#but i also hate sitting idle

[spockandawe]

Oh man. I'm really trying to claw my work hobby-life balance back into order, but in my defense, this set has been in wip limbo for a few weeks. I started it before the blue and tan piece! But then I needed to order more green straw, and the shop was on vacation, and then I ordered the wrong green straw. But it finally came together! This was actually supposed to be the practice project to git gud at inlays before I did some overambitious pictorial thing. However, I'm extremely impatient and demand immediate gratification at all times, so everything went way out of order

This was also an experiment in rays. Watching the pros, on a large piece, when everything radiates from a single point, they don't usually bring every piece of straw back to that point. Even if you're very good, it's hard to keep it all crisp and precise. So here, I defined individual rays that would be filled separately with just one point for that surface area. The gold pieces have thirty degree rays, and the green has twenty degrees (I think I like this better), and I tried to concentrate the lighter colors toward that center.

For the biggest, most boring ray on each piece (two rays together for the green), i put in the straw crosswise, and planned to do some geometrical cutouts. For the gold, this worked great! For the green, I ran out of straw. I also realized that the measurements written on these frames were a lie (I think they came from the outside of the frame, not the space for the picture). All the finished area I had to trim off would have probably been enough straw to finish :')

But the straw arrived yesterday! And I finished filling out the canvases and worked out some nice cutouts. The gold cutouts involved taking circular bites out of circles, radiating from the center, so in this one, I did overlapping circles of increasing size, radiating as well. And the skill level up between me doing the gold inlays (and then two big projects) and then the green inlays was NOTABLE. I'm always so relieved when I can see that happening! And now with all four frames filled, they've been installed on my office wall. I'm in a few more meetings lately that want my camera on, but my wall was embarrassingly boring. Not a problem anymore!

[baeshijima]

the itoshi brothers through the years ...

[dresshistorynerd]

The Morrisian case against fast fashion

Today I discovered that H&M made a William Morris collection some years ago. The heath death of the universe can't come quickly enough. We can stop now. Satire is dead and we killed her.

It's not just the whole concept of H&M using William Morris' designs for their fast fashion which is insanity inducing, but also the critical response it garnered. Like sure, people did realize this is insane and there was a lot of think pieces about it at the time, but I read several of them and they all seem to still miss the point in spectacular way.

The basic premise of these think pieces go along the lines of: "Would William Morris spin in his grave with a speed of light because of the H&M collection of his designs? A difficult question indeed. William Morris was a complicated man. He wanted art to be affordable to everyone. Isn't H&M affordable? That kinda fits. Though probably he would have some concerns about H&M's practices."

On the surface - yes - but like in reality - fuck no. There's no nuance in this particular issue. He talked about many times what he though of the H&Ms of his time, the retailers selling poor quality industrially produced "fashionable" bullshit. We know exactly what he would have thought of H&M. Here's couple of quotes from his 1884 lecture "Art and Socialism", which makes it very clear.

"It would be an instructive day's work for any one of us who is strong enough to walk through two or three of the principal streets of London on a week-day, and take accurate note of everything in the shop windows which is embarrassing or superfluous to the daily life of a serious man. Nay, the most of these things no one, serious or unserious, wants at all; only a foolish habit makes even the lightest-minded of us suppose that he wants them, and to many people even of those who buy them they are obvious encumbrances to real work, thought and pleasure. But I beg you to think of the enormous mass of men who are occupied with this miserable trumpery, from the engineers who have had to make the machines for making them, down to the hapless clerks who sit day-long year after year in the horrible dens wherein the wholesale exchange of them is transacted, and the shopmen, who not daring to call their souls their own, retail them amidst numberless insults which they must not resent, to the idle public which doesn't want them but buys them to be bored by them and sick to death of them."

He is describing the birth of consumerism, which was taking form during his lifetime in the late Victorian Era, which fast fashion is the extreme logical conclusion of, and he fucking hated it. He specifically railed against endless consumerist products, which H&M is the perfect representation of. It was definitely not the art and beauty he believed everyone required and deserved. He makes the distinction often.

"Now if we are to have popular Art, or indeed Art of any kind, we must at once and for all be done with this luxury; it is the supplanter, the changeling of Art; so much so that by those who know of nothing better it has even been taken for Art, the divine solace of human labour, the romance of each day's hard practice of the difficult art of living."

"And here furthermore is at least a little sign whereby to distinguish between a rag of fashion and a work of Art: whereas the toys of fashion when the first gloss is worn off them do become obviously worthless even to the frivolous—a work of Art, be it ever so humble, is long lived; we never tire of it; as long as a scrap hangs together it is valuable and instructive to each new generation. All works of Art in short have the property of becoming venerable amidst decay: and reason good, for from the first there was a soul in them, the thought of man, which will be visible in them so long as the body exists in which they were implanted."

When he thought of popular Art he thought of the craftsmanship of the common people. The art people have made from useful everyday objects with skillful handicrafts. This is what he means by "divine solace of human labour". It's not reverence of Puritanical work ethic, on the contrary, it's the reverence of creation, of the earnest joy people feel when they get to express themselves through their creative pursuits. He certainly didn't believe in work for work's sake, work needed to be worthwhile and enjoyable. He summarized his own position on what labour should be thusly:

"It is right and necessary that all men should have work to do which shall be worth doing, and be of itself pleasant to do; and which should he done under such conditions as would make it neither over-wearisome nor over-anxious."

He urged his middle class audience to reject consumerism (the lecture was for a very much middle class atheist society):

"For I say again that in buying these things: 'Tis the lives of men you buy! Will you from mere folly and thoughtlessness make yourselves partakers of the guilt of those who compel their fellow men to labour uselessly?"

I think it's glaringly obvious H&M and fast fashion in general is what he would consider luxury. Rags of fashion that are just churned out and discarded without thought and produced by compelling people to labour uselessly. It's not popular art that's made by workers and craftsmen, who are able to express themselves through it. There's no agency for the abused workers in H&M's sweatshops, they are not expressing their joy of creation, they are simply labouring uselessly.

Morris didn't shame workers for buying affortable things even if they weren't Art with big A, because that's the problem he despised the whole economic system for, for taking away the popular Art from people, making it inaccessible, and selling back mass produced products with very little practical or aesthetic value. So I don't think he would have problem with people who can only afford fast fashion today. They are the victims of capitalism too, because Art has been taken away from them. But the idea that some of these think pieces had that perhaps the H&M's Morris collection can be good actually if you squint, that H&M has the capacity to bring the art and beauty Morris advocated for for the people, is level of stupidity that's hard to express in words.

Morris didn't believe anything made with exploited labour could be truly beautiful, truly art. In his 1879 lecture "The Art of the People" he put it like this:

"That thing which I understand by real art is the expression by man of his pleasure in labour."

The way I understand this, is that art is communication. Through it we communicate feelings, ideas and thoughts, that is it's purpose. So for that communication to work, for it to be imbued with message, the person making it needs to feel passion and love for it's creation. How can there be love and passion if the hands making the garment belong to a tired exploited worker who has no agency what so ever in their work and can only think about survival to the next day?

Beyond the fundamental exploitativeness of H&M and fast fashion, this collection would still get zero points on aesthetic values from Morris even with his own designs. Because the work itself was such an important part of art for Morris, good design was nothing without good craftsmanship. Good design in his mind was always relative and dependent on it's purpose.

"For everything made by man’s hands has a form, which must be either beautiful or ugly; beautiful if it is in accord with Nature, and helps her; ugly if it is discordant with Nature, and thwarts her; it cannot be indifferent." (The Lesser Arts, 1877)

Here when he says nature, he means the nature of the thing that is made - basically it's purpose and function - and the nature of the materials it's made from. Basically, the design must always be made to bring out the function of the art and the qualities of the material it's made from, not fight against them. This is because he believed handicrafts were uniquely suitable for expressing the love of creation, therefore superior labour, and to really bring out the qualities of the craftsmanship and enjoy the creative process, the design should be suitable for that craft. The other side, which was the joy of using and experiencing art, required the craft to be selected for the suitable purpose. Using poorly functioning furniture for example is not very enjoyable, nor is using clothing that's made from materials that are not suitable for the climactic conditions it's supposed to be used in.

H&M of course utterly fails in this. They use Morris' designs in fully unsuitable ways. They print patterns made for example for wall papers on poor quality fabrics with synthetics dyes they weren't made for. This line from one blog post I came across really got me: "Therefore, without cheapening the artistic value of Morris’ designs, H&M’s collection offers an unparalleled potential for accessibility to them." No. Fuck no. They do in fact cheapen Morris' designs in every single way possible. Literally this is atrocious.

Despite the popular depiction, Morris wasn't in fact against industrial machinery or industrial art even, or at least he wasn't once his views on art and politics matured. He did think technology was useful, but he thought the people should use industrial methods for the benefit of all, not be enslaved by the industrial machine.

"I have spoken of machinery being used freely for releasing people from the more mechanical and repulsive part of necessary labour; and I know that to some cultivated people, people of the artistic turn of mind, machinery is particularly distasteful, and they will be apt to say you will never get your surroundings pleasant so long as you are surrounded by machinery. I don't quite admit that; it is the allowing machines to be our masters and not our servants that so injures the beauty of life nowadays. In other words, it is the token of the terrible crime we have fallen into of using our control of the powers of Nature for the purpose of enslaving people, we care less meantime of how much happiness we rob their lives of." ("How we live and how we might live", 1887)

However, he thought that the designer should approach it the way they approached any craft, by designing for the strengths of the machine work.

"But if you have to design for machine-work, at least let your design show clearly what it is. Make it mechanical with a vengeance, at the same time as simple at possible. Don't try, for instance, to make a printed plate look like a hand-painted one: make it something which no one would try to do if he were painting by hand..." ("Art and the Beauty of the Earth", 1881)

He did use some machinery for fabric and wall paper printing, but he was very intentional about their use. Still his designs weren't made for the type of methods these modern H&M machinery uses and he did for example use natural dyes. Particularly insulting is that some of the H&M clothes are made from viscose, rayon made with viscose method. Viscose method is extremely toxic and is known to cause long term health consequences for the workers and the people in surrounding areas. This has been well proven knowledge for ages. William Morris' wall paper factory in the beginning used the typical method used at the time which involved arsenic, but once he learned this could pose risks for the workers, he changed the method. Many of the new synthetic dyes were toxic at the time, which is the major reason he so favoured natural dyes, known to not cause health issues for workers or pollute the environment.

The question many of these think pieces about the H&M Morris collection posed was, would Morris disapprove and should we care? The first part of that is very easy to answer. Yes. Of course Morris would disapprove. He is currently powering the whole of British Isles with purely the kinetic energy his grave-spinning produces. Should we care though? If you care about Morris' art, if you want to see more of that kind of art in this world, you should care. Morris' art is not about the superficial qualities. Copying his designs and aesthetics and styles, will only lead to hollow imitations, that are exactly what he described the rags of fashion to be; as the shininess of novelty wears off they will reveal themselves to be soulless, useless and utterly empty. This collection is just that. To see more of the kind of art that makes you feel like his art makes you feel, not just something that reminds you of that feeling, you should focus more on the way the art is made and less on the specific aesthetics. If his vision of labour and art was realised, all art produced of course wouldn't be loved by every person, but all of it would be loved by someone, even if that someone was just the maker. And that would be more worthwhile than every single rag of fast fashion.

I will stop William-Morris-posting now and return to my thesis.

The full texts I quoted here:

Art and Socialism The Art of the People The Lesser Arts How We Live and How We Might Live Art and the Beauty of the Earth

[circesastro]

Circe's Note #3

Note: These are just my own observations, ideas, thoughts and theories. This is just for entertainment purposes. Also, please be respectful of my observations! It is perfectly understandable to not resonate with some of my personal observations but please do not leave any disrespectful comments! Lastly, please don’t plagiarize/copy/steal any of my works! Without further ado, enjoy!

**All photos are from Pinterest**

MASTERLIST

✿ Aries Mars tend to have a quick reaction or just move very fast

✿ Men with Sagittarius placements tend to have a very active lifestyle. Also they LOVE to spend time in nature/outdoors 😭. Most of their hobbies include skydiving, hiking, camping, etc.

✿ Individuals with Virgo placements hate having leftover food sit in their fridge…

✿ Also, individuals with Cancer suns always seems so calm? Whether it’s true or not is a whole other story but they always seem like the shy and quiet upon first impression…ex: Ateez’s San, Seventeen’s Wonwoo, NCT’s Taeyong, etc.

✿ Virgos tend to do a lot of editing/proofreading before submitting anything (if they could change it afterwards, they would too)

✿ Sagittarius Mars on the other hand are on a whole other level of competitiveness like they’re out for blood…there’s Yuqi from G-idle, Gunwook from ZB1 and even Li Chen…. if you can't tell just watch running man china and you'll know what I'm talking about 🤣

✿ Remember the time when Seok Matthew (Cancer Mars) won an arm wrestling match with Kim Donghyun (6th best UFC Wrestler who participated in Physical 100/ Virgo Mars) but lost to Gunwook (Sagittarius Mars)? Yeah, out for blood

✿ I noticed that in many idol groups, idols with libra placements tend to get popular and praised for the way they act/their mannerisms and charisma…there’s something fresh and unique that they bring to the table that the audience loves (Ex: BTS’s Jimin, Aespa’s Ningning, Gidle’s Yuqi, NMixx’s Lily, SKZ’s Bang Chan, Monsta X’s Joohoney, P1Harmony’s Keeho, Shinee’s Key, etc.)

✿ There’s two types of Scorpio mars— 1) Relies on their strength and drive to get through things (ex: BTS’s Jungkook, Ateez’s San & Seventeen’s Dino) and then there’s 2) One who relies on their mentality and emotional strength to get through things (ex: BTS’s Jimin and Seventeen’s Jeonghan)

✿ You know what is funny? Cancer mars won't get into a physical fight but they are strong??? Their strength is kind of unexpected because they don’t use it all that much.

✿ Aries placement tend to have the type of beauty that captures people’s attention first (ex: Hyunjin of SKZ have an Aries Mars, Karina of Aespa is an Aries Sun + Venus, Mingyu of SVT is an Aries Sun + Venus, Lisa of BlackPink is a Aries Stellium, Jackson Wang is an Aries Sun + Venus, Asa + Ahyeon of BabyMonster is an Aries Sun + Mercury, Cha Eunwoo is an Aries Stellium, Ryujin of ITZY is an Aries stellium, etc.)

✿ Leo placements and their hyperfocus on their hair is so real like my mom is a Leo sun and she always say to take care of your hair, my brother is a Leo Venus and he would always style his hair and use multiple different products before leaving the house and my friend is a Leo Venus and she would change hairstyle every other month….

✿ Pisces Mars women make excellent "gold diggers". I think its because they easily play into people's fantasies. (Ex. Sheraseven, Lauren Sanchez, and my aunt in law 💀.) Also they have this intuition to knowing what it is that the other desires so it may come easier for them to play into the "ideal woman" but before you know it you're trapped...point is I think they can easily bag up a provider.

✿ Pisces Mars women in general seems like the ideal fantasy women. I also notice that their "mask" slips easily but they make it up just as quick. They are the type of people to play a persona/character so well that they eventually end up embodying that energy. (Ex. Marilyn Monroe, Paris Hilton, Im Yoona) Not saying that they are fake, I am just saying that these people often make others fall in love with their personas.

✿ Adding on to the previous statement pisces mars can make great manifestors and I think they will benefit a lot from Law of Assumption. Congratulations 🥳🎉.

✿ This might as well become a pisces mars (both men and women) post but i think its a great deal of delusion + intuition + acting that pisces mars end up manifesting their dream life. (quite literally delulu until it becomes trululu...)

MASTERLIST

[2-dsimp]

if it’s no trouble could we get another part to DILF/ nanny reader? Maybe like a willing reader? Bc I know of a hot dad wanted to date me who am I to say no? Lol great work!!!!

Cw: fem reader! jealousy, possessive/obsessive tendencies, Quio and Miki butting heads, the plot thickens

Synopsis no.2: 【featuring you being caught in the middle between your coworker and employer literally and figuratively. Miki obviously hates your employer and makes it well known meanwhile Quio does the same vice versa. The Dilf tried his best to put his and Peina’s plan of seducing you into action. But he’s constantly getting interrupted. And He’s honestly so close to snapping at this point.】

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:

“I wish you’d stop by here more often after all you’re already part of the family."

The Dilf sighs melodramatically, electing a small giggle from your lips. Seeing how he acted so distraught due to your absence. While he led you and your coworker to the living room, gesturing for you to take a seat on the couch.

“Oh that’s kind of you to say Mr. Evinis but I can’t possibly impose on you guys. Plus I’ve still gotta work my boring office job”

You replied with a mirthful tone at his sweet comment truly feeling as if you’ve made a second home within your employers household. You’ve already grown accustomed to his friendly work staff and of course his darling daughter who was l always clinging onto you like a baby kitten. And the fact that her father was so chivalrous and kind didn’t help your own little crush from forming on the single dad.

“Oh perish the thought sugarling~ we’re lucky enough to even be blessed by your radiant grace. In this boring household.”

Quio reassures with a charming smile, as he makes sure to fluff up some fancy decor pillows for his lovely lady. After placing the plush pillows down where you’d sit, He then put a hand on your shoulder giving a comforting squeeze.

“In fact me and the little squirt have always gotten excited at seeing you pull up and we’d be more than happy to keep you hostage here if possible”

The Dilf admits in a cheesy manner, which made you feel at ease. From how sweet his insistence at you dropping by often to hang out was. Being none the wiser to how he was being 100% serious. About the part where him and his daughter briefly molled over the idea of keeping their lovely nanny hostage at their mansion. Since they honestly couldn’t get enough of how addicting your sunshine liken presence.

Lit up every dark lonesome corner of the estate and they’d be damned if they every let you get a chance to escape from their sights. brandishes a pearly grin at the thought of being able to cater personally to his future missus.

“Also if your boring office job is what’s holding you back from spending quality time with us then I can think of a couple solutions to—“

“Um, let me stop you right there man. Whatever you’re pitching would be nice and all but I need my work wife.”

Once again you missed the small micro transgression within the Dilf’s facial features as his eye twitched at the irksome interruption done by that worthless dickbag.

“Aha work wife? With someone like you? I see you’re the type to joke around huh?”

He replied in an tone of condescension giving Miki a mean spirited smile. And an idle glance over full of scorn at the self assured confidence in this boy, who was proclaiming that his darling was his work wife.

“Well I am quite the jokester—wait what the hell do you mean by someone like me??”

You nearly busted out laughing at how Miki got a miffed expression on his face from the subtle dig done by the famous actor. You didn’t necessarily claim to be Miki’s work wife as nice as his company was. He was an utter shitty coworker to have when you’re trying to get shit done. Whenever you two were paired it’d be him cracking jokes while you were working like an effective machine.

“Well If anything they’re my work wife, no my wife, since yknow she’s looking after my kid like the little darling angel she is”

Quio nearly purred with a sharp edge to his voice as he blatantly rubbed it in Miki’s face the sheer difference. Between the two of them and how he was ultimately more important in your standings.

“Anit that right sweetness?”

The single dad hummed with a sickening sweet expression that resembled a hopeful doe eyed buck. His shouldering eyes never failed to make your heart do kick flips from how they always seemed to focus on purely you. Almost as if you were his world, his missing half. You got extremely flustered that you could barely even respond to his words. Until Miki let out a sneer and fixed his apparent love rival a shrewd scowl.

“Oh please as if! She’s your Nanny, not your substitute wife. Plus I already called dibs on her first, my guy.”

The sight of that damned flea mansplaining on the couch with the slinging over his arm right behind your head. Made Quio imagine ripping that same offending arm from our his socket and bitch slapping him with it.

“Dibs? Are you insinuating that she’s an object to be possessed by the likes of a peasant like you?”

He taunts snarkily, dropping his nice guy facade as makes his way to sit right in between you and Miki. Squeezing his bulky frame in the middle of the couch he gracefully crosses his legs as he swats off the offending arm behind your head and replaces it with his own.

“Tch! Now you know that’s not what I meant. It’s always you actors spinning fabricated lies. And the fuck did you just—“

“Miki don’t you think that it’s time for you to go soon? You’re gonna be late for work”

You interjected seeing how things were getting out of hand between the two offending men. Quio merely gave a smug smile as he saw Miki begrudgingly get up with an scowl on his face. You were right he had to go soon since he couldn’t be late for his promotion into higher management. He didn’t tell you that yet because he wanted to surprise you on the day you both worked the same shift.

“Ah fuck your right, thanks for the reminder what would I do without my precious work wife?”

Miki emphasized loudly, Shooting a glare towards the A-listed actor as he then gave you an abrupt hug goodbye whilst still glowering at the Dilf. The two seemed to be exchanging a clash of mixed silent threats behind your back.

Quio “gently” nudged Miki away from his darling with a hard shove with the pointy tip of his shoe upon his midriff. Making your coworker stumble back with a sharp exhaled grunt escaping his lips. Good, he hoped that fucker gets sore down there. The single dad was always about getting his get back by being petty whenever someone blatantly tried to piss him off.

“Alright that’s enough Casanova wouldn’t wanna keep your bosses waiting yeah?”

The Dilf chirped in a sweet noncommittal manner as he briefly pulled you into a side hug. As if to cleanse you from the poor touch Miki had given you. Miki had to bite back his tongue since he really couldn’t afford to waste time with the man’s shenanigans. And rolled his eyes he could only afford to shoot you a word of warning with concern shining in his eyes before he made his way outside of the million dollar manor.

“Be careful… You know how actors are, always so full of shit. Call me when you’re done I’ll come to pick you up okay?”

“Yeah yeah, don’t let the door hit cha on ya on the way out Miki”

Quio sassed as he couldn’t wait to have that cocky fucker out of sight and out of mind. There were so many times where the actor came close to acting out. One of his many aspiring roles which consisted of him being a deranged serial killer. It would’ve gave him peace of mind to choke out that lanky shithead and watch the life leave his eyes.

But he had better things to do at the moment rather than drone in about how he’d murder Miki in cold blood. Like wooing you over for instance which was unfortunately put on pause due to a pest intent on getting in the way between you and him. So he feels a sense of relief wash over him as Miki leaves, knowing that he can finally have you all to himself.

“It seems like you two get along well enough already”

You caught the Dilf off guard with your off handed comment as he gave you a raised brow and an apprehensive smile. He shook his head slightly and gave a dark chuckle at how naive you were to perceive their little spat to be that of a friendly origin. When they clearly wanted to go at each others necks.

“It would seem so… But hey I was wondering if you’d be interested in—“

His phone decided to go off in the most headache inducing way. He could hear the annoying ringtone which indicated that his manager was calling and he bit back a snarl from being interrupted once again. Collecting himself he excused himself from the couch not being fore taking your hand in his and giving it a small chaste kiss as he gave you an apologetic gaze.

“Sorry about this sugarling I’ve gotta take this call I’ll be right back”

With his servants taking leave at his behest today was the day he planned on tying the metaphorical knot with the cute Nanny that stole both his and his little girl’s heart. So his manager had better got a pretty damn good reason for bugging him on his day of vacation leave. Or else they’ll get added to the hitlist alongside that damned coworker of yours.

。

。

。

I’m thinking of making this into a mini series, let me know if I should continue!o(≧v≦)o

[ghouldtime]

Aquarium Trip with TF141

Because I fish I could go with them lmao, assuming that it's a big group trip

Captain John Price

Ever the leader of the group, he's making sure that everyone is keeping their phone on vibrate or low volume so no one can end up being a straggler who they have to go on a man hunt for

He wants everyone to at least be able to enjoy themselves but he's not going to be chasing them down, desperately trying to find them in the crowd. Just occasionally check your phones and you'll be all set. He's still as observant as always, keeping an eye out and his head in the game, even if he's supposed to be "Relaxing". He's a firm believer in never being too certain or wary

The group trip was more or less mandated as a 'go do things as a group so you can stay sharp, actually use down time, and bond'. Also because Price was needing a break, as much as he said he didn't, and the only way to get him to take it is to force him out of the office

Admittedly he can't be too peeved when the others seem excited (minus Ghost but what can you expect), AND there are a bunch of cute fish and creatures alike to look at

He takes his time with the exhibits - he's stopping to read the cards and identify the fish and other critters. Pair up with him if you want to actually take a breath and enjoy the experience at a reasonable pace

He'll content to just follow in the footsteps of the others and enjoy the day as much as he can, for once, taking it as it is. It's nice to not have to constantly lead or direct when they're fine doing their own thing and he can do his

It's not often he gets any form of time off or relaxation so you bet your ass he's trying his best to do such and make the most of the day he was forced to take. It's a conscious effort, too. He's so used to being in work mode that shutting that off is near impossible

It's why he doesn't go alone and someone is ending up as his buddy. Having someone there to talk can help get him out of his own head and focus on the present moment. You may have to snap him out of it every so often as he keeps thinking too much, it's a habit

Not to mention he likes having somebody there to tell his stories to. Idle chatter helps distract and helps him get closer to those around him. He's well aware he's often work focused so it is quite needed to shift his attention to the human aspect of it. His humanity is often hanging on by a thin thread so doing what he can to reconnect is vital to keep his head screwed on straight and to remind him what he's fighting for

You'll likely end up with him, sitting and watching the ocean tank - full of fish and sharks alike. It's an ever changing environment yet repetitive all the same, it puts him at ease to simply watch. He's quite fond of the stingrays. They remind him of himself :) (as in they can be hidden in plain sight and can kill you in an instant)

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley

Despite the fact he would rather not be out in public when possible, he didn't exactly protest the idea of the aquarium. Sure, it could be busy but that means he can walk off undetected and hide in whatever dark corner he so pleased until they were done. He was already planning that from the get go

Seeing as his father used animals to psychologically abuse him during his childhood, he's usually quite reluctant to be around them and usually isn't much of a fan. It's not that he hates them, he knows it isn't their fault, he's just... Weary.

He knows that they won't and can't do anything to him, especially behind glass, but there's always that nagging fear and persistent memories that haunt him that urge him to stick to the shadows and wait it out

He has a reason to avoid pretty much every tank. Eels? Like water snakes, too slimy. Jellyfish? Remind him of being stung on a beach off the Gulf of Mexico. Otters? He's sharing with you the unfun otter facts of what messed up animal stuff they do

Yes, he is an utter stick in the mud. He is well aware of that. But the fact that he's even there to begin with is significant progress. It's like voluntary exposure therapy - he's at least trying to work through it, bit by bit. Having the team there helps and they're aware of what is going on, so they simply give him the space he needs to work out his own emotions. No one is there to judge, they're just there to have fun

They all check in on him to see how he's holding up. You're absolutely welcomed to too, or you can spend some time hanging out with him, exchanging terrible fish jokes to help lighten the mood. Just don't expect to go around with him or have him follow through the exhibits

Simon knows he wanted to push past a barrier of some kind aside from simply being there, so he decided to pick a singular exhibit to actually visit on his own - it would be a way for him to reclaim some more autonomy and prove his thoughts and past couldn't get the best of him. Naturally, he picked the shark one

While he's well aware of the danger sharks pose, he's not actually had a bad experience with sharks... Yet. Their reputation is usually a lot worse than they are. Plus, you know exactly what you're getting into when it comes to them. You know what to expect. It's not like they're hiding their teeth or the fact that they're apex predators

He'll sit on a bench pressed to the wall, watching them idly swim about from a safe distance. He never said he was getting close, but watching them and not instantly being flung back to his worser memories is a HUGE step forwards. Instead, he's a bit more surprised at how he can actually enjoy seeing them move. Seeing such powerful creatures there in the flesh is so much greater than how they appear on TV or in books

Not that he'll admit it, but he relates to them. He too is an extraordinary killer, feared by most, yet understood by few. Many judge based on his appearance alone and misassume, when he's simply trying to live his life no matter the hand that's been dealt to him

He wouldn't protest if you sat with him and watched the sharks for a while in silence. For a man who isn't fond of animals, there's no denying the softness in his eyes as they swim past

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You'll probably actually enjoy hanging around him the most, he's the best buddy to have for trips. He's pretty much following Price if he's not rushing ahead with Soap. He's a bit more mindful in the sense that he will pause and look back, even back tracking to rejoin if they were getting too carried away

He's not the most well versed in all animal facts but he will happily tell you some of what he knows as you pass the exhibits. Did you know most piranhas are actually herbivores? Not the ones you're looking at, those ones are carnivores, but most species are. They're usually quite harmless. Usually. Not during dry season but that's different-

He's quite happy to see a variety of wildlife, from the smallest coral to the hulking fish. He can't say he's exactly used to it or that he's one who keeps an eye out for those things, but it's nice to see. It at least allows him to get a look at things he may otherwise never see or experience

Learning about them is important too because what if he needs it one day in the field??? Being able to identify what's around him, including the animals, can be super helpful. He isn't going snorkeling or to a coral reef any time soon but still, just in case. Gaz is smart, he will ALWAYS take a learning opportunity when he can

He's the one who already has the itinerary for the day with all the shows and educational events, and you BET he is on top of them and is going to go see them all

Please attend with him - he's usually the one picked out of the crowd because he's got the perfect energy. Winning smile? Winning heart? Winning attitude? It's hard NOT to notice him. He already has bad jokes in store and can win over the audience too

You just have to be cool with sitting front row and potentially in the splash zone. He's not sitting in the back, who knows when he gets to do this next? Also, why would you not want to be up close?? You're at an aquarium, there's water, you're going to get wet - that should be PART of the experience

You're both probably going to get a picture with an otter before the day is done

As cool as the other animals are, he's absolutely a fish person. He thinks they're extremely underrated for what they are. There's SO many different kinds of fish and colors too! How can you NOT enjoy that?

He's spending extra time in the coral reef and the fresh water areas because he loves how immersive they are - and just how many fish they have swimming around without many other animals. It is a glimpse into a world we never get to see

He also loves the octopi and squid. Creatures that can camouflage and ambush??? Absolutely wonderful, as far as he's concerned. He loves how intelligent they are too and how underestimated they can be

Stick near him, you won't regret it. He's great company and can happily talk about the different fish all day - and maaaaybe will just revisit a few of the tanks he especially liked (he's already calculating how to get a beta fish by the time you get back)

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish

To no one's surprise, he's leading the charge in. He is absolutely EXCITED about this. Cool animals??? A day with people who he cares about????? Sign him up

The group really just loosely follows him to start. He's got a solid game plan and is watching the crowd to see which is the least crowded area so that you can get the best view

Like I said, he's a man with a plan. Gaz might have the itinerary but he's the one scoping out the floor and already trying to figure out the game plan so you can stick together and see what you actually want to see

He naturally has a presence that can make others move out of the way. One look at extremely buff Scottish man who can have the meanest resting bitch face, and they'll move. That's not even including that you're being followed by three other not so short men. At least it makes for great crowd clearance and he knows it - and yes, he's using it to his advantage

Like Gaz, he too is reading the cards and is quite happy to learn about the creatures there. Not as thoroughly as Price, but he's still at least actively reading and trying to note things down in his mind

He's the one who makes the slightly inappropriate comments out of instinct, forgetting that there may be kids nearby. In his defense, he's not used to that - usually it's just adults. But he can't himself from going "Look of the size of that bloody bastard" while pointing at a grouper

His comments make for great banter, usually it's with Gaz - seeing as Ghost disappeared almost the second after they stepped in. "These little shits can function without a brain" - "Oh, so that makes the two of you :)" . It's like that the entire time, just a lot of back and forth - and yes, it's hilarious

He's not rushing through the exhibits but he certainly is sidetracked when there's so many things to look at and see. It's really a matter of what is catching his eye and why - there's so much to do and so many things he didn't know. It's VERY exciting for him in the best way

Whenever there's a creature he particularly admires, he'll actually stop and sketch it out, jotting down some notes about it in the margins of his sketchbook too. He brought a few colored pencils but it's really mostly just plain pencil

He's actually quite a good artist! As long as he has a wee bit of time to get the rough lines down, he can finish it off later really nicely. But he'd prefer to take his time. The aquarium is a great place for him to practice things like plant life and moving creatures

You're welcome to sit beside him and watch as he draws - or better yet, draw with him if you brought a sketchbook of your own. It fills in for some of the quieter time if you're blessed with a calmer exhibit. If you're lucky, he might even draw something so you can color it in as you wait for the group to catch up

Admittedly, he likes the piranhas. They're known and have a fierce reputation for a reason, but he in particular likes the shimmer of their scales and finds them to be under appreciated in that regard. He finds them beautiful and they're a lot more than their teeth alone

Naturally he also likes any otters or mammals too. He'll usually end up entertaining them, especially if they're seals - they're such funny creatures - they remind him of the seals he saw on the coast whenever he visited as a kid

BONUS

König

Seeing he isn't apart of the group, you'd actually run into him in NORMAL civilian style clothes (still wearing a surgical mask, albeit) if you wandered off on your own or got a bit too ahead - leaving the boys behind

Assuming that you don't happen to know him here, but it was at the seahorse tank. With the little seahorses clinging to the bits of plants that they had, here was this big guy with an utterly adoring expression on his face as he stared at them

He nearly jumped out of his skin when you made your appearance and commented about how neat they were

He couldn't help but to agree, they're such fascinating creatures and they're so tiny. It's a wonder how something that's the size of the tip of his finger can live like that

The whole reason he was at the aquarium was because he liked animals - and because his therapist recommended he get a bit more out of his comfort zone to further work on his social anxiety. Getting exposed to new environments at his pace would do him good in the long run. While he's been fine and can absolutely manage, he does want to push himself to come more out of his shell and to be more comfortable in his every day life. Plus, he has only one life, he needs to live it some

He also wasn't used to seeing so many aquatic animals - it would be something different, something that maybe could give him some ideas later down the line for some of his crafts. And it's a good reminder of how vibrant and diverse the world we live in is. It's easy to forget when you're surrounded by blood and gore all the time

Usually, people are quite intimidated by him, so he was surprised that anyone came up and even tried to say anything to him. But talking about seahorses and the other animals here was a LOT easier than talking about himself or anything else he usually had to default to

When you asked if he'd seen the moon jellies or the crabs yet, and he said no, how could you resist showing him right where they are and pointing them out? He'll love them! They're silly little guys like the sea horses

He's admittedly a bit flustered from the attention and having someone actually want to talk to him, but he finds it easier to open up and naturally when you're just... yourself. And clearly quite excited about being there - or more expressive of it than him

You sort of happen to end up walking along with him, chatting about all the different types of animals there are and what you like about them, or making comments about what they're doing and laughing about it

As awkward as he is - he's still got his sense of humor and charm about him underneath that you uncover as you get him to open up, even just a little bit

It's only when he sees your group at a distance and the recognition of who they are dawns on him . He backs away when you wave to them, making the connection. What a terrible coincidence - but the last thing he wants to do is create issues, especially when he's here to enjoy his day - and he's not wanting a fight, not right now. And especially not in civilian gear or in a place where they all can be banned from

(They do not get along in the slightest, trust me, it would not be pretty if they happened to put two and two together. There's not that many Austrians that tall who happen to have scars like he does)

He's back to making excuses as he back pedals trying to get out of sight before any of them see, but not before slipping you his number. After all, it would be such a shame to let such a good connection go to waste :)

[izvmimi]

cw: bnha manga spoilers technically. fluff.

Over the years, Izuku has gotten more creative at concealing the scar on his forehead, the shiny jagged edge that climbs towards and through his hairline, but since every one of his scars is naturally committed to your memory over the years of watching him and watching over him, it’s hard to hide anything from you. Not that he ever tries. 

His head lays in your lap now as he recounts his day to you, and you aren’t sure when you started the idle motion, but your finger has been gently tracing the length of the cicatrice instead of just scratching at his scalp or playing with the emerald curls and waves. Your mind is beginning to wander just a little as he reaches the tail end of his story and when he finally stops talking, instead reaching his hand up to let it gently rest on your cheek, he whispers to call your attention, and you snap out of it.

“Baby?”

You blink rapidly, then let your fingers run through his hair again as you look sheepishly down at him. 

“Sorry, I just got distracted,” you say, apologetic at your crime of half-listening as you hold him close.

He smiles, easily forgiving you, then cups your face with both hands. “Tell me what’s on your mind then.”

You twist your mouth to the side as you let your hands pat his cheeks playfully antagonistically, then let your hands rest at your sides, the roughness of his scarred cheek in contrast to his unblemished one also a sensation that’s memorized in the skin of your palms forever.

It’s hard to put what you were thinking in words, but it’s nothing more than the fact that you’re made aware once again that you love him - all of him, including his rougher edges, his injuries and his scars, his willingness to do too much even at the detriment of his own body, and you have grown to love the way all his triumphs and tribulations from youth until now have become etched into his body like a canvas the same way you hate that his life has been so difficult all this time. 

But he’s him, and he’s everything to you.

“How much I love you,” you answer. He beams, your shining ray of hope always. 

“Not as much as I love you.”

Sitting up in a flash he’s quick to put himself right in your face, enough to make your face warm at the closeness as if you haven’t been far more intimate; casualties of loving someone who shines brighter than the sun. 

“It’s not a competition,” you remind him with a pout. 

“No, but it doesn’t help to aim to outdo myself every day.”

He kisses you with this, and your hand flies to his cheek again, the scarred one, and in your arms he’s the softest and purest man on Earth.

[dyaz-stories]

found an island in your arms || Eun Hyuk x Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings & tags: angst, eun hyuk deserves a hug and he gets one, eun hyuk is a little controlling towards the reader

previous one-shot

A/N: my entry for day two of @neohumanmonster's Turning a New Leaft event! Prompt: Change in Nature. While this is in relation with yesterday's entry, there is no need to have read it to understand this one, it just provides a little more context.

Eun Hyuk is more tense lately, more irritable. Everyone can feel it, though most people chalk it up to the dwindling rations and the growing fear that the army simply isn’t coming to save you. You can tell that Eun Yu doesn’t believe in that, though, and neither do you.

Eun Yu doesn’t seem to have an actual explanation for her brother’s out of character behavior. She pokes and probes and throws out cutting remarks to see what sticks, but she doesn’t seem all that worried either.

“He does that sometimes,” she answers you bluntly when you ask if she thinks Eun Hyuk is doing alright. “There’s probably something he wants to fix. I’m sure he’ll get there. He just needs a little push.”

That doesn’t satisfy you. You don’t like to sit idle while people are in pain, don’t like to sit idle at all, actually, even if someone is hammering that you’re doing it ‘for the greater good”. But the thing is, you and Eun Hyuk… don’t get along that well. You clashed a bunch in the beginning, before you were outvoted by the people who thought Eun Hyuk would bring them safety, at least. It was a short-term solution, what he was offering, you’d argued — to which he had replied that yours was a death sentence.

You still admired him. The decisions he had to make on a daily basis couldn’t be easy ones to make, nor were the sacrifices. Of course, you still often believed he chose wrong, but you had to admit that he had kept most of the group alive until now, and considering the circumstances, that was truly impressive.

You just wish that he would let you do more. Instead, he’s constantly getting in your way, particularly when it comes to helping the infected. ‘Your abilities could help the whole group’, he’d say. ‘We can’t afford to lose them because you trusted someone you shouldn’t have.’ It drove you insane, how easily he’d interfere, always with these pseudo rational arguments that you never really bought were genuine ones.

It felt as if they were just for show, and as such you never felt all that guilty for going against his orders.

You weren’t dumb. You wouldn’t put others in danger unless they were willing to risk themselves for something. But you also refused to let others get hurt through your own inaction. So if you had to sneak around to see Hyun-Su’s in order to treat his wounds and bring him food, then you’d do as you damn pleased, and neither Eun Hyuk nor anyone else had any say in that. It was your life, and it was your decision.

Still, you can’t say you’re thrilled when you find Eun Hyuk waiting for you when you exit Hyun-Su’s so-called room. He’s leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, and he gives you an annoyed look when you come out.

“What did I tell you?” he asks you coldly.

You grimace. The two of you are almost the same age, and you hate that patronizing tone he insists on taking with you.

“Hyun-Su needed help,” you say. “There is a limit to what even you can ask of me.”

He’s silent for a while. You notice him clenching his fists, and something unusually dark passes in his eyes. His jaw tenses, a vein bulges on his forehead. You think you’ve done it now, that you’re going to get an earful — even if you still don’t quite understand why. There’s simply no reason for him to care that much, and the lack of control is blatantly unlike him.

You’d run into him often, before this whole— thing— started. He was always quiet but sweet, would smile politely when you got in the elevator, maybe exchange niceties with you when you met in the lobby. He’d leave early and come home late, with the look of someone who hadn’t taken a breather all day, but it never appeared to have any effect on his temper.

That’s what’s throwing you off right now. How angry he seems to be.

After what feels like an eternity, he exhales, relaxes his hand.

“I guess you’re right,” he says, but his voice sounds too even now, like it’s forced. “I can’t force you to do anything. I just wish you’d consider that—” He cuts himself off the second his voice becomes strained again, looks away from you.

None of that is normal for him.

“Eun Hyuk,” you say, taking a step towards him. “Is there something wrong?”

He stares in your eyes for a second, and for that second, you think that maybe he’ll give you an honest answer.

“Everything is wrong,” he says in the end, and again, you know it’s nothing more than a half-truth. Then again, you can’t blame him for not telling you. “Can you even remember the last time thing went right for us?”

It’s not that he’s lying, it’s just that you know he’s not being genuine, and so you don’t bother continuing that line of discussion. It unnerves the other residents when you drop a conversation that is clearly going nowhere, makes them think you’re avoidant, but you think Eun Hyuk understands it. Close enough, anyway.

“You should still tell someone,” you tell him.

“I— What?”

“I get why you wouldn’t want to tell me,” you say with a shrug. “I still think you should tell your sister. Or Jae-Heon, I guess, if you’re more comfortable with that, but I get why it can’t be me.” You take a step towards him, put a hand on his shoulder. You do it slowly, as if you were trying not to spook a skittish cat. Eun Hyuk glances down at your hand, but makes no movement to get rid of it. “I’m here if you need me.”

He scoffs, looks away from you, pushes his glasses higher on his nose. But you don’t let go, and he doesn’t actually move away from you.

“I mean it,” you say softly. “If you want to talk, or if there’s any other way to help you. Just let me know.”

He closes his eyes. You wait for it to sink in, then take your hand off, hoping you haven’t pushed a boundary already. As you break contact with him, though, he grabs your wrist without warning, and pulls you into him. Your chest collides with him as he wraps both arms around and his chin comes rest on your shoulder.

You’re surprised by how strong his embrace is, how he clearly doesn’t want to let go.

“Eun Hyuk?” you squeak.

“Just— Just give me a second,” he says, voice so low you barely hear it. “Please. Just let me have that.”

You feel your heart almost breaking at the desperate plea. Slowly, you close your arms around him, start rubbing his back. You’re not sure what’s happening, not completely, but you know he’s warm against you, and you know you need that contact, too.

Seconds go by, until he takes a step back, clearing his throat. He refuses to meet your eyes, but you don’t miss that his cheekbones are dusted pink now.

“Sorry, I—” Then he lets out a long exhale, and appears to get himself back under control. “You offered.”

You’re not fooled in any way by that, but you still nod.

“And the offer still stands. If you need any help, you know where to find me.”

Another long exhale.

“You— Why— Why would you—”

“Because you need help,” you answer. “You’re the one who’s looking after everyone, and I want to make sure there’s someone looking after you, too.” Eun Yu does, sure, but Eun Yu’s a kid, and that’s a lot of responsibility to put on her shoulders.

“Thank you,” Eun Hyuk mumbles, still not looking at you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Then he gives you a vague nod and leaves the hallway without once looking back.

Your eyes follow him, worried. You’re afraid he’s reaching his breaking point. This situation is revealing things about people, about yourself, too, even if you don’t like looking at it. Clearly, it’s changing you.

You can only hope that Eun Hyuk will withstand that change — and be by his side for as long as he needs you to.

hope you're enjoying this! tomorrow's entry will be for hyun-su ^-^ as always, reblogs and comments are strongly appreciated and keep me motivated and writing :)

more writing for sweet home

[chahnniesroom]

for better, for worse | part 2

pairing: lee minho x female reader

summary: an arranged marriage is anything but ideal. minho knows that when it comes to his role as a husband, he's lacking, but you haven't exactly been the perfect wife either. a phone call from you leads to a shift in priorities.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst, descriptions of a car accident, non-graphic descriptions of injury

a/n: this was a highly requested part 2! please please read part 1 before you read this, otherwise it will not make sense. thanks to everyone who commented on the first part, it really motivated me to finish this! i did minimal/basically no editing, so sorry if there's any mistakes!

part 1 | till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

Traffic has slowed to a crawl and Minho tries his best to stay calm, but based on the way his driver keeps checking the rearview window to look at him, he’s not doing a good job. 

They don’t even know the right hospital to go to. You had never specified in your call, so Minho had just looked up the closest one that was on the route to the hotel. 

Honestly, he’s also shocked that he dropped everything to go to you. He just can’t shake the way that you had sounded on the phone. Scared, yes, but mostly… resigned.

You didn’t think that Minho would care, he realises with a jolt. You didn’t think that he would give up this work opportunity to go see you. He feels terrible, of course he does. At the end of the day, it’s not that he hates you, or even dislikes you, but just hates this whole situation. 

He needs to talk to you. Make sure that you’re okay. Explain himself. Apologise.

But first, he has to get to you.

The longer they sit at a standstill, the antsier Minho gets. He can’t stop his leg from shaking and he has to rip off his tie because he feels like he can’t get enough air in.

“There was an accident,” the driver says, speaking for the first time since they left the hotel. They inch forward a little bit more until Minho can see one of the cars in question. It’s completely mangled, the front end is destroyed and there’s debris strewn along the street. It’s no wonder that the traffic is so bad, the site that has been closed off is almost an entire intersection.

“It looks awful,” Minho says, a sudden feeling of dread coming over him. He cranes his neck to try and see the other vehicle and-

It’s almost unrecognisable, but somehow, Minho knows that it’s his car that he’s looking at.

He doesn’t process anything until he’s out on the street, stumbling through the police tape. An officer approaches him, saying something in a calm voice, but Minho doesn’t even notice until they put a hand on his shoulder. He shoves it off immediately. Another officer grabs his arm, this time with more force.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but you can’t be here.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Minho fights against their attempts to restrain him. “It’s- I have to- my wife.” His voice sounds ruined, as wrecked as the vehicles in front of him.

They let him through. 

Minho knows that you’re okay, that you were being treated, that you had been able to call and talk to him. But the damage is so extensive that he’s suddenly doubting himself. It seems impossible that anybody could survive this.

Before he can get close enough to really see inside the car, he stops in his tracks. It already looks so terrible, he can’t bear to any more details that would no doubt haunt him in his dreams.

“Do you know where they took her?” he manages to ask.

“Sir?” The officer closest to him steps closer to hear him better.

“The person that was a passenger. What hospital did they take her to?”

The officer names the closest hospital to the site, the one that Minho had guessed previously. Minho thanks him and spins on his heel, rushing back to where his current driver has been idling on the side. They make it there in record time.

The hospital staff redirect Minho to the intensive care unit when he arrives, giving him sympathetic glances as they do so. It’s on the second floor and Minho doesn’t have the patience to wait for the elevator, opting to run up the stairs instead.

The nurse at the desk in the intensive care unit looks up as Minho approaches. He must look like a mess, but she must be used to this level of dishevelment from visitors based on her lack of reaction.

“I’m looking for Lee Y/n,” Minho pants.

“What’s your relation to the patient?” she asks.

“I’m her husband,” Minho says and for the first time, the title feels natural.

“One moment, please.” The nurse takes her time, typing on her keyboard and clicking her mouse. Minho has to resist the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she understands the urgency of the situation. “She’s currently in room 103.”

Minho immediately starts walking in that direction before she calls out.

“Sorry sir, but her current conditions means that only one visitor is allowed in at a time. You’ll have to wait.”

“What do you mean?” Minho demands. “There’s already someone here? What’s her condition?”

“Yes, Y/n-nim has a visitor with her at the moment.”

“Who.”

“I’m sorry, I was not the attending nurse when he arrived. I don’t know who it is.”

“Can you get them to leave?”

“Pardon me?” The nurse blinks up at him dumbly.

“Leave. I need to see Y/n, she’s my wife! Why can’t I-”

“Sir, I’m going to need you to calm down, otherwise I’m going to have to call security to escort you off the premises,” the nurse says slowly. Minho closes his mouth abruptly and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to take deep breaths.

“Okay, okay, I’m calm. Please can I see her?” Minho pleads. “Can you talk to whoever the other visitor is, tell them that I’m here? I need to know if she’s okay.” The nurse purses her lips together, then stands. Minho almost feels dizzy with relief.

“I will inform Y/n-nim’s doctor and the visitor about your arrival, but that is all. You will have to wait for them to leave before you can enter.”

“Thank you,” Minho says.

He trails after her for a moment until they get to the room that you are staying in. After a pointed glance from the nurse, Minho drops into one of the chairs that line the hallway. She enters the room, closing the door behind her. A moment later, the nurse exits, alone.

“I let them know that you were here, sir,” she says. She leaves, walking back to her station before Minho can get a word in.

Minho sits and waits and tries not to worry and fails. He spends his time wracking his brain on who could be in the room with you and why they would refuse to let him in. He can’t think of who would be informed and have enough time to arrive ahead of him, not when he knows that your parents are currently out of the country.

The door finally opens and out steps Kim Seungmin, your childhood best friend and one of Minho’s least favourite people on the planet. He slows to a stop in front of Minho and takes a moment to study him. Seungmin’s eyes are red and swollen like he’s been crying, but his expression is a careful mask of indifference.

“Minho-ssi,” Seungmin says politely. “I didn’t think I would see you here.”

“Of course I’m here,” Minho bristles. “I’m her husband.”

“Hmm,” Seungmin says, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes as he considers his next words. “That’s never seemed to matter before.”

Minho hates Kim Seungmin.

“I-”

“Take care of her, Minho-ssi.” Seungmin moves closer until he’s practically breathing the same air as Minho. His tone is no longer condescending, just sad. “She’s already hurting. Don’t make things worse.” He side-steps around Minho and continues down the hall. Minho stares after him until he disappears around a corner.

Minho hates Kim Seungmin, but really, Minho just hates himself. Hates that Seungmin has a spot in your life that Minho will never have.

He had been impatient before, but now Minho feels nervous about seeing you. He’s treated you poorly in the past, maybe you wouldn’t even want to see him. Not like you would want to see Seungmin. 

He takes a deep breath, then pushes the door open.

You’re awake, but your eyes look hazy, gaze drifting around the room until they lock onto Minho. Your brows furrow then jump in surprise.

“Minho-ssi? What-” You scramble to sit upright, letting out a hiss of pain the second that you move. The doctor, who Minho hadn’t even noticed, rushes forward, urging you to lie back down without success.

“Please, Y/n-nim,” the doctor says. “You need to rest right now.”

“But-”

“Y/n,” Minho says. Your gaze snaps to him. He hadn’t even realised he has made his way to your bedside until he reaches forward a hand and it touches your shoulder. He leads you back to rest against your pillows and this time, you go willingly.

Now that you’re calmer, the doctor stands. Minho glances over, but immediately turns his attention back to you. He can talk to the doctor later, right now he wants to make sure that you’re okay. Behind him, he hears footsteps leaving the room and the click of the door closing.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

“But, the speech-”

“I was worried about you. I needed to see you with my own eyes,” Minho says quietly. You close your mouth slowly, unable to think of a response.

There’s countless cuts and scratches littering your skin, bandages peeking out from beneath your clothes, bruises blossoming in the remaining skin, and that’s just what he can see at a glance. Almost nothing has been left unscathed. At your side, there’s a number of screens that are each monitoring something and a cluster of IV drips lead back to your arm.

Minho’s afraid to touch, afraid to hurt you even more. 

He ghosts his hand across your cheek before shifting slightly to push back some hair that’s fallen over your face. You watch with wide eyes, not saying a word, although your cheeks slowly flush under his attention.

“I’m sorry,” Minho says eventually, but doesn’t feel like enough. “I know I haven’t been a good husband.”

You open your mouth in protest, but Minho bulldozes on, determined to make things clear even if his heart is hammering in his chest and his words are coming out shaky.

“I’ve been distant, negligent, too focused on work. I know that this situation has been… difficult. That for both of us, it wasn’t what we expected for our futures, but it doesn’t excuse the way that I’ve behaved. I know that even though it wasn’t my intention to, I hurt you.” He takes a deep breath to collect his thoughts. You stay quiet, clearly sensing that he hasn't finished his train of thought. “Y/n, I know there’s nothing that I can do to make up for the hurt that I caused. I know I can’t take back the pain you went through. But I promise, from now on, I’ll put you first.”

“Okay,” you say, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Okay?” Minho asks.

“We can start over, make things right. I know I haven’t done my best in this relationship either, but I want to try again.”

“Thank you,” he says in a hushed voice. “I’m sorry that it took this to make me come to my senses.” He reaches out, grasps your hand in his, careful of all the little cuts. 

Minho holds your hand and he doesn’t let go, even when you drift off to sleep.

part 1 | till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[literaila]

I was thinking, if reader and gojo decided to have a baby of their own, I'd wanna honor Haibara and name that baby after him but I have this gut feeling gojo would hate it. Also most ffs I read where they have a baby, the child inherits gojos limitless but I have a feeling that wouldn't be the case. Watchu think?

“kaoru?”

“boring.”

“izumi?”

“too common.”

“ami?”

“blech, no.”

you sigh, shaking your head at him. “ami literally means beautiful.”

“and boring.”

satoru is sitting at the end of the couch and rubbing your feet (because you threatened him) and you’ve been at this… well, technically six months. but currently? fifteen minutes.

it’s not like you agree on most things—but you didn’t expect satoru to really care all of that much about a name. he might care about the color of the nursery, but he’s not that sentimental. indifferent, if anything.

though, if satoru can defy your assumptions in any way, he’s sure to do it.

it would be kind of sweet… if it wasn’t completely annoying.

“you know you’re supposed to make your own suggestions?” you ask him, wearing his pout. “not just turn down all of mine.”

satoru grins and you groan on instinct. “i like megumi for a girl.”

there’s a cabinet closing from the other room and then a brief: “shut up,” like megumi can’t be bothered to care any further.

you refrain a smile and point a finger at your antagonistic husband. “don’t ridicule the blessing,” you tell him, and very sternly too.

“i heard that too,” megumi mumbles, setting down two mugs on the coffee table.

you grin at him in thanks. “i know.”

while satoru pours a gallon of sugar in his tea and megumi idles through the baby names book you’ve been hoarding, you close your eyes, thinking again.

“how about sayuri?”

“that’s too close to mine,” satoru resumes his methodical feet massage, much to your relief. “we’d get confused.”

“that’s not even remotely close to satoru.”

satoru make a face. “besides i don’t want any flower names. too girly.”

megumi frowns, snorting. “she’s a girl.”

“and you’re a boy but you still—“

“don’t even,” you interrupt satoru, kicking his leg. he sticks his tongue out at you because he is very mature. “you make a suggestion, gojo.”

“i already did,” he wags a finger at megumi tauntingly.

“so two megumi’s in the house is fine, but god forbid her name shares a syllable with yours?”

satoru pretends to consider it. “yup.”

“i’m moving out soon,” megumi tells you, rolling his eyes at his father—they have a very loving, respecting relationship (obviously).

you pout again and megumi nudges your mug—more of a mother hen then you’ll ever be. you grab it reluctantly, and he turns away.

“see!” satoru points at him, reaching over to ruffle the boys hair—and failing. “he’s okay with it.”

“i do not find you funny, satoru.”

“yeah, you do,” he grins at you, tickling your feet just enough to make you squirm. you would have a fond look on your face, of course, if you didn’t have a reputation to uphold.

no one can know that you actually like satoru and the stupid things that he says.

and you both glare at each other for a minute—or two—but then megumi murmurs, “i like akemi.”

you blink and look at him, but he’s staring down at the book in contemplation.

hes really been so helpful with everything. cooking dinner when you’re tired, dealing with satoru constantly, going with tsumiki to find baby clothes and useless (but adorable) baby shoes.

you can’t help the little twitch of your lips, or the admiration the pit of your stomach holds for him. “that’s pretty,” you whisper, sitting up again, “bright, right?”

megumi nods.

you turn to satoru, eyebrows raised.

he immediately rolls his eyes. “no.”

“what? come on, that’s nice.”

satoru crosses his arms, your feet aching with his absence. “i’m not taking suggestions from a fifteen-year-old.”

“are you kidding?”

he frowns at you, eyes shining much too bright for the middle of the day—or anytime, really.

you nudge him with your foot and lean back again, readjusting. “why are you better at this than your father, megumi?”

“hey!” satoru sits up, looking dejectedly at both of you. “he just has more room in his brain to think.”

megumi snorts and you laugh, sipping on your tea again.

“it’s true,” satoru insists, “it’s hard being gojo satoru.”

you roll your eyes and nod exaggeratedly. “oh, i’m sure. big decisions to make.”

satoru pouts.

megumi hums. “glasses or blindfold, today?”

“should i threaten this kid with execution, or save his life?”

at that, megumi actually laughs and satoru slides even further down on the couch, arms still crossed.

“that was once,” he says, glaring at the both of you.

you blink at him.

“twice.”

“and yet you still can’t decide on a name,” you tut, megumi is still flipping through the book, trying to hide his smile.

“where is tsumiki when you need her?” satoru whispers, looking back towards the hallway. then he scoffs. “and i would decide if your names weren’t bad.”

“your name is literally satoru—“

“kazue?” megumi interrupts, tapping on the table.

satoru rolls over, groaning. “ugh, no.”

you sigh again, looking down at your belly. the baby is lucky that she has three more months before she has to deal with any of this.

“we may need to replace your father,” you tell her.

at that, satoru basically squawks.

***

of course. they are having a girl because megumi needs another sister. so no haibara—but reader does suggest yu.

and besides i think she would want to save that name for nanami and refrain from crying every time she has to fill out a school form for her third child.

to answer your other question—it does seem unlikely for the baby to inherit satoru’s techniques (considering he’s the first in a century) but maybe the genetics are just that strong.

i wish i knew more about the actual statistics of cursed techniques and how often they’re passed down/how many people receive a technique from their parents. based on what megumi says (“how many people have you met that can actually see curses?”) it’s probably more likely that their baby has no cursed energy at all.

it would be fun to play around with their techniques though. and to imagine satoru teaching another poor child how to manage cursed energy.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 5

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

When they call your name, you barely react. It isn’t until Andy stands that you realise it isn’t all in your head. You’ve been there for hours. It’s night time and your head is throbbing with tears and exhaustion. Your steps are hollow and unsteady as you cross the waiting room to the nurse. 

Andy walks behind you as you hug yourself and chatter in the sterile cold hallways of the hospital. You’re let into a dim room where your dad lays beneath the light of a bedside lamp. Your own fatigue is underlined by the shadows all around. You rub your eyes with your sleeve as the nurse hangs a clipboard at the foot of the bed and turns to you. 

“He’s sedated. The doctor stitched his wounds and he was given a transfusion. He should recover however we will need to wait for him to be conscious before we can complete all cognitive testing,” she explains. 

“Oh,” you chew on the sweater cuff, unsure what to say. You’re still terrified. 

“Thank you,” Andy says, “when will the doctor be back? We’d like to ask some questions.” 

“Tomorrow. He’s attending the full floor so unfortunately, he’s not available at the moment,” the nurse answers, “the cafeteria won’t be open until 4am but there’s a drive through just down the street. Like I said, he’s under heavy sedation. He likely won’t wake up for some time.” 

You nod and nervously continue to nibble on the fabric, keeping an arm folded over your middle. You look at your dad as Andy thanks the nurse again and she leaves you, giving a reluctant explanation of the call bell. You wiggle your tingling nose as you near your dad and stare at him. 

He’s always been cantankerous but lively. He’s loud where you’re more laid back. He might have his flaws but there were moments you wouldn’t trade. No one’s perfect and he tried his best for all his mistakes. You hate seeing him so... empty. 

“Well, I guess we can hang around, wait for the doctor at least,” Andy suggests. 

“You can go back,” you murmur as you hover by the bed. “I’ll be okay.” 

“Oh, I can’t...” he protests softly, “I wouldn’t feel right. Besides, it’s too late. Cottage country isn’t much for street lights.” 

You hum and blink against a swell of tears. You just want to be alone so you can cry. You dip your chin down and heave a sigh. 

“Look, I... I lost my mom a few years ago. It wasn’t easy, I know but you’re doing yourself no favours wallowing in dread,” he stands near to foot of the bed, “just take a break. Let’s go get some food.” 

You rub your cheek, your eyes fuzzy and itchy as they long to close. You shake off the tiredness and look at Andy. You shrug. You are starving now that you think of it. 

You walk towards him and he backs up. 

“Sweetheart, it’s going to be alright,” he assures you. 

You don’t respond as you walk past him. He follows you out and pauses by the door, reciting the room number before he continues on next to you. He points and nudges you through the halls as you walk aimlessly. 

You go out into the night and ground yourself only as you sit in the passenger seat, the vibrant glow of a drive through sign beaming through from the other window. You look over, the drive down the street lost in the haze of your disbelief. 

“Hey, what do you want? Chicken or beef?” Andy asks. 

You swallow, “chicken?” 

You look back out into the dark bushes opposite the order box and sink in the seat. It just can’t be real. You were on vacation. You were up at a cottage, enjoying the lake and the sun, and then suddenly, the blinding white lights of the hospital and now this. A burger joint somewhere west of nowhere. 

Andy pulls around to the window and idles as you wait. The wafts of french fries stirs your stomach. You look down at your lap as you pick at your nails. 

“There’s nothing I can say to make this better. Or easier but I’ll do whatever I can,” he says as he reaches over you squeeze your shoulder, “just let me know anything you need, sweetheart.” 

He keeps his hand on you, rubbing your upper arm as he watches you. You just peer into the fog that clouds your distant stare. His hand climbs up to tickle your cheek and you flinch away in surprise. You look at him as the window snaps open and he reaches to take the food. You touch your cheek and frown. You must be imagining things. Or maybe it was a bug. 

He hands you the drinks and the bag and pulls out of the drive thru. He steers into and empty spot and parks. You open the top of the bag and sort it out between you. You don’t taste it but you devour it. You’re ravenous. The act of eating keeps you from feeling. 

“We could find a place closer to the hospital,” he says. “If we gotta be out here for a while.” 

“I told you, you can go back,” you mutter as you hold the straw just in front of your lips. 

“I don’t feel right leaving you. If it was Jacob, I’d hope your dad would do the same,” he flips on the overhead light and unfolds a napkin, “oh, jeez,” his lips curve slightly and he reaches across, surprising you as he wipes your chin, brushing your lower lip, “you got something.” 

You wince again and lean away from him, sucking the straw to hide your discomfort. He pulls back and crumples up the napkin. He goes back to pick at his tray of fries. 

“How long... he can’t stay up here, can he? Can’t they send him home?” You wonder. 

“Well, I don’t know, does his insurance cover medical transfers?” Andy asks. “You know, I’ve seen a lot of insurance cases in my time, they’ll find any loophole not to pay out.” 

“I... didn’t think of it.” 

“How can you? You’re dealing with a lot right now, and that’s understandable,” he says, “so let me take a little bit off your plate.” 

You inhale and let it out all at once. He’s right. You don’t know how to do any of this. You’re not ready for this. You’re not even out of college. You’re not really an adult yet. 

“Thanks,” you murmur. 

[screebyy]

Part 6: The Summit Prev | Next (Soon™️) | Start

Two parts left! sorry to end on a lil cliffhanger of sorts. also sorry i'm going to continue to be very mean to jolyon. also also sorry i will not be finishing this before tfs launches lol 🥲

ID below cut like and subscribe etc

Panel 1: Wide shot of Crow and Jolyon sitting on a rock on the summit of a mountain, looking down at the dreaming city below. The sun is starting to rise over distant mountains, and the dreaming city is covered in taken essence, with black taken orbs hanging all around it. Jolyon is leaning forward with his arms crossed and his elbows resting on his knees, while Crow is leaning back on his hands. Jolyon: “Thanks for doing this with me.” Crow: “Of course. It’s been… really nice, catching up.” Jolyon: “Yeah…

Panel 2: Close up of Jolyon’s hand from the side. He is curling it into a tense fist where it’s resting on his bicep. Jolyon: “... Can I ask…”

Panel 3: Close up of Jolyon’s face in profile. He is staring straight ahead with a pained expression on his face as he speaks. Jolyon: “Why now?”

Panel 4: Side view of Crow as he turns to look at Jolyon. He has a curious expression on his face. Jolyon (offscreen): “A few years ago… I heard about what happened, with Savathun. That you had remembered your past life.”

Panel 5: Side view of Jolyon. He is turning away from the Crow, and his expression is not visible. Jolyon: “When you didn’t reach out… I guess I just assumed you hadn’t remembered me.”

Panel 6: Side view as Crow looks at Jolyon with a mournful expression. Crow: “I…”

Panel 7: Crow turns forward again, looking down at the ground with a sad expression. Crow: “I’m not sure I did, at first.” Panel 8: Flashback of the Radiant Accipiter, idling in empty space. Crow is visible through the windshield of the ship, he is hunched over in the pilot’s chair with his head in his hands while glint floats beside him. Crow (Present day): “He was so far gone at the end - whenever I tried to think about his life, it was like a bomb going off inside my brain.”

Panel 9: Close up of Crow looking down past the camera. He is clutching his face with both hands, one hand is tearing desperately at his hair while the other is covering his cheek, nose and mouth. He has a horrified, distant expression on his face, and a tear is running down his cheek. In the background, a cracked surface shows many scenes from Uldren’s rampage. One fragment shows a close up of Uldren’s eyes as he turns towards the viewer with a hateful expression. Black rivulets of corruption are flowing from his eyes like tears, and the sclera of his corrupted eyes are black and seeping into the iris. Another fragment shows several dead corsairs lying on a stone floor in pools of blood. Another fragment shows a close-up of Cayde-6’s face, staring up at the viewer defiantly. His face plates have been badly damaged. The final fragment shows a close up of Uldren’s hand holding the Ace of Spades hand cannon, with smoke coming out of the barrel. Crow (Present day): “Nothing made sense, all I could feel was… what he felt. The things he did…”

Panel 10: A wide shot of Crow lying in bed, bundled up in his blanket. The room is dark, and a window is open, with bright sunlight shining in through the curtains. Crow (Present day): “But eventually…”

Panel 11: A close up of Crow holding Glint with one hand. Glint’s eye is closed, and he is humming gently. Crow (Present day): “I was able to start picking up the pieces.” Panel 12: Closer shot of Crow lying in bed. He is clutching Glint against his chest with one hand, rubbing his shell gently. With his other hand, he is holding a golden ring on a chain. He is staring blankly at the ring with a sad, tired expression. Crow (Present day): “To put together who he had been before.” Panels 13, 14, 15, and 16: A sequence of fuzzy, incomplete memories. The first is a shot of Jolyon in his uniform, from his waist to his chin. Most of his face is not visible, but he seems to be scowling. He is partially obscured by a misty, dark blue background. The second memory is a shot of Uldren lying back in green grass on a sunny day, eating raspberries. He is looking to his right, at someone just offscreen. He is laughing lightly, and looks peaceful as he holds a raspberry up to his mouth. The third memory is a shot of Jolyon’s dark blue Supremacy rifle leaning against a wall, next to where his green cloak is hanging. The fourth memory is a partial shot of Uldren resting on his hands and knees above Jolyon, who is not visible. Uldren is shirtless, and a golden ring is hanging from a chain around his neck. Jolyon’s hand is reaching into frame, holding the ring in his palm where it hangs. Uldren is smiling down at him warmly. Crow (Present day): “You were… A puzzle that took me a long time to figure out. A face I couldn’t quite name, a feeling I couldn’t quite place.”

Panel 17, 18, and 19: Another sequence of memories, which are more clear than before. The first panel is a head-on shot of Uldren, staring up past the viewer with a confused, strained expression. The scleras of his eyes are black, and the corruption is starting to seep out of them. The second panel is a head-on view of Jolyon, staring down at Uldren with an intense, searching expression. The third panel is of Uldren, who is looking away to scratch at his right eye with the heel of his hand. His hands are cuffed together at the wrist, and he looks frustrated, and distracted. Crow (Present day): “When it finally came together, And I realized how terrible he had been to you… I was too ashamed.” Panel 20: In the present day, Crow is leaning forward, and staring distantly down at the ground, while Jolyon watches him talk. Crow: “To let himself fade away like that, to forget you, while you were standing right in front of him…”

Panel 21: Close up of Jolyon as he looks away, and stares sadly into the distance. His brow is furrowed and he looks conflicted and tired. Crow (offscreen): “I didn’t think I could face you, after that. I didn’t think you’d want me to.” Jolyon: “...”

Panel 22: front view of Crow and Jolyon sitting side by side. Crow is leaning forward heavily, looking down at the ground with a grim, slightly frustrated expression. Jolyon is turning slightly towards Crow, though he is not looking directly at him and is expression is sad and distant. Jolyon: “What changed your mind?”

Panel 23: Close up of Jolyon’s face. He looks slightly surprised and is looking directly at Crow, offscreen. Crow (offscreen): Petra.

Panel 24: Shot of Crow as he hunches away from Jolyon, rubbing his right arm self-consciously. He is glancing out of the corner of his eyes back at Jolyon with an uncertain, guilty expression. Crow: “Last week, hunting Riven’s eggs took us… Somewhere that reminded me of you.”

Panel 25:  Close up of Jolyon as he watches Crow out of the corner of his eyes. His brow is slightly furrowed, and he looks uncertain.

Crow (offscreen): “After we got back, I asked Petra how you had been, and…”

Panel 26: Close up of Crow. He is smiling lightly, staring down at the ground with a distant, soft expression and blushing faintly. Crow: “She talked some sense into me. Reminded me that I shouldn’t just assume you were better off never knowing me. That I at least owed you the chance to make that decision for yourself.”

Panel 27: front view of Crow and Jolyon sitting side by side. Crow is turning back towards Jolyon with a soft smile. Jolyon is also looking at Crow, smiling faintly. Crow: “I guess… some things haven’t really changed, right?” Jolyon: “Ha.”

Panel 28: Close up of Jolyon’s face from the side. He is staring straight ahead again, smiling faintly. Jolyon: “Right…”

Panel 29:  Jolyon looks slightly down, his smile has fallen and his brow has furrowed as his expression grows distant. Dark, scratchy marks are bleeding into the edge of the panel, fading out the edges. Jolyon: “...”

Panel 30: extreme close up of Jolyon’s eye, squeezed shut. Dark scratchy marks surround the panel, creating a chaotic background and bleeding into the panel. Voice offscreen: “Jolyon…”

Panel 31: A younger version of Jolyon turns towards the camera from the side, with a confused expression. His hair is pulled back into a bun, and he is wearing a light green sweatshirt. The background is faded purples and blues, and Jolyon is outlined in surreal surreal shades of pink and purple. The panel is outlined by dark scratch marks, spiky thorns, and black flowers outlined in vibrant shades of pink, purple, and green. The text bubbles appear to be glitching out, with scratchy fragments coming out of them. Voice offscreen: “Why’d you do it?” Jolyon: “What?”

Panel 32: Shot of Uldren sitting on a rock, from behind. He is leaning forward, resting his hands on his knees, and staring down at the ground. His hair is falling over his face, and his expression is not visible. The surreal lighting continues in this panel, and Uldren is outlined in pinks and purples with the panel being surrounded by dark scratch marks, spiky thorns, and black flowers outlined in bright colors. Uldren: “Why did you come with us, Jol?”

[morbidmorbid]

rare affections i think s2 daryl would like.

fingers scratching at his beard. this is usually followed by typically smaller qualms; brisk disagreements within the group. it was talking to him under the shade of the tree, listening to him swear out selfish complaints about anything, everything. it was telling him to shut the hell up and bringing a chiding hand up to swat at his ears and it stays there then, like appeasing a cat with light scratches rather soothingly against his jaw and beneath his chin.

daryl would nudge away at first like he always did, but he wanted it—needed it more, perhaps—if the way he’d simultaneously lean into it was telling. it seemed it killed him, too—to accept something like this, to surrender to someone, to allow himself to sit and think for a moment.

and he would indeed shut the hell up, fiddling with a handful of arrows with a dwindling frown. it didn’t do much damage control otherwise a bigger situation, though in these observantly smaller moments it did enough.

playing with his hands. he pretends that he hates it, ‘hurts like shit,’ he’d say when you massaged the knuckle, kneaded the palm. the filthiness that he never seemed to wash away would turn up on your own hands as you kept in contact with his. daryl’s flexing fingers and tight joints were a combination that you had to work through, and while it seemed to ease him a bit, it did for you as well.

he would usually talk through it, seemingly not understanding having an idle mouth and mind. if you eased him at the muscles, you simultaneously couldn’t at the mouth. he would talk about his missing brother, about sophia, about the farm and how much disdain he had for the group. and so often would he pause in between spits of negativity to eye the way you soothed over the skin of his hands, and when the air stiffened with his realization of finding a comfort in something, he would swat you away. “s’enough.”

but later when he’d been worked up by something else and you watched the way he mimicked on himself what you often done to him, it was reassuring.

forehead kisses. another thing he pretends to dislike—or rather him declining an act so foreign to himself. it always shocks him, always makes him flinch, always keeps him up and a bit lost. you typically feel that urge whenever he’s hurt or on the brink of sleep or thinking entirely too much and you do it to reassure him without the words. you’re going to be okay. yes, it’s alright to sleep. relax, this doesn’t all fall on you. if it helps or not isn’t too clear at first. if he’s lying down, he is quiet, unreadable eyes on you until he’s turning in the other direction and ending whatever thoughts had even dared to make a head.

but after some time, after he’s expecting it, he practically asks for it. when he’d been grazed, bruised and bandaged and forced to spend valuable time in bed, he talked with you in the midst of the night. you talked loads and he listened and for a while it halted his complaints of being in recovery, and when the night and conversation came to a close, he’d look at you in a way; someone who yearned for something they’d never had. like someone addicted to something that they should have been given but was not.

so when you’d read him completely with a peck to his temple, that’s when he’d finally roll over.

this could probs pertain to daryl at any point in time i think but my obsession for him in the earlier seasons makes me imagine these things in the earlier stages and how they’ve developed idkk. also i want to add that i can only see this being a thing specifically if reader and daryl have known eachother prior to the outbreak, not exactly a relationship but an establishment of something ..

but yes i have a terrible horrible brain eating “i can fix him” delusion and that is why i wrote this

[lovebugism]

Hello there! For a blurb, could I request either Steve or reader making a mixtape for the first time for the other? Also, hope your brain is able to get some good rest!

ty for your request anon! — steve's shy gf loves to spoil him 'cause he deserves to have nice things (established relationship, fluff, shy!reader, 1.1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

When you first started dating, Steve learned two things about you, very quickly.

One, you’re not great at expressing your feelings. And two, you love giving him gifts.

Both are equally hard for him to stomach.

He hates when you don’t tell him how you feel — when you choose to suffer alone rather than let him in on your suffering. It doesn’t matter how many times Steve tells you that you’re not burdening him or that he’d swim oceans to appease you. You keep to yourself most times, very rarely vulnerable.

What you lack in your ability to communicate, you make up for in gifts. And not the “here’s something shiny because I’m trying to buy your love” kind of gift his parents always got him. What you give him is far more sentimental. The full-blown, hand-made, holy-shit-this-took-a-lot-of-effort sort of gift.

You paint things for him when you have the time. He’s got a dozen tiny, vibrantly colored easels decorating his desk and dresser. You make him jewelry, too, out of pretty pastel beads. Steve wears your initial, along with various hearts and stars and circles, on his wrist every day. 

You wear his, too — on your pulse when you visit him at Family Video. 

Closing shift, Saturday night, a billion other things you could be doing, and you’re spending it with him. It makes suffering the graveyard shift a lot easier on his heart.

You’re there for half an hour before you work up the courage to pull your latest present from the pocket of your jacket. “I made you something,” you tell him, finally, somehow quieter than the already quiet store.

Steve’s smiling before he knows what it is. His rosy lips curl into a crooked smile. His tired honey eyes blink up at you. “Yeah?”

He sits behind the bulky computer, slouched in his swivel chair and barely focused on the catalog he’s supposed to be mining through. You’re sitting on the counter beside him, legs hanging off the edge. His right hand lazes on the computer mouse while his left idles on your leg — long fingers curled around your calf, thumb rubbing absentmindedly along your shin.

You nod sheepishly and motion to the cassette tape in your hand.

“What’s this?” he wonders as he takes it from you.

“A mixtape,” you answer with a curt shrug. ‘Cause it’s easier than telling him, “Oh, it’s just tape I spent hours making you so I could compile every song that could maybe come close to describing how much I love you, but even that came up short.”

Steve’s still grinning when he reads what you’ve written on the front of it. 

best songs ever for the best person ever, you’ve scribbled on a sticker you decorated with pink and red hearts. The bottom reads, everything i can’t tell you.

“Babe…” he hums quietly, lovesick eyes flitting up to you. “This must’ve taken you forever…”

Again, you shrug and duck your warming face down to your lap. “It wasn’t that hard…”

Steve’s hand is still caressing your leg, squeezing softly along the back of it. He knows it took work. He knows you won’t admit to it. So he just smiles — a tiny, tight-lipped thing that makes his dimples peek out.

“Thank you,” he mutters with a honeyed fondness. “You know you never have to give me anything…”

“I like doing it… You deserve to have pretty things,” you answer sheepishly.

His grin widens. “Well, I got the prettiest thing right here, so…”

He rises from the cushioned seat to stand in front of you, back aching and legs groaning in protest. 

Your nose scrunches in disdain at his words.

“Too cheesy?” Steve squints and positions himself between your legs. His palms are wide and warm as they settle contently on your thighs.

“A little.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, though he doesn’t really mean it. He just uses it as an excuse to press a kiss to your burning cheek. When he pulls back again, he’s still nose-to-nose with you — still smiling and sparkling at you. 

“I get off in, like, thirty minutes. Maybe I can drive us to Lover’s Lake, and we can listen to the tape and stargaze or whatever. You know, all the stuff people disgustingly in love do.”

“Then why would we do that?” you quip, still shy in your way.

“Very funny.”

You conceal your grin by pursing your lips to the side. “I don’t know… I wasn’t really expecting to listen to it with you.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause it’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not!” he protests, almost offended you would even say so. “What’s gonna be real embarrassing is when I sing all the songs at the top of my lungs to you.”

“Oh, god…” you groan quietly to yourself. 

Sometimes, you think social anxiety is scared of Steve. He’s not afraid to get stared at, especially not when it comes to you. It’d be way too easy for him to roll down all the windows, turn up the radio, and belt all the cheesy love ballads you’ve compiled for him.

Steve grins, pink and crooked. “Exactly, baby.”

“Just promise you won’t make fun of me,” you murmur, gaze turned down to where your anxious hands fiddle with a rogue thread hanging on the hem of his shirt. You say it in a lilt like you’re joking, but you’re still sort of serious.

“When have I ever made fun of you?”

“You know what I mean…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he echoes tenderly in return. 

Because he does. 

You’re trying to tell him that you don’t want to talk about it. You don’t want him to analyze all the lyrics and make jokes when one of them is particularly cheesy. You want to pretend like you’re just listening to the radio and not like every single song is handcrafted specifically for him and the way he makes you feel.

“I’m gonna be too busy kissing the life outta you to say anything, anyway,” Steve promises, wide hands squeezing the outsides of your thighs.

Your face flares hot again. You think if he pressed another kiss to your cheek, you’d burn him.

“Promise?” you press.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he huffs, almost sympathetically, already leaning closer to you. “You’re gonna have to pry me off of you by the end of the night.”

Before you could promise him that you’d never because you want him to kiss you forever and ever and ever, his lips are already on yours.

He kisses you soft at first — several tender little pecks to warm you up like he’s giving you ample time to pull away and tell him you’re not in the kissing mood. It only makes you go deeper. You get more languid, more confident.

Steve lets you kiss him how you want. His mouth is soft and pink and obedient for you. His hands are warm and wide and welcoming, rising from your thighs to the curve of your waist.

You barely make it to Lover’s Lake that night.

[witchthewriter]

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐎𝐃 𝐦𝐞𝐧

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

Warnings: swearing, nsfw included (no one under 18 please).

a/n: I have officially became apart of this ... fandom? Is that what we're calling it? Anyway, I never understood the hype and NOW I UNDERSTAND. However, I do not understand the hype for some COD men, but if you do want me to include them - I will xx Just drop a comment :)

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄

ISTJ

Slytherin

Lawful Good / Neutral Good

Capricorn Sun, Cancer Moon, Libra Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・He may be one of the older members (not by much, he's not even in his forties yet), but he has a huge heart. His experience with danger and violence hasn't made him heartless. In fact, it's made him care a lot more about others.

・You are genuinely the light of his life, the only person he would truly kill for and die for.

・Knowing this can be a bit disconcerting because John looks like such a teddy bear. His smile is so kind and comforting.

・His pet names/ nicknames for you are: "Darling", "My love / love."

・When he comes home, he loves doing things around the house. The feeling of domesticity makes him feel happy

・He also likes telling you to sit down while he does the laundry, kitchen, vaccuuming etc.

・John is extremely handy. Would have a booming business as a handyman. He can fix almost anything.

・He couldn't wait to meet your family.

・John actually made a lot of your relatives swoon. And not purposefully.

・Gets choked up whenever he has to go back to work. Hates seeing the look on your face when he leaves.

・Sidenote: he has the louDEST sneezes, it's very jarring and something you had to get used to. Once you asked him if he was looking for attention and he furrowed his brows while replying:

"Love I'm fuckin' sneezin'?"

・Would actually love having a dog, especially a scary one so you can be protected.

・Speaking of protection: John taught you everything he could about self-defence. As well as going so far as to teach you to attack as well. He would never want you to be in a situation where you didn't know what to do.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

"Hey can I have a…" x "Yes. Whatever it is. Yes."

Love language is physical touch (John) x Is touch starved (You)

Keeps strong eye-contact (John) x Literally can't look in their eyes (You)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Slowburn.

Everyone Could See It But You Two.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Lay All Your Love On Me by Avantasia

I'm Scum by IDLES

I Was Made For Lovin' You by KISS

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 If Price knew you were underage and reading this...he would be very disappointed.

・He actually does like being more dominant, but loves when you initiate sex.

・He loves tickling your thighs with his beard. Sex isn't always serious with John, he loves making you smile

・Needs to feel your hands grabbing his back and shoulders when he's pounding into you

・Doesn't want to be called, "Daddy" or even "Sir." He prefers when you call him by his first name during sex. He wants to escape any ties to his work life

・When you're at the pub (this guy hates the club so pub it is), and he gets a lil tipsy, he always gets horny. John will rub your thighs, your waist, grab the back of your neck (not too hard).

・Can't have sex when certain tv shows or movies are playing. Especially horror ones. You tried it once and when there was a jump scare you both fell off the couch because John freaked out

・He adores those tender moments in the shower. Washing each other, scubbing the places neither can get to.

・If you have any insecurities, John will make them disappear. He truly makes you feel like royalty.

・The absolute King of aftercare, John needs to know you feel comfortable, safe and loved.

・Would never just roll over and fall asleep. He needs you to feel the most important; before, during and after sex.

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 "𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐏" 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇

ESFP

Gryffindor

Neutral Good / Chaotic Good

Aquarius Sun, Taurus Moon, Sagittarius Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・6'2 sexy Scotsman with a lighthearted personality ... god he treats you so well.

・Yes, he does like to tease and taunt, and seeing you riled up is one of his favourite things, but at the end of the day, he's truly a good guy. Who would do anything for you.

・Even after years of being together, he still flirts with you - unashamed at the utter cringe he lets spill from his mouth. But it makes you blush and he loves doing that to you

・His nicknames/pet names for you are: "Babe," "Lass/Lad," "Bonnie" meaning beautiful, "Mo chroí" meaning "my heart" (yes he does know some Gaelic)

・Hates when anyone tries to flirt with you, he'll literally threaten to break both their legs.

・Soap has the ability to get you excited about things he's excited about. It's like a superpower - it's like he knows the button to give you the zoomies or something.

・Or maybe his personality is just really magnetic (especially to you).

・Sometimes he has cravings for Scottish food and when he explains what it is, you shake your head but go out with him to find it anyway.

"Johnny I know what haggis is and I'm not trying it again."

・Has a strong love for his country. He's a true Scotsman.

・You watched a few episodes of Outlander with him. After you swooned over Jamie, he looked at you with furrowed brows and said:

"...you have a Jamie right here."

・Then he paused the tv and stood in front of you, waving his hands up and down himself.

"Literally, right fuckin' here!"

・And he dramatically stormed away...

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

"I'd do anything for you." (Soap) x "As you should." (You)

Wants to go on adventures together (You) x Turns any adventure into a police chase (Soap)

Black Cat (You) x Golden Retriever (Soap)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Home Is Wherever You Are

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Rasputin by Boney M.

Iron Man by Black Sabbath

Flower Of Scotland by Champions United

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 Under 18 and trying to read past this point? Mmm no Christmas presents from Santa then.

・Would actually be into pegging. It came up because he wanted to fuck you in the ass (said much more delicately than that) but you wouldn't unless you could do it to him.

・And as it turns out, he really fucking likes a dildo up the ass.

・Loves sending and receiving nude photos, sexting and phone sex. At least twice a week you have phone sex; always without planning it.

・Sends you dirty voice messages whenever he's bored. He might not even be that horny, he just does it because he knows you love his voice.

・When Soap comes back home, he wants to take things as slow as he can. To savour his time with you.

・He's very submissive when you're together.

・Soap melts when you take the lead...especially if you have a leash (definition of walk him like a dog).

・ Will cum on the spot if you call him a "good Johnny boy."

・Soap would be up for any at least once. But that doesn't mean you have to be. He's happy to take things at your pace, but he will masturbate a lot more.

・And when he does masturbate, he thinks of you. When he's cumming it's your name that he moans.

・Would DEFINITELY wear a Ghostface mask if you wanted him to.

𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎 𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐒

ENFJ

Slytherin

Chaotic Good

Aries Sun, Virgo Moon, Gemini Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・His pet names/nick names for you are all in spanish and refer to how he feels about you to other things like your apperance

・For example, "Mi alma" which translates to "my soul" / "my soulmate". "Mi Amado" meaning "my beloved." "Mi Vida" meaning "my life". And then when he's feeling a bit more playful he'll call you, "corta"/"corto" meaning short. "ojos bonitos" meaning pretty eyes.

・Alejandro's love language is a mixture of physical touch, gift giving and acts of service.

・Whenever he's on missions, he brings something back for you - well it's only fair in his eyes because you're on his mind all the fucking time.

・So he wants to bring back the little gifts and explain what he was thinking when he saw them:

"I got you this little flag, Mi alma, because I thought it would go well with our collection. I know how much you love miniature things."

・Alejandro is the type of guy to know all these homemade treatments when you get sick. He learnt them from his mother and his aunts.

・If you feel sick, he'll make this delicious soup but before you eat it, you have to drink this awful tasting medicine that his family swears by.

・It genuinely works...

・And you feel pretty much healed by the morning

・He loves baths, to the point where he has his own collection of bath bombs, body wash, and oils. Loves the smell of lavender.

・When he's home there's Spanish music playing 24/7. It reminds him of when he was younger.

・He can get very competitve when it gets to card games. Even bloody Uno, if he loses he is so sore about it.

"You cheated!"

"I did not!"

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Easily embarrassed (You) x Cheesy lovey-dovey (Alejandro)

Thinks They're In Charge (Alejandro) x Is Actually In Charge (You)

The Moon and His Star  

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

You Fell First, But He Fell Harder

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

La Flor De La Canela by Maria Dolores Pradera

La Luna en tu Mirada by Los Zafiros

One More Hour by Tame Impala

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 I am not going to be the reason you are corrupted.

・Alejandro and love go hand in hand.

・But when it comes to sex, he shows you his rough side.

・He loves hearing you beg. Even if it's an act that he's receiving (like a blowjob), he still wants you on your knees, begging for him.

"Sí, mi amor. Di cuánto quieres mi polla," (Yes, my love. Say how much you want my cock).

・Will make you ride his thigh if you've been teasing him

・There's a primal side of Alejandro that comes out when he's inside you. He needs to cum inside you.

・Doesn't like the thought of public sex. But he does like to touch your thigh, waist, put an arm around your shoulder. He's very respectful when he's out. But when he gets home, he absolute ravages you.

・Loves hair pulling. Will have a fistful of your hair and pull your head back to kiss you so fiercely.

・Even though he will have you on all fours, pumping in and out of you. When you're both done, he treats you like you're something fragile.

・Tenatively cleaning you up, even bathing with you. He loves baths; sharing them is even better. He'll sit behind you, holding you gently. Whispering how much he loves you.

𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐏. 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐒

ISTP

Slytherin

True Neutral

Capricorn Sun, Aries Moon, Scorpio Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・Is one of the most playful, teasing and bantery (yes I'm making that a word) of the lot. Yes, even more than Soap, who is more flirtacious than teasing.

・Keegan on the other hand, knows that you like his teasing ways.

・His pet names/nicknames for you are "kid," "sweetheart," "

・You actually met when he came back from deployment. But funnily enough, you heard his voice before seeing his face. And as soon as you heard it, your knees went weak.

・He's known at work to be quiet and not very social around people, but he never fails his missions. And the other Ghosts he works with ... well, he would give his life for them.

・He speaks English but also Spanish ...

・And sometimes when he's really angry he'll start talking in Spanish.

・On multiple occassions you've made him read to you because of how much you like his voice. He doesn't mind it at all. But doesn't understand the plot of the books you read.

"...and why are they holding knives to each other's throats again?"

"Um, because it's enemies to lovers..."

"Okay sweetheart. Just don't get any ideas."

"Already got them," you whispered into the pillow.

・Loves when you come up from behind and hug his waist. Your head resting against his back. You'll both just stand there for a while, living in this pocket of quiet calm.

・He gets headaches pretty easily and it's an ongoing issue

・You make him take pain-relief, a hot shower, something to eat, and if it still hasn't gone away. You'll tuck him into bed and completely block out any sunlight from the room. - Basically you take care of him but in overdrive...

・To return how much love you give him, Keegan is constantly fixing up your car, folding the laundry and getting the groceries. Or even doing the errands that you hate doing.

・Always buys you flowers when he goes out

・He's really into country music, anything that has that desperate passion of a story. Colter Wall is one of his favourite artists of all time, and he's not afraid to admit it.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Soft for exactly one person (Keegan) x Is that one person (You)

"Think they'll try us?" (You) x "Fuck I hope so." (Keegan) (this is usually said in a parking lot when you're having a show-down with another car for a parking space.)

 Love language is physical touch (You) x Is touch starved (Keegan) 

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Enemies to Lovers (Ooof oh big time)

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

O Children by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

The Devil Wears A Suit And Tie by Colter Wall

Kingdom Come by The Civil Wars

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 Dude if you're under 18 pls don't read this.

・When he's horny, he'll start giving you little bites over your body. It makes you yelp and laugh when he continues to do it even though you swat him away

"What are you doing!?"

"Mmmm, nothin' sweetcheeks, just tasting you." (Said with a completely straight face.)

・Really likes to eat ass

・Loves to praise you, to tell you how well you take him and how pretty you look, laying naked - waiting for him.

・Likes to lean on doorways because he knows it turns you on.

・Basically when you told him all the things that get you hot, he mentally memorised them and often uses them to his advantage.

・Loves car sex. Will go through the (automatic) car wash, just for you to sit on his lap... it's something you've done before, so you're both prepared.

・Neither of you have underwear on, so it's easy access

・Loves cockwarming, but can get too horny and start bucking his hips.

・You may not think it, but he will beg after being so long apart. When he gets home, he doesn't even change out of his clothes before kneeling before you, begging to fuck you.

"Please, baby, please. I've been good, I promise!"

・Sometimes you oblige, and other times ... well you like to make him work for it.

[lanormie]

blipped - mcu crossover au (pt. 5)

what if? the event of Thanos snap happened in the BNHA universe? you're forced to navigate the aftermath of The Blip, where half of the population get thrown back into existence after disappearing for five years. pairing: pro-hero!Shouto x f!pro-hero!reader (ft. slight katsuki x reader) read on AO3 previous part - next part

Hawks has you started right away, and you’re thankful for it. Time spent idle is time to dwell, even time spent with Shouto in Fuyumi’s room catching up with her stock of mangas does not occupy your mind enough to soften the agony.

So here you are, on a roundabout train route (cause who knows when the direct route is going to get restored) across town to your new agency at 5 in the morning. You’ll need to find a new apartment soon, commuting like this everyday will be time consuming, not to mention hellish with how much it allows you to steep in your thoughts. On top of that, Shouto is helping Rei bring his Dad home this morning, and even though the man will be unconscious, you’re not too keen on existing in the same space as him.

You and Endeavor share a mutual disdain towards each other. The whole time you grew up with Shouto and around the Todorokis, he didn’t speak more than a handful of words to you, only pinning you with a hateful glare whenever he called your friend away. Once severe wounds started showing up on Shouto and he started becoming defiant, you two would start coming up with schemes to get him out of training, or simply sneak away on days he didn’t particularly feel like dealing with his Dad.

And after you found out you also got into UA, your cousin mysteriously got a once in a lifetime job offer in another city, and you had to move away the week before school started, your dream of taking part in the most prestigious hero course crushed. Surprise surprise, you found out later that it was Endeavor who pulled some strings to relocate her, but there was nothing you could do at that point.

As soon as you became independent, you returned to your hometown to find the man had mellowed out a bit. But still, the bastard never offered an apology.

And you’re not about to spend any significant amount of time around him, no thanks.

You open up the rental app on your phone to start an apartment search around Hawks’ agency, and your eyes pop out of their socket.

.

You:

you won’t BELIEVE how much apartments are going for

i might have to sleep under my desk

Sho:

I was talking to Natsuo yesterday

He said a lot of housings were converted into commercial space

Since they were all sitting empty

And now the ones that are left are quickly filling up

You:

yikes

i doubt anything will get passed fast enough to stop the price gouging

anyway

you ready to see sleeping beauty?

Sho:

?

You:

your dad

Sho:

Absolutely not.

Thankfully I have some paperwork I have to do after

So I won’t have to stick around for long once he’s home

I have to go now

I’ll see you later

* * * * *

You’re only one step deep in the door before a feather snatches your bag away and another swoops you backwards and up into the air by your tool belt. You catch a glimpse of Touya two-finger saluting you from one of the upper floor windows on your way up to Hawks, who’s already on the move.

“Morning!” He chirps, looking five coffees deep already at 8AM. “My staff’s gonna handle your paperwork, you’re with me today, hope you don’t mind.”

“Are you kidding?” You flip over and speed up to catch up with him. “I’d rather be out here than sifting through 500 pages of jargon.”

“You’re speaking my language.” He calls the feathers back to his gliding wings now that you’re flying on your own. “Didn’t think you would call back so soon.”

In the whipping winds, you only mutter a barely audible ‘yup’ that tells Hawks everything he needs to know. He slows down to hand you an earpiece.

“If it helps, your old place has terrible PTO policies.” His voice crackles on comms.

“Hey!” You snort. “They were practically raised by Eraserhead, have you seen the man? How can they possibly know anything about time off?”

Hawks full-belly laughs at this, the echoes of his voice in the wind and the sound from your earpiece reverberate in a way that is kind of…foreign.

Right. You’re not with your friends anymore. Mina is not cackling on comms at something Toru said. Denki and Kiri are not talking over each other. Kyoka is not using the wrong channel to flirt with Momo. The one zooming in front of you is not Shouto, Izuku, or Tokoyami.

Or Katsuki.

A page has been turned, yet you’re still wedged in between chapters like a bookmark.

“Trouble’s ahead.” A voice cuts through your gloom. “Robbery on 35th.”

“Put me to work, bossman.” You straighten up, eager to put your inner turmoil on the backburner.

From this point on, you’re truly going it alone.

* * * * *

“You are not going it alone.”

Shouto looks up from his spot at the conference table, where you found him after coming back from patrol with Hawks. You had been led here to finish signing some papers, and you opened the door to Shouto sitting in front of his own contract. He reminded you that ‘I did say I would see you later’, as if that was enough information. So here you are, arguing about how a decision as important as an agency switch should not be made on a whim.

“You can drop the papers off by my desk when you’re done.” Hawks’ personal assistant gives you both a polite smile before making her exit, closing the conference room door behind her.

Trying to ignore the fact that you just made an awkward first impression on the lovely lady, you turn back to Shouto.

“What about your friends?”

“They’ve gone on without me for five years. I doubt my absence will make an impact.”

There’s a tick of something adjacent to sadness in his statement. It’s still spoken as evenly as ever, but it’s void of his usual nonchalance. You suddenly realize, that this is the first time in the past week he lets shown - albeit through a tiny glimpse - that he is not as unaffected by the whole situation as you thought he might be.

Shouto too was misplaced in time. He too is now a jagged piece in the puzzle. In one way or another, you two have each other to commiserate. 

That is until your pursuit of abandoning everything, where you’ve accidentally abandoned him as well.

Your argument dissipates into thin air.

“Do you think we’d ever catch up?” You take a seat next to your two-toned friend.

“I don’t think we need to.” Shouto pens his signature at the bottom of a page, then turns to you. “I’d rather focus on what’s right in front of me.”

You blow air through your lips, completely missing the hint of fondness in his phrase. “You’re probably right, things will get very tense very soon.”

Grabbing a pen nearby, you move to look through your own paperwork, just as a loud knock comes through the…windows? On the 8th floor?

You both look up to see Touya slap a piece of paper onto the glass before getting promptly yoinked away by Hawks. It says in obnoxiously large letters ‘5000 yens. On my desk. Tomorrow. Loser.’

Shouto looks back at you.

“You are very prone to being blackmailed.”

* * * * *

You had managed to explain it was a bet that you didn’t agree to take part in, instead of a blackmail, before Shouto dozed off like he always does on train rides.

You haven’t taken a train with Sho since middle school, so this is extremely nostalgic. You two would always start watching some show or video on his phone with shared earbuds, then he would slip right into a coma half way through, earbud still blaring.

Except now he is a head taller and when he tips over in your direction, his cheek would knock painfully against the top of your noggin.

“You got shorter.” He mumbles groggily, hand reaching for the hood of your hoodie and flipping it over your head.

“Maybe I lost some particles getting put back.” You snort, watching him put up his own hood. “Or maybe it’s your Dad’s genes finally kicking in.”

“That would not be good news for doorways.” He resettles on your head, now that it’s properly cushioned. “Speaking of my Dad, are you okay with him being there?”

“Sho, it’s his house.” You remind him. “Plus, he’s not exactly awake to stare me down or kick me out.”

“Still. He doesn’t inspire comfort.” He muses, perhaps more to himself than to you.

You shrug, and Shouto goes quiet for a while. For a moment you thought he'd fallen back asleep, but then you hear him suck in a breath and speak up again.

“If we can’t find our own apartment, would you like to split one with me?”

You want to turn to look at his face, but his cheek stays steadfast on your head.

You’ve never really co-inhabited with anyone before, except for your cousin. When you got an apartment, despite Katsuki staying over pretty regularly, it was still your own space. You used to prefer it like that. But now after everything, you feel like loneliness would consume you whole at any moment.

Moving in with your best friend doesn’t sound bad at all.

“Only if we keep the thermostat at a reasonable temperature.”

You swear you could feel him smile through layers of hair and fabrics.

“Deal.”