#but i was and we'll never know the answer to that question

[gu6chan]

how do you take your tea / coffee? I don't drink coffee like... At all but in the rare moments I DO have tea I normally like iced, peach tea. That's about it. 😭

if you could be fluent in any language at the snap of your fingers, which one and why? Japanese, all this studying and all I can really do is understand it, forget speaking 😔 either that or Mandarin, for it's usefulness.

when do you wake up? About 8 or 9, though it's been hard for me to get out of bed till like 11 or 12 lately...

what was your favourite tv show as a kid? Oooh I didn't really watch many TV shows as a kid since I didn't grow up with cable, but I definitely watched a lot of movies! The only TV shows I can really think I ever watched was an old VHS tape of the Adventures of Teddy Ruxpin (German dub) that got really damaged after a certain point and there was another with a couple episodes of Tailspin? But none of them really had much of an impression on me growing up. I do remember seeing Bernd das Brot someplace as a kid and liking it a bit, though.

summer or winter? SUMMERRRR summer all the way, i hate the winter sm 😭

realist, optimist, or pessimist? I like to consider myself a realist, but I know most people I know would consider me a pessimist just because of my "Nothing good ever happens, so we'll do x" approach when dealing with situations. But I'm mostly apathetic to most bad news/outcomes and haven't been proven wrong very often (Always thrilled when I am though), so I like to think it's just to do with the things themselves and not my mindset...? Right?

rain or sunshine? Sunshine!! Rain is nice and all, but gets depressing after a while and makes it hard to do many things.

how do you mark your spot in a book? I just memorise the page number and come back to it.

what are your favourite shoes like? I don't have favourite shoes, just plain black slip-ons that are comfy and good for most occasions except rain.

what would your non-perfume/cologne signature scent be? Good question, I normally wear my favourite 4771 cologne for most outings and assuming the Old Spice deodorant I use 24/7 ALSO doesn't count, maybe the body wash does? It's a milk and honey body wash and i love it

if you were a dragon, what would you look like? I'd have scales and a snout, probably...? I can't really think of it.

is your handwriting more print, cursive, or a mix? 100% cursive. It's hard for others to read in the US both because it's a bit rushed and also they don't teach cursive anymore I've heard, but I get on decently well in Germany which is a shock.

what colour would your lightsaber be? I don't know, I'm not very much into Star Wars.

what is your defining personality trait? I can't really say...? I guess a lot of people know me for being "modest" or "polite" something along those lines (probably since I tend to be quieter and have a tendency to take up other people's work for them irl), so maybe that, but honestly I'm the biggest prick I've ever known lmao

roller skates or rollerblades or ice skates? Never used any of those, so none.

are you an only child? oldest / middle / youngest? This is an insane answer but pretty much all, though I'd consider myself an oldest child if anyone asked. For the early portion of my life I grew up with an older half-brother and a few in-and-out older half-sisters on both sides so I was the youngest. But then, my brother moved away when I was 7 and I had gotten my only full-blood relative, my little sister, when I was 10. In the EXTREMELY rare event of a family gathering I'd be considered a middle child, around most I'd be considered the youngest, but as it stands since my little sister has been the most consistent in my life I've always considered myself the eldest child.

what would your superpower be? how would you use it? I'd like to teleport so I can see the world and go back between here and Germany as much as I want :)

what’s your clothing colour palette? ...??? I don't really have one? I guess mostly neutral tones like greys, beige, etc. though I don't really purposely coordinate or anything 👀

pet snake or pet bird? Pet snake!!

weapon of choice in a medieval battle I don't wanna fight a medieval battle waaaaaaa 😭😭😭😭 okay if I had maybe like a flail or some type of polearm like a Glaive, I think it's called? Longswords are cool and all but I wouldn't have the strength to use them, the same goes for bows and arrows though i ALSO suck with my aim... A flail is self-explanatory, and a polearm would make me feel save and sound :3<

the best ice cream flavour I like yoghurt-flavoured ice cream!! But I haven't been able to find any in the US and it's been killing me lowkey, frozen yoghurt is NOT the same!!!!!!!!

what spices do you always use when cooking? Salt and pepper, normally I rely on my sister since she's an expert on what spices taste like what and things and I'm too scared to experiment and ruin my cooking if I try lol. I'm not a creative or bold person 😭

default font when typing? ...Arial? Or some variation of it? Depends on what app I'm using, I don't really use anything special so the default for whatever, I think. Though if it's in a word processor like google docs it depends on my muse, if I'm low in motivation I'll usually use some bullshit fun font to keep my interest and then change it to a serif-type font when I'm through.

ask game that tells a lot about you.

how do you take your tea / coffee?

if you could be fluent in any language at the snap of your fingers, which one and why?

when do you wake up?

what was your favourite tv show as a kid?

summer or winter?

realist, optimist, or pessimist?

rain or sunshine?

how do you mark your spot in a book?

what are your favourite shoes like?

what would your non-perfume/cologne signature scent be?

if you were a dragon, what would you look like?

is your handwriting more print, cursive, or a mix?

what colour would your lightsaber be?

what is your defining personality trait?

roller skates or rollerblades or ice skates?

are you an only child? oldest / middle / youngest?

what would your superpower be? how would you use it?

what’s your clothing colour palette?

pet snake or pet bird?

weapon of choice in a medieval battle

the best ice cream flavour

what spices do you always use when cooking?

default font when typing?

[thewidowsledger]

Agent

© thewidowsledger 2025 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Undercover Agent!Natasha Romanoff x Mob boss!Female Reader

Word count: 693

Tags | Warnings: None, is the sexual tension in the room with us (?)

Author's Note: This is not a fic, more like a drabble👉👈 I hate how so many good ideas are running in my mind when I am heart broken, so just let me spoil y'all as long as I can :))

Navigation | Masterlist

⧗

"Go home, get some rest."

Natasha lingers by the doorway, shifting uncomfortably. Her eyes darted around the room, and her clasped hands fidget behind her back.

"Nat." You called.

She sighs, leaning against the doorframe and stealing a glance out the window.

"Natasha." You called again, much firmer this time.

Ah, she's in shit now. She knows damn well she's in deep trouble when she hears her full name being used especially by you. "Sorry, boss, guess I'm…distracted."

"That much is obvious." You offer a brief smile from your desk, but it fades just as quickly. "What's wrong, Natasha?"

Oh well, the list goes on and on. Where to begin? First, she's an undercover agent walking a tightrope, knowing her bosses are ready to pull the plug on the operation. Second, she's not a very good agent, since she became too attached to her target, the woman she's been guarding for six months. Lastly, she's an agent, and she's wondering if she should be.

Not that the answer is to join organised crime, either. But she's probably not as…objective as she used to be.

"I'm not sure about tomorrow," she finally admits. She doesn't like lying to you.

"What makes you unsure?"

Tomorrow looms large. The brass is forcing her hand. Natasha already delayed delivering you to them three times, and tomorrow, in the middle of your biggest land trade in years, her fellow agents are going to storm the place. There will be chaos, and you're likely to get caught in the crossfire. And despite her divided loyalties, she knows she'll put her life on the line to protect you. Whether they will question her credibility if she's a traitor or not.

Well all because she's just the agent who fell for her target—the Romeo of the operation. She just hopes that the story doesn't end in tragedy.

"Are we sure the meeting place is secured?"

"You went with Bucky to secure it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but—"

"You're nervous," you interrupt smoothly. Your smile is as polished as your satin night dress and the faint, fabricated English accent you wear like armor. Natasha knows it's a front—like her own.

"Can't help it," she shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Your heels click on the floor. The sound haunts her in her dreams.

"I know you can't." You almost sound like you're soothing her. "But try not to let it cloud your judgement."

She nods, brushing a speck off her jacket. It's the best she's ever dressed in her life, all thanks to you. Steve loves to tease her about it, especially the set of black shirt she's never ran out.

You blink as she catches your hand before you can pull away from her completely. "Natasha."

"You," she begins, breaking the strict rule against using names—real or fake—in the office. But you had told her your name yourself, and it's been etched into her mind ever since, like a treasure on a pedestal. "Just…think about tomorrow again."

She meets your gaze, both faces unreadable. Natasha's mastery of concealing emotions comes from years of training, while yours seems effortless. "You're concerned about me?"

She inhales, squeezing your hand tighter. Finally free to tell the truth, she says, "your safety is my top priority."

Something changes in those eyes of yours, but she can't quite tell what it is.

Natasha blinks as you lean in, pressing a light yet deliberate kiss to her cheek. She fights to keep her composure, knowing that you, the boss, rarely shows affection—mercy even less so. But her focus is entirely on calming the storm of butterflies in her stomach.

Oh idiot Romeo, indeed.

You lock eyes with her, your hand steady on her cheek. "We'll be fine," you say with unwavering confidence.

She holds your gaze, resisting the urge to hope for another kiss. Slowly, she lets go of your hand. "If you say so, boss."

You arch a brow. "Back to boss, is it?"

She felt a smirk but more like a smile tug at her lips. "Would you rather I call you something else?"

"Hm, mommy sounds good or perhaps mistress..." A sly smirk crept in your face. Then your hand glides down her chest, skimming over her leather jacket until it rests on the concealed weapon at her belt.

"You tell me, agent."

[v6quewrlds]

Joe Burrow + Fluff/Angst ❤️‍🔥

imagine being joe's gf at ohio state.

In the dimly lit living room of a cramped college apartment, your laughter filled the air as you watched Joe and his friends engage in a heated round of Madden. The laughter of the girls contrasted with the cackling of the guys as they trashed talked each other's virtual football skills. You leaned back into Joe's warmth, your head resting comfortably on his broad shoulder. His arms wrapped around your waist, locking you in place against him as he held his controller tightly, eyes glued to the TV screen.

One of the girls handed you the dwindling blunt and you took a slow drag. You could feel the tension building in Joe's shoulders as you balanced the blunt between your thumb and index finger, you knew he was getting ready to make a big play. The boys went quiet, anticipating the outcome, and then erupted in cheers and disappointed complaints as Joe scored a touchdown. He leaned back, smugly grinning, and kissed your cheek before turning his attention back to the game.

You smiled to yourself as you held the blunt up to Joe's mouth for him to take a hit. His eyes remained on the game, but his expression grew serious as he took it from you. He inhaled deeply, the tip glowing brightly before he released it from his mouth. The smoke curled around your friends, adding a layer of comfort to the already cozy atmosphere. You felt his shoulders relax slightly as his jaw unclenched, the smoke escaping through his lips like second nature.

“You want more?” you asked softly, turning a bit to look at Joe.

“Nah, I’m good for now.” He turned down another hit, his gaze still on the game. You handed the blunt off to the next eager participant and turned your attention back to Joe. His eyes flickered over to yours, and you saw the flicker of lowered inhibitions as his high began to set in.

The conversation grew louder as the game continued, and the topic of football inevitably shifted toward Joe's future at Ohio State. One of the guys, Shawn, a high-school friend of Joe's, brought the topic up with a nonchalance that drew a silent frown out of you. “Joe, you really think you're gonna stay?” he asked, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

Joe simply shrugged, his thumbs never faltering on the controller. “I don't know, man,” he replied, his voice thick with the smoke he'd just inhaled. “It's kind of up in the air right now.”

You sat up straighter. This was news to you. You thought the two of you had put the transfer talk to rest after his spring game last week. The last time you talked about it, Joe mentioned that it wasn't super realistic for him to start over at a new program with only two more years of eligibility left. But here he was, casually talking about it with his friends like it was something he was still seriously considering.

You held back the urge to press him on the matter right there. Instead, you reached for your phone to pretend you were scrolling through social media while your mind raced with questions. The others around you kept talking about it, asking Joe questions about the rumors, but you tried your best to keep your cool.

“What schools you lookin' at?” one of the other guys, Corey, asked, leaning back into the couch cushions.

Joe took a sip of his drink before answering. “Couple of options. Maybe UC or LSU. Gettin' a visit from Coach O soon, so we'll see what that's all about.”

You felt your stomach drop. The University of Cincinnati was still in Ohio, but LSU? That was a whole different world, a place where you would be a fourteen-hour drive away from him. You tried to keep your face neutral, not wanting to make a scene, but your body grew rigid against Joe's chest involuntarily. The conversation around you grew more animated as the guys threw out more names of schools with storied football programs. Your mind was racing, trying to understand what had changed since your last talk about his future.

As the conversation switched to a different topic, you couldn't help but feel a growing knot in your stomach. The room's chatter became a distant buzz as you processed the potential reality of Joe leaving Ohio State, and with it, the comfort of your relationship. You stared at the TV screen, watching the players run across the digital field, but your thoughts were a million miles away.

You released a breath before turning to whisper in Joe's ear, “Transferring is still on the table?” Your voice held a hint of accusation, but Joe's eyes remained on the game.

“Yeah, I know I said it wasn’t realistic, but things have changed a little,” Joe murmured, his eyes flicking to yours briefly before returning to the game. “My spring game put other schools on notice, and it’s not like Urban’s made a decision yet. Dwayne and J.T. are still in the mix, and I can’t just sit here and wait around, you know?”

You nodded, your throat tight. You knew Joe was a talented player who wanted - and deserved - more than just riding the bench, waiting in the wings for his big break. But you hadn't anticipated it would happen this way. Your heart was racing, and you took a sip of your drink to calm yourself. You didn’t want to argue in front of his friends, so you leaned back into his embrace, trying to keep your feelings in check. As if extending an olive branch, Joe's arms tightened around you, his chin coming to rest on the top of your head.

[bloomblood]

pitfighter/'emo' arc vi x piltover scientist reader (soulmate au)

(IVE HAD THIS IDEA FOR SO LONG IMMA SPEW RANDOM NONSENSE BC IM ASS AT WRITING LMAO)

•basically, reader is from piltover and has studied love and soulmates her entire life. she looks for vi, the name engraved on her wrist because she was desperate for answers.

•reader is reffered to as 'she,' or, 'the girl,' it gets a little confusing. also sorry for ooc!

it seemed like a sick joke. yeah, there were letters-a name-carved into her skin since birth. she would stare at them on lonely nights, thinking, wondering.

maybe this person would love her, even after everything. every person lost, every mistake. after caitlyn.

maybe she had hope after all.

vi scoffs in the girl's face. this random girl, vi had seen her before, but she was looking specifically for vi. they were soulmates. yeah, soulmates-like that meant anything to vi. she could care less; the ache in her chest suggested otherwise.

"you- you're serious?" the girl asks. vi rolls her eyes. "i don't need a soulmate. i don't need you, piltie. i've been on my own, and it's gonna stay that way." vi's lips twitch up into a sly smile. both of them knew it was forced.

"so do yourself a favor, sweetheart." vi steps closer, towering over her. "run away and forget about me. let's pretend this never happened."

she crosses her arms. this woman-the one she wore the name of-just told her to leave?

"then leave. im waiting." she snaps, glaring at vi. "but just know, we'll end up in this situation one way or another. i've chased this-the answer to this for my entire life, and i almost have it." she says. vi stands there for a moment, brows furrowed. she was definately going to leave, but she seemed a little crazy. or determinded, to put into better words.

"answer to what?" is all vi asks her. "the reason for soulmates." she replies with an eyeroll. "there's a scientific and logical reasoning for everything. this should be no exception."

vi rolls her eyes. yeah, totally crazy.

"right, well...you have fun with that, sweetheart." vi says casually before turning around. she pauses. a wave of panic crashes through her stomach. she thought vi would stay, ask her what she was looking for specifically, anything. but no, she was going to leave?

"wait!" she calls out as soon as vi starts walking. "what?" vi snaps out. she didn't have time for this. after everything, she couldn't. with a wound as fresh as caitlyn and pain from everything, from jinx...

"y-you're just going to leave? no questions, no nothing?" she questions, voice quiet. "you don't even know anything about me!"

there's silence. uncomfortable silence. it surrounds them, engulfs them.

"you aren't curious? about...who i am?" her voice grew even smaller. vi shakes her head as if it would shake her thoughts off.

she was really curious. after fights, on lonely nights, after a couple drinks (more like a couple bottles, with vi), after a loss, she was curious. who was she tied to? why them? why her? how would things be different if she met them? what would change? it was only the surface of questions that had swirled in her mind.

"i don't need a little soulmate to fix everything. stay away from me. go find someone that isn't me." vi replies, voice almost barely audible. "we've met before." she blurts out. "in- in piltover. you and these other kids blew up a-"

"don't." vi cuts her off. that was the beginning of everything falling apart. "it's a part of this cycle!" the girl's voice raises. "two people are born with the other's name on their skin." she starts. "then, it goes to passing. a singular moment in time the two people see each other." there's a pause. "from there, it's meeting, which develops into a bond. whether it's lovers, enemies, friends-it's all the same." she rambles.

vi's silent for a moment. this girl was...interesting, to say the least. a piltover women and a fighter from the undercity. perfect match.

"we're complete opposites, sweetheart. we aren't meant to be." vi mumbles. "w-well humans are attracted to contrasts. it's what we learn to go to or stray from." she says softly. vi sighs. maybe, in a sense, they were alike. they're both stubborn. this girl was fragile, shy, stubborn. but vi is a fighter. she's strong and stubborn.

some people aren't meant to be. they aren't destined to succeed. others...it's in their blood-on their skin. just how in black letters, it read 'violet,' on her wrist.

(i'll write a part 2 if y'all like this lmk please!!! i'll take requests too if anyone wants any because i need to write more-)

[say-duhnelle]

I know nobody actually asked but -

the first four lines of the song are two questions, even though the tune moves so slowly it's easy to parse them as four separate, not-quite-coherent sentences:

"Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind?" The whole poem is written in Scots which is why it's a bit difficult to understand; it roughly comes out to "Is it right to forget our old friends and put them out of our thoughts?"

"Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and days of auld lang syne?" trans. "Is it right to forget our old friends, and the days gone by [in which we knew them]?"

These are rhetorical questions and the implied answer is "no, it isn't right", strengthened by the chorus:

"We'll take a cup of kindness here, for auld lang syne" trans. "We'll raise a toast here for old times' sake" [raising a toast being something often done in memory or honor of someone]

WHEN HARRY MET SALLY 1989 — dir. Rob Reiner

[cornyforjk]

⤷ SUMMARY In which you are stuck living with an arrogant rookie racer who thinks of you as an obstacle, ready to ruin your glory, but things get heated when he has a pervy smile hidden under that pretentious attitude. Emotions that are complicated. You could never fall for your enemy! He's sabotaging you.

Pairing: racer!jk × racer!oc

Genre: angst and pure filth smut

Warnings: trash language

taglist: @tatamicc @jwnghyuns @nono13bnd @hagridshaircare @tatzzzz @suashifts @kyuupii-blog @bananaminnie-blog @rispwr @spideyjimin

A/note: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!! I can't believe this is the last chapter. We've come a long way. And I wanna thank all of you who've supported me and stayed with me since the start. I love you guys a lot❤️

Anw, I do have some prompts for my new series but requests are open!! I'll do oneshots and drabbles for this series as well.

Okay bye guyssss Enjoyyy!!!

___________________♡____________________

I took a deep breath and apologized for leaving him hanging on the bus, but Jungkook didn't respond, either by acknowledging my words or accepting my apology.

Trying to ease the tension, I called over a waiter and said, "Since your date is finally here, let's begin this dinner?"

I smiled and used a lighter I had on hand to light the candle in the middle of the table. Jungkook smiled, and I could sense a subtle shift in his mood.

He leaned in and spoke to the waiter in a smooth language I didn't understand. Within a few minutes, the waiter left with a nod and a conflicted expression.

I couldn't help but express my surprise.

"You know French?"

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Darling, Locke isn't the only one who knows how to speak the language of love." He winked, clearly satisfied with his answer.

A few minutes later, our food arrived, and the main course was presented with a tin cover. As the waiter revealed the dish, a live chicken suddenly scurried across the table, causing havoc. Drinks staining the White tablecloth, fries scattered across the floor, the panic-stricken chicken moving towards a wine bottle and provoking it to crash down on the floor, the stick of candle fell along with it and a splash of fire stroke the floor, guests around shuffled hurriedly away from the chaos in distress, Jungkook and I grabbed bottles of ketchup aiming it towards the growing fire and shooting the tomato sauce trying to extinguish it."7 million dollar restaurant and not a glass of water in sight!" I shriek.

Jungkook sprang into action, launching himself toward the chicken. He coddled it with both hands, tamping down the chaos and preventing further mayhem. It was an unexpected turn of events, and I couldn't help but stare in amazement at Jungkook's quick thinking and ability to handle such a bizarre situation.

"We are really sorry, we'd like to pay for the damage that was done." "You better pay up." The waiter snapped.

"Why did you even bring out a living chicken?" I ask, puzzled. "Ahem? I'm sorry but your man ordered it with his broken French, utterly preposterous." The waiter said in a disgusted tone.

"Sir, why would we eat a living breathing chicken?" "I don't know what you Americans are into." He sassily lashed out.

I gasp dramatically, hand on my chest. "We are Korean!" Holding Jungkook's I "We are Korean!" Holding Jungkook's I storm out, "Let's get out of here."

After the chaos caused by the live chicken, Jungkook and I made a quick escape to the terrace of the restaurant. As we caught our breath, I couldn't help but ask him the burning question.

"Why didn't you just order like normal people do?" I inquired, a bemused smile on my face.

Jungkook chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "I wanted to impress you," he admitted.

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Impress me?"

He nodded a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Yeah, and to smack talk in Locke's face."

I couldn't help but giggle at his honesty and the absurdity of the situation.

"Well, I don't think we'll be allowed at Le Petit Bistro ever again."

We both shared a laugh, looking out over the skyline of the beautiful evening.

"Why do you always feel the need to compete with him?" I asked curiously.

Jungkook hesitated for a moment before answering, "Well, don't you get it...?"

I looked into his eyes, surprise giving way to genuine amusement. I burst into laughter, the sound echoing across the terrace. "You're a real nincompoop, you know that?"

"A nincompoop?" He cocked his eyebrow.

"An idiot."

Jungkook chuckled, his shoulders relaxing as he realized that I found his antics endearing. At that moment, as the evening breeze swept over us and the city lights twinkled in the distance, I couldn't help but appreciate the quirks that made Jungkook who he

was.

"Y/n...I-"

"I know."

"Jungkook, I know, but knowing that losing you would wreck my ability to love anyone as deeply as you-"

"You won't lose me." He reassured me. Grabbing my hand he pulled me closer.

Locke suddenly appeared, breaking our intimate moment, I noticed Jungkook's irritated expression. He threw Locke a dirty look before rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to the skyline.

I greeted Locke with a smile and asked, "What brings you here?"

Locke laughed, his carefree demeanour unaffected by the earlier chaos. "Well, everyone gathered at the restaurant, only to find out about the chaos you two created."

I chuckled and exchanged a knowing look with Jungkook. "So, are you ready to go? You must be hungry," Locke offered, extending a hand toward me.I shook my head, a mischievous glint in my eye. "I already went ahead on a date with Mr. Nincompoop over here." I nudged Jungkook playfully, earning a small chuckle from him.

Locke sighed in mock defeat, nodding his head in understanding as he made his way out. "You didn't have to do that," Jungkook whispered to me.

I leaned closer to him and whispered back, "I wanted to."

"I saw a taco truck nearby, let's get you dinner." He extends his arm as I take it.

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

___________________♡__________________

After stuffing our stomachs with the best tacos I've ever had, we were walking around the beach.

What could be something better than walking hand in hand with Jungkook while looking at the sunset? Nothing right?

"what are you doing after this?" Jungkook asks me to which I reply "nothing really"

I notice his lingering gazes and ouff, I feel all sorts of butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

Is it just me or is he actually leaning in on me? Oh fuck

What the fuck is wrong with me???? He was literally leaning in to kiss me and I faced the front omg.

The tension rose around us as his hold on my hands loosened. Shit shit what do I do now??

I stopped, abruptly turning towards him "wait wait, I didn't mean that" I said looking in his eyes.

His expression changed, a smirk growing on his lips,

"what did you not mean?"

Dude left me speechless like wtf.

Heat flushed throughout my body and all of a sudden I felt shy infront of him.

"I didn't mean that", my words came out as a whisper.

"didn't mean what babe?" Ughh he's so annoying

And to stop that annoying mouth of his, I only had one option.(😏)

I smashed my lips on his.

He stumbled for a sec, but gained back his control. And not just his, mine too. He grabbed my neck and kissed me hard. After like making out for 1 min and 27 secs, we pull out.

But it doesn't stop there. Jungkook pulls me down on the sand and hovers over me. He kisses my neck, jawline and my lips again. And dude,, I've never felt this wet in my whole life.

We're kissing eachother like mad people, completely forgotten of the fact we're literally at a beach.

It was the very loud sound of clicking which caught our attention.

Omg, it was jimin who was clicking pictures of us kissing and hoseok was there too, but he had his eyes covered by his own hand.

We jerked out of panic, pushing each other and standing up instantly. "WHAT THE FUCK JIMIN???"

"WHAT THE FUCK YOU GUYSSS!!!???" Hoseok yelled back.

Jimin, all of a sudden started laughing like a maniac. But why the fuck is hoseok- and now Jungkook laughing as well?? I should join too ig?

All four of us were very stupidly laughing of 2 mins 12 secs straight wtf?

"Okay stop now, wtf you guys? What are you doing here?" I ask that, feeling a lil shy.

"Well, you tell us. What were you guys doing huh?" Jimin said with a smirk.

"We-uh we were doing some cardio" Jungkook answered hesitantly. "Y-yeah yeah" and I agreed. Wow. We're so smart.

"Un-huh, i have the proooofff" and once jimin said that jungkook started chasing him. They were running here and there like 5 year olds. And why the fuck is hoseok running as well? This man, dude.

"OH MY GOD Y'ALL STOP THIS!!" I yelled but everyone was busy running.

And what could get worse? Everyone from the team came there. And all of them started chasing each other as well? WTF???

Jimin runs adjacent to me, and my arm hits his camera which flies off in the opposite direction. And before he could pick it up, jungkook catches him and I take the camera with me.

And now, I'm running as well. Great!

I run as far as I could and when I spot our rented car, i quickly get inside and hid in there.

I let out a sigh of relief and then decide to look at the stupid pictures he took.

But damn.

I might have just came.

No I'm kidding, but still. The pictures are clear. The first one I see is the one where we notice jimin, our eyes wide and face pale.

It induces a giggle from me, jungkook looks sooo cuteeeee.

The next one is hot, like hot hot. We're in such an awkward but sexy position, my hands in his hair and his on my waist. Ouff.

The next few ones are similar and then comes the one where I'm standing tip-toed, kissing the heck out of jungkook. This one is worth getting printed and put up the wall of our own house when we're married and have 3 or 4 or however kids and I tell them this my kids, this is how i met your dad. Omg.

I shrieked out when I heard thumping on the cars window but it's just jungkook. I unlock the door fir him to get inside. He sits besides me, still with that dreamy look in his eyes.

"how did the pictures come out?" He asked, voice laced with tease.

" pretty great, they'll help me get off tonight" i said , with the same hint of tease.

"why use a picture, when you can have me tonight?" He says, shifting closer to me.

"who said I can have you tonight?" I asked innocently.

His expression changed, same as when I accidentally swerved him. Omgg he looked soo cuteeeee.

I controlled my laugh, before continuing

"I'll have you right now" the infamous smirk reached his lips again as he pulled me onto his lap, kissing me again.

His hands on my waist tickled and I laughed out loud. And this bitch, took the opportunity and started tickling me fr.

After several threats and pleas, jungkook finally stops. I look in his eyes, full of love and adore, fuck I want him so bad

"I love you y/n." He said, as if he read my mind.

"i love you too jungkook." I replied, as if I heard his heart.

___________________♡__________________

Day9

And this was an end of my first ever series, thank you everyone.

You can send asks regarding the characters and can ask the characters questions too, they'll reply back. Requests are open, so do send me ideas for drabbles.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 119 (Give Her Our Regards)

Conrad didn't leave for the city as soon as Detective Spangler's text came in. A ball of nervous energy to set eyes on the woman who'd driven him to the edge of madness and endangered his family for years, he needed to fuel some of his anger into the punching bags upstairs before he hit the Simmerloop Superhighway.

He let Heather know he was headed to the city to meet Ximena behind bars, but the good news meant she didn't care he'd be home late. "Give her our regards," she said with a smile.

This still wasn't completely over. Brindleton PD had to confirm Ximena was responsible for the murder of Jimmy Stefano and he still needed to find her brother, Rafa. But with Ximena behind bars, the police detail that had lingered in Sable Square throughout the winter could finally be redirected elsewhere.

The docks needed more patrol with Bay Security still in disarray, and with George Brindleton still enjoying the sun in Sulani.

He tried calling the old man on his way into the city, but George never liked to answer his calls. By the time he made it to San Myshuno PD it was almost lunchtime, and after a quick chat with some of his old colleagues, he headed downstairs to the prison cells.

"You said you wouldn't talk without Lieutenant Gordon present, so there he is."

With her hands cuffed behind her back, Ximena scowled. She'd never looked more pitiful, but Conrad's heart had hardened against her.

"Does this make you happy, Conrad?"

He shrugged. "Of course it does. What else do you want me to say?"

She grimaced as Detective Spangler led her into the interrogation room, but she wouldn't tell him a thing.

"I only want to talk to Conrad. I don't know you."

"Whether you know me or not, you know what happened to Jimmy Stefano."

She stared at him, stonefaced, and Conrad knew he'd have to talk to her. He stood and brushed his pant legs, heading into the interrogation room. He found Ximena threatening to walk out while Zion tried to coax her back into her chair.

"Is something wrong, Miss Bonilla?"

"I told him I'd talk to you, Conrad, not him."

"Lieutenant Gordon, I tried to tell her you're busy with the search for her brother, Rafael, but she's insisting she won't talk to anyone but you."

"What difference does it make who she talks to? The whole room's set up with cameras and microphones."

"She says she'll go back to her cell if she doesn't get to talk to you."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not even in the room," Ximena snapped.

Conrad let out an elaborate sigh. "Fine, Ximena. We'll talk. But you're answering my questions. Nothing more."

"Fine."

Detective Spangler left them alone in the room, but it felt smaller with just he and Ximena inside. "Did you kill Jimmy Stefano?"

"No."

"Do you know who did?"

"I don't know them."

"So you made the call?"

"I always make the call."

"And this time?" He needed her to say it, sitting down to make himself more comfortable. She wouldn't join him; Ximena loved looking down on just about anyone, including him.

"I can't answer that without an attorney."

"Do you have one? The cartel usually sends one."

"If you see one of their slimeball attorneys around, let me know."

Conrad looked at her, without allies but still defiant. "Do you really have no idea where your brother is?"

She frowned. "He ran away from me, Conrad. Just like you did."

"I can't pity you, Ximena. You made life hell for me and my family."

"The boy, he's not even yours."

"He's my family, Ximena. He has been since before he was three years old."

Ximena sneered. "I'm happy for you, Lieutenant. But unless you want to tell me you're letting me go, I'm done talking."

They had a lot more questions, but he knew Ximena wouldn't cooperate. Once she'd found a public defender and had been transferred to Brindleton Bay, they could keep pressing her for details of the murder at the docks.

He led Ximena back to her cell while she ranted about his betrayal. He tuned her out, grateful she was finally behind bars, as Detective Spangler joined him again by the cells.

"The chief says no one's been able to get a hold of George for two days. She's finally sending you to his villa to check on him."

"When? It's almost Love Day."

"You might need to make that one up to your wife. Almost wife. But she can get you on a flight out of San Myshuno Airport tonight."

"Just me?"

Zion offered a lighthearted shrug. "The chief's watching costs and needs me to stick to Ximena until she's transferred to the Bay. Besides, Chief knows you're George's favourite."

Texting Heather on his way to the airport, Conrad picked up a change of clothes from the gift shop before boarding a red eye to tropical Sulani.

He was on his way to talk to George Brindleton, but he hoped his task would finally put him face-to-face with Rafa Bonilla, most of all. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

[f4iry-bell]

WISHING ON GRAPES

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

summary: grayson's car stopped at a random party where he meets reader.

taglist: @unnoodles @nqds @alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @benny1989fredd @imaseabear @never-enough-novels @elysianwayy77 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @cassie6392 @objectinthemiracle @stargirl0479

a/n: hey guys!!! I'm sorry i haven't posted in a while 😭. I'll try to post all the reqs soon, and happy new year!!!

masterlist

Grayson left the small party that Jameson and Avery threw for new year's eve after 20 minutes. He drove around trying not to think about how it felt for him to just stand there all alone while everyone around him had someone. He couldn't take it anymore, he was happy for his brothers for they have found love but when will it be his time?

He was clueless of where he was going, he just drove around wherever the road led. But after sometime he realised that he was low on my petrol. He was hoping to find a station to pump some but it was too late as his car stopped somewhere he didn't know. He decided it would be better to get out, and call someone to pick him up but his eyes were fixed on the place he was. It looked like an entrance of a garden, decorated with fairy lights. He could hear music coming from the inside. It was obvious that there was a party going on inside. But it wasn't like the party that Avery and Jameson had, this one is filled with strangers. Something had pulled him in, his legs started to march forward.

Once he was inside he was immediately the odd one out like always because of his attire which isn't ideal for a new year's eve party. Ignoring that, he made his way towards a table on which drinks were placed, there was no bartender, no bar. No caterers, or anyone to help. He poured himself a drink, it was a bit foreign to him because how the place is just so simple. He was about to move away from the table but he heard a thud followed by an ‘ouch’, crouching down he pulled the table cloth above to find a girl sitting down there holding a box of what looked like grapes with one hand while rubbing her head with another.

“Are you okay down there?” He asked with a frown.

“Yeah, I didn't spill anything above, did I?” She asked, turning to him.

“No, you're good.” He answered, still so confused. Maybe she's anti-social.

“Okay, cool.”

He was quiet for a few seconds before speaking again with a deeper frown. “Pardon me, but why are you sitting under the table?”

She looked at him as if he asked a silly question when she was the one who was sitting under a table at a party. “Box of grapes, 20 minutes until new year, table.” She said that as if it's supposed to make sense.

“I still don't get it.” He admitted.

“Oh my god. Get in here.” She motioned him to get inside.

He didn't move.

“Buddy, you're wasting my time to think about what I want. So get in here, or go away.” Her hand waved inside once more.

Grayson reluctantly got inside, a part of him was curious.

“So?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, it's a belief that if you eat 12 grapes at midnight on new year's eve you'll find love, happiness, et cetera. You know? Each grape is for each month of the year.” Her eyes were wide with excitement when she explained it.

“You believe that?” He asked. His immediate thought was that this is another silly thing that people came up with to make new year's eve exciting like the kiss.

“Of course! I mean, it's my first time trying, but we'll see. I have extra grapes you know? You can have some.” She offered him.

“I'm good.” He sighed.

“Well, you're no fun. You're already under the table, it's almost midnight, you have grapes—”

“I don't have grapes.”

“I'm offering you grapes.”

“I don't want it.”

“Just try.”

“Why?”

“Because! Nevermind, stay a loser then.”

Grayson scowled. “Just because I'm not participating in a silly tradition, doesn't mean I'm a loser.”

“It won't hurt you to eat grapes, you know?”

“Fine, I'll have them.”

“YES!!”

He scoffed at her excitement. Before either of them could fill in the awkward silence they heard people counting numbers in descending order from 10.

“It's time!!” She shook the box of grapes.

Grayson couldn't have imagined anything that happened within the last 30 minutes, his car stopping right in front of this party, him finding this strange girl under the table, accepting her grape and certainly not pulling her closer when the chant was ‘5’ and kissing her at ‘1’.

It was unexpected, it was like his body was working on its own without telling him.

When he pulled back, he expected her to push him outside, or take back her offer but she opened the box. “Let's eat before it's late!”

He didn't realise that his heart was racing until it calmed down. He smiled, and grabbed one grape from the box to wish.

[thetomorrowshow]

we'll always have each other

trust auuuuu

oki so the other week, oasis and i were playing a dare-based card game with my family. she dared me to let her post something on my tumblr, and i accepted. she decided to post that "trust au jimmy is pregnant". i immediately began to get comments and asks about it. unfortunately, every time i started a post meaning to refute it, i instead doubled down.

this is the closest i can offer to pregnant jimmy. however he is pregnant in my heart <3

~

There's the Clash of the Stags.

And there's Alinar, sword in hand.

And there's the Crystal of Rivendell.

Where's Jimmy's favorite?

Oh, just over there.

Scott breathes out slowly through his nose, eyes turned up to the heavens as he picks out familiar constellations from among the clusters of stars.

Jimmy's favorite constellation is one that Scott had never heard of before, and as far as he knows, isn't considered a constellation by any modern societies. It makes a large, five-sided rectangle, far off from common elven constellations. Below it are two oddly large, bright stars, stars that Scott used to think of as the wishing stars.

Maybe that should be his next study project. Finding some record of that constellation, so maybe they can finally figure out what it represents.

It’s likely Oceanic in origin, considering Jimmy’s history, but there are very few books that expand upon Ocean history, and even fewer that are actually from past times—and most of those are unreadable by all but Lizzie and Jimmy. Still, maybe in Gem’s secret library there’s some kind of ancient constellation record. He ought to send her a message, see if she has time to research it with him—or maybe one of her students can take it on as a project.

"Hey, baby," a tired voice comes from behind him, pulling him from his thoughts. A thrill runs through Scott's veins at the sleep-rumbly sound of his husband's voice. "What're you doing up?"

Scott doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he points up to Alinar's Sword. "Do you think that Alinar's constellation is holding the Rune Sword, or his famous golden one?"

A bit of shuffling, and out of the corner of his eye, Scott sees Jimmy come up next to him, lean on the deck railing.

In the light of the giant moon (somehow always so much larger in the Codlands rather than in Rivendell) his face is illuminated, washed almost white. His bangs hang down, nearly to cover his eyes—not near as long as they've been in the past, not since Jimmy sheared off most of his hair last year—and he huffs, blowing them up and out of his face.

He's beautiful, from his casually messy golden hair to the plane of his nose, to the sparkling scars on his cheeks. He’s beautiful down to the heaviness of his eyelids, the impression of his pillow still pressed into his forehead.

Jimmy catches his eye, his lips quirking up.

"Hey," he says playfully, voice still all gravelly with sleep in that delightful way Scott loves. "What are you really thinking about?"

Scott frowns. "You didn't answer my question."

"I forgot what it was."

"Probably the golden sword," Scott muses out loud. "The Rune Sword was lost from knowledge. Unless the constellations were identified before the historic legends."

"Scott," Jimmy prods gently.

Scott sighs. He casts his eyes around, looking for something else to occupy himself.

"I don't like that you're in alliance discussions with Sausage," he says bluntly, eyes lighting on the far-off city walls, the border of Mythland just beyond. "He can't be trusted."

"I know how you feel," Jimmy says after a moment. "I think it's what's right for my empire right now. But if you really think it's a bad idea, I can reconsider and we can talk about it."

"I do," says Scott instantly. "I know Pearl says he's trustworthy now, but it doesn't change what he did. How his people treated yours. It isn't safe."

Jimmy wasn’t there. Scott’s never told him about it, either, the wounds still too raw, but that horrible meeting with Lizzie and Gem and Sausage still dwells in a dark corner of his mind. He recalls all too well Sausage’s taunts, his total disdain for the treatment of Jimmy’s body.

He cannot possibly imagine that the man actually intends to do good.

Scott glances at Jimmy, then again, to gauge his reaction. Jimmy nods slowly, scratches at his stubbly beard.

"Thanks. So what are you really thinking about?"

Jimmy's too perceptive for his own good. He’s just as good at faking sleep as Scott is, if not better—he'd probably noticed that Scott hadn't ever fallen asleep; that he'd laid there, awake, trying to bat off the thought that keeps plaguing his mind.

He'd probably noticed when Scott slipped out of bed, padding through the living room and the kitchen in the dark, to the back door, out onto the deck constructed over the wide canal.

They've been married for almost three years, and Scott has no clue how to ask this of Jimmy.

Mostly because they've been married for almost three years, and dated for a year before that, and Scott still doesn't know what his own answer is.

Jimmy already can tell that something is bothering him, though. Maybe he should just dive in headfirst.

Or dive headfirst into the canal, which almost sounds preferable to broaching the subject.

It has to be brought up sometime, and better Scott than his advisors. He wouldn’t put it past his council to corner Jimmy sooner or later.

"What are your thoughts on . . . on children?" he asks, slowly, as if the question has been pulled painfully from between his molars.

Jimmy shifts his weight on the railing, leaning a bit heavier on his elbows.

"Children," he says, a smile in his voice. "They're nice. Small. A bit loud, sometimes. What do you think?"

Scott snorts. "Yeah. They're . . . definitely small. And snotty. And adorable."

"And a huge responsibility," Jimmy adds.

"And a huge responsibility," Scott echoes.

There's a long moment of silence, then, as Scott turns his eyes back to the starry skies, to the brilliant moon.

The stars, in opposition to the moon, seem so far away here. Not like Rivendell, when they seem almost close enough to touch.

These tiny pinpricks in the sky barely appear to be real.

"Did you mean to ask me if I want to have kids?" Jimmy bursts out. "Like, I figured—"

"Yes," Scott cuts in.

"Right, right, but I didn't want to assume, so—um, yeah. . . . Do I want kids?" Jimmy taps his fingers on the railing. "Imagine our kids," he says, something fondly wonderstruck in his tone. "Offspring of a legendary elven hero and a demigod."

"Jimmy, if you hadn't noticed, we're not exactly equipped to have children together," Scott points out drily. "Unless there's something I don't know about demigods?"

"I—no, no, you're right—well, maybe there's a spell somewhere, we should—"

"Jimmy."

"I . . . I don't know."

Scott waits. His wings flutter slightly as a breeze shifts across them.

"Lizzie and Joel decided to not have kids," Jimmy says after a moment. "Like, ever."

"We aren't Lizzie and Joel."

"No. No, we aren't."

Scott sighs, just slightly. "My council has been . . . lightly nudging," he says. "I am quite young to be married, let alone have children, but I think my parents' early death and my supposed even earlier death scared them. They want the throne to be secure."

"Right, but we can't have kids. Does adoption work with elf succession? Have they ever had this problem?"

"I'm not the first gay ruler, darling. Usually it involves a third elf—a surrogate who can bear children. But—"

"Do you want kids, Scott?" Jimmy asks.

Scott falters.

Does he?

It's not that he doesn't, necessarily.

But. . . .

"Not . . . not right now, I don't think," Scott says cautiously. "Unless you want to, in which case—"

"I'm in no hurry," Jimmy interrupts. "Don't worry. If you want to wait, I'm fine with that."

Scott chews on his lip.

"When do most elves have kids?" Jimmy asks curiously.

"Around—well, most elves don't get married until they're around three hundred. It's younger with royalty, of course."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jimmy says, turning suddenly. "You aren't a teenager, right? When do elves come of age?"

Despite himself, Scott laughs. "No, I'm an adult, you're fine. Elves come of age between the ages of seventy and one hundred, generally. I should have probably come of age when I was ninety or so, but I had the ceremony when I was eighty-two."

"Oh, thank goodness," Jimmy breathes, slumping a bit. "Why is the marriage age for royals younger, then?"

"Well, you want all the royals married off as soon as possible," Scott says reasonably. "Make sure alliances are secure, get the royal descendants occupied so that they aren't trying to betray each other, give them something to do other than laze around the palace. It's actually a popular practice to plan a royal wedding on their two hundredth birthday."

When Jimmy doesn't respond, Scott looks over at him. "It's very sensible," he defends. "If my parents had lived, Xornoth likely would have been betrothed to Katherine or Joey or someone while I would have married a random elven duke or lord. Keeps Xornoth away and out of most politics, and keeps me occupied and gets us royal heirs. It's the most sensible way to do things."

Jimmy stares at him for a moment, then shakes his head. "That's just weird," he says. "Is it not out of love?"

Scott shrugs. "Exceptions have been made. True love, prophecies, the whatnot. For me, it just meant that my dating pool was limited to the Seven Lords of Rivendell and the Thirteen Dukes, or outside royalty. So, lucky thing I met you—the lords have never really been my favorite of party guests."

"Lucky," Jimmy intones, before shaking himself. "Geez, we got off topic. Kids. We were talking about kids."

Right.

Children.

"So you don't want kids right now," Jimmy says, and Scott nods. He hadn’t properly thought about his own wants until Jimmy had asked him—he’s the king, after all. His country is meant to come first.

He doesn’t want a child, though. Not yet.

"Not right now. I'm only a hundred and twelve, for Aeor's sake."

"Wait, one second, back to the marriage thing—are there elves that get married that young? Or are you the first one?"

"No, no, there's always someone who got married exactly a year after their coming of age," Scott waves. "Younger weddings are becoming more and more common. It isn't an issue."

"Cool. Cool. Back to the other thing. Kids—in the future, then?"

Scott looks down at his hand, resting on the railing. Then past it, to his aching left arm, hanging at his side.

He doesn’t want children right now. That’s what he says, what he puts off, what he insists.

"If we want kids in the future, they won't be yours," he says, carefully keeping his voice neutral.

Jimmy moves a little, his nightshirt sliding against his skin in an intimately familiar sound. "Right. Because of the surrogacy thing."

"I don't want a child who isn't yours," Scott bursts out, and this is really the issue that had woken him up, isn't it?

He can't help but see himself in the future, stuck with a child that's half him and half some other elf, lacking Jimmy's beautiful golden hair and perfect brown eyes and little bundles of scales. All he can envision is resenting that child, not tied to any part of the beauty that he loves so much.

He doesn't want that. He wants a child with Jimmy, made up of the both of them.

Jimmy waits.

He's standing there, patiently, waiting for Scott to speak.

But Scott suddenly has a lump in his throat, built up of guilt and frustration and grief, because there will never be a little version of the two of them running around the palace and he feels terribly selfish for wanting that.

Someday, he will need to have a child. Preferably two.

And they have to be of his blood.

"You're my husband," he says, valiantly holding back the tears that blur the edges of his vision. "I want you to be the father of my child. I want—I want a child with you, Jimmy, not with anyone else."

Jimmy hums. "You know I wouldn't mind, right? Adopting isn't any different to me."

But it's not the same.

"I don't know," he whispers. "I want it to be you."

"Good thing is, we don't have to worry about it right now," Jimmy says gently.

"But my council—"

"Can wait. They've been waiting for hundreds of years anyway. What's another hundred or two?"

Scott nods. Jimmy's right. They have time. More time than most, honestly.

"And who knows?" Jimmy adds. "Maybe someone will discover a way to make it work."

Maybe.

A lot can change in a couple hundred years.

It's even possible that they can get the Crystal Cliffs Academy working on some sort of . . . baby-making charm?

Dear Aeor, the sound of that makes him want to shrivel up in embarrassment. He could never request such a thing.

But Gem would absolutely put everything she has into creating something of the sort. She's a good friend—and the idea of a baby would certainly entice her. He ought to consider it, at least.

They have time, though.

He knows that this may not get any easier with time. His advisors will continue to bother him, and there will be the constant question posed of when is the right time if not now.

He doesn’t want a child right now. All he wants is Jimmy.

Scott takes in a deep breath of the cool night air, before scooting over until he's right next to Jimmy. He lays his head on his husband's shoulder, then his right hand over his husband's left.

Jimmy leans into him, rubs his hair with his cheek for a moment. "I love you," Jimmy says softly.

Even after three years of marriage, those words make Scott's heart want to burst.

"I love you, too."

[tiredgeekgirl]

fellas it has been three months since the beach episode and thinking about neil and eva in any capacity still makes me ILL

[knifearo]

ultimately when it comes to shipping and fandom space treatment of aspec characters i just don't accept "aro/ace people can still date/have sex" as an answer from nonaspecs. like yeah. mhm. okay. now i think we both know that you're not saying that out of real interest in the diversity of aspec experiences. so you can turn in your seventeen-page essay on why and how you plan to examine this character's aspec identity within the context of a romantic or sexual relationship complete with evidence from canon and peer reviews from multiple aspec people within the next week or i'm putting you in the pit from the edgar allen poe story

[catebees]

Battle of the Winifreds: Part Two, this time they actually know each other and have exchanged snide banter at the College of Magi more than once

[br1ghtestlight]

THEYRE SO LITTLE what the hell. they're tiny babies. so small <3

[lloydfrontera]

javier realizing how much he cares for lloyd, how deep his loyalty to him runs, how ready he's to lie down his life for him, not because he's the son of his lord, not even really knowing exactly why he feels like that but just being absolutely certain that lloyd is his friend and he can't allow anything to harm him

And yet, why am I trying so hard to protect him? He had no way of knowing. But one thing was clear. It was a very simple matter. I want to protect him. Lloyd is my true master in my heart. Lloyd was his friend. And now, Javier wanted to protect Lloyd. He would sincerely protect him with everything he had.

he doesn't even know why!! he just knows that lloyd is his friend and his true master in his heart and that's!! more than enough for him to decide he's willing to put his life and everything he has in the line to protect him!! i'm just!!

[kahurangithemew]

Oh? Are you a mew?

Huh? I'm surprised you know about mews. We tend to avoid others.

Bzzt. Lots worlds!

Oh right, this thing connects to other universes. I guess maybe mews are more common in other ones. Huh.

Well, yes. I'm a mew.

[t-u-i-t-c]

Final Chapter: Tomorrow's Legends