing together since high school that he was sure would never amount to anything. 

But it did, and here he is. The very definition of latchkey, Jughead Jones grew up the poor son of a couple of addicts and con artists. The ones he hasn’t seen since he got his high school diploma. The moment that piece of paper was in his hands, he loaded his rucksack onto his rusted out Kawasaki and never looked back. 

He’s lived in trailers and dorms, in cramped studios and lavish flats, and once, in the projection booth of a drive-in theater. Very much like the one he assumes is in the middle of this one. He sighs, leaning back against his bike, forgetting the heat from the muffler until it starts burning beneath the heavy denim of his jeans. 

“Shit,” he mumbles as he shifts uncomfortably away, dislodging his near burnt calf but manages to spill the bitter, gas-station coffee he’d been absently cradling down the front of his white t-shirt. The next expletive out of his mouth is not so quiet. “Fuck me!”

The cup drops to the ground as he wipes at the seeping stain barehanded. “I might have a tissue,” he hears. Instantly he stops the futile attempt to clean himself, looking up when the laughter reaches his ears. “Though I can’t imagine it would be much help.”

The corner of his lip pulls up despite this recent bout of bad luck. She’s in a bold, floral print sundress with the kind of soft hem that dances with the breeze as it blows across the nearly empty lot. The sunhat is floppy, almost too big over the cascade of soft waves that hit her shoulders, she smiles, warm and amused before she takes her lower lip between her teeth, eyes darting from his to the growing spot of wet fabric sticking to his chest.

“I would say I’m well prepared,” he gestures back toward his bike with its ample enclosed storage, and his dust-covered backpack draped over the rear seat. “But apparently I wasn’t thinking this morning. This is also my last clean shirt, so, really batting a thousand today.”

Pink tongue peeking between her teeth as she laughs her eyes narrow as her head dips to the side. “Hmm,” she runs that tongue over her lower lip, looking at him with hooded eyes before seemingly catching herself; clearing her throat she starts again. ”I just pulled my car out of storage, I might have something in the trunk if you want me to take a look?” She half turns to follow where she’s absentmindedly pointing, and he sees the very moment her left foot doesn’t seem to get the memo. If he waits another second she’ll be in the dirt and without even consciously thinking about it, his arms wrap around her waist and keep her from toppling.

She lets out a shaky breath, fingers digging into the leather that encases his bicep. “Sorry, I, uh,” her head darts from side to side before she rights herself and extricates herself from his grip. “I wish I could say I wasn’t normally this klutzy but that would be a lie.” She sweeps the dirt and imaginary wrinkles from her dress and adjusts the hat that now sits just askew on her head.

“Glad I could be of assistance,” he drawls, watching as pink colors her cheeks. “So, a shirt? Maybe?” 

Nodding, she turns (with a skosh more grace than before) and walks to the end of the makeshift aisle. “Right this way.”

 “You’re not trying to lure me behind an abandoned building so that you can murder me, right?” He thinks it sounds playful, flirtatious even, though both things are patently out of his wheelhouse, but he can’t help but wonder why this gorgeous woman even stopped and looked in his direction.

“Oh, no, see this building might be abandoned, but these grounds aren’t going to be for too much longer. And I have a feeling you might be a screamer.” 

Choking a little on his own spit, he slows, swallows, and drags his eyes back up to find hers looking back over her shoulder. She winks, then stops between the fins of some powder blue oddity Jughead has never seen the likes of before. 

“I don’t usually find myself at a loss for words but you seem to have found my weakness.”

“And what is that exactly?” She questions as he moves next to her, almost too close, he can feel her breath shuddering against his skin as she places an oddly shaped key into the opening on the trunk. 

“Klutzy green-eyed blondes,” he can tell he’s caught her off guard when she gasps as the latch lets go on the trunk lock. 

“Okay then,” she’s smiling back at him, that lip caught between her teeth again when he realizes he’s already mapping out their future and he doesn’t even know her name.

“Jughead. Jones.” he supplies, voice cracking like he’s all of sixteen again. He wasn’t nervous, not before this simple moment in which he provides his chosen name and she either laughs or…

Her dainty hand hangs between them. “Pleasure to meet you Jughead, I’m Betty Cooper."

His large, calloused hand engulfs hers, happy to find the spark he thought he felt before was very real, and much, much more than a spark.

Their clasped hands hang between them, neither too eager to drop. Betty finally pulls away with another one of those flustered head shakes, before she starts to rummage through the cavernous trunk. It’s fairly empty, save for whatever Betty is looking for, and it's clearly all the way in the back.

 “Okay, but really, you can’t tell me that you haven’t thought, you know hypothetically of course, about how many bodies you could actually fit in this trunk,” he’s taken a step back to get the full picture, which is mostly just Betty stretching the entirety of her gorgeous frame into the depths of the unknown to find him a shirt, but his writers’ mind can’t help but wonder.

She stops her scavenging and with a triumphant grunt, she’s righting herself, the strap of a black duffle bag between her fingers. “Aha! And honestly, who hasn’t seen an old car and thought about the sheer amount of fuckery one could get away with simply based on interior cargo space.”

He knows he’s staring, gaping really, but he can’t seem to help himself. Betty shrugs, unphased, and goes to open the bag. She rummages around for a few seconds then pulls out a Johnny Cash t-shirt. 

“I know it’s a little wrinkled but it doesn’t seem to smell,” she pulls the aforementioned garment from her face and hands it to him. 

“Even if it did it—anything is an improvement over,” he waves his hand over his sticky shirt and worries she can tell his heart straight-up skips a beat when she laughs. 

Jughead takes off his leather jacket, passes it wordlessly to Betty who tries to clean it as best she can with a small rag from her car. He slips his arms inside of his soiled shirt and pushes it up around his shoulders, sliding it off as he pulls on the clean one. When he looks back at Betty she looks a little perplexed.

“What?”

“Just wondering what prompted the middle-school locker room style shirt change. If my seeing you topless would’ve been too much for your delicate sensibilities than perhaps I’ve misjudged—”

“That is quite enough out of you,” he points a menacing finger in her direction but is laughed down. His glare breaks quickly and the smile that takes over almost hurts. Has he been that out of practice with even smiling that the muscles in his face don’t know what to do about it? It’s a definite possibility. It just seems to come so naturally around Betty that he doesn’t want to question, and subsequently, jinx it.  

“Oh yeah, and what are you gonna do about it?" Eyebrow raised, she leans closer, arm outstretched with his coat.

He reaches to grab it but he misses the jacket altogether and brushes his fingers against hers. "Sounds like you'd love to find out, " it's from who winks this time. Betty's grip falters and the leather falls into his hand. Words form on his tongue but before he can get them out a shrill ring cuts through the ambiance of the morning. 

The trunk is slammed close; the moment is gone. “Shit, it’s a client, and a big one so I have to take this. I, um, I’ll see you in there? Hopefully?” He knows the disappointment is etched on his face, but he tamps it down and nods in her direction. Her smile back is enthusiastic, she looks sanguine; before he turns around he hears, what he assumes, is a happy lilt as she greets whoever is on the line.

He stuffs the jacket and his soiled shirt into one of the saddlebags, slides on his trusty (and dusty) grey beanie, grabs a few canvas tote bags, and heads into the flea market. There’s a moment he thinks he hears her voice but when he turns he's met with the endless drone of tires as the lot begins to fill.

It seems silly—feels silly—to be missing someone after such a short time. Not only just since you’ve seen them but also because you’ve only exchanged a handful of words in the entire five minutes that you’ve known one another.

There’s a small line at the gate. As he waits to pay his admission, he runs a hand over the back of his neck and tugs at the edge of his hat, trying to keep this weird, swirly sensation inside instead of letting it bubble out lest he ends up skipping through the lanes. 

He lets out a mirthless laugh, the kind he finds usually echo throughout his empty home only this time it's met with the hustle and bustle of the early-bird crowd. There's no time to dwell, no reason to wait; just the time (and patience) to find himself that thirteen-inch Spider skillet, and maybe a new Dutch oven...or two.

Or, he remembers after he's grabbed new forty-fives for the jukebox, old carnival prints for Toni, a snake ashtray for Sweet Pea that he knows Val will hate but it's so ugly he can't help himself, that while he may be able to mail himself whatever he can't carry across the states...he still has to get it there in the first place.

It's why he talks himself out of the awful Rocky poster. It's not for him, of course, but rest assured it would be most appreciated by Archie and Reggie. Jughead can actually picture exactly where in their apartment where they'd hang it. Their housewarming present would have to wait until the next flea market.

He hasn't even made it to the small cluster of more upscale dealers before he's at the snack stand, walking away with a blue icee and cotton candy like the grown man he is. While enjoying his treats he's only half paying attention to the stalls and tables that line each of drive-in’s aisles, surely missing out on some choice vintage toys and housewares that he has no use (or room) for.

Mostly, his mind wanders as he weaves through the ever-growing throng. He’s been looking for a floppy sun hat but, unfortunately, many, many people seem to be concerned about the adverse effects of UV rays. Not that that in and of itself is not unfortunate, it’s just not helping him at the moment. If he couldn’t look down and see the physical evidence of their interaction, he’d believe he hallucinated the whole thing. The universe doesn’t just drop his idyllic dream girl into his path, well, it absolutely would allow him to see her once and then never again. But he doesn’t want that…

He wants to know what it feels like to have her legs wrapped around his waist, on the bike, in their bed. He wants to see her tangled in their bedsheets or sitting at the counter as he feeds her his latest culinary creation. Not that he’s ever been one to live inside the delusions, his upbringing has forced his ‘manifest your own destiny’ lifestyle to never rely on the dreams, just use them as touchstones for achieving said ruminations. But these, the daydreams are so vivid, so real that he almost walks right past the intended object of his affection.

And it’s only the melodious cant of saccharine condescension that brings him back to the moment. 

“I realize that I’m here later than we discussed, but that shouldn’t affect the price we agreed upon, right?”

Betty’s arms were crossed over her chest, head cocked to the side, the sunhat effectively obscuring her beautiful face, which by her tone, Jughead assumes is sporting a proper scowl. 

“It shouldn’t, no,” the vendor starts. He stands a good foot and a half taller than Betty, broad-chested and fully bearded, he runs a calloused hand over the gray whiskers. “It’s just that this is a highly collectible item—”

“Which you are being more than fairly compensated for! You acquired it for me, I don’t understand why you’re being so obstinate now.”

“C’mon Betty Boop, you know exactly why. You’re looking so pretty today, go on a date with me and I’ll throw in that Griswold trivet I’ve seen you eyeing up,” Jughead sees the man's hands come down on the table as he leans closer to Betty. He watches her body swell with a deep inhalation that releases as her hands hit the table to mimic his pose. 

“Not if you were the last man on Earth, Andrew. Just sell me the damn dutch oven and I’ll be on my merry little way.”

The vendor sucks air through his teeth so loudly it whistles. “Doesn’t sound like I’m getting anything out of this…”

Jughead is practically standing over Betty’s shoulder now, the tension and frustration rolling off her like waves. “Andrew, I swear to all the gods in existence, if you don’t take the agreed price and put my dutch oven in this fancy bag here I’m calling your Gran.”

Jughead isn’t sure he’s ever seen anyone deflate so quickly. The man grunts holds out his hand and in it, Betty presses a neat stack of cash. The large, lidded pot makes its way to the table and from his vantage point can tell it’s a Wapak and in pristine condition.

“Nice looking piece of cookware you got there,” he says loudly behind her. She startles straight, turns slowly, and greets him with the brightest smile he thinks he’s ever seen.

“Jughead!” Her arms are around his neck and face pressed against the planes of his chest before he can blink. She seems to realize herself and is out of his arms and standing in front of him within the second it takes to realize how much he misses her warmth.

“What, did you think you could get rid of me that easily? I still have your shirt,” his hands rest on her waist, he hasn’t dropped them, and she hasn’t moved further away so he’s going to assume it’s not unwelcome.

She hums.”Well, it looks much better on you than in did crumpled up in my trunk

“Everything okay here?”

“We’re just peachy, right Andrew?” Betty questions, turning away from him and out of his grasp. She grabs the bag he’s placed on the table and with a most unrefined grunt, hoists it over her shoulder.

“We’re good, Coop. Just try to be on time from now on, it’s not very,” he pauses. Jughead can feel the man’s eyes slide from Betty to him, looking him up and down with a displeased expression. “Professional.”

“Oh, Andrew. Green is not your color. If you weren’t the only person in the tri-state area who could get me this stuff then I would never give you my business, ever again. But since I clearly work for sadists who love forcing me to interact with you, we’re at an impasse,” she shifts the bag on her shoulder and continues. “However, you make any more assumptions about my professionalism or personal life, then they’re going to have to find a new liaison.”

Andrew groans. “Don’t be like that, Betty! You know it all comes from the heart,” he crosses a hand to his and pats, and then he’s reaching under the table. “Here’s that trivet you had your eye on.”

Jughead moves up next to her and takes the trivet before it reaches her hand. “Is this a 1739? I’ve only been able to find pictures of these!”

He holds the metal piece reverently between his hands, long fingers tracing the intricate lace pattern, running over the feet, brushing against the logo that was stamped into the bottom some seventy years ago. “You know Griswold?” Betty’s tone is more than just surprised, there’s a slight breathlessness he can’t quite place as he places the trivet into her hands. 

“Oh, uh,” his head shakes a little with the chuckle. “Yeah, cast iron is pretty much why I’m even here. My best friend told me that if I was looking for something special, this would be the place to find it.” Suddenly feeling very shy, he rubs nervously at the back of his neck.

“Interesting,” Betty’s eyes narrow and fix on him, but it doesn’t make him feel as uncomfortable as he thought it would. Maybe it’s because an hour ago he was flirting like a lovesick teenager and he’s merely happy to be the object of her attention. He hears her bag hit the ground with a heavy thud. “If you’re looking for something in particular, this is your guy. I wasn’t being hyperbolic when I said he had the best. And if he doesn’t have it on-site, he’s usually able to procure it in a very short time.”

Andrew smiles at her praise and nods along. “Yeah, man, if you’re a friend of Betty’s you must be in the know. What tickles your fancy?”

Not really sure how to process, or address, any of what the man in front of him has just said, he locks eyes with Betty and lets out a sharp breath. She’s got the kind of smile that they used to write poetry about and he knows he’s done for. He’s smiling himself now and with a quick turn of his head he’s looking at Andrew again. “What do you know about Spiders?”

They’ve managed to walk the rest of the flea market, Betty picking up a few random items along with the (many) client requests. He learns she owns a small but successful antique shop in western Mass but she's rarely there. Mostly, she travels and he wonders what she's running from. She says it's to procure the things people want versus the things she thinks they would want to buy. It's not about the money, although it seems to pay well, she insists it's the history, the adventure, the joy it brings when she tracks down a vase-like what was on Grandma's table or an album that your grandfather taught you to dance to. She talks about antiques like he talks sous vide, the process, the art, how when it all comes together...life is magic.

"I can’t believe he’s going to find me a thirteen Spider! Do you have any idea how rare…oh, well, I suppose you do being an antique dealer and all that,” he bumps his shoulder (the one not carrying her stupidly heavy dutch oven) against hers, her head ducks in response but he can see the rosy hue on her cheeks. 

“If you’ve known each other for so long why all the shit for being late? And if I’m what made you late I apologize—”

“No, Jughead! Not even a little,” she grabs his shoulder and pulls him to stop beside her. “Andrew was just being a dick because that’s who he is as a person. Yes, I was late to meet him but that was because I was having a little car trouble this morning.”

“What, the marvel of modern engineering you’re tooling around in is finicky? Who’d have thunk?”  He holds out his (second) icee, offering Betty the last sip but she politely declines. He shrugs as best he can and finishes the cold red syrup in a quick gulp. The sun is blazing, scorching them from on high before he knows it. Jughead feels the sweat beading on his brow, threatening to drip down his face in the most unbecoming of ways. He's thankful they're heading back toward their respective vehicles. It's not that he wants this day to end, in fact, he's kind of hoping he can repeat it forever, but he really would like to get out of the sun. 

She smacks his arm playfully. “Don’t talk about Edie that way!”

“Edie? She’s even got an old ladies' name, Betts,” they finally reach said car and Jughead heaves the bags from his shoulder and drops them in the dirt.

Betty sighs as the lock clicks, trunk springing open. "She's an Edsel. You're not wrong about her being an old lady but trust me when it comes to classic cars Edsels are…"

Jughead scoffs. "I might have a proclivity for two-wheeled machines but I do know a thing or two about the four-wheeled varieties as well. The Ford Edsel, only produced between 1958 and 1960, was an ode to Henry's wife but was too modern and impractical to gain popularity. What?"

Jughead Jones knows a thing or two about food, and how people look when they're truly enjoying something. At this moment he'll tell you he feels like braised short ribs or a perfectly cooked steak or a decadent slice of dacquoise, with the way Betty is looking at him.

She swallows, audibly. "No one knows Edsels. No one knows they exist let alone know actual details about their launch, and subsequent failure."

"Hmm, sounds to me you just haven't been meeting the right people," he hoists her heavy bags off the ground and puts them in the trunk. 

Betty's hand reaches for the lid and lingers for a moment before she gently closes it. "You might be onto something, Jones.”

He steps forward, careful not to invade her space too badly but unable to resist the urge to be closer. “Do you maybe want to grab a bite to eat?”

The diner is nice, albeit the interior leaves a little something to be desired. It’s cliche in the way you want a retro establishment to be; walls lined in old adverts, gas and oil cans on shelves, kitschy to a fault. They're tucked in the corner, in a  red, squeaky vinyl booth and had to cross a very large expanse of cheap, sticky linoleum. He just hopes the food makes up for the fact he had to peel his feet up with every step. That’s not a sound one wants to hear in the place where they’re going to eat.

He explains as much to Betty, how atmosphere can change and engage perception, how the menu is designed to make you want the items that make them the most money, and not necessarily the ones that they cook well. After their food comes and he samples the fare he raves about the milkshakes but is unimpressed with everything else. 

“This is farmland, Betty. I passed not two, but three farms coming back. And at least one of them had Angus! Why are we being served frozen burgers?”

Betty eats a fry and pretends to look thoughtful.“I guess it never crossed my mind, Jug. You certainly have strong feelings about food.”

“Yeah, and that’s about the only thing,” he leans back in the booth and lays his arm across the back. “It might align very closely with what I do for a living.”

“You’re a chef,” Betty says matter-of-factly. “That explains your love of cast iron cookware and,” she vaguely gestures around the room. “How you know so much about the business. Still doesn’t answer how you know about Edsels.”

Jughead chuckles in response. “Misspent youth” When she shoots him a questioning look he sighs. "There may be some less than savory characters in my past. I wasn't one of them per se but I could have been described as gang adjacent."

Nodding, Betty takes a sip of the cold confection in front of her. She starts to speak and pauses like she's rolling something around before she says it. Next, she's looking at him as though a lightbulb has gone off. "Wait, wait, you're not a chef you're the chef! The author," Betty’s eyes narrow ever so slightly before going wide, her mouth gapes a bit before she produces words. "You're Forsythe."

How the fuck? "How the fuck?"

"My client from earlier was looking for a dutch oven for her partner's friend, a chef, whose niche is cast iron cookware. This same friend has also authored a series of cookbooks and a youth mystery."

“And what about any of that makes you say my name is Forsythe?” His voice comes out lower than he expects, a harsh timbre colors his words. "And it was not a youth mystery. It sounds like some Tracy True or Baxter Brothers nonsense when you say it like that."

“You are. Holy shit! And they set this up! Oh, those sneaky, brilliant, beautiful women,” Betty buries her face in her hands and groans. 

“Would you please fill me in because I am feeling ten ways of lost and, if I’m being honest, a little creeped out.”

Betty looks up, soft eyes, and smiling. “Oh, Jug. Apparently, our friends have finally gotten sick of our wallowing.”

“What friends? Who has friends?”

She rolls her eyes. “It would seem we do. You see, Cheryl is my cousin and Veronica is my best friend from high school."

"Wait, Cheryl, as in Blossom? And Veronica Lodge?"

Betty nods in affirmation. "They were oil and water through most of our formative years and then after their first year at Sarah Lawrence, well, they came back together. Fast forward two years and enter Toni Topaz, who I'm assuming is the missing link here, yeah?"

"Toni would be one of the three people on this planet I consider family, " he's leaning across the table, elbows making divots in the surface when suddenly he has his own lightbulb moment. "Elizabeth? The itinerant eccentric antiquarian?"

“Wow, is that a Cheryl or Veronica description?" She rubs the bridge of her nose, head shaking as she takes it in. "Doesn't matter, but with a title like that, it's no wonder that you were never around when I was. Oh, and surprise! It would appear your pseudo-sister and her girlfriends are giving you a dutch oven for your next birthday. Congrats.”

Jughead is trying to process, though it feels an awful lot like failing. Until suddenly, it all makes sense. “She's the one who told me I needed to stop here and check out the cast iron. Insisted there was something I needed, something she was certain I would find."

"Well, " Betty looks up at him from under the thick veil of her lashes. "Was she wrong?"

 For years he’s traveled from place to place; running from anything and everything. Even when he decided to put down roots it was relatively far from even the best of his friends. No one could just ‘drop by’, it’s not like he’d have been home anyway. He’s buried his loneliness in new recipes; it’s scratched into the margins of his favorite books, in the words poured from his own hand. He looks at the woman sitting across from him, strawberry milkshake in front of her, glowing under the harsh neon lights that contrast so glaringly will all her soft edges. 

The realization comes easily. He doesn’t have to think about anything more than ‘do I take this risk’ and he’s never been one to say no to risks before. 

He drops his arm, reaching across the table, and before it can rest on the Formica Betty slots her fingers between his. “She has never been more right in her life, but please don’t tell her that."

Betty’s laughter peals through the restaurant. He smiles despite himself. For the first time that he can recall, something good came before nine am. As a matter of fact, when her thumb traces the back of his hand, he’ll even go as far as to say it's something great. 

[vivelareine]

Review: Poesie Perfume “In the Steps of Marie Antoinette” Collection

[Originally posted on my Blogspot but since Tumblr hates links, here we go]

I love perfume, and over the past year I've dived headfirst into the world of indie fragrances. Poesie has become one of my favorite indie perfume houses due to their diverse range of scents which range from

In 2019, Poesie released a special limited collection titled "In the Steps of Marie Antoinette," featuring 6 scents inspired by the queen of France. At the time the collection was released, I didn't have enough spending money to try them all--but thanks to Poesie's annual "Reissue Event," a limited-time event where you can order retired items from their catalog, I was finally able to collect all of them.

À la Reine

Scent Notes: fresh ripe tomato, cucumber, a bouquet of garden herbs, sweet soil, all damp from the summer rain

My Thoughts:

This scent is so, so green. I love that the emphasis is on the vegetable garden, rather than florals--not that there's anything wrong with florals, but I feel like most 'hameau de la reine' inspired scents I've tried before are heavy on the florals. This scent  makes me feel like I'm walking through a vegetable garden after the rain--moist garden dirt, spicy herbs, but then a vegetable sweetness from the juicy tomatoes and cucumbers. It's really amazing how this scent captures the very particular way that gardens smell after the rain... a sort of slightly sweet, slightly spicy earth tinged with vegetables and grass.  

Petit Trianon

Scent Notes: a freshly picked bouquet of wood violets, accented with jasmine sambac, tuberose and Madonna lily, sheer sandalwood

My Thoughts:

This is another scent that I picked up when the collection was originally released. I can't resist a Trianon inspired scent!  This is a very white floral scent, with hints of green underneath, but it is mostly the violets, jasmine and tuberose that stand out. The sandalwood provides a solid thread for the florals and overall the scent gives the impression of walking through a carefully cultivated garden. A very warm, floral scent.  

Rococo Paradise

Scent Notes: ripe strawberries, plush apricot, fresh grass, milk + honey, lavender sprigs

My Thoughts:

This is one of the scents I picked up last year, and it's one of my favorite scents in my collection. This scent smells it belongs in the scene from Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette where the queen and her entourage are picking strawberries and drinking fresh milk at the hameau de la reine. The milk provides a soft creaminess to the scent, which is complemented by the fresh grass and lavender. The strawberries add sweetness--it's more of a wild strawberry undertone, berries tinged with green. A naturally sweet and mellow scent overall.

Folly of Love

Scent Notes: Paradise apples, purple lilac blooms, white Bourbon roses, seductive vanilla

My Thoughts:

I didn't receive this scent until the 2020 reissue event, and truthfully I wish I had picked up a larger size! It is a very soft, summery fragrance. The lilacs and roses form nice floral base, while the apples bright the fragrance with a touch of sweet fruitiness. The vanilla takes awhile to come out, but when it does it adds a rounded softness to the delicate fragrance. I was originally a bit worried that the florals would be overbearing, but the apple note keeps things bright and youthful.

Infamous

Scent Notes: luscious white cake layered with sticky marshmallow creme and topped with mounds of vanilla frosting

My Thoughts:

Unfortunately, this is the only scent from the collection that I did not enjoy. The reason for this is that there is barely any scent at all on my skin. It has an extremely light throw, and I genuinely have to stick my nose right up to my skin to smell anything. Even then, all I can get is a very, very faint vanilla. This is pretty unusual for this company, as while I haven't always enjoyed every scent I've gotten from Poesie, none of them have been so non-existent in terms of scent. Maybe it was an off batch!

Versailles

Scent Notes: golden cake, intoxicating orange blossom, fluffy vanilla citrus icing, blood orange

My Thoughts:

I feel like “Versailles” is what I anticipated from Infamous.  It's not an extremely strong scent, but it has a light to medium throw comparable to other “cake” scents I’ve gotten from Poesie.  This one smells like a vanilla cake smothered in delicious, luscious vanilla-orange frosting. Rich and creamy and downright yummy.

Where to Get Them

"In the Steps of Marie Antoinette" was a limited collection, so the full collection is no longer available from Poesie. However, "Versailles" was added to the Poesie General Catalog based on its popularity so it is available on the official shop page. The scent does seem to sell out fairly regularly, but it is restocked regularly as well.

If you use Reddit, I would recommend checking out the Sunday IMAM Indie Marketplace thread, where you can sometimes find people selling or swapping discontinued scents. The Indie Marketplace thread is posted every Sunday.

Or you can put a pin in this and wait until 2021 when Poesie will likely do another Reissue event.

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

Hidden Agenda (Beckett Harrington x Amelia Russell, Leo x Isabella N*FW, 🍋)

This fic is for Day 4 of the CFWC Kinktober Challenge

Day 4: Massage | Voyeurism | Worshipping

The words used in bold are included in this fanfic. Please only read if you are comfortable with the subject matter and also you are 18+. PSA completed.

TW: In this fic we will be discussing Voyeurism. I apologise now 😂

Tagging: @drakewalkerfantasy @itslaniquelove @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie @lorirwritesfanfic @lorircreates @hopefulmoonobject @rafasgirl23415 @texaskitten30 @rainbowsinthestorm @desireepow-1986 @speedyoperarascalparty @liam-rhys @choicesficwriterscreations

Penderghast’s end of term summer ball was only around the corner and Beckett was still having a hard time adjusting to Katrina being a professor at the college. He kept his distance with her as much as possible but Katrina had a bit of a trick up her sleeve, “Beckett...” she called out to him, “Can I speak with you for a moment?” as he stood alongside the Pend Pals. Clutching onto his books just a little more tightly than normal, Griffin, Shreya, Zeph and Amelia leave him be to catch up with her. “Hi...” Katrina smiled warmly, “I hope today is going pretty well?” Beckett slowly raised his brow wondering what the hell was his sister babbling about, “I have a little present for you...” she handed him an wax sealed envelope, “I spoke with a former school friend of mine when I completed my MBA at Harvard... I know you are worried about dancing at the end of year ball and she has offered to help both you and Amelia with a few pointers...” Beckett looked down at the envelope, the embossed writing, the paper quality before turning it around and noticing the pattern of the seal. Katrina couldn’t contain her glee, “I heard Amelia talking about how she would love to be waltzed in one of my classes recently, so I reached out to one of my dearest unattuned friends who could help... everything you need is in there and she’s offered to do it this weekend...” Beckett began to tap the envelope, a small smile started to form across his face, “Thank you Katrina...” he quipped, “Amelia always does say she misses unattuned television, predominantly Dancing with the Stars, whatever the hell that means but thank you...”

Beckett waited until Katrina had left, ripping open the envelope that contained all the information he would need to know, his jaw lowered as he unfolded the paper, his steel grey eyes immediately widened when they locked onto the letterhead before stuffing it into his pocket. Katrina always had quite upstanding and well to do friends, but not to this caliber. “Hey cutie!” Amelia sneaked up behind him, kissing his cheek. Beckett still wasn’t used to her attention, the tips of his ears turned pink as he tried so hard not to smile, “Amelia...” he cooed, “I hope you don’t have plans this weekend...” she did. She planned to binge watch as many Friends episodes as humanly possible. “Why’s that...” Amelia questioned him, hoping that he didn’t want to have another date in the library. “Well...” he cleared his throat, “I have a little surprise for you... but only if you’re up for it... but it does mean we need to leave Penderghast for a few days and go back into the unattuned world...” it had been so long since Mia had been ‘home’ so to speak and without questioning anything further she threw her arms around him, giving Beckett a tight squeeze, “Yes... of course! But...” she looked at him puzzled, “Where are we going?” Beckett began to smirk as he reached into his blazer jacket removing the folded document, “Does any of this make sense to you?” Amelia’s glistening hazel green eyes widened as she looked at the page and then back to her boyfriend, “You know who this is?!” She tapped the page with her long nails, “How?! They are Royalty! And we?!” Beckett could only chuckle as Mia became so excited, “Yes... well we have been invited to visit, I really hope you like it...”

Walking around the Laurentian Royal estate, Amelia felt like she was in a fairytale, they both were waited on hand and foot until the Queen and King arrived back from their visit to Cordonia. The sun shine brightly down above them as they were escorted into the Palace and into the boutique to allow Amelia and Beckett to change into more suitable attire for her actual surprise. Beckett immediately blushed as he saw Mia return standing in front him in a crimson red fitted gown, “You look...” he swallowed hard, “beautiful...” Beckett was dressed in one of the finest navy Italian cut suits he had ever worn, the slim fit emphasised his broad, strong frame. “You don’t look too bad yourself Harrington...” Mia winked. Beckett bowed towards her, holding his arm out, “Shall we?” Following Javier, Isabella’s Head of the Royal Guard, he brought them to a hidden dance studio kept within the Palace. There were two conjoining rooms, side by side. The hallway was eerily quiet but as soon as Javier opened the door, the music began to seep into the corridor. He jutted his head to the left, indicating for them to move forward and standing in the room was the petite Queen smiling kindly towards them, “Amelia and Beckett... it’s so nice to finally meet you...” embracing them both warmly, “I can only apologise for our lateness... my husband... he can be a little reckless when it comes to our set schedule... but I believe...” her bright white smile calmed both Beckett and Amelia, who were in awe of her presence “...We are here to learn how to do a waltz...”

Mia’s eyes lit up as Beckett grinned, “Surprise...” he cooed as Isabella quickly separated them, teaching Mia and Beckett their associated steps. “Just remember to keep into that box formation and Beckett... you need to bend your knee, your rhythm is like a wave... bend the knee and slightly raise onto your toes...” Isabella’s dark chocolate brown eyes locked onto every detail, watching how they moved with one another. She folded her arms, tapping her finger along her lip noting the corrections mentally. “Ok...” she cooed in her thick accent, “Beckett...” she reached out to him, taking his hands into hers, “Posture...” she quipped, “and you need to hold onto your partner, not treating them like fine china...” putting his hand on her waist, “Better...” she grinned, “One and two... and three...” Mia’s eyes widened as the door opened behind the petite Queen and Beckett. The 6’3” King of Laurentia walked into the room in full military regalia. He raised his brow and commandingly spoke, “You look a little too comfortable holding my wife like that...” Beckett immediately froze, looking to his left towards the door at the devilishly handsome, well built, muscular King. He began to blush as Leo chuckle walking towards them, “But you have no better teacher...” Beckett stepped back immediately feeling rather intimidated. Leo set his mobile phone down beside the speaker before changing the music to something a little more fast paced. “May I cut in?” The blonde Cordonian grinned as he held out his hand to his petite wife.

Their bodies pressed against each other closely and with each intricate turn and spin, Isabella’s tea length floral dress spun along with her, both her and Leo looked so at ease with one another; it was flawless. Beckett was taken aback at how intense their expressions were to one another and whispering little nothings into each other’s ear, even when they came to a stop. Leo turned to their guests with a dazzling grin, “I hope you don’t mind if I borrow my wife momentarily?” Isabella smiled as Leo put his arm around her waist, “Beckett and Amelia... please practice before I get back. I shouldn’t be long, we’ll only be next door if you need something...” Isabella and Leo disappeared off, “Oh my God...” Amelia squealed, “That was amazing!!” but were interrupted by Leo’s phone calling, vibrating on the desk. Both of them stared as it stopped, but immediately rang again as they put the music back on. “Maybe I should...” Beckett picked up the phone, it was a picture of the Cordonian King flashing up, “I’ll bring it next door, it might be an emergency...” Amelia nodded quietly as Beckett confidently walked towards the second room. His eyes widened as he found the King and Queen in a risqué moment. Isabella was propped up on the barré attached to the side of the wall, her tea length halter neck dress was pulled up around her waist as the King was on his knees with his mouth lapping against her core. Beckett couldn’t help himself as Isabella grabbed Leo’s sandy blonde hair tightly with her eyes shut, quietly moaning “uh huh... that’s it... keep going...”. Beckett mumbled a quiet incantation making himself invisible. He stepped into the room and quietly closed the door behind him as Isabella and Leo unknowingly continued.

Beckett could feel his length straining against the suit trousers he was wearing as Leo untied Isabella’s halter neck tie, exposing her breasts. “Mmm” the Laurentian King groaned sucking on her ample heaving breasts, “You’re fucking irresistible kitten...” Ripping at the buttons of his double breasted military coat, Isabella squealed with a mischievous grin as her hands caressed Leo’s muscular torso. Beckett crept up, sliding the phone into Leo’s pocket but listening to the young twenty eight year old Queen’s breath hitching, Beckett couldn’t contain himself. When he held her waist moments before, he could smell her wild jasmine and bluebell perfume filling his sense. With his eyes closed and the Royal pairing otherwise engaged, Beckett unzipped his trousers and began to stroke himself as he watched the Laurentian Queen moan and quiver in her husbands arms. Biting down on his lip, he tried so hard not to cry out, gripping his cock harder. He sucked in his breath as Leo’s phone began to vibrate again inside his pocket, stepping away quickly so Leo wouldn’t notice. “Do you have to answer it?” Isabella pouted as Leo quickly checked. Rolling his eyes he saw he had four missed calls from Liam and again, Liam was calling. Leo answered as he slowed his thrusting much to Isabella’s annoyance, but have Beckett a chance to see how hung the Laurentian King was. His jaw dropped as he watched Leo’s hard, thick uncut cock slide in and out of the Queen. He didn’t know who’s one more jealous of at that moment in time. “Liam... can this wait? I’m a little busy right now...” Isabella rolled her eyes unimpressed as Leo continued, “What do you mean how am I busy?” Leo shook his head in disbelief, “I’m kinda balls deep in my wife here trying to make a baby... so you tell me if that’s not me being busy or?...” Isabella pouted as she reached for the phone, taking it from Leo she hung up on Liam and threw it onto the floor, “Oops...” she innocently giggled, putting her arms around the newly crowned King, “Now fuck me like you mean it...”

Leo wasted no time, thrusting as hard as he could, Isabella’s head kept kitting off of the concrete wall but she was too enthralled to care. Beckett couldn’t hold back any longer, he had to cum. With the quietest groan, he came into the closet thing he could find, a waste paper bin. As Isabella dug her nails into Leo’s back, her eyebrow rose slightly thinking she saw a flicker in the background but it disappeared nearly immediately when she blinked. Beckett pulled up his suit trousers and quietly sneaked out as the King and Queen groaned loudly as they came together in sync. Walking back to the other room, Beckett mumbled his way back to a viewable form, his face and ears were a blush pink returning to see Mia, standing there with her arms folded, “Where did you go to?!” She huffed, “We’re meant to be practicing...” Beckett nodded as he quietly took her hand swaying back and forth, “Wow...” Mia gasped, “How did you get a whole lot better in twenty minutes... you better not have cast any magic?” Forcing a smile, the young Harrington laughed it off, “No... nothing like that at all, maybe I just needed some time to reflect... Amelia...” Beckett sighed, “I...” his trail of thought disturbed as Isabella and Leo returned as if nothing ever happened, “Mi amor...” Isabella cooed, “Mira... so much better!” Beckett couldn’t look Isabella or Leo in the eye knowing what he had just done. He found himself sexually attracted to them both; he still couldn’t believe his luck that he walked in on them but if he could do it again, he would

[peaches-of-1]

Peachtober | Day 14: Overgrown

Black!Reader x Monster Woo

Summary: Monster Woo is a simple man who sells flowers for a living and you are an Instagram photographer. Your models’ faces are better known than you yourself, but Woo wants to see what’s behind the camera.

Genre: Fluff

Moodboard and reaction requests open! Mstrlst in bio!

During a sunny Spring Day, a new shipment of flowers come in at 꽃벌 (play on words of flower and bee). It is the largest one since it is the start of the season. Valentine's Day is long gone, and White Day was a hit. All of the red and white roses being 70% of the seasonal inventory and now going back to its regular 40% since roses would sell no matter what season or occasion.

Youngwoo rolled up his burgundy sleeves to help the part time worker carry large sacks of fertilizer and dirt into the back while she balanced seedlings and vases under her arms and even atop her coily buzzcut.

“Naveah, once you’re done bringing in all the pots, can you start organizing them please?” He asked.

“Sure, Big Daddy.” She replied.

The tall man sighed, “I told you to stop calling me that.”

Naveah just smiled in response and continued to carry the rest of the product until the truck was empty. Then she began sorting pots by height and material while Woo worked on answering calls and writing down some new clients and jobs they were wanted for. A few weddings, a birthday, two divorce parties. One he turned down because they were planning on burning flowers, and he could never imagine putting his beautiful gifts through that.

A young woman about 20 or older came in dressed in purple slacks, heels to match, and a white shirt. Her typha colored hand reaching into her purse for her phone to check if she was at the right location.

She entered the store and Woo told the woman on the phone, “One second.”

“Hello.”

“Hello, I am Y/N and I run a photography blog. I was wondering if you would be interested in hiring me to take pictures of your flowers for advertising. I have experience with both still life and live models.” She said, setting her card down on the desk.

Woo picked it up and read the Hangul and the English translation. She was a photographer for sure.

“Why does your name seem so familiar?”

She gave a smile, “A few of my models have walked during Seoul Fashion Week this past bit cuz they saw my photos.”

He smiled, “Ah, right. It seems like  with a face like yours, you would be the one in front of the camera.”

Y/N began to blush, “Oh, um. Thank you.”

The two just stared at each other and smiled for a moment before she spoke up.

“Well, I should get going. You have a phone call to get back to.”

Woo nodded, “Oh, right. Yes. It was nice meeting you and I will be in contact.”

The woman left and the florist finished the call, thankful they hadn't hung up. Y/N...jeez she was beautiful.

The sound of a glass vase breaking snapped the tall man out of his daze. He sighed and called out the worker's name before heading over to get the broom to hand to her.

After work, Woo locked up and said farewell to his worker before taking a taxi home. Before going to bed, he looked up the Instagram page that was on the card Y/N gave him.

She was really good. Like, it was so much better than he had expected. Pictures of flowers in vases and people and so many beautiful faces. A lot of her stuff was currently flower based. It seemed she didn’t delete the stuff from her early days either. The camera quality had gome up so much too. Woo couldn’t help but like one of them that made him think of a tattoo. Wait, no.

It was from 4 years ago! She was going to think he was a creep! No, no. Y/N wouldn’t do that, right? It was just a possible employer checking out an employee’s past work to see if it would affect his current business. He made up his mind. Woo would hire the beautiful black girl to work for his company. All of his current photos were taken by him and Naveah, so they weren’t that great. If they could up the photo quality of the inventory, then they would sell more.

The large man soon fell asleep thinking about what floral arrangements he would make for each tier. Each one was linked with a color, so he could make it monochrome. Or maybe most of that color. Y/N looked really cute in purple. Hair like an allium.

The next day at the shop, Youngwoo called her while setting up the flowers he would use for this week’s specialty arrangement.

“Hello, this is Photobomb Productions, Y/N speaking.” She said in English and then repeated it in Korean.

Woo smiled, “Hello. This is Youngwoo from 꽃벌. I would like to take you up on your offer of becoming our floral photographer. I have been meaning to take some new pics for some summer deals.”

He could hear her squaling out of excitement in the background and then she cleared her throat and talked professionally, “That is great to hear. What day or time would the photographic subjects be ready for me to photograph?”

“Today is Friday, so I will be busy all weekend. I can get them done by either Tuesday or Wednesday since I already have sketches. All I have to do it put them together.”

“Perfecto! How does Tuesday at 2pm sound?” Y/N asked.

Woo looked at his schedule, “I have a delivery at 1:30 in the afternoon, but I will probably have my worker handle that one.”

“I see. Alright, well, I will see you then. Do not hesitate to call me if we have to move it to Wednesday. Have a nice day.”

“You too.” Woo replied and the woman hung up.

“Who was that, Big Daddy?” his worker asked, carrying in a box of seeds to set up in the seed bin near the front.

He rolled his eyes, “That woman who came in yesterday. A photographer. She’s gonna take photos for us from now on. I’m gonna be up late drafting up a contract and then we’ve gotta--” The tattooed florist sighed. “I shouldn’t bore you with technicalities. Let’s get these arrangements done.”

“Let me bring over the vases.” The short haired woman said.

Woo looked at the workbench, “Neveah, where are the Calla Lilies?” he asked after her.

“We had two weddings that wanted them, so we are getting an emergency shipment in, but not until tomorrow.” She replied, making sure the seed packets fell flat before adding more on.

He nodded, “Right. Right. Um…” then he remembered the thought he had last night and went to a sky blue bucket and picked out a bulbous purple flower with a long stem. “We’ll use these today instead.”

And so for the next few minutes before the sign was flipped, the two made matching arrangements. Neveah had always wanted to do more now that her probation was up. Woo’s shop was known for flowers and arrangements, served weddings of all types and even funerals. The most important thing about it was who it employed, however. Former convicts and people who were needed someplace to work while on probation.

Youngwoo believed that everyone deserved a second chance and that humans could change, which is why he hired who he did.

“Ah, it didn’t come out as well as yours.” Neveah said as hers had a bit of a bend in the long stem and just seemed overall more messy than the one her boss made.

“Don’t worry about it. This is only the third one you’ve ever made, so I think you did really well. In fact, yours will go on the box instead of mine so people will see it first.” The man set hers onto the white wooden box in the window and placed his next to it.

Dark pink roses and sunflowers graced the top of the white vase with solid aster placed in here and there. The allium rested above each one like a proud head. They would stay in the front for the week and then they would be dead and turned into compost for a nearby flower nursery.

The woman smiled and then it was time to flip the sign. Business didn’t pick up until around lunch which was the usual thing. People buying either a single flower or a dozen on the way to a date. When Neveah left for the day, Yieun clocked in and hugged Woo having started this business together before she tried and failed to become an idol.

“Is the car filled up yet? Remember, I have to drop off some stuff for a business meeting and a 16th birthday today.” She said.

“It’s all packed up and ready to go. Feel free to double check, but it had been pretty quiet today.” He replied. “Ah, are there business cards still inside?”

Tuesday came, and Woo was nervous to see her again. They had talked over the phone for the past couple of days to finalize things. Y/N was really kind but he could tell how much her work meant to her. It was a small business that she was ultimately running on her own and often didn’t get paid for her time because people hardly ever took the arts seriously. Photography was no exception.

People thought it was just sitting in good lighting, point and click, which it wasn’t.

Woo had three different arrangements made for each color level. White, green, purple, and yellow. Each added the amount of flower types and the default price was a clear glass vase. A custom vase color/type would cost $3 extra. The second and third were in custom vases and set up in the workshop.

It was extra clean for today and there were no arrangements to be made. Mondays through Wednesdays were the slowest of the slow most of the time. That meant today was perfect for Y/N to come in.

She arrived right on time in a yellow long sleeve top tucked into a rainbow skirt and white and rainbow shoes. Rainbow accessories too, but carrying a duffle bag of work stuff.

Yieun was out on her current delivery, so Woo fixed his brows and hair before greeting her with a poliot bow.

“Hello, Y/N. How are you doing today? Have you eaten?” He asked.

“I am doing well, and yes I have. I went to a taco place. It was good, but the sauce stained the jacket I was wearing.” The woman sighed, tying her hair back before she set up everything.

It wasn’t the most glamorous thing, but Woo asked if he could watch. She said as long as he stayed behind the camera, it was ok. However, the man wasn’t watching the flowers, but instead watched how she worked. The way she bent over to get a better angle from her tripod and set up the lights.

She seemed so delicate, like she herself was a rose petal in need of much care. However, they way she pursed her lips seemed to go perfectly like thorns. The man knew she wasn’t thinking about him. Her eyes were on the flowers, but at the same time, Y/N was all he could think about for the past week.

Sometimes his imagination would try to run away with the idea of her, but that wasn’t fair to her. He barely knew her last name.

The shy and strong Woo was enchanted by the photographer. Ah, he wanted to say something to her. To ask her out, but she was so professional. This was just work for her, and he didn’t want to get in the way of her job. Still, wasn’t it worth a chance to at least get a proper answer instead of wondering “What if?”

“No, no.”

“Um, Youngwoo? Can you help raise this up a bit more?” She reached her brown hand towards the top of the light.

As the taller man helped her, he decided to just go for it, “Hey, um, Y/N. Feel free to say no, but I was um. I was wondering if you would possibly maybe want to go on a sort of kind of date with me?”

“Oh, um, sure. Right there is good.”

Woo tightened the stand, and she began taking pictures again.

“What kind of place were you thinking?” She asked. “Y’know, for our date? Dinner and a movie?”

“I’d like to take you on a picnic. I know it’s sort of cliche, but Han River is really nice and there’s usually some nice busking that goes on there.” He said was her felt his heart beat outside of his chest, “I am leaving the shop to Yieun and a part timer this weekend. We can do it then.”

Y/N smiled up at him as she stood on the other side of the arrangement, “Sounds like a plan, Youngwoo. I shall wear a dress.”

“You can wear anything you want. I’m sure you’ll look great.” The man answered earnestly.

A surprised smile before Yieun called for him. Woo said he’d be right back and went to go talk to his co-worker about what had to be done. It wasn’t much. Just a bit of organizing here and there and sweeping. Simple things that took a while.

“By the way~” She whispered. “Did you ask her out? Niveah said she’s all you talk about.”

“I did.” He replied, playing coy.

“And? Did she say yes?”

A smile broke out on his face, “She did.”

Yieun put her hands up for a high five and asked for details one their hands met in celebration.

The following days, Woo kept sending his friend photos for potential outfits. She kept telling him to ditch the dress shirts because he looked awkward in them. It was just a casual thing, so he went with some gray sneakers, khakis, and a black and white striped top. Because of the pollen forecast, he opted out of contacts and just wore his glasses. The most expensive thing he wore was his gold watch from a birthday.

He had decided on a simple picnic instead of the ferry for dinner. Maybe if things went well, but he didn't wanna look too far ahead. He knew of a spot away from the main busy area where a few weeping willows provided the perfect shade.

“Youngwoo-ssi!” Her familiar voice called.

The man was breathless as could be as Y/N walked towards him, her copper skin covered in a blue and white dress that allowed for her arm to be bare except for a gold and white bracelet. Simple makeup other than a pink matte lip that accented her smile.

They bowed and greeted each other.

“You look...amazing.” He couldn’t help but stared.

“Thank you. You look great, too. I think this is my first time seeing you without an apron on.” She replied.

Woo smiled in response, “Thank you. I have a super special spot for us. A friend told me about it.”

She smiled, “Sounds great.”

“Have you had any other clients lately?” He asked.

“Oh my gosh, so I had this really sweet woman come in yesterday with her pregnant wife so that we can do the pregnancy announcement pictures and stuff. This is fine. I had it set up and such for that because she made an appointment.”

The tall man smiled, “Oh, that is really nice.”

“However, she went into labor in the middle of me taking the photos.”

“She what?”

“Right?

Woo asked, “Did she not know she was going to give birth?”

Y/N shrugged dramatically, “I guess not, but luckily, my next door neighbor is in her last year of training to become a nurse. She helped to deliver the baby in my bathtub.” She laughed. “I spent most of the day cleaning it.”

Both of them laughed at the whole story. That’s what it was like to have an at home studio as a photographer.

“Ah, here it is.”

Behind the leaves of a willow tree, there was a perfect little alcove where a red gingham blanket was spread out and food was separated between the two in the form of sandwiches. Conversation flowed smoothly as the overgrown tree provided shade for the couple that fate decided to put together. They talked about work and of family.

Kim Youngwoo blushed when she complimented him on being a good person, taking in people society had rejected because of a series of bad mistakes.

He told her about how he just wanted to help people like him, how the U.S. basically deported him back to Korea because of--

“I don’t care what you did, Youngwoo.” Y/N said honestly. “You’re obviously not the same person you were back then, or at least you are doing much better. Besides, that isn’t the person I’m starting fall for.”

“Who are you starting to fall for?” Woo asked, hoping his heart was beating for all the right reasons.

She bit her lip and then looked up at him after hesitating to say the truth, “You.”

[prince-claremont-diaz]

étoiles et fleurs

Summary: Lucas is next in line for the throne, about to be engaged to marry a young noble woman and he hates it. That is, until he runs into the curious florist, Eliott, on a walk through the city. Lucas has little choices in life, but will one of them be Eliott?

Word count: 2.9k 

Warnings: none

ao3 version:

ii.

Lucas sighed, putting his book down on his knees and turning to look out the window and onto the grounds. The massive garden was alive with colour, the lawn a vibrant green, flowers of every kind covering the hedges and trees and bushes. Roses and marigolds and lilies and carnations, perfectly trimmed and watered.

That day, it was a particularly clear afternoon, only a few pale white clouds bobbing along the pale blue June sky. Lucas could see one of the gardeners out with his clippers, trimming the hedges neatly.

Lucas looked along the corridor for any signs of life, tilting his head back against the window frame, tucking his knees in closer on the bay window. He could barely get a second of peace anymore now that he was technically dating Chloé. Although it was hardly dating since it was arranged and he couldn't stand the girl. The more he got to know her, the more he realised she was physically incapable of not talking, always going on and on about complete nonsense. She talked his ear off at dinner about annoying servants, complained in the garden about friends back home, babbled in the library about her new clothes she was sent.

Opening his book once again, Lucas pushed all thoughts about Chloé out of his mind and continued to read his book.

He was almost onto the next chapter, starting to get into the scene, when he heard quick footsteps behind him, followed by someone grabbing his shoulders. Lucas startled, dropping his book onto the floor with a thud and spinning around so fast his neck clicked. When he came face to face with none other than Yann, his startled frown melted into a grin. "You gave me a fucking heart attack, Yann!" he whined, shoving his friend and getting off the window sill.

Yann snorted, shoving his shoulder back. "Don't be such a drama queen—sorry, prince. It's not my fault you're jumpier than a kitten," Yann replied, smirking and jumping out of the way of Lucas' swat. "Oho, that's not very nice, is it? I know I'm just a servant, but surely you don't have to be so cruel!" Yann mocked defense, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.

"Can I help you, Yann?" Lucas asked, crossing his own arms.

Yann shrugged casually, plopping onto the windowsill with his back against the window. "Shouldn't I be asking you that, your Royal Highness?" Yann teased. He digressed, straightening up. "But really, no. Mum let me go for a wander and I was bored so I came to exactly where I knew you'd be."

"How'd you know I'd be here? No one else knows about this area," Lucas asked, furrowing his eyebrows together, "No one ever comes here because it's not even near any staff quarters."

"Oh, Lulu, you underestimate me," Yann replied, "Of course I know where you hide from your little girlfriend. You're far too predictable, really." Lucas rolled his eyes. "A distant, mostly deserted corner of the castle which is relatively close to the library and has a good enough view of the gardens? Hmm, I wonder how I figured out you'd be here…"

Lucas leaned against the wall by the window and slid down to the floor with his back against the wall. "Okay, so maybe I am a little predictable," Lucas admitted. He lifted his fallen book and flattened out its pages, closing it properly and setting it down by his side. "But can you blame me for hiding? That girl never stops. I needed a break before dinner later on."

"How on earth would I ever manage to talk to her, Lucas?" Yann deadpanned, staring at Lucas, "I'm just the butler's son and she's a noble who is soon-to-most-likely-be-engaged to the heir to the throne."

Lucas groaned, shut his eyes and hit his head against the wall. "Fuck. Sorry," he muttered, "I don't use my head at all."

Yann poked his nose with his finger. "No, you don't," Yann said, "But it's okay. I forgive you."

They fell into amicable silence, Yann watching the gardener water the plats while Lucas fiddled with the pages of his book, legs outstretched in front of him. If he really strained, Lucas could just about hear the chirping of birds outside the window.

"Do you really think I'm going to have to be engaged to Chloé?" Lucas asked after they had been sitting in silence for almost 20 minutes. He looked over his shoulder, making Yann turn his head from the window down to him.

Yann sighed, placing a comforting hand on one of Lucas' shoulders. "I hate to break it to you, but yes," Yann admitted sadly, "Most likely. She's from a noble family that has pretty much always backed your family and she's been basically living here since late April. And you're of marrying age. I think it's safe to say you'll be engaged at least by the end of summer."

Lucas groaned, falling onto his side on the itchy carpet, burying his face in his hands. "But I don't want to marry her," Lucas whined, distorted by his hands, "She's annoying and talks too much and I'm not even 21 yet. I don't wanna marry anybody yet." Yann climbed off the bay window and settled down beside Lucas, forcing him to sit up. "I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes I really hate being the prince." Lucas rested his head on Yann's shoulder, scowling.

Yann reached up and patted his head. "I know, Lucas," he said, "I'm sorry." Lucas frowned deeper, glancing sideways.

"Sorry? What for?"

"Even though you're a royal and have all these privileges, at least I have more choices in life than you."

♤

Dinner that evening was a disaster. Lucas' father called him out for hiding from Chloé all day because she asked multiple people where he was (including the king!). This turned into his father yelling about duty and chivalry and honour and how Lucas would never be a good enough king. Chloé cried, his mother left the dining hall shaking, his father accidentally broke a plate slamming his hand on it in anger and Lucas stormed out of the dining hall with his hands curled into tight fists.

Lucas burst into the hallway, pacing the floor and breathing heavily, tightening and loosening his fists. The doors to the dining hall swung open again and Manon hurried out, holding up her scarlet dress, hair a mess. Lucas was hunched, leaned against the wall, eyes burning with hot tears as he tried to keep himself from punching the wall out of anger.

"Lucas? Lucas, are you okay?" she asked, striding over to him. She held his fists in both her hands, uncurling his fingers to reveal red rimmed crescents indenting his palms. "He's wrong, Lucas. None of that is true. You'll be a far better king than he ever has been, okay? You have more chivalry and honour in your big toe than he does in his entire body." She wiped the tears from his cheeks, smiling sadly.

"But what if he's not wrong? What if, when I become king, I ruin everything?" Lucas cried, sniffling. "And I'm hardly ready to marry anyone nevermind her."

"Maybe if you tell mother—"

Lucas cut her off and shoved her away. "No! I'm never going to be satisfied with my spouse and you know it," Lucas snapped, "I'll never be happy enough with who I marry and our parents won't ever care." Manon started to reply, but Lucas was already marching out of the hallway, heels clicking on the stone floor.

"Lucas, where are you going?" Manon called after him, hands on her hips and worried frown on her face.

"Out! Anywhere is better than here!" he called over his shoulder, storming down a flight of stairs. He heard Manon's heels following him down the stairs frantically, hair flowing behind her and skirt bunched into her fists. "You're not stopping me, Manon."

"Come on, Lucas. Don't do this. You can't just leave the castle."

Lucas stopped and spun around, fresh tears in his eyes, making Manon blur in his vision. "I'm just going for a walk, okay? I'll be back later." And before Manon could protest further, Lucas spun back around and stormed out the front doors once again.

♤

It was sunset by the time Lucas reached the middle of the city. He was mostly calm now, walking through the winding streets. The evening air was cool against his skin, having neglected wearing a coat, which left him in his simple white button down. All the market stalls were shut for the night as well, only a few shops and restaurants still open. The streets were almost deserted and Lucas only passed a handful of people, thankfully. He was considering turning back, shivering with cold, when he stumbled upon a small florists still open, warm light flooding onto the dim street.

Lucas pulled his sleeves over his hands and stepped inside the shop. He was instantly overwhelmed by the strong floral scent filling the air, along with the pleasant heat coming from a small fireplace in the corner. Lucas glanced around the entire store, brushing his fingers over the soft petals and leaves, occasionally leaning down to smell one.

"Hello," a voice said in his ear. Lucas lept to the side, whipping his head up, eyes wide. He found himself barely an inch away from the same florist from the market stall pess than a month ago.

"Fuck, you scared me!" Lucas exclaimed, clutching his chest.

The man chuckled, eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to!" he replied, still laughing, "I was just coming to see if my customer needed anything. Looks like I found my favourite one."

Lucas flushed, distracting himself by fidgeting with the stem of a gloxinia.

"It's been a while. I was starting to think you were a dream," the man continued, "Or at least that you weren't coming back." The man was standing so close to Lucas he could feel his breath on the side of his face and neck. It sent a chill down his spine.

"Yeah, I've been, uh, busy," Lucas replied sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "And I live just outside of the city, so it's hard to come here often, I guess."

"What a shame," the man said. "Where's your companion from last time? The magnolia girl."

Lucas snorted at the memory. "She's back home. I came here myself."

The man nodded and clapped his hands together once. "Right. Well, can I do anything for you today?" he asked, stepping away finally to gesture towards the flowers surrounding them. "I'm Eliott, by the way. I don't believe I introduced myself last time. Silly me." He held out his hand in front of Lucas.

Lucas shook his hand, lingering for far too long to be considered normal. "Lu—Louis."

Eliott smirked, a knowing glint in his eye. He's onto me. "Well, Louis, what can I do for you? Another arrangement for a special someone?" Eliott asked with a teasing lilt to his voice. He gestured around the shop again. "I can do loads of different bouquets for all occasions."

Lucas stepped past Eliott further into the shop, looking around the room at the seemingly endless array of flowers filling the room. They were set in baskets and vases and paper bags on the wall, overlapping endlessly in a rainbow of petals and leaves and ribbons. Lucas made his way all the way to the back of the shop where he found a bunch of parchment stuck to the wall, adorned with what looked like pressed azaleas and peonies.

"They're my favourite flowers," Eliott said, appearing by Lucas' side, "They symbolise my soul. Like spirit flowers or something."

Lucas walked ever closer to the wall, lightly touching one of the azalea petals. "So like floriography?" Lucas asked casually, glancing sideways at Eliott. Eliott's smile softened, looking down at Lucas through his lashes.

He nodded. "Yeah. Exactly like that."

"So." Lucas turned his entire body towards Eliott, who mirrored him. "What flowers am I? What's my soul flower?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly, suggestively.

A sharp intake of breath. A grin. A pause. Eliott looked Lucas up and down thoughtfully, tilting his head to the side. The silence in the air hung heavy and charged, but no less comfortable. "I don't know. I'll think about it," Eliott said after a moment. "Maybe come back and I'll have one in mind."

"Okay then…" Lucas turned around, circling the store once again. "Will you make me an arrangement at least? Any that you like. Any occasion you can think of," he said, walking backwards, grinning. Eliott followed him, eyes full of mirth.

"Now that I can do." And then Eliott was hurrying around the small shop, knocking down baskets and grabbing flowers here and there seemingly haphazardly. Lucas hopped up onto the cash desk, swinging his legs back and forth as he watched Eliott hurtling around the room collecting the flowers for the bouquet. It was the most fun Lucas had had in weeks, watching Eliott stumble and scatter around, a man on a mission, barely pausing for breath.

After five minutes, Eliott came over to the table with a bundle of flowers, laying them down and searching through the stack of ribbons. He pulled out a baby blue one and went to work arranging the flower assortment into the way he liked. Lucas watched with interest, giggling when Eliott dropped flowers or struggled over tying the neat bow to perfection. Finally, after making sure the bouquet was satisfactory, Eliott presented the bouquet with a flick of the wrist, holding it up for Lucas to take.

Lucas gasped as he looked over the arrangement. It was made with gloxinias, yellow tulips, white carnations and a few sprigs of heathers, all bunched together perfectly tied with the baby blue ribbon. Love at first sight, loveliness, admiration, Lucas thought to himself. The mixture of flowers smelled divine. Lucas glanced back up at Eliott, cheeks burning, and smiled flirtatiously. Eliott watched Lucas inspecting the floral arrangement, smirking, eyes glinting hopefully. Lucas took another whiff of the bouquet, eyes closing with contentment.

He looked back at Eliott and raised his eyebrows. "This is quite the selection of flowers you chose," Lucas said, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Well I thought they would suit you, now," Eliott replied simply, "I'm glad you like it." He stepped forwards, closing the majority of the gap between them. He was only a few inches away, warm breath hitting Lucas' face with mint and coffee. Lucas sucked in a breath, eyes wide as he peered up at the taller man with awe and something he thought was attraction. Lucas could have sworn he saw a similar look in Eliott's bright eyes that stared straight into his soul.

"How much is the bouquet?" Lucas asked, taking a step back and clearing his throat.

Eliott blinked, stepping back as well, face falling briefly before returning to a polite smile. Lucas' heart fell with it. "You can have it for free," Eliott said, "Take it as a gift from me."

"Are you sure? I assure you I can afford it—"

Eliott nodded. "I insist. Your sweetheart must get gifts like these often. Perhaps you should get something for a change." Eliott pushed the bouquet closer to Lucas' chest, still forcing a polite smile. Lucas caught Eliott's wrist, staring at him.

"Thank you, Eliott."

Eliott gulped. He glanced at Lucas' grasp on his wrist and back at Lucas, eyes wide. "I'm serious. No one's ever done something like this for me. So, thank you," Lucas repeated, deadly serious. His heart was racing with the intensity in the air between them, eyes burning from staring at Eliott so long.

"Well, I'm glad I can be the one to do it for you," Eliott replied, finally breaking their eye contact, glancing at the bouquet. "You deserve—"

"Eliott? Are you ready to go?"

Lucas ripped his hand off of Eliott's wrist, jumping back and nearly tossing his flowers behind him. Both men turned towards the door to the shop where a young woman was standing looking at them curiously. She glanced at Lucas and he turned away, avoiding her eyes.

Eliott peered at Lucas and back at the woman. He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck. "Lucille. I apologise, but I was just speaking with this customer and, er, got a bit distracted," Eliott replied, moving towards the back of the shop and disappearing behind the desk. Lucas watched the exchange with his heart at his knees, face scarlet.

Lucas took a deep breath, straightening his trousers and pushing past the woman–Lucille and into the street. "Thanks for the flowers, sir," he said over his shoulder, ignoring the woman and looking at Eliott behind her. "The recipient will love them, I'm sure," he added cryptically, smiling politely. Lucas turned fully away and began his trek back down the street, sighing.

"I'll see you again soon, sir." Lucas stopped walking. He turned back around and found Eliott standing outside of the shop, hands in his pockets. Lucille was unlocking the door to the shop, back turned to them. "Please." Lucille finished, turning to face Eliott and Lucas.

Lucas nodded stiffly, gesturing with the flowers. "If you can find my soul flower, I'll certainly be back for more of these arrangements," he replied. Before Eliott even had the chance to react or reply, Lucas was already hurrying away down the street. He looked down at the bouquet once again and couldn't help but smile despite the discomfort caused by the girl interrupting them.

Maybe he would be coming back to the city more often.

[deaky-disco-queen]

When I Saw Him Standing There (Poly!Queen Week Day 7)

A/N: Prompt: Modern AU; the idea came from this ask I got: “Freddie, Roger & John runs their own fashion brand & it’s rapidly gaining popularity, Freddie’s the designer, Roger’s in charge of marketing and PR and John handles their financial and other business side of things; They were celebrating after a successful fashion show at a bar one night when this beautiful singer with his warm singing voice and guitar on stage totally captured their hearts, Freddie is now adamant on having him model for their brand and be their(his) Muse because he totally inspired his next collection of a series of new designs. (Brian’s studying Astronomy and working on his thesis, some night’s he sings in bars with his guitar for extra income and as a stress relief)“ so thank you anon for this! 

Can also be read on AO3. 

+++

“To us!” 

Freddie lifted his glass and both John and Roger followed suit, their glasses clicking together loudly. 

    “To us!” they echoed 

They all took a long gulp of their drinks, their faces split into grins. Just a few hours before they had ended their first successful fashion show, launching their new latest collection for their fashion label, Queen. They were gaining popularity fast and neither of them could really believe it just yet. 

Roger kissed them both.

    “I can’t fucking believe it!” 

John giggled and hooked his ankle around Freddie’s and leaned against Roger who wrapped his arm around him. Freddie waved down a waitress and ordered them two rounds of shots for celebration. He could barely sit still from excitement, grabbing both his boyfriend’s hand to tangle their fingers together. 

Their shots arrived and they downed them fast. 

At some point, the woman who had been playing piano got up, thanked the audience and got off the stage and instead a tall man with dark, curly hair got on. Freddie’s breath caught in his throat and he heard both Roger and John make impressed noises. The man was carrying a red guitar and wearing simple black jeans and a white button down along with run-down sneakers. It wasn’t anything special but Freddie was intrigued. 

The man adjusted the microphone to his height and then- without introducing himself- started singing. His voice was warm and soft as he sang about space travel and Freddie gasped, grabbing his boyfriends hands. 

    “I need to know who this man is.” 

Freddie scrambled to pull his sketchbook out of his bag, ideas for new designs already forming in his head and he immediately started sketching a tall, slim figure to draw his ideas onto. By the end of the man’s performance, he had filled several pages. 

He got off the stage and Freddie pushed Roger out of their booth when he was too slow for his liking. The man was just putting his guitar in a case as they came stumbling into the small backroom. He looked up at the noise. 

    “Darling!” Freddie exclaimed. “What a wonderful performance!” 

    “Ah, thank you.” 

Freddie held out a hand and the man took it, clearly expecting a handshake and not a hand kiss, a faint blush spreading over his cheeks. 

    “My name is Freddie, and this are Roger and John.” 

    “I’m Brian.” 

Roger stepped around Freddie to shake Brian’s hands while John just smiled and gave him a quick wave. 

    “Pleasure to meet you, Brian.” 

Brian seemed a bit overwhelmed with the whole situation but he still agreed to have a drink with them. They returned to their booth, this time with Brian and ordered another round of drinks. 

    “You want me as a model?” 

Brian shook his head with laughter but stopped when he saw Freddie nodded eagerly. He frowned and looked to Roger and John who shrugged and nodded towards the dark-haired man. Freddie pushed the sketch book towards him and Brian flipped through it. 

    “And that was only during your performance! Imagine what I could come up with if I had more time with you? And you would wear it so well since they were inspired by you!”

Brian hesitated visibly and Freddie grabbed the beermat, gesturing to his boyfriends for a pen and John actually had one and gave it to him. He scribbled his number on it and gave it to him. He wanted to ask Brian to come to their studio, to show him their work and maybe take some pictures of him and convince him this way but John had known he would want to try that and had placed his hand on his knee, squeezing it when he noticed him getting antsy. 

    “Thank you.” Brian said. 

He left after another drink, thanking them again and Freddie almost smashed his head against the table with a groan. Both Roger and John hugged him and tried to reassure him. 

    “I can’t believe I just let my muse slip through my fingers! What if he never calls?”

John carded his fingers through his hair and pressed a kiss against his cheek once he stopped burying his face in his arms. Roger had one arm wrapped around him, pulling him close against him. 

    “He will call. I’m sure of it.”

+++

It took more than a week for Brian to call Freddie. The whole time, he was on edge, waiting for the call and checking his phone constantly. Nothing John or Roger did managed to distract him and he kept complaining about how they had missed out on a perfect opportunity. He also kept drawing, designing an incredible amount of outfits. 

Freddie’s phone rang while he was in the bathtub and at first, he considered not answering but eventually, he reached for the phone on the edge of the tub and saw that it was an unknown number. Immediately, he sat up a little bit straighter and wiped his hand on a towel and accepted the call. 

    “Hello?” 

    “Freddie? This is Brian.” 

He felt his heart speeding up and a grin spread over his face. He had almost given up on hearing of him ever again and had mentally prepared to go back to the bar to bother the staff there to find out anything about Brian. 

    “Darling, I am so glad you called me! Did you think about our offer?” 

There was rustling from the other end of the line and Brian cleared his throat. Freddie could hear muffled noises in the background. 

    “Yes, I’d like to try it.” 

    “Wonderful! When do you have time?” 

They decided on a date, said their farewells and as soon as the call was ended, Freddie let out a happy scream that had John and Roger scrambling into the bathroom, worried he had gotten hurt in any way. 

+++

Brian was visible nervous when he entered the studio. Freddie jumped to his feet to greet him with a hug, hoping it would calm him down a little bit. 

    “Hello, darling! Thank you for coming.”

Freddie had made sure that except him, John and Roger only his assistant Phoebe was present so Brian would feel not as uncomfortable about the whole thing. He showed him the room they would be taking photos in was and the dressing room, filled with various of clothes. It wasn’t anything of his new designs- he hadn’t gotten to actually making anything of it even though he itched to do so- but it were things he really wanted to see on Brian. 

    “John will be taking your pictures today. Rog and I are here to give you pointers since you never modeled before.” He went through a rack of clothing, picking the parts for his first outfit as he kept explaining how things were working around here. “If you need anything else, let Phoebe know, he’ll take care of it.” 

He put the clothes he picked out on a seperate rack, then smiled at Brian again and patted his shoulder as he passed him to leave the room. 

    “Let us know when you’re done so I can do your make-up.” 

As soon as the door closed behind him, Freddie let out a happy squeal. He caught Roger’s and John’s eyes across the room and hurried over to kiss them. John, busy with setting up the camera, accepted the kiss and then went back to his work but Roger tugged him closer, gently nibbling on Freddie’s lower lip, only pulling away when there were footsteps coming towards them. 

It was Brian, now dressed in a dark green shirt and a thin blouson with silver floral embroidery, along with black skinny jeans and dark, heavy boots. Freddie clapped excitedly. 

    “Oh, don’t you just look dashing, dear! Sit down, let’s do your make-up.” 

He kept the make-up simple, just added some eyeliner and silver eyeshadow to his face before declaring him ready for work. 

They had arranged a small set with a bench in front of a white background along with several props and decorations but Freddie had wanted to keep it simple at first. He and Roger both showed Brian a couple of poses he should try before stepping to the side and letting John take over. 

Brian was stiff and unsure at the beginning and John had to give him many instructions to get a good picture and more than once, Roger and Freddie had to help him to find a good pose. After a while he got the hang out of it and relaxed a little bit. It was still obvious he wasn’t very experienced with the whole thing but Freddie was thrilled. 

    “Do you have a good pic, Deaky?” 

    “A couple, yes. Next outfit?”

    “Next outfit!” 

Brian went through eleven outfits, some more eccentric, others more toned down and Freddie could barely contain his excitement on seeing him wear the sheer lace blouse and the white flare pants. He had had doubts whether or not Brian would be willing to wear it- or the ankle-length metallic chiffon skirt- but he had put it on without and complaint and even looked comfortable in it. 

All three found themselves staring more than once, admiring Brian’s long legs and elegant features and after he had left, Freddie found himself sandwiched between John and Roger, John capturing his lips in a passionate kiss while Roger rucked up his shirt, sucking a mark into his neck. Faintly, he could hear Phoebe bid his farewell, unbothered by them. 

    “You want him.” John growled against his mouth.

Freddie whined and nodded, pulling him closer by the shirt, groaning when he slid his thigh between his legs and let him grind up against it. Roger flicked his nipple and nipped at his earlobe. 

    “Fuck, he looked so pretty, didn’t he?” Roger whispered. “When he wore the all white outfit? Wanted to bend him over the bench and make him scream.” 

He gently scratched over Freddie’s stomach and chuckled lowly when he twitched and moaned. John kissed him over Freddie’s shoulder, one hand tangled into his blond hair. 

Later, when Freddie was putting his pants back on, his hair dishevelled and dark marks on his neck and shoulders, he got a text message. 

Thank you for the opportunity, I had a lot of fun today! Let me know if you are interested in repeating this -Bri

Freddie grinned and looked back to his boyfriends who were trading lazy kisses instead of getting dressed, a warm feeling blooming in his chest. 

Of course, darling! I’ll call you when I have the new designs ready! Can’t wait to see you in them ;)

[blackholeofprocrastination]

For my @asoiafrarepairs Secret Santa @oberynmartell.

I’m sorry this is so bonkers late!!! December just got away from me this year! We were paired together for our mutual House Martell love (woo), so I thought I take a stab at a seasonal happy ending for Elia. I hope you like it and have an awesome 2019! :)

Merry and Bright(Smile) 🎁

As far as holiday celebrations go, the Citadel University Hospital Staff Christmas Party is one of the more staid events on Rhaenys’ social calendar. This year, however, things are different. This year she has a very special date. Or at least she had a special date until said date disappeared in a flurry of waiters carrying trays of passed hors d'oeuvres.

Rhaenys sighs as she squints into the dimly lit cloakroom. It’s the fourth door she’s checked and she nearly turns back around, until she spots a flash of gold towards the far wall. Sure enough, there, hidden amongst the wool and tweed and fur hanging in nice orderly rows, is her mother.

“Mom? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart!” Elia laughs a little too brightly, waving off Rhaenys’ concern. She’s perched on a low stool, a glass of champagne clenched tightly in her hand. “I just needed some air.”

How one is supposed to get air in a stuffy cloakroom, Rhaenys is skeptical, but she doesn’t push.

Tonight was supposed to be fun. A chance not only for Rhaenys to show off her accomplished, elegant mother to all of her colleagues, but also for Elia to revisit her alma mater and the familiar faces she left behind when she started her practice in Kings Landing. Looking at her mother now, peaked and anxiously tucked away behind a row of coats, Rhaenys can’t help but think that tonight was only a mistake.

“Come on,” she says at last, offering her mother a hand up from her seat. “I could use some air too.” 

They head to an all-night diner by the wharf. The place is nothing special, but it’s kept Rhaneys in coffee on many a late night spent cramming for exams and then later coming off double shifts at the hospital. The staff’s not pushy about making her leave when she’s lingered in her booth with paperwork scattered around and her sixth cup of coffee forgotten and cold at her elbow. They don’t even bat an eye when Rhae and her mom walk in, sliding across the cheap vinyl seats of a booth in their green velvets and red floral silks. Over slices of blueberry pie topped with vanilla bean ice cream, the truth comes out.

“So all of this just to hide from an ex?”

Rhaenys knew that her mother had a life before meeting her father. Divorce and time had killed any little girl notions she might have held about a fairytale romance between her parents. Still, it’s strange to think that there could have been someone else.

“I wasn’t hiding!” her mother is quick to defend, focusing on stirring cream into her coffee. “And Baelor wasn’t…he isn’t…we were never together. Not properly.”

“But you wanted to be,” Rhaenys urges, trying to understand.

Elia sighs.

“We were in medical school together,” she says, stabbing out a bite of pie with her fork. “I was young. And I was unkind.”

Rhaenys stares at her mother incredulously from across the table. Whatever faults may be laid at Elia’s feet, unkindness could never be one of them. 

Elia won’t say more on the subject and so they finish their pie to the soft sounds of tables being cleared and Bing Crosby warbling “White Christmas” on the grainy diner speakers. 

The next morning, after seeing three patients and getting into a rather heated debate in the breakroom with some of the other residents over who finished the last of the coffee, Rhaenys conducts some very necessary internet research.

Dr. Baelor Hightower 59 Widower Father of two Senior partner at Hightower Obstetrics

Rhaenys spends the better part of an hour scrolling meticulously through the man’s Facebook page, on the lookout for red flags. Other than a photo in which the man is surrounded by a sea of pretty blondes (sisters it turns out...six of them) there are no red flags to be found. It’s like he was cut out of the pages of a Decent Dudes catalog, completing the package with somewhat greying good looks and an annoying wealth of adorable pictures with his newborn granddaughter.

Rhaenys hesitates a moment, her cursor hovering over a freshly opened email window. 

She could message Uncle Oberyn. 

He’s got all sorts of connections. She’s sure with his help she could run a full background check, really investigate for any skeletons in the closet (and maybe get to the bottom of what happened between her mother and Baelor Hightower 30 years ago). 

What Rhaenys does is so much worse. 

“I don’t know how I feel about you pimping Mom off like this.” Aegon scowls at her from the open Skype window on her computer. His face is half-hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and he’s wearing the type of garishly patterned tropical shirts made popular by dads on vacation everywhere. 

Rhaenys fights the urge to roll her eyes, and instead focuses on finishing the topcoat on her nails. As much as she misses her idiot brother, it’s probably for the best he decided to spend the holiday with Dad on his yacht in the Summer Isles. 

“It’s just a coffee date.” One that took no small amount of coaxing for Rhaenys to arrange.

“What do we even know about this guy? He could be the Sandstone Strangler, for all we know?”

“Or he could be a perfectly nice man!”

Aegon grumbles under his breath. 

“Do I look alright?” 

Elia interrupts them, hovering nervously in the threshold of Rhaenys’ tiny apartment kitchen. She’s wearing a plum colored wrap dress and a pair of knee-high black suede boots Rhaenys had insisted she borrow for the occasion. As a teenager, Rhaenys had been an unrepentant thief in her mother’s closet, poaching the perfect bag for a night out or the right earrings or wrap for a date. It’s a strange role reversal, but a welcome one just the same. 

Rhaenys lets out a low appreciative whistle.

“You look beautiful.”

Rhaenys and Elia share a smile. 

“Put some pepper spray in your purse!” Aegon’s voice calls out from her laptop speakers. “And wear a sweater!”

Elia laughs before pressing a quick kiss to Rhaenys’ temple and grabbing her coat.

“I’m off!” She waves cheerily over her shoulder. “Be back soon!”

Soon, it turns out, actually means ten hours later.

Rhaenys is eyeballs deep into a Real Housewives of Gulltown binge, the coffee table in front of the couch littered with Pentoshi takeaway containers, when Elia opens the apartment door. 

It’s only midnight. Too soon for the words ‘walk of shame’ to be bandied about, and yet, the hallmarks are all there. The hurriedly pinned up hair. The slightly rumpled dress. The goofy grin. 

“And what kind of hour do you call this, young lady?” Rhaenys deadpans. Elia’s smile slips a little.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

Rhaenys shrugs it off. She hadn’t minded. Much. (True, there had been a moment when a small, stupid part of her listened to Aegon and worried their mother’s organs were being harvested but good sense won out in the end).

“Did you have a nice time?”

The smile is back, brighter than before.

“Yes.”

It’s been a long time since she’s seen her mother this happy. Rhaenys can’t help but smile back just as brightly. 

“Good.”

[superwolfiestar]

Date(Gravesbeaks one shot fanfic)

“Why am I wearing this?”

“For a thousand time Mark, this is how people dress in the UK.”

Falcon sigh again as he whispered to his plus one and his boyfriend, Mark Beak, in the chapel. He have received a invitation to his older brother wedding in the UK. And the invitation has say to bring one plus. So he decided to ask Mark out if he would like to to his older brother wedding and of course, Mark said yes. They decided to took Mark private jet plane to the UK which is a eleven hours long flight to get there. They decided to stay there for two weeks and after the wedding, they will come back.

“And what with a weird and silly hats these women are wearing?” Mark whispered to him as he look at a woman with a hat on her head in front of him. Falcon sigh again as he roll his eyes. “Those are fascinator Mark. Women do wear them to special occasions.” Falcon reply. “UK Women do wear different than American women.” Mark stated.

They’re at the chapel which is decorated with Christmas stuffs since the theme is Christmas as they both wearing a mourning suit. Mark wore a light blue, double breasted waistcoat which is complimented by a baby pink tie and pin. The striped trouser is tailored with a looser fit and is finished off with a classic morning coat. Falcon also wore grey double breasted waistcoat, which is complimented by a gold pocket chain. Falcon's trousers are tailored to a slim fit cut.

Mark have no idea why did they dress like this than they dress back home but he got his answer from his boyfriend. This is how people in the UK dress for special occasions. And women do wear day evening dresses with funny and weird fascinator on their head as Falcon call them. Then, they heard a children voice as Mark turn his head around and saw a cute adorable children in their cute formal outfit.

All the little girls wore red short sleeves and a double green silk ribbon at the waist, tied in a bow at the back. A ballet pumps on their feets and a floral crown on their head, and little boys were dress in white double-breasted style cotton shirt is worn tucked in the red velvet shorts and two hidden buttons situated around the waist, Matching piping around the collar and cuffs and white stocking and black shoes on their feets.

Mark also notice a woman who have the round felt base is covered with satin ribbon loops, adorned with flighty feathers and topped off with a birdcage veil on her head, wore a crepe and red lace dress with a gold pleated skirt, appliqued bodice and length sleeves. Dress comes with a matching mikado jacket. It look like she’s trying to control the flower girls and page boys by “shhhhh” at them and try to get them to behave.

“That’s my little sister over there,” said Falcon as he look at them. “Which one? The little one?” Mark ask as he is guessing that one of the little girls must be his little sister, but he don’t know which one. “Well, the most of the little ones are my cousins and other are a friends of my mother. That woman over there who is trying to control the children is my little sister.” Falcon smile as he pointed at her. His sister notice him as she give her older brother a smile and a small wave as Falcon wave her back.

Mark look in the front, he can see Mark older brother stood in the altar with his groomsmen by his side. He can see a tearful happy mother of the groom sitting right beside Falcon. But he began to wonder, where is the father of the groom anyway. Maybe he will be arrive later during the ceremony or at the reception? But he decided to not to question as he began to heard a bridal march playing from the organ as they all began to stand up from their seats.

Later that evening, at the reception which held at Falcon family ground. Mark and Falcon are having a wonderful time at the reception. They eat foods and dance on the dance floor. Mark was greeted by Falcon mother, siblings, aunts, uncles, and other families members he was introduced. But, he didn’t meet Falcon father. He look everywhere in the reception to see if someone in the reception look similar to his boyfriend but he didn’t find him.

He walk forward to Falcon who was sitting and drinking. “Falcon,” he began to said nervously. “I have meet all your family members, they are pretty happy to meet me. It seem you told them about me huh?” Mark raise his eyebrows and smirk. “Yeah,” Falcon smile as he sallow the wine. “I did told them about you.” He put him arms around his boyfriend as they both kiss. “I just want my family to see how awesome my boyfriend is.” Falcon kiss Mark cheek.

“Also, I never actually met your dad, he didn’t make it to the ceremony and he’s not here at the reception, where is he?” Mark began to ask. “Is he sick?”

Falcon look at him, he sigh as he rub his back. “Well, you see.” He took a deep breath as Mark rub his leg. “My father will… let just say that… my father abandoned us after I come out of the closet.” Falcon recalled the memories of how he told his family that he’s gay. “My entire family support me, except my father. He was really mad. He yell at me and he then left, and never came back home. To this day, I still don’t know what happen to him.” Falcon told Mark a whole story.

Then, they hear women screaming coming from the dance floor as they look up to see a wedding bouquet toss into the air. Mark then caught it which meant they would be next soon.

"I guess we're next to be married." Mark said with a smile. "I guess so." Falcon replied with a smile, they laughed in happiness at that thought.

[malodorousmalcontent]

Solstice Scents Review

Man, finally getting around to writing my thoughts on my First Ever Solstice Scents Order (or two, actually.) I've had all of these for around a month now, and just because of all the other smells i've had going on, haven't really gotten around to them. But i'm taking the time now. Checkin' 'em off my LIST.

I'll be going over my experience ordering from Solstice Scents, as well as the scents Foxcroft, Snowshoe Pass, Violet Mallow, Lace Draped Spectre, Riverside Hayride, Nightgown, White Fox, and Winter Dove. Let's do it to it.

ORDERING FROM SOLSTICE SCENTS

So, not gonna lie, I put off ordering from this house mostly because of their website. I'm a graphic designer, and a bit of a branding snob, and the look of the website, not even considering the purposefully rustic theme, just the way it's built, is a little bit... Dated. Not the worst crime imaginable, but actually navigating the site made it worse: having multiple pages for the different sizes of one scent would clutter pages, not having an easily findeable scent list for their seasonal collections (if it exists, I STILL haven't found it), not knowing what was Just Seasonal and what was GC because of how they'll do limited seasonal releases of GC scents in normally unavailable sizes or formats... It was all very confusing. Their photography is nice, though, I'll give them that. Goes with the general look of the brand well. (And that's not like, subtle shade - I know the difference between a purposefully down-to-earth design, and something lookin' dated. Their purposeful branding, in a general sense, is not dated.)

Placed my order. The drop-down list for available free samples was handy. I wish they mentioned that, if it's your first order, you can ask for an additional free sample - I only knew about that practice from a different review.

TAT was pretty dang fast - a couple days and it was coming my way. The greatest delight, aside from the scents themselves, was their packaging: It's fantastic. A far cry from my complaints about their website. Their designs look good, the cards that came with the order were lovely, I love the little CD-case-type thing that the samples come in, and when I later placed a second order for a 5ml of Winter Dove, I loved the box it came in, too. Love the scent names in that snappy handwriting... It was just, good. Was nice getting actual designed packaging, rather than just bottles wrapped in bubble wrap or in a plain box. Very professional. No leaks. No issues. A good, clean-cut order.

(Additionally, when I did my second order and Lace Draped Spectre was still available on their free sample dropdown, even though it was sold out and wasn't going to be restocked anymore for the season, they still honored it. Which. Hell yeah.)

Overall, very positive experiences! Onto the scents.

--

FOXCROFT (PERFUME OIL) || Decaying Leaves, Rich Black Soil, Dry Leaves, Fall Air, Woods, Chimney Smoke.

I put this on, and the very first note I get hit with, without even looking at the notes, is sweet smoke. The first time I ever tried this, that smoke straight-up went BBQ-y for the first five minutes of wear, but it doesn't do that anymore - it's just... Very strong woodsmoke with a hint of sweetness. The smoke fades after just a few minutes, and I start getting the other atmospheric notes: A woody note that smells fresh and sap-sticky, like a newly splintered evergreen branch; dry fall leaves that smell so realistic that I can picture picking them up and crunching them in my hand; the emptiness of cool fall air; and damp earth from a rainstorm that happened the other day. The smoke's still there, kind of encompassing everything, but it's much lighter now.

And... Looking at the notes, I guess that's literally everything that's in it! Dang. Talk about a scent being dead-on. On the dry-down, this takes on a warm, almost... Maple-y quality? Like slightly burnt maple leaves. I like it. It's really cozy.

This wears a bit close to the skin on me without actually being light, but lasts for a pretty long time - a few hours in and even after scrubbing it from my wrist with dish soap, i'm still smelling earth and decaying leaves.

tl;dr: a very realistic fall atmospheric with woody, dry leaf, and damp earth nuances and a nice swirl of smoke. Dries down to a maple-like sweetness.

RATING: 5/5. A really beautiful atmospheric. I'm not really interested in smelling like it, but it's objectively very well made.

--

SNOWSHOE PASS (PERFUME OIL) || White Amber, White Musk, Vanilla Accord, Peppermint Cream, Cold Winds.

Mmmm. Mmmm. This smells absolutely tasty. The vanilla accord is rich and exceptionally creamy, with a super true-to-life vanilla extract smell. The peppermint cream blends well with it - it's hard to detect, but gives a slight minty edge to the vanilla. My roommate, from a distance, says it smells like cooked brownies. I don't necessarily agree--it doesn't strike me as chocolatey in the least--but I could see how someone might think that. It might be thanks to the amber - i've noticed some ambers can read a bit chocolate-like.

Admittedly, the cold winds note is kinda gone at this point - it was very present when I first got the sample, but now, I don't really get anything that hits my nose as particularly chilly.

This wears pretty strongly on my wrist, doesn't fade quickly, and obviously has some good sillage if my roommate is smelling it from like, 3-4 feet away.

tl;dr: True to life foody, creamy, rich vanilla with a hint of mintiness.

RATING: 4/5. I wish the white amber and white musk were a bit more detectable to me, and that the cold wind note hadn't vanished. Even so, this is a really delicious, rich vanilla scent.

--

VIOLET MALLOW (PERFUME OIL) || Marshmallow Cream, Violet Flowers, Vanilla Bean, White Musk.

This one's easy. It smells ex act ly like a cabbage patch doll's face - that floral-vanilla slightly rubbery scent. Sometimes Solstice Scents' vanilla note will have a bit of that rubbery quality for me, and the violets in this, rather than just living on their own in their signature Purple Burp smell, blends well and amps up the cabbage patch kids smell. Which is great for me, because i've been dying for a perfume that smells like it - I actually asked for this one as my free sample because people had been saying it smells like that. And it does. Spot on.

Wears strong on my wrist, with sillage of like a foot or two when wet, then maybe 6 inches or so when dry.

tl;dr: Cabbage Patch doll!

RATING: 4/5. Kinda simple, but fills a very specific desire in me. I don't even know if i'll wear it that much, but I loooove just having this smell on hand whenever I wanna whiff it. Plus, even if the vanilla/marshmallow is a bit rubbery, I love a violet scent where the violets don't smell bad.

--

LACE DRAPED SPECTRE - REFORMULATED (PERFUME OIL) || Vanilla Musk, Spicy Pink Carnation, Pink Pepper, Rose, White Musk.

This... This grew on me so fast, and is now one of my favorite perfumes. Holy shit. This is just so, so good.

When I first tried it out, I took one whiff and went, 'oh! So THAT'S what a carnation smells like!' I was familiar with the smell of carnations, but had never really matched the smell to the flower, but this was so dead-on that there's really just no mistaking it. The connection was made instantly. It's a green, dewy, velvety, heady, smooth, non-powdery, lush-smelling flower, with just a hint of a spicy kick to it - which i'm sure is amped up by the pink pepper. The vanilla musk amps up that delicious carnation and makes the scent a bit humid and sweet. That's about all I can really, for-sure detect in this... But, god, I don't think it NEEDS anything else. It's SO GOOD.

Got HELLA sillage and HELLA longevity - I put this on and can smell it all day. God. I have two 1mls of it and I hope they last me 'til fall. Seriously, it's so good.

tl;dr: A fantastic, realistic carnation note, amped by vanilla musk and with a kick of pink pepper.

RATING: 6/5. This is a holy grail scent, bay-bee. I've had some good florals since, but this was the first good floral. This is the one that changed my mind about florals.

--

RIVERSIDE HAYRIDE (PERFUME OIL) || Moist Dirt, White Carnations, Fallen Leaves, Bare Branches, Hay & a Hint of Pressed Apples Carried on the Breeze from Corvin's Apple Orchard.

I put this on, and before I can even close the sample vial, I get hit with this wave of spiced, dried, tart apples - but that gets subtler after only 10, 15 minutes of wear. What I smell at the top at that point is a very subtle, velvety carnation - not nearly as lush as the carnation note in lace-draped, it's more like... If a bed of carnations was a few feet away. It also smells pretty wet, with a notable cool air note, and some damp green-ness. At this point, the apples are so subtle that they're at the bottom of the scent, just a soft sweetness with an edge of tart, very realistic for a dried apple scent, and I can't smell the spices anymore.

Sometimes I also pick up a weird sourness that isn't the apples, and almost smells... Milky? Like milk that's kinda nearing its expiry date and you're not really sure if it's bad or not. I don't get it all the time, and it's not bad enough to ruin the scent, but it's there. Looking at the notes, I think that sour smell is actually the hay.

On the dry-down, that hay gets stronger, and basically all i'm getting is the hay and maybe a hint of the apple. If you like hay, this would be good for you. The last note I can detect before it disappears is tart green apple. Despite not having a lot of sillage, apart from that first wave of apple, this wears VERY strongly on my wrist.

tl;dr: A velvety floral atmospheric with touches of cool air, green-ness, and an ample helping of dried apples, that dries down to strong hay and faint apple.

RATING: 3.5/5. Well made, but I could do without that strong hay note. I say. About a scent with 'hayride' in the name. Guess that's what I get.

--

NIGHTGOWN (PERFUME OIL) || Vanilla, White Chocolate, Tuberose & Tiare Flowers.

This is lovely - I actually like it more than I thought I would, since i'm really not into chocolate notes, even white chocolate, and white florals generally aren't my thing. But this blends beautifully: the tuberose and tiare are soft and delicate without smelling soapy or indolic like so many white florals can, and the white chocolate and vanilla round it out, balance the floral qualities, and give the scent some depth. It's really lovely - i've worn it to bed a couple times, so I guess the name 'nightgown' fits.

Dries down to stronger vanilla and realistic white chocolate with a light floral edge. Very elegant and creamy. Wears close to the skin for a few hours before it begins to fade.

tl;dr: Soft, delicate white flowers balanced by gentle, creamy sweet notes of white chocolate and vanilla, the latter taking over on the dry-down.

RATING: 5/5. Another one I probably won't wear a lot, but it's objectively beautiful. Solstice Scents REALLY can do no wrong with florals, i'm beginning to feel like.

--

WHITE FOX (PERFUME OIL) || Vanilla Musk, White Fur, Woods, Snow Laced With a Vein of Dirt.

So, reading reviews of White Fox, it seemed to be pretty hit or miss. Half the time, it was a beautiful vanilla scent with atmospheric notes; the other half, burning plastic. I wasn't sure what I would get, but I was willing to take the risk.

What I ultimately get is plasticky vanilla. Not the worst, but, uh, not the best, either. I get something very minty, too, even though peppermint isn't a note in this (maybe it's the woods note, some evergreens), and it makes that plasticky vanilla almost... Burning. Chemical-y. It mellows out some with wear, though: the burniness goes away, and the vanilla becomes less plastic (but not totally un-plastic) and more soft and fuzzy, so, decently wearable. The fur and dirt are distinguishable in this, too, and round out the sweet notes well.

Dries down to a subtle vanilla musk sitting underneath some really notable dirt, and finally, before it fades, become simply dirt and fur. Lasts for a good handful of hours, and has some good sillage while wet.

tl;dr: Burning plastic kinda medicinal smelling vanilla that mellows out to a softer, fuzzier vanilla, rounded out by dirt and fur.

RATING: 3/5. I'm honestly debating rating this a bit lower, because it starts out so bleh, but with wear it's okay. ...But just okay.

--

WINTER DOVE (PERFUME OIL) || Vanilla Crystals, Spicy Carnation, Nutmeg, Cream.

Man, this is such good shit. It's not LDS, but by god, it'll do.

For the first, like, 5 minutes, I get straight eggnog from the nutmeg and cream, and then it just becomes this beautiful, rich, creamy carnation note. The carnation's pretty spicy, but more than that, it's velvety, softly floral and green and fresh as hell. Smells real, as SS' carnation note tends to. The sugar crystals give this just a touch of sweetness, and honestly, I don't get the nutmeg as much after those first 5 minutes. It's a soft, rich, delicate scent - definitely would call this LDS' more feminine cousin. On the dry-down, the carnation fades, and the scent becomes much more creamy and foody-sweet without necessarily going back to eggnog.

Has a lot of sillage - i've gotten reports of other people smelling it real well when I walk past. (Notably, my sister said it smelled like a headshop, which kinda surprised me. I think it must'a been the spice in the carnation.) Lasts for a good handful of hours, too.

tl;dr: Eggnog, briefly, and then a sweet and creamy lush carnation scent, and then, on the drydown, creamy sweetness.

RATING: 5/5. Blind bought a 5ml for this because I didn't think I could live without Solstice Scents' carnation note, and I have no regrets.

--

So, final thoughts: I really, really love this house. Their florals are killer, their scents are rich and long-lasting, and at the very worst, they might go a little rubbery or maybe a little potpourri-ish, but there's nothing in this that was out-and-out awful or came across poorly made. Gonna be buying from them again, most definitely.

[the-canary]

Pastel Colors - B.B (4/15)

Summary: If only the cute teacher would stop pestering you for a pen.(Library/Teacher AU! Reader/Bucky Barnes)

Prompt: you’re always asking me for a pencil because for some damn reason you don’t know that there is a whole store for stationary—happy birthday here’s a gift card to that store. wait, you work there? what the hell?

Word Count: 2414

Masterlist

A/N: This is for @bithors writing challenge. i finally get to introduce the fav stationery place and where this story is going, i really love this chapter so enjoy!

Feedback is always appreciated.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Saturday.

“Becca, do you have any more erasable ink pens?” you question coming up the aisle as the young women behind the counter-top thinks for a moment. The skin around her blue eyes crinkling for a moment in though, as her pixie blue hair sways back and forth for a moment.

“In pairs no, but singles should be a little ways back,” she answers pointing to the other side of the story, as you turn and give her a grateful smile. B’s Stationery had been your go-to place for for pens and other such things since you had moved to New York City 5 years ago, and while it was a trip away from your current studio apartment, you always made the trip to Brooklyn on the weekends. The owner, Rebecca Protractor, picked up the shop after her parents retired down to Florida and she continued it as a little extra side income for her and her husband, William, who worked as  sous-chef. She considered you one of her prized customers and even a friend who had unusual attachment to pens and others writing utensils.

“Didn’t you buy pair just last week?” She questions, as you stand next to the counter, eyeing the letter sets and flash drives on display. Neither you nor Wanda had sent a care package to Pietro in awhile, as he roamed throughout Australia as part of his job’s current project.

“The man I told you about last week,” you pause and place a blue and white tropical floral set next to the rest of the items you were going to buy, “He took the black pen and it just feels…”

“...Incomplete,” Rebecca finishes since she already knows what you are going to say. You give her a timid smile, knowing that she doesn’t mean any harm, though you are still a little weary of people knowing too much about you, it usually didn’t end well and all this collecting of stationery was your own coping mechanism but only Rebecca, Wanda, and Pietro knew that.

“No harm, my older brother is kinda like that too,” you quirked an eyebrow at the sudden mention of Rebecca’s older brother. You didn’t know if they were close or not and she didn’t mention him very often as her younger sisters, though when she did it was usually in either pride (he was an accomplished physicist that was once in the NASA program) or anger (he had dropped out of said program and moved back home after his fiancee broke up the engagement).  

“He collects pens too?” you ask, as you pick up your bag as she laughs, before suddenly lighting up with a bright smile on her face like she just had the world’s greatest idea. You try to take few steps back, but she’s already grabbing your wrist stopping your escape.

“I know it’s been awhile, but maybe I can set you guys up,” she smiles at the idea as you frown, “He’s a bit of a nerd, but I’m sure you’d hit it off great!”

“I don’t know…” you murmur, “That teacher wants to meet during weekends since we are both free at that time rather than school hours when he’s busy.”

“Just think about it, ‘kay?” she gives you that smile that you just can’t say no to, and nod your head slightly.

“I’ll think about it, promise.” is all you say as you wave goodbye until next weekend, though you are bit more unsure of coming back now that Rebecca had a certain idea in mind because she was stubborn as a mule when she did.

Sunday.

“So, it’s not a date?” Wanda questions you with Matcha at her side, as you look at the outfit in her full-length mirror. The weather was calling for more fall clothing, so you had decides to wear a long blue knitted sweater with a long-sleeve and jeans. Your friend had given you her approval and so had the true owner of your apartment with a long meow. Though, all your nerves seems to give your old friend the wrong idea.

“No, Wan. It’s not a date, it’s a meeting about the project,” you explain as you grab your bag and double check that you have all your papers, planner, and pencil case once more. She shakes her head as she give the black and white cat a few tummy rubs, Matcha had clearly always liked Wanda more than you.

“I mean..you never know,”she raises her eyebrows in that not-so subtle way, as you let out a groan and hit her with the nearest pillow, clearly not thinking of Mr. Barnes that way.

“I think the guy has to like you first,” you explain, clearly remembering your latest meeting with him, “I think Mr. Barnes thinks I’m pretty incompetent.”

“What the hell do you mean?” Wanda exclaims, causing Matcha to jump out of the bed with an annoyed sound coming out of her mouth. You shake your head, and go about explaining what had happened after the last meeting.

You’re getting ready to leave after all the teachers are done talking with each other when you see Mr. Barnes take the sit right next to you. There’s a frown on his face, as he start drumming one of your pens on desk like a drum. You look at him for a moment, unsure of what he was to say or if he’s here to steal another one of your precious items. He shakes his head slightly before speaking.

“Look, since we’re working as a team now. Maybe we should meet up, so we’re on the same page about all this. So no mistakes are made,” he sighs out the last part like he’s speaking to a child, and you can’t help but feel a little angry. From the corner of your eyes, you can see Natasha watching one as well.

“Sure, what do you have in mind?” you give him your most professional smile, as he goes on about meeting during the weekend since the rest of his week is filled with after school tutoring and Astronomy Club activities, so that you can hash out the finer details of what you both have in mind moving forward.

You are agree, but you not going to be thought of so lowly of if this is a partnership.

“Well, clearly that ass doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Wanda shakes her head as she gives you a small smile,”Just you wait, you’ll be driving him crazy in no time.”

“Wan, stop. You’re embarrassing me.”

It’s close to 3 in the afternoon when you get off the train and set off to a small cafe not that far from the school to meet him. He’s sitting outside with a cup and sandwich on his right and a stake of books on his left, he’s too engrossed in whatever he’s reading to notice you coming up to him. He runs a hand through his brown locks in what seems like agitation, though you can help but notice that he looks nice brown leather jacket and green shirt. You place your bag down on the table, which causes him to jolt from his seat just a little.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Barnes,” blue eyes look at you  for a moment, as if trying to process that you are standing right in front of him, as you give him a tight-lipped smile. When he finally gets it, he starts moving some of his books away, and giving you a bit more space to finally seat down.  

“James is fine,” he replies while putting a set of books down onto the floor, most people don’t seemed bothered by it and you wonder if he does it often in this particular cafe. You’re get caught up looking at the decor of the outside, a semi-shaded area with mostly wooden tables and chairs that gave it that cottage in the city feel, while through the large window you could see at least three bookshelves, which definitely caught your attention. You feel like going inside, but maybe for another time

“I’m sorry. W-What?” you ask for clarification on the statement you certainly missed.

“You can call me James. Mr. Barnes seems a little strange outside of school,” he explains, as you nod before saying the same about your own name. He gets something from his bag and hands it you, saying that’s it’s his proposal, if you wanted to look over it before talking about and future goals. You nod and smile, taking out a plastic bag full of highlighters before taking about a folder and handing it to him.

“What's this?” he looks at the folder before opening and you wiggle in your seat with a smile on your face hoping that the last three days of researching with Natasha and skyping with Pietro over his own field of study were worth it for the confused look on Mr. Barnes, -- no James’ face.

“It’s my own original proposal to Mrs. Potts-Stark and my notes on your own,” you declare, but instead of confusion like you expected, there is an excited smile on his face as he puts on his glasses and takes out one of those multi-colored pens. You glare a bit at the unknowing object, briefly wondering where your own missing pens could be.

It takes the both of you a good hour to go through both documents and throughout you found yourself glancing at the physics teacher’s face wondering what he was thinking as he changed from black to red and then blue ink. However, once or twice you caught an excited smile on his face and you felt your chest flutter with pride, you didn’t know why you wanted to impress him so badly, but you hoped that it was working. By the time, you were both done you had ordered a sandwich with a latte and Mr. Barnes was going through his 3rd couple of coffee.

“You really did your research,” James lets out in breathless excitement over everything he had read, while taking off his glasses, “Some of these are great ideas! It’s just really exciting, ya know?”

“I know,” you smile back behind your floral pattern cup, as he starts explaining what he wants to do with his classes and clubs, integrating the library after winter break at least once a week once the VR tech has been setup. You nod and suggest background research to be integrated into some of the latter courses after testing, so that they can get used to working with the tech and know of its history for a deeper appreciation of the whole experience. Once you’re done taking notes on the discussion, you finds yourself talking his Astronomy Club and how he got into physics, and you quickly learn that James has been a nerd -quite the handsome one- his whole life.  

“So, why did you choose Library Studies as your field?” he questions with curious blue eyes that seems to sparkle gray for a moment under the fairylights surrounding the cafe.

“Mmm...as long as I can remember I’ve always been stuck in the library,” you reply and play with your pen, “The library was like free daycare for my mom, I just couldn’t separate myself from it, still can’t I guess.”

James hums at your answer but say nothing about the loneliness he seems to pick up behind your explanation, instead steering it into another direction, “Then, why don’t you make it more fun? It’s your place, make a Library or Literature Club.”

“I’ve never really thought of it that way,” you remark, remembering that there was really a club beforehand because Mr. Philips’ enjoyed the solitude of the library more than the children towards the end of his career, without a proper say in you didn’t really have a choice but to follow what he said. You sort of continued that after he left, it was only now that it seemed like a good idea.

“I’m sure Mrs. P would approve, she sort of loves you,” he explains with a light grin on his face at the mention of the new principal, and even though you want to correct him on that train of thought, because you saw Mrs. Potts-Stark as nothing but a fair and honest person, you knew that her excitement over the library sort went above everything else if need be.

“Hmm...I’ll think about it,” you admit softly and all James does is nod eagerly like he’s already won.

He seems to be ready to say something else when the familiar sound of David Bowie’s Space Oddity rings between the both of you. You look around for a moment because that isn’t your cell phone melody, but it’s his and you can’t help but laugh as he gives you an embarrassed smile and shakes his head. God, he really was a space nerd! James goes to answering the message he had received, though there is a serious look on his face before he goes back to paying attention to looking at you.    

“I have to go,” he sighs, though Barnes seems unwilling to get up. It causes you to look at him for a moment as he rubs the back of his neck, “I have a double date with Steve and his girlfriend, Peggy.”

“Oh,” is all you can say, as he gives you a disappointed smile, “I guessing you don’t want to go.”

“No, it’s been awhile,” he explains and he looks at you with expectant blue eyes, as if you’re going to ask something else, but you just nod your head since you understand a little of where he’s coming from. He grips and releases his right hand in anxiety, as you slightly tap his palm with your pen. He’s looking at you, but you’re too engrossed with tapping his palm.

“You shouldn’t worried. You seem all right,” you explain without noticing how your words are affecting him, “I am sure you can show anyone a nice time... I mean this was fun .”

“Yeah?” his breathe hitches for a bit, though you don’t seem to catch it.

“Of course, James. I wouldn’t lie.”

It’s another ten minutes of silence before James decides to leave, so that he doesn’t run late and you say goodbye with a small wave before going your own way, completely unsure of the warm feeling building in your heart at the sight of his nervous smile is, but with a familiar black pen in your hand you hope his date goes well.  

Part 5

[andersoncharm]

Carve Your Name Into My Bed Post.//Seblaine Para.

Pairing: Seblaine.

When: Saturday, June 30. Evening.

Location: Snowed-In Cafe/Sebastian’s Cambridge Apartment.

Notes/Warnings: Smut.

Rating: NC-17

Blaine:

Blaine was just about to say goodbye to Quinn for the evening when he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He smiled and nodded his farewell so as not to be rude as he checked his phone. 5:46 pm flashed across the screen along with a text from Sebastian saying he’d be there in ten. Blaine’s nerves jumped at the words on his screen, a nervous giddiness rolling though the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he sent a text back asking what Sebastian wanted to drink. Within seconds he had his answer: medium black iced tea with simple syrup. He turned back around to Quinn to make his new order.. He smiled once again and thanked her, making sure to leave her a tip, telling her he’d see her around before he stepped out into the heat again.

He made his way over to one of the little bistro tables in front of the coffee shop and  sat down as he waited. His eyes scanning the road in vain looking for Sebastian’s car. It took him a whole minute to realize that he had zero clue what the other man drove. In his excitement this morning he had completely forgotten to ask. With a sigh he took a sip of his hot tea more for something to do with his hands than out of thirst. His other hand gripped the coldness of Sebastian's iced tea the contrast between the drinks causing him a slight shiver. He pulled his hands away and sat them lightly in his lap, trying his hardest not to look like a lost puppy as he waited. Every car that slowed near him sent a little thrill through him and caused him to second guess everything. His clothing; dark jeans, a tightly fitted red collared shirt, black and white Sperry top-sider boat shoes and his clear quartz tucked safely inside his shirt. He second guessed the crystal, wondering if Sebastian would see it and automatically know he was a little bit different. Plenty of people practiced with crystals is what he told himself and now he wasn’t so sure. He even second guessed his signature custom oil he’d decided to dab on his skin and hair. He’d mixed it himself, had been doing so since he was old enough to want to smell nice. A soft earthy and spicy mix of sandalwood, clove, sweet grass and a very mild patchouli. Normally he liked it, but now he wondered if it made him smell like what he was. A witch. Sebastian was going to be a lawyer, he probably wanted someone that smelled like some high end expensive cologne. He went to Harvard. According to his facebook he’d lived in Paris. And here Blaine was smelling like he’d just spent the day basking in incense  like one of those new age people that people rarely too seriously. Blaine wished he’d just went out and bought something nice, maybe a little bit less of himself was better.

But, it was too late for all of that now. A sleek, dark vehicle was pulling into the parking lot and slowing down in the parking lot in front of him. He couldn’t quite make out who was inside, but his body sang with the knowledge. It was Sebastian. He took in a deep breath, gathered their drinks and stood to make his way towards the car. He shifted the drinks to one arm and opened his door, mentally preparing himself before sliding into the passenger seat.

Seb:

Sebastian woke up Saturday morning with a stomach full of knots, butterflies, pins, needles, and any other cliche phrase you could think of. Tonight was the night he was meeting up with Blaine, the night he had been thinking about every day since he asked. Sebastian had a list of things he needed to do in preparation, ever the procrastinator. He needed to go for a run with Enjolras, clean up, run to the pharmacy, pick out an outfit that said ”I didn’t spend an hour rummaging for this and I’m always naturally effortless”. Seb sat up, stretched, and ruffled Ras’ fur before getting out of bed. He made his pre run shake, put on his favorite blue running shorts, and stepped out into the June heat he loved with his pup in tow.

After a long run with the sun setting Sebastian’s tan skin with a satisfying blaze, he started on his errands. What felt like an hour of preparation, suddenly turned into four and he it was already five o’ clock. He Needed to meet Blaine at The Thinking Cup at 6. He really needed to get the outfit figured out and his cologne picked out (his mom bought him a different bottle of high end cologne every Christmas.) Seb settled on a white tee shirt that fit just right, hugging his biceps and chest in the perfect way to create the illusion of a little more muscle than he had, dark jeans, white slip ons, and black Ray Bans. Pomade swept through the hair, deodorant, and a few spritzes of Fucking Fabulous by Tom Ford, and we has out the door. Well, he gave Enjolras a good ruffle first and THEN was on his way in his sleek black car.

When sebastian turned down the road that the coffeehouse was on, he could see Blaine sitting at a little table. The golden evening sun lit up his curls just so, showing off just how black they were and Seb already knew that those honey eyes would be glowing in tandem. He turned down his music and slowed, approaching the curb. “Hey stranger.” Sebastian reached forward to help Blaine with the drinks. “Thanks for the tea. I’ve never had it from here before.” Small talk,really? He never planned hook-ups like this and he usually felt a lot more confident but, his stomach wouldn’t stop doing that….thing. Knots, butterflies, needles.

Sebastian cleared his throat, “How was your day? Ras is gonna be so excited to see you. Hasn’t stopped talking about you.” God. What? He was cringing on the inside, where did all the lines and sarcastic commentary go? Right outside the car door, in exchange for the intoxicating incense smell that surrounded him once Blaine entered. This was usually so much easier. A velvet smile, some compliments, a touch. Right, “You look great.” He reached over and placed his hand on Blaine’s knee, eyes on the road. Sebastian kept telling himself that this wasn’t new, he had done this over and over. Why did he have goose bumps?

Blaine:

Blaine bit his bottom lip when he saw Sebastian after getting into the car. Pictures were one thing, but seeing him again in person reaffirmed just how attracted he was to the other man. He looked incredible. The white shirt and white shoes setting his tan off just right. He also smelled incredible, a mix of sweat from the heat and a leathery soft floral scent that made Blaine want to press his nose into Sebastian’s clavicle just to breath him in better. Of course he couldn’t and didn’t but the anticipation of possibly being able to do just that later was thrilling.

“Hello to you, too.” He chucked at the use of the word stranger because they were, in fact, pretty much strangers. But it didn’t really feel that way. “We have pretty decent tea and coffee, I hope you like it.” He took a small sip of his as if that would prove it was good. “I had a decent day.” He glanced over at Sebastian still imagining what might happen later and worried his bottom lip again. “It’s much better now though.” In truth he’d spent his whole day nervous in a way he hadn’t been in a long time, but he didn’t think Sebastian needed to know that. He grinned when Sebastian mentioned the dog. “He’s been talking to you about me, huh?” He laughed. “I’m looking forward to seeing him, too though. I mean he is the reason we even met in the first place, I have to give him extra pets as a thank you.”

He wasn’t expecting it so when Sebastian laid his hand on Blaine’s knee he found it a little hard to breathe, had he even really touched Sebastian besides checking his hands? Either way the feel of his hand on his knee sent wave of want through his lower body which was almost embarrassing. It was such a simple act but at the same time it made it seem like they’ve done this before, like they hadn’t just met a few days ago. Blaine swallowed his lips curving in an almost smile at the green eyed man. “Thank you.” his voice came out slightly warbled and he cringed on the inside. “So do you.” without thinking too hard about it he slid his hand forward on his leg so that the tips of his fingers ghosted the inside of Sebastian's wrist, the simple touch leaving his fingers tingling and itching to do more. It was ridiculous, he knew it, but it didn’t matter. He watched the other man through his lashes, his eyes roaming over his  face and settling on Sebastian's lips. He found himself wondering what they’d taste like later and had to look away before he embarrassed himself further.

“So, are we going to your place then? He asked when he found his voice again as Sebastian drove his car towards a Cambridge neighborhood that he’d never really been to. His anticipation probably showing right on his face, but at this point there wasn’t any point in hiding it.

Seb:

Sebastian’s wrist sparked where Baine’s fingertips dusted his skin, sending wildfire through his veins, making a few more goosebumps pop up in their wake. He wasn’t sure he ever felt such a chemical connection with somebody else. He had been attracted to many and went home with them and had fun, for the most part. But, this seemed different in a way that scared Sebastian. The tension in the air disrupting the cool demeanor he prided himself on by a simple touch he’d usually ignore and the scent of sandalwood and tea. He found himself scrambling internally, and wanting to impress Blaine. Sebastian never worried about that, he just effortlessly….did.

Sebastian turned down a crowded block, making his way towards his apartment. “Yeah, is that okay? I figured we could just...” He squeezed Blaine’s knee, trying to keep his fingers from tracing the inseam of his denim up his inner thigh. Normally he wouldn’t care but, what if it ran him off? Were they even on the same page? They had to be right? “Start the night off with a drink a little stronger than tea.” He was going to need one to calm his nerves, he wasn’t used to his stomach feeling like it was suspended in the air. Sebastian bit his bottom lip,trying to clear his mind. This was a hook up. This wasn’t new. He was used to this.

He could feel Blaine’s ochre eyes pressing into him. Yeah, they were on the same page.

Sebastian turned down a few more streets, driving for about ten minutes before parking before his red brick apartment building. He slid out of the driver seat and made his way around to open the passenger door. “This is it.” Seb threw his arm out before the lavish antique building. He loved it, the bricks covered in tangled ivy, the thick glass windows, and the stairs leading up to a heavy door. “I’m on the second floor.” He walked in front up Blaine, up the stairs and to his apartment. Once they walked up, Enjolras started pawing at the inside of the door and whining. Seb unlocked and swung the door open, an invitation for Blaine to walk inside and greet the hyperactive dog. He walked in after the other man, “I have some vodka, beer….there may some wine. Oh, and bourbon. What would you like? I have some soda-water and cranberry juice,too. To mix.”

Blaine:

Blaine’s knee tingled through his jeans where Sebastian had squeezed, his breath caught just so before he let out slowly. It was all he could do not to squirm. It was such a simple thing, but it sent surge of heat right between his legs. All he could do was nod, eyes finding Sebastian's again as the pulled up to a brick apartment building. Old, but not in the way tha LeFay was old, not creepy but beautiful. Inviting. Thought he wasn’t sure if it was inviting because he knew that’s where Sebastian lived or because of the atmosphere. Probably a bit of both. He instantly missed the feeling of Sebastian’s hand, but he knew there’d be time for more touching later.

As he entered the huge, open apartment he noted absently how simple and sleek it was before being greeted by and overly enthusiast Enjolras. Blaine smiled instantly down at the dog and scratched behind his ears. He was genuinely happy to see the golden retriever. He guided himself and the dog over to Sebastian navy blue sectional sofa and proceeded to pet the dog as if they had known each other forever.

“Bourbon, please. Just straight Bourbon. If it’s not too much trouble could you make it a double?” he cringed at his unintentional rhyme and shook his head to himself. Sebastian probably thought he was a huge dork who’d nver been to a boys house before with the way he was acting. He knew he shouldn’t drink too much but he really felt like he needed it, his nerves were still getting the better of him. He had dont this a few times before, but he’d never felt this much all at once. The dog settled in the vacant spot to Blaine’s right, head settling on Blaine’s leg which made him smile.

He took his drink when Sebastian brought it over to him instantly taking a sip and savoring the burn. “Thank you. What are you having?” He gestured vaguely to Sebastian’s drink. “Your home is lovely by the way.” the words felt strange on his tongue, almost forced. Not the easy conversations they’d been having while texting or the way they’d talked the day they met. He knew it was because they were both a little nervous, he could feel Sebastian’s rolling off him him subtly. And it made him feel better knowing that he wasn’t alone. Slowly he scooted a little closer to the other man so that his right knee pressed against Sebastian’s thigh just a bit. The contact instantly making him feel dizzy with want. Again, it was almost embarrassing but he didn’t move away.

Seb:

Sebastian slipped into the kitchen while Blaine and Enjolras headed for the couch. He liked that his dog enjoyed the other man so much. Ras liked,well, basically everybody he met but, he seemed to respond more to Blaine, constantly trying to get closer to him and revel in the scratches for as long as he was allowed. “Not a problem at all,” Sebastian poured what he thought looked like a double of bourbon for Blaine and then made himself a drink. He handed the bourbon over before sitting down with the other man. “Vodka cran.” Sebastian took a sip and looked at Blaine over the rim of his glass, eyes dropping when he felt a knee press into his thigh. He took a drink. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Sebastian reached out and pretended to fix the collar of Blaine’s polo, there was nothing wrong with it of course, he was immaculate. He let his hand drift down to press his palm flat against his chest,scooting a little closer. Sebastian took comfort in the rapid beat of the other’s heart under his hand before sliding to press his hand against the back of Blaine’s neck. The hair at the nape of his neck tickled Sebastian’s hand.

Blaine:

Blaine swallowed hard when Sebastian scooted closer to him. He knew his heart was pounding hard against his hand, but he couldn’t find it in him to care too much. This was the closest they had been so far and Blaine noticed something he hadn't noticed before. Sebastian’s top teeth had slight imperfections. He’d originally thought that the other teeth were perfect, but now he could see  a crooked tooth that was so endearing it made Blaine sigh softly. Made him want to know Sebastian’s body even more. Blaine put his glass to his lips and managed to finish the whisky off with one long pull. He gently sat it down the table in front of them before turning his body so that he could face Sebastian, his knee sliding up onto the cushion. The dog forgotten.

“I’m glad, too.” His voice was hardly there when he spoke. He leaned into Sebastian’s touch, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling where long fingers rested against curls. Before he could talk himself out of it he slid his right hand up and rested it against the other man's jaw, his fingertips  just ghosting over the sharp angle before trailing it to the back of his neck, gently pulling Sebastian to him. His stomach was knotted and anxious as he closed the short distance to Sebastian’s inviting lips and his own and kissed him. He gasped into the kiss, the sensation almost electrifying. His fingers curling against Sebastian’s neck and his eyes slipping closed. Before he could think more about what he was doing he found himself opening his mouth slightly, his tongue sliding along Sebastian’s bottom lip before licking inside. He whimpered into the kiss as his lips kissed harder. Slowly. Wanting nothing more than to show Sebastian how much he wanted to kiss him.How much he wanted him. His body pressed impossibly closer. His skin felt like it was on fire and his body felt tightly coiled, like each slip of the tongue would bring him one step closer to snapping apart.

Seb:

This was the moment when everything stopped. Shaking hands, desperation, and lust all culminating in a kiss. Sebastian’s anxieties left somewhere with his drink on the coffee table, his fingers knotting into Blaine’s hair as he opened his mouth into the kiss.

He had never been kissed like this before. A mix of tenderness and want that was more intoxicating than any shot he had ever taken. Sebastian felt like he was running straight down a hill, his legs moving faster than the rest of his body, bound to crash but too high on the adrenaline to care that much.

 Seb gave Blaine’s curls a little tug and moaned into the kiss, nipping a little at the other man’s swollen bottom lip. He slid his hands down over his back, feeling firm muscles underneath course fabric. Sebastian pulled away for a moment, standing with his hands out in front of him,reaching for Blaine. “C’mon.” He started to walk backwards,towards the bedroom. Sebastian pulled Blaine in again for another kiss, his hands finally underneath that inconvenient polo, fingers ghosting over the other man’s stomach. He moaned a little when he felt the trail of hair that led into his jeans.

  Blaine:

 Blaine moaned small and breathy into Sebastian’s mouth when his curls were tugged, the sensation traveling straight down to his cock. He wanted nothing more than yank Sebastian back down onto the sofa and press him into the cushions so that he could keep kissing him. He almost actually pouted before realizing that Sebastian wanted him to follow him into the bedroom. He complied without hesitation fingers curling into Sebastian’s shirt when he was kissed again. He didn’t want to stop. Wouldn’t have except Sebatian was touching his stomach and suddenly Blaine needed that direct skin on skin contact all over. He reluctantly pulled back and without taking his eyes off of Seb pulled his polo and undershirt off letting red and white fabric hit the ground carelessly. Instantly he went back to Sebastian, pulling his taller body back to him so that he could kiss him again, a little messily,  before moving to pull Sebastian’s shirt up and over his head, more white fabric joining the rest.

 Sebastian was muscled lightly, his skin tan and smooth, with a dusting of freckles all over. It so different than Blaine’s own body. He used to be self conscious about his body hair, but shaving took too long. He was glad he didn’t bother because the little moan that left Sebastian’s mouth when he touched the hair just above his jeans delighted Blaine entirely. He ran his fingers down Sebastian’s now bare chest and stopped just above the button of his jeans. He looked up at Sebastian through thick eye lashes as he started to unbutton his jeans.

 “Can I?” he wasn’t even sure what all he was asking permission for, to touch him? To see him? To breathe him? Everything, he wanted it all. He wanted to explore Sebastian in a way he’d never wanted to know anything before.

 Seb:

 Watching Blaine lift his shirt over his head was way hotter than Sebastian imagined it would be. How could such a simple act go right through him? He lifted his arms and let the other get rid of his shirt, not caring where it fell. “Yes, please.” Every little thing Blaine was doing was electrifying his entire body, making him ache in the best way.

 Sebastian’s hands drifted up Blaine’s torso and then back down again. He slipped his fingers in the edge of his jeans to pull him closer before fumbling with his button and zipper. “God,” he gave a breathless laugh. Sebastian was struggling with the button and zipper because his hands were shaking with so much anticipation. He finally got the button undone, along with the zipper, and pushed the other man’s jeans down his slim hips.

 Blaine stood before him in nothing but tight, black briefs. Sebastian bit his lip, hands finding their way back to those hips. He could see the outline of Blaine’s cock through the dark fabric and couldn’t stop himself from greedily pulling the briefs down his legs. “Jesus…” He breathed, taking in the sight of the man before him. Blaine was...blessed, to say the least. Sebastian put it eloquently by saying, “Christ you’re huge.” before laughing to himself and shaking his head. He pulled Blaine in by his hips for another kiss.

 Blaine:

 His breath hitched as the cool air hit his now naked body and he struggled with the urge to cover himself up. He didn’t though because Sebastian's eyes were drinking him in and it was enough to drive Blaine wild. He was achingly hard already. He smiled shyly up at the other when he mentioned his size, knowing that he was above average, but also worried slightly that Sebastian might not like that. He’d been told he was too much before and it didn’t feel great. But when Sebastian laughed gripped his hips and pulled him in for another kiss all of Blaine’s insecurities went out the window.

 His eyes slipped closed as he kissed Sebastian.  He’d never get enough of kissing him, he felt. His hands slid down his sides and rested back on Sebastian's  jeans. They shook a little as he fumbled with the expensive material but he managed to push them off of slender hips along with the dark grey boxer briefs Sebastian wore, hugging tightly to his body. And then Sebastian was standing in front of him just as naked as him. He wasn’t huge but he was hard and heavy as Blaine reached out with shaking hands and ran his fingertips across the shaft. He was incredible. He had mile long legs that he knew would be strong from all the running he did and he couldn’t wait to feel them wrapped around him. “You’re perfect.” His voice was soft, almost not there as he looked up at the taller man, his free hand wrapping around Sebastian’s waist and pulling him closer so he could kiss him again. As he kissed him, he stroked just slightly before reluctantly pulling away and glancing at the bed. Sebastian had one of those trendy low to the ground attic beds which gave Blaine and idea.

 He licked his lips as he maneuvered the two of them so that Sebastian had his back the side of the bed and he pushed his shoulders down just enough so that he would get the hint to sit down. Once Sebastian was sitting, Blaine got to lean down and kiss him for once. And then before he could second guess himself he was on his knees between Sebastian’s long legs. He looked up through his lashes and wetted his lips before leaning down and taking Sebastian’s cock into his mouth. He didn’t stop until his nose was nestled against musky hair. He paused there and inhaled through his nose, the scent so utterly manly that his own cocked twitctched with want. He wrapped his arms around Sebastian's lower body and tugged the other man closer, spreading his legs a bit more and slowly but firmly started to suck. His tongue swirling and lapping as he went. Little moaning noises muffled, but vibrating through Sebastian. His fingertips pressed into Sebastian’s hips, desperate to keep touching him.

 Seb:

 Nobody had ever called him perfect before. It was such a sweet remark for the two of them standing naked and panting, it was so ludacris and special that Sebastian smiled. Not just a small, casual smirk but, a big toothy grin. He didn’t know that he could be simultaneously turned on and laughing and giddy and hard. It was a ,perfect frenzy of emotions and sensations.

 He let Blaine take control and guide them to the bed, sitting as was wanted. Sebastian liked it when his lovers took over but, it was rare. He was the one always expected to be smooth and educated and dominant. The firm press of the other’s callused hands on his shoulders gave him a shiver through his entire body.

 The sight of Blaine between his thighs, big eyes looking up at him would have been enough but then, he was inside of his mouth and could feel his nose press into the hair at the base of his cock. Sebastian’s mouth fell open and his right hand went immediately into the other man’s black curls. “Fuck..” Blaine’s fingertips pressing into his hip bones hurt just right and he silently hoped he would have bruises in the morning, proof that this was actually happening. Seb’s hips bucked into Blaine as he tugged on his hair. “Blaine…” He brought his free hand to grip the other’s shoulder. Sebastian felt embarrassingly close, far too quickly but, everything Blaine was doing was unholy. “I don’t wanna...not yet.” Sebastian put both hands in the other’s hair. “Kiss me again. Come here.” His voice was too breathy, too high and his hands were betraying his want, tremoring. Sebastian lifted his legs up on the bed and pushed himself back, eyes locked on amber.

 Blaine:

Blaine closed his eyes when Sebastian tangled his fingers in his curls, his rhythm faltering a bit. He reluctantly pull his mouth away instantly missing the heaviness against his tongue. He licked his lips, nodded and stood up on shaky legs as he watch Sebastian move himself back on the bed. For a second Blaine couldn’t move, he just watched Sebastian lay himself back against the pillows, the words ‘kiss me again and come here’ making something in his stomach flip. He felt a tightness in his body as he crawled onto the bed and in between Sebastian’s legs. He let himself rest against Sebastian’s warm body, his cock resting against the Sebastian’s stomach as he let himself touch Sebastian's face gently, his eyes meeting a wall of green blue before closing the distance between his swollen lips and Sebastian’s. He let his eyes close again, his hips rocking against the other just a bit as he kissed the man under him, slowly and deeply. Like they’d been lovers for years. He placed on hand next to Sebastian’s head and the other still traced faint lines over his jaw.

 After a few minutes of kissing him he pulled back just enough and whispered in a raspier voice. “Where do you keep your stuff?” He wasn’t trying to rush this, but he wanted to press himself as close to Sebastian as he could. He wanted to stamp this night in his mind forever because he doubted he’d ever feel this good with another man again. From the first kiss he’d felt it, the knowledge that this could be so much more than a not strings hookup. The thought alone terrified him, it was dangerous and he almost feared he'd be ripped away before even getting to move with Sebastian at all. “I have one, but it’s on the floor and I-I don’t want to let you go…” He trailed off, embarrassed.

 Seb:

 Sebastian let his legs fall open to accommodate Blaine. “That’s cute,” he said,a small smile lilting on his lips. But, of course this guy brought a condom, tucked into his jeans pocket. “It’s in the bed stand drawer. Here…” He reached over,stretching as much as he could with Blaine laying on top of him, and pulled the drawer open. Sebastian’s hand fumbled inside for a moment, it was an awkward angle, before bringing out a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. He set them on the bed and put his hands on the other man’s shoulders. “I don’t want you going anywhere,” Sebastian tilted his head and gave Blaine a kiss on the jaw, stubble scraping against his lips. He brought a hand to clasp against the back of Blaine’s neck, thumb threading through the fine hairs there, his lips falling from jaw to neck to chest.

 “Is this okay?” Sebastian paused his kissing to look at Blaine, meaning their position. “I just really, really want to feel you inside of me.” Sebastian lifted a leg and wrapped it around his waist, the press him closer. He loved how heavy Blaine’s cock felt against his stomach, the scrape of his stubble on his skin, the smell of incense and sweat hanging in the air, and the rough skin of his hands. He nipped at a spot under the other’s clavicle, “Please?” A devilish smile played across his mouth.

 Blaine:

Blaine's cheeks heated up when Sebatian called what he’d said cute and he bit his bottom lip, trapping a smile behind his teeth. He watched Sebastian as he fumbled in the drawer to get what they needed. He closed his eyes as the other man kissed his neck and chest and sighed contently, allowing a moment to enjoy just being near him. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” he mumbled as he pressed another kiss to Sebastian's lips. He rolled his hips slightly as if to indicate that this was how he wanted it. “Yes, it’s perfect. As long as you don’t think it’s too much…” He looked down at his cock trapped in between them to indicate what he meant.

 He swallowed hard as he reached for the lubrication, his hands shaking as he maneuvered himself slightly so that he was putting weight on his knees mostly. The weight of Sebastian’s long leg wrapped around him making it a little more difficult and not just because he didn’t have much range of motion, but because Blaine couldn’t wait to feel digging into his back… He licked his lips and didn’t break eye contact as he coated his index and middle finger on his right hand. His shifted his hips a bit to allow access for his hand.  Gently he traced the tight ring of Sebastian’s entrance with middle finger, coating him so that Sebastian could be as comfortable as possible. He kept his eyes locked on Sebastian’s, asking for permission as he slowly slid two fingers inside of him until they were pressed flush against him, the pressure on Blaine’s fingers alone sending more heat straight to his own cock. He pressed in over and over, making sure to twist them just so, his eyes still never leaving Sebastian's. He couldn’t look away, wanted to see all of his facial expressions. Wanted to see that smirk change into something more.  “Does that feel good?” His voice was hardly there yet deep with arousal.

 Seb:

“No! No.” Sebastian knew he sounded way too eager but, was so turned on by Blaine’s size, body, voice,hands touch that he wasn’t going to turn him away now. He took a deep breath and adjusted his body, nodding to the other man before his fingers entered him. Sebastian winced for a moment, breathing out of his nose, the pit of his stomach pooling with excitement. He could feel himself stretching, stinging leading into pleasure. His lips parted, small pants escaping between them. Sebastian arched his back and let his leg fall from Blaine, choosing to spread his legs further apart in invitation for more. “Fuck...yes!” Sebastian’s voice was all heavy breath. “Yes, it feels so good.” He huffed a small laugh, pleasure betraying him with a moan.

 Blaine:

 “Yeah?” Blaine’s lips curved into a slow smile as he listened to the other man. He could feel Sebastian’s muscles clenching around his fingers and could hardly hold back his own moan. The way Sebastian was spreading himself open for Blaine was so hot he almost came right there. He was open and waiting and it was all for Blaine. Blaine was doing this. He leaned forward and kissed the laughing moan from Sebastian's lips as he added his ring finger, his thumb gently caressing at the underside of Sebastian’s balls as his thrusts and curled his fingers upwards a few times more before pressing them in deep one last time and then withdrawing them slowly. He lifted up and sat back on his heels, his knees spread apart just enough to keep Sebastian open. His hands shakily opening the box of condoms and taking one out. He opened it with shaking hands and managed to slide it on himself, the simple touch sending shivers down his spine. He reached for the lubrication once more and coated his cock thoroughly not wanting to hurt Sebastian. He leaned forward, his hand resting above Sebastian’s head, his other one gently guiding his cock towards Sebastian. He whispered the words into Sebastian’s ear his teeth nipping just so at his ear lobe. “Tell me when you’re ready…” His voice was still raspy and shaky.

 Seb:

 Sebastian couldn’t do much besides gasp and moan while Blaine worked him open. He whimpered when Blaine removed his fingers, only to moan again when he sat up to prepare himself. Seb greedily watched Blaine, could feel his knees pressing into his legs to keep them open. He sighed heavily and nodded when Blaine leaned forward, the other’s crystal quartz scraping delicately against his chest. He was going to like that. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for anything.” The pillow dipped by his head where Blaine pressed his palm to support himself. Seb turned and kissed his wrist before gripping it,placing his other hand on the nape of his neck.

 Blaine:

 Blaine licked his lips at Sebastian's words, a thrill running through him when his wrist was kissed and then grabbed. He liked thinking that Sebastian was using him as support. Slowly he used his free hand to press the top of his cock into Sebastian’s entrance, the tight ring of muscles rejecting him at first until he pushed a little harder. Sebastian’s tight pressure greedily taking him in. It wasn’t until he had buried himself all the way inside Sebastian that he realized he wasn’t breathing. He let his breath out whining breath, “Fuck Seb-” his breath caught again unable to finish his train of thought as he looked down at the others lust blown eyes. He pressed his forehead against Sebastian’s while he waited for his lover to accept accept him and relax. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt him, even though he knew it probably did a little. He was just hoping it was the good kind of ache and burn. “You okay?” He asked softly, his hand coming up to rest on Sebastian’s jaw, his thumb caressing softly as he slowly began to thrust inside of him. Gently. Asking.

 Seb:

 Sebastian sucked in a breath that turned into a moan as Blaine entered him. His forehead creased and he bit down on his bottom lip. It hurt, his body throbbing. Sebastian took another breath and nodded, the throbbing turning into a satisfactory burn. “I’m great.” Sebastian murmured,turning his head into the hand on his jaw, feeling the other’s body gently rock into him. Not before long, his body was reacting without his control. Sebastian’s hips moved in tandem, his back arched, little moans and pants falling between them. He gave Blaine’s wrist one last squeeze before gripping his ass with Both hands, legs coming up even more to push him deeper inside. “God…”

   Blaine:

 Fueled by Sebastian's hands gripping his ass he tucked his knees up under Sebastian’s thighs, spreading both of their legs more in the process so that he could slide in deeper. He’d feel it in his thighs tomorrow, the ache. But right now he didn’t care, in fact, he wouldn’t care tomorrow either. He wanted to keep all of the memories from tonight.  His fingers gripped the pillow next to Sebastian’s head, and he used it for leverage as he pulled and thrusted deeper and harder each time. The sound of skin on skin filling the air. It was a filthy lewd sound and it was all Blaine could do to not come just like that. Blaine mumbled almost to himself, grunting softly with each hard thrust, his hips pressing as deep a he could before pulling out, and all but slamming back in again. “Fuck...C-can you come like this? Do I need to…” he meant to ask if Seb needed touched in order to come but lost the words. Blaine meant to move his free hand from his jaw to wrap around Sebastian’s cock, but he didn’t make it past his neck, he’d gotten distracted but the cords and muscles straining. His fingers curled around the back of his back, his thumb pressing gently into his long, freckled throat without thinking. “You feel so good… So open.” He moved his mouth down and licked the long expanse of his neck, his thumb stroking his Adam’s Apple just so. Blaine sucked gently on Sebastian’s chin before licking almost dirtily back into his mouth again, kissing him deep and slow in time with each thrust. He pulled back and looked down into Sebastian’s face, desire written all over his own.  “Want to watch you.”

 Seb:

 Sebastian was feeling too much, but trying so hard to last just a little longer. There was the scent of their sweat and the memory of cologne, the slap of their bodies moving together, the sheets getting pulled off of the mattress, Blaine’s harsh breath, his thighs burning with exertion, Blaine fucking him so completely into the mattress he wasn’t sure where his body ended and fabric began.

 “You,” Seb panted, “feel fucking..h-huge…” the words broke off into a moan. He wasn’t sure he could say anything else. The combination of Blane’s filthy words and his mouth and hands on his throat were only iliciting moans.

 Seb nodded when Blaine pulled away to watch, his eyes falling closed. He could feel the knot in his stomach that he’d been holding start to unravel. His whole body felt taut, about to spill into a million pieces everywhere. Sebastian slid his hands up Blaine’s back, taking in the feeling of his muscles before tugging on his hair as he came in between them with an embarrassingly loud moan .

 Blaine:

 Sebastian’s words sent little tingles all over Blaine’s body. It was all he could do to keep himself from coming, but he held off because he wanted to watch his lover come first. Wanted to rock into him and hold him close as he came down. His eyes found Sebastian’s once more right before he got to witness Sebastian crash down, his muscles clenching around Blaine’s cock almost painfully. He was so fucking beautiful, Blaine didn’t want this to end. “That’s it, I got you.” His words were hardly there and were gasping as he fucked Sebastian slowly through his orgasm.

 His whole body was shaking with exertion and his fingers gripped the pillow by Sebastian’s head so hard his fingers ached. The feel of Sebastian’s fingers in his hair pulling with just the right amount of pain made him moan low, almost a growl. He could feel the tight pull behind his navel, and he knew he was about to fall apart. He moved both of his hands down and wrapped them around Sebastian’s waist, angling him up just a bit and pulling him impossibly closer. Pressing Blaine’s cock in even deeper than before. He thrust once more, his lips finding Sebastian’s and he kissed him hard and slow like he was the most important person in the world and Blaine’s orgasm hit him so fast and hard he froze, his body rigid and shaking against Sebastian’s, moaning to loudly into his mouth. “I can’t- I…Oh, Seb-.” He wasn't even sure what he was trying to say but Sebastian’s name came out like a prayer. His brain malfunctioned and  vision went blurry as he came down. When he could finally move, he rested his head against Sebastian’s sweaty neck, his nose nuzzling into his throat needily as he attempted and failed to steady himself. He felt as if he’d never get close enough. 

 Seb:

 Sebastian gritted his teeth and moaned low, enjoying that Blaine was still using his body even though he was spent and covered in come. He kissed Blaine back, wondering absently if he would spend the night and kiss him just like this again in the morning but he could never say that out loud. Seb lay there breathing heavily with the weight of Blaine on top of him, their skin sticking together, reminding him that all of that really just happened. “You good?” Sebastian craned his neck a little bit. He could feel Blaine’s rapid breathing and jackhammer heart. Normally, this part of hooking up made him uncomfortable, and he made a show of getting out from under his partner and cleaning up. Seb found that he didn’t quite mind this. “Because I’m great.” He danced his long fingers across Blaine’s shoulders.

 Blaine:

 Once Blaine got himself under some form of control he looked up at Sebastian, his cheeks blazing red with shyness as he gently pulled out. He reached between them and pulled the condom off, gently leaning over and throwing it in the trash next to Sebastian’s bed. He tried not to think about why it might be there. But he knew he wasn’t the first to come home with him. And it drove him crazy thinking that he wouldn’t be the last. He moved slowly back over Sebastian scooting his body off of his, but not moving away. He laid himself facing Sebastian, is fingers dancing over Sebastian's hips before pulling him to him, his hands brushing up and down Sebastian’s thigh comforting. He knew they should clean up, but he was drowsy and spent and a little embarrassed with himself. “Are you… I mean, did I hurt you?” He asked quietly and bit his bottom lip. He knew he had lost some control with the other man underneath him. He couldn’t really help himself, his primal side coming out the moment he slid inside. “I feel good, so good. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good…” He stated, nuzzling his sweaty head into Sebastian’s pillow and then into his shoulder. His eyes fluttery and heavy. If Sebastian allowed it, he could sleep like this. Wrapped around the other man in complete comfort. But, Blaine didn’t know what Sebastian usually did now. Would he ask him to go? Was already crossing a line but cuddling him? He didn’t even think about the time, all he knew was that he didn’t want to leave. He was sated and comfortable and it felt good to be near the green eyed man. “Please, don’t make me go.” he was sure he hadn't said that last part out loud, but tensed when he knew he did. “I didn’t mean that. Well, I did, but I’ll go if you want me to.” He bit his lip suddenly embarrassed. “I’m not sure how this part works. I’ve never enjoyed myself so much…” He trailed off, not even thinking about what might happen if he stayed.

 Seb:

 Sebastian, to his surprise, didn’t mind Blaine getting close to him again and wrapping around him. “I’m not hurt.” Blaine’s fingers on his inner thigh tickled and felt extremely intimate. It was funny, they had just fucked but this was the part that felt the most private. “ I...yeah, this is like, the best night I’ve had in a minute. You’re….something,” Seb smiled.

 “I’m not gonna make you leave.” The vulnerability in the other man’s voice catching him. Did his partners always feel like this or was something bigger happening? Sebastian shook his head and wrapped an arm around Blaine. “You don’t mind if I don’t shower, do you? I don’t think I could walk to the shower. “ He poked Blaine in the rib, trying to make him smile. “You may have made it to where I can’t run for a few days. I like it.” Sebastian laughed softly before a nice quiet fell over him. He felt sated and achy and hot, like he could sleep for days. Before he could say another word he started to drift off, his arm still wrapped around the other, his leg in between Blaine’s.

 The last thing he saw were Blaine’s long eyelashes fluttering against his red cheeks.

 Blaine:

 Embarrassed Blaine ducked his head,trying to hide his face from Sebastian. It was dark now, but the June moon was washing over them through the window.”I just wanted to make you feel good, that’s all.” Blaine felt a strange relief wash over him when Sebastian told him he didn’t have to leave.He realized he probably sounded pathetic, but in that moment he didn’t care.”No,I don’t mind as long as you don’t mind.” He blushed again, thankful that it was mostly dark in the room. He found himself smiling against the pillow anyway. ”I like that you’ll still feel me tomorrow. I know I’ll still feel you with each step.” He closed his eyes meaning to lean in and kiss his lover once more, but somewhere between the thought and the pillow he drifted off, his body more relaxed than it had been in years.His skin tingling where Sebastian’s bare skin touched him. The last thing he remembered was watching Sebastian smile and thinking how he could look at him all day and the feel of Sebastian's legs tangled with his own.

  /fin.

[zombiiesque]

Nocturne Alchemy Halloween 2019 - Part One

Originally published 10/8/2019

Hey y'all, and happy Halloween month! October is, bar none, my favorite time of the year, even though it's a little ridiculously hot here in Florida. It took me forever to decide what I wanted, but I finally picked up some treats from Nocturne Alchemy's Halloween 2019 release, and I want to share my thoughts on those, and maybe cover briefly what I have that appears in the Resurgence section, as well. So let's dive right in, shall we?

What did I wind up choosing? A pretty good selection, having tested everything, I don't think there's a single one that isn't going to work! I picked out Pirate's Rum for Jody, but I haven't tested it on him yet, so we'll skip that for now. The rest of what I got was Blood, Blood Queen, Blackout, Vampire Bourbon Patchouli Bat, and The Mummy Returns - as it turns out, I have an aged bottle of that, so I'm probably going to swap my new bottle. They sent me Mummy's Spirit as a prize from a contest I won on the business page on Facebook, and the free sample was the brand new PC scent, Halloween 2020. That's a pretty exciting set!

Blood – Kashmir (Studio Limited), Pipe Tobacco accord, Caramel Oudh (NA Studio), Black Patchouli leaves, Palo Santo essential oil, Italian Bergamot, Italian Pine resin, Frankincense Resin, Myrrh wood and Bastet’s Musk. Oh, this is intense. It's almost a little scary, and these are notes that are right in my wheelhouse. That was my first thought when I put this on my skin - but then it warms and melds, and ooooof - it's captivating. Apply this lightly - a little goes a very long way. Right away, I get the palo santo, and then it sort of melts into this caramel oudh and tobacco. I love NA's tobacco, and I don't have much of it, so I really, really wanted this one. I'm getting almost a leather feel at first, but that stage doesn't last very long. If I sniff really hard, I can pick out the pine, Kashmir (a deep red musk), patchouli, and resins while it's still wet. Once it starts drying though, as I mentioned before, it really all melds together. It's got a slightly unisex feel, and I really want to try this one on my fiance, I think it would be amazing on a man. But he is going to have to share it, if he likes it - I love this entirely too much to give it up. Oh my gosh, it's so dark and sexy, I can't stop huffing my wrists. This is an inky fall night, the moon up high and bright in the sky. There's a chill in the air, but a huff of smoke from someone's pipe - and there's a bonfire in the distance. You're wrapped up nice and warm though. And holy bats do you smell amazing. It lasts quite a while, too. I got a solid 10+ hours out of it. I kept catching whiffs of it that had me trying to figure out what it was before I remembered what I was wearing. Yeah, love this one.

Blackout – NA Chypre accord (labdanum, oakmoss, lavender, patchouli and neroli), Jasmine Absolute, NA Oudh, Bastet Amber Absolute, Mandarin, Clove and Amber accord. Blackout is a stunner of a chypre. This is darkly gothic, and it feels almost....dangerous. Hah! I love it. Chypres are an interesting group for me, most of the time I love them, but sometimes there's a floral that can turn up a little weird on my skin? That's definitely not happening here. If you took a look at the notes and were worried about the jasmine, mandarin, or clove - I spent a full two days with Blackout, and I'm just not able to truly pick them out. When I first put it on, while wet, there's a slight hint of a spicy floral, but it just melts into something deeper and darker so quickly, I can't get a handle on what the florals would be. This is just so smooth and sophisticated. If Blackout was a True Blood character, it would be Eric. Hah! I'm not sure if I could pick out my favorite between this, Blood, and Blood Queen, as I love them all - they're wildly different - but I think if I were pressured, it would be Blackout. The oakmoss is perfection here, I find it to be the most noticeable note in the chypre accord. Since that's a particular favorite of mine from NA, I'm happy to see it star here. This is so starkly beautiful. There's almost a coldness here, but it's drawing me in - it's very appealing. I think that Blood and Blood Queen are very warm scents, but Blackout is just .... chilly.

Blood Queen – Wild Black Currant, Cemetery Musk, Santalum White (Studio Limited), Kashmir (Studio Limited), Black Musk, Blood Wine accord, Black Violet and Lilac essence. Blood Queen is just so purple and wild! I had a hard time choosing what I was going to order to go along with Blackout and Vampire Bourbon Patchouli Bat. I finally settled on Blood, but I kinda was looking hard at Skeletonic, as I adore woody scents - I might have to go back for it, but the notes for Blood Queen just kept pulling me in. This is definitely a me scent, and so I plopped it in my cart and didn't look back. I think I expected the Kashmir, which is a deep, sexy, rich red musk, to kind of be the star here. And it's here, don't get me wrong. Kashmir and Black Musk are not musks that will ever be described as shy, but though I get both of them, they're playing so well with the other notes - like a dance. It's mesmerizing. On my skin, the wine and Cemetery Musk play supporting roles. There's a sweetness and fullness that they add to Blood Queen. Primarily, though, this perfume is a fruity floral musk - and a stunner. This is a come hither, slinky, sultry, masterpiece. Not shy, even a little bit. The blackcurrant is juicy and sweet - it's a good counter for the dark florals of violet and lilac. I usually avoid florals, but I really like how they play darkly with the musks and fruit. If Blackout is Eric, I'm calling Blood Queen Pam. *wink* It lasts forever on my skin, too. A solid 8 to 10 hours!

Mummy’s Spirit – Green Matcha Tea, Violet, Egyptian Blue Chamomile Essential Oil, Egyptian Papyrus essential oil, Egyptian Musk and Egyptian Red Musk and NA Limestone Amber. This was the bottle that I won in a contest NA had on their business page, and they picked out for me. I actually was kind of drooling over the description of it already, because I do love that papyrus note, and their green teas. Naturally, I love this one. It's bright and fresh and crisp, and the green tea is gorgeous here. It's been so, so hot here in Florida - we're missing fall by a long shot. This is a great transitional scent - I can definitely see wearing it as it gets colder, but I wore it a few days in a row when it was over 90 degrees and it was lovely then, also. This is a lighter scent - it needed a couple of applications throughout the day, but I suspect the more it ages, it will get a little more longevity, because I've noticed that's a pattern with scents that start out lighter from NA. Just worth mentioning it as something to be aware of, in terms of a review. For me, I don't mind reapplying - I usually take scent with me wherever I go. But I'll be looking forward to see how this one is going to play out with age, as I already love it. It's quite different from the others that I chose myself, but it's definitely something I'll be reaching for often. I don't get a lot of the violet, so it must be a background note. The chamomile lends a light herbal tone, adding to the overall "green" feel of Mummy's Spirit. I don't get a lot of the violet, but I think on my skin it adds a softly sweet contrast against the green, herbal feel of the tea and chamomile.

Vampire Bourbon Patchouli Bat – Golden and Black Patchouli essential oils slow-drip blended into our Bourbon Vanille Absolute, Sugared Vanilla pods with hints of Oak and Hinoki wood. This one was my first choice - I knew absolutely I was going to get it. And it was an instant win, right out of the mailbox. This is warm and cozy, but at the same time, dead sexy and darkly slinky. The slightly boozy vanilla against the patchouli is perfectly balanced - and I am totally getting the oak and hinoki wood, so that's really awesome, I was hoping I'd be able to smell that in the mix! I feel like the woods really help keep that balance here, because the Bourbon Vanille is quite a rich note, along with the sugared vanilla. The long drydown on this is an almost spicy, plush, slightly narcotic vanilla, balanced with a dark, resinous, herbal patchouli. This isn't your hippie grandma's patchouli scent, by a long shot. This is elegant and polished. It would be a great date night scent - but at the same time, it's cozy and inviting, and I'd wear this to go stomping in the fall leaves in a sweater and jean jacket. I'd also wear it to dinner with my guy. If you were even thinking about Vampire Bourbon Patchouli Bat, do yourself a favor - go pick it up. Yesterday. Word in the fan run Facebook group, the House of NA Tent, is super positive - I think it's the fan favorite of NAlloween 2019.

You know what? I've been thinking about it. I think Blood would be Alcide. *wink*

Edit: At the risk of repeating myself, I'm going to throw a blanket statement out for all of these - I cannot wait to see what they're going to be like with some aging. I accidentally bought a bottle of The Mummy Returns, and I already had one from last year. The fresh bottle is truly a gorgeous scent, but that aged bottle? Wow. So just bear that in mind, my impressions are from bottles I've only had about a week. It's going to be fun to revisit them next Halloween!

Okay, that's going to wrap it up for today. I'm going to go ahead and do a second half, and cover Halloween 2020 (YESSSS) and the Resurgence that I have, including my beautifully aged bottle of The Mummy Returns. The Resurgence reviews are posted here, if you would like to take a look! Thanks for joining me, y'all!