#equip 03

[jojojooo33]

FMA 03's medical technology is kind of vague, so sometimes I wonder exactly how advanced it is. They have things like automail, shots for food poisoning, and medicine that helps with... internal bleeding? Whatever Izumi has going on... her whole condition is kind of a big question mark. Idk if she lost ALL of the organs in her lower abdomen including bladder and colon OR if Sig just meant the uterus + ovaries and was just weird about saying it (she does throw up blood so it might be the former! I guess sepsis doesn't exist in this universe. Or the blood is just there to convey that there's something wrong and isn't meant to be taken literally idk). The existence of automail makes me think that they probably have other surgical technology? But if they do it either isn't that advanced or Izumi doesn't have access to it/know about it/has some aversion to it for whatever reason. Orrr if I'm going more into headcanon territory, maybe she did get reparative surgery but experiences complications.

[commodorez]

DEC PDP-11/03 and Tektronix Color Graphics – Douglas Taylor

The Digital Equipment Corporation (DEC) PDP-11/03 computer was very popular in the 1980’s for use in research and industrial environments. Coupled with a Tektronix color graphics terminal it could display your data in a colorful manner. The downside of this was that you had to write your own code. On display is a DEC PDP-11/03 making plots on a Tektronix 4207 color terminal.

VCF East XIX

[alligator-dreaming]

06-03-2023

Had a stress dream last night that there was a film shoot in my bedroom and the director started to leave and dragged a big carpet behind him that made everything come crashing off my shelves. I tried to Ctrl-Z it but the damage was too extensive

Then my mom made me help her fill a big plastic box with apple juice, but she made us do it in a pool. The apple juice kept escaping and the box kept tipping and we were running out of apple juice

The one silver lining was the stegosaurus

[deulalune]

Now that Israel is pulling troops from Gaza they’re using stronger explosives. These bombs are leaving massive fireballs in north Gaza. (Thermobaric weapons)

A thermobaric bomb, aka a vacuum bomb, is made up nearly 100% fuel. It uses oxygen already in the air, and it mixes with the fuel to create a large blast. They are extremely deadly. https://metro.co.uk/2022/03/01/what-is-a-thermobaric-weapon-putin-accused-of-using-vacuum-bomb-16194023/

Source: Al Araby TV

[thecreatormj]

Ember Woods Apartments [50x40]

(Public: 08/03/2024)

Perfect for families and individuals alike, offering a variety of living spaces to suit different needs.

Unit Types

Three spacious 3-bedroom units: Each unit is designed with ample space for a family, featuring modern amenities and comfortable living areas.

One stylish loft unit: This unit boasts an open floor plan with a contemporary design, perfect for those who enjoy a trendy and versatile living space.

One cozy studio unit: Ideal for singles or couples, this unit offers a compact yet comfortable living area with all the necessary amenities.

Features

Fully equipped gym: Residents can stay fit and healthy with access to a state of the art fitness center.

Inviting pool: The pool area is perfect for relaxation and recreation, providing a refreshing escape on hot days.

Relaxing hot tub: Unwind in the hot tub, a perfect spot for relaxation after a long day.

Convenient grill area: The outdoor grill area is great for hosting barbecues and gatherings with family and friends.

Ideal for comfortable and convenient living, offering a range of amenities and living spaces designed to meet the diverse needs of its residents.

Location:

 San Sequoia🌆

Lot Type & Size: 

Residential Rental🏢 - 50x40

Packs Used:

For Rent ️🔑

Download

[kquil]

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER THREE

03 : SHOPPING (2/2)

CHPT. SUM. : so many stores are left on the list, the boys finally eat delicious food outside, detours are a natural endeavour and you meet a collection of interesting shopkeepers. what a day~ 

LENGTH : 10k

TAGS : fluff ; fun day out ; sirius and regulus being precious ; they're just kids ; reader is mother of the year ; reverse comfort ; OC ; visions ; original walburga makes an appearance ; she doesn't stay long though ; money isn't a problem ;) ; domestic fluff ; sibling fluff between sirius and regulus ; marauders fix-it-fic

← PREV. | 02 : SHOPPING (1/2) | SERIES M.LIST

“Two what?” Sirius asks, your attention snapping towards him and breaking contact with the grey-haired man standing before you.  

“Do you need a new wand too, Mother?” Regulus speaks up from your other side, swiftly following after his older brother. It was clear from the differences in their elocution that they differed greatly. One was much louder, with a sharp tongue and an audacious attitude to boot; the other was of a more gentle demeanour, equipped with a clever mind and observant eyes.  

Mr Ollivander leans back with an amused smile waiting to see how you’d react and whose question you’d answer first. 

“The two of us need wands today, Sirius,” you hum, hoping your nerves don’t show through in your voice as you switch between the two. It was adorable how similar their curious looks appeared when staring up at you.  

“Why is that?” your eldest asks curiously, the question reflecting similarly in your youngest’s eyes. 

“My wand appears to be having some problems lately and, well,” you raise your gaze to meet eyes with the wand artisan behind the counter, “I was hoping Mr Ollivander could help the two of us today,” the light streaming in from the windows above reflects off Ollivander’s grey hair to create a glowing outline encircling him. His peculiar portrait reminds you of how idiosyncratic he is, like a living ghost who’s able to touch superior levels of magic and wonder. It's mysteriously intriguing but just as harrowing too. He was able to deduce so much after so short of an interaction, after all. You stare at him silently, a gentle prompt to help you and your eldest son with your homogenous need for a new wand. 

“I like to focus on one client at a time,” the look he gives you offers up the decision of who should go first to be made by your small family. 

Before you can say anything, Sirius speaks up with a light dusting of pink on his cheeks, “Ladies first, Mother,” he announces politely and your heart melts at his consideration. You coo and awe at his gesture while dropping down to his height where you press a loving kiss to his forehead. 

“Thank you, my darling. You’re such a gentleman,” Sirius beams at your praise as Regulus meets his eyes to the right of you and grins widely. The two easily share in the small joys they’ve been able to experience around you. They don’t want to seem rude so the two of them secretly cheer at the headache you suffered to be able to change this drastically, “However," you comb your fingers through his hair lovingly, "you’re the star of the show today. Why don’t you go first, my dear?”

Sirius doesn’t refute, too distracted and pink-cheeked by your affection to do anything but nod. He then turns to Ollivander, who smiles down at him kindly. The oddness surrounding the wand artisan, however, cannot be missed and Sirius is cautious to proceed forward. 

“Your name, young man?”

“Sirius Black,”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sirius. Please step behind the counter and we can get started on finding you the perfect wand, shall we?” Sirius glances one more time over his shoulder and observes the encouraging nod you give him; his heart calming from the reassuring pat you give atop his head. Another moment passes before he is led behind the counter by Ollivander. The elderly wizard proceeds to give him a short once-over before disappearing between two ceiling-tall shelves, stacked full of stored wands. 

“Do you want to watch your brother find his wand, Regulus?” you ask, kneeling to level with your youngest.

“Yes please, Mother,” he nods with a shy smile, “but I don’t know if I’m allowed past the counter,” 

“Don’t worry,” with a smile, you carry him up in your arms, “I can seat you on the counter instead,” for the brief moment you rise, he stays in your embrace. However, when you go to place him on the counter, you find that Regulus doesn’t want to be let go.

In a whisper, you ask if he’s alright, “Can you just hold me like this?...please?”  His answering whisper melts your heart and you can't find it in yourself to say no. Even if your arms begin to ache, you aren’t going to set him down until he wants to be set down – you’re determined! 

“You mean you don’t know which wand is for me?” Sirius’ words ring with curiosity more than judgment as he looks up at Ollivander. 

“I’m afraid not, my boy,”

“Aren’t you supposed to know?”

Smiling fondly, Ollivander begins to explain the process, happy to answer the questions of a curious child, “Ultimately, it is the wand that chooses the wizard, Mr Black,”

Sirius contemplates Ollivander’s words for a moment as Regulus gasps in astonishment beside your ear. The awe and interest are evident in the youngest’s silently twinkling grey eyes, matching that of his elder brother. Their wonderment is clear and both are equally skilful in concealing it.

“How will I know that a wand has chosen me?

“You’ll know,” Ollivander nods. There’s something in his pale eyes that makes Sirius keep from asking anything further. Something that says ‘trust me’.

Together, you and Regulus watch over the counter as Sirius tests out a variety of wands. 

At one point Sirius makes several misplaced papers catch fire, which makes you giggle quietly. Regulus stiffened in your arms momentarily at the sight of the sudden flames and only seemed to relax as soon as he heard your soft laughter. It isn't until he presses his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder that he finally draws your attention. It didn’t seem like an issue to press further about so you gave his small back a few reassuring rubs and continued to watch over Sirius – perhaps Regulus was feeling a little exhausted already. Despite the disastrous flames, Ollivander had the situation handled and simply magicked away the fire before rummaging around for a different wand, muttering softly to himself as he did so. It wasn’t until Ollivander came back with a jet-black wand with familiar-looking markings carved along its body that you smiled to yourself. This was the one. 

“Try this...” Ollivander offers up the wand but after the previous incident, Sirius is much more hesitant to proceed. He was only able to resume the testing when Ollivander flashed him a kind, reassuring smile - though he remained hesitant and stiff. Sirius was too scared to turn and see your reaction to the commotion he had just caused. But it was an accident! Surely you’d understand– “Give it a wave, then, young man,” Ollivander's chuckle was able to ease some of the stiffness from his limbs as the markings beneath his fingers urged him for a sturdier grip before giving the black wand a small flick. 

Appearing from the tip of his wand, a small circulating breeze moves through the room, not caring for the mess it makes of any unfiled papers nor the rattling it causes amongst the stacked boxes of wands. The breeze eventually returns to circle Sirius, ruffling his hair and clothes before eventually dying down to leave him looking bedraggled.

The result was quite confusing to the ordinary eye, which worried you, but not for the elderly wand artisan. Ollivander slaps his knee and throws his head back with a laugh. “Now that’s a match if I’ve ever seen one!” His words make Sirius stare up at him with wide eyes of disbelief. 

“Really?”

Ollivander kneels beside him with a twinkle in his eye, “That’s quite a choosy wand, my boy. Wands made out of jet black Ebony are happiest when in the hands of those who are not afraid of being themselves, sticking to their beliefs no matter what external pressures there may be,” the elderly wizard’s words washed over Sirius and flooded him with a feeling of vindication. He felt light and there was a flutter in his chest. In his short life so far, it’s been so hard to adhere to his convictions, and he has never before felt so validated, “you, young man, have a very courageous heart,”  Ollivander’s words make you smile widely. 

You set Regulus down as Sirius makes his way back to you. The two brothers share a hug but Sirius is still unable to meet your eyes. It isn't until his younger brother pulls away from the embrace that Sirius finally wills himself to look up at you. Regulus can see the slight fear in his older brother’s eyes and he knows the exact cause; Regulus was scared too. Regardless, you haven’t done or said anything to further his fears so the younger brother tries his best to be optimistic and flashes his older brother a small smile as if to say ‘it’s going to be okay’. 

Biting his lip, Sirius finally turns to find that you’ve come down to his height. Rather than a scowl on your face for his earlier misbehaviour with the discordant wands, he finds you smiling brightly at him instead. Before he could comprehend what was happening, you pulled him into your arms. One hand presses against the back of his head and encourages him to bury his face into your shoulder as the other splays across his small back to give him supportive pats. 

Beside his ear, you whisper, “I’m so proud of you, Sirius,” pulling away your eyes find that his own have significantly watered, holding back tears. Tears of joy, you assess and deliver a small kiss on his forehead. 

“You’re not mad at me? For setting fire to the papers earlier?”

“Of course not!��� you protest and pull him into your tight embrace once more, “I’d be surprised if I don’t set something on fire when trying to find a new wand too,” he giggles against your shoulder and it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard, “I’m so so proud of you Sirius, you have your wand now, and you’re going to be attending Hogwarts soon,” you sigh into his dark curls and mutter against his temple, “Far too soon…”

Relieved by your reaction, Sirius can finally digest your words and the sincere tone behind them. He’s never heard his mother praise him or voice how she’s proud of him but here you were, whispering rare words for him to hear only. He doesn’t know if he could ever feel happiness like this ever again. It’s hard for him to even describe - he’s just so so happy. 

It’s your turn to get a new wand now and the process is entirely the same. Ollivander goes through a selection of wands for you to test the feel of, giving each one a chance to see if they want to become your companion or not. After going through the first handful, you manage to light a stack of papers on fire yourself and when Ollivander swiftly distinguishes it, your group shares a laugh. 

“See? I told you it would happen to me too,” you smile over your shoulder at Sirius who giggles with his little brother. 

A few more inharmonious wands go by before Ollivander hands you one that's made of a light-coloured wood. The design of its body was very elegant and emulated a pattern that was reminiscent of vintage stone pillars. Widely spaced vertical ridges run along the main body and lead towards ornate, uniform designs that either look like curling leaves or crashing waves. It’s beautiful but what matters is whether or not the wand chooses you.

Flicking the wand, a spark of light escapes from the tip and you prepare yourself for another pile of papers to be set on fire. However, you’re pleasantly surprised when the light floats through the room as if it were swimming through water. It reaches Sirius and Regulus, where it proceeds to circle each of them before departing and leaving a warm touch that lingers on their cheek. The light eventually returns to you again, where it orbits your figure several times, enveloping your silhouette in an ethereal glow before disappearing. In its wake, it leaves a path of warmth that loiters in the air, suspended like the many particles of dust dancing in the light filtering in through the high windows.  

Smiling in success, you hold the wand to your chest and turn to your boys who had begun to cheer for you. You could have easily lost yourself in the moment if it weren’t for your keen ears picking up on Ollivander’s mutterings. His words were all in a whisper and not meant for anyone else’s ears.  

“How fascinating…” the elderly wizard smiles whimsically to himself again, “the singular wand whose properties are the precise opposite of the original became your destined companion,” you meet the pale, almost translucent eyes of the wand artisan, who smiles at you as soon as he finishes muttering to himself, “it’s truly an honour to be able to witness the pairing of an Applewood wand,”

“Why is that?” Regulus asks before you can even react. With a smile, Ollivander moves to the front of the counter and bows at the knees to his height. Their eyes lock like that of a patient but talented teacher and his diligent student. 

“There are many properties of a wand that can be attributed to the reasons why it chose its ultimate owner, one of which is its wood. Your brother,” Ollivander gestures to Sirius, “has himself a wand that is made of Ebony wood, while your mother has herself one that’s made of Applewood. Applewood wands are very powerful indeed, I can assure you of that,” you find yourself leaning closer, eager to learn more, just as much as your two sons were to learn of their mother and the nature of wands, “their owners are typically ones who harbour ambitious goals and even higher principles. As a result, there stands a positive correlation between possessors of Applewood wands and the life they tend to live,” your breath remains trapped in your throat, held there by anxiety as you tensely anticipate Ollivander’s successive words, “they live a life that is long and where they are well-loved,” the relief was great and one that you were desperate to maintain. You know what you're setting out to do is going to prove a difficult challenge but it is going to be worth it, as long as your two boys are happy and by your side.    

Together, both wands cost 14 galleons. And, despite the excitement you first held for meeting such a distinguished Harry Potter character, you were eager to leave, slightly scared of the amount of knowledge he potentially held. At the very least, you were able to depart on a good note

Naturally, the next order of business was to get all of Sirius’ robes and uniform at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions shop. That would be on the north side of Diagon Alley and, considering you were on the south side for Ollivander’s wand shop, you needed to direct your boys back up to the North. You admit, it was quite inefficient to go from Gringotts, which was North, to Ollivander’s (South), only to go back North when all the shops you had left to visit were up there. There were many shop names that you recognised on the way down, however, it was best to get the only singular South-side shop from your list out of the way so you could spend the rest of the afternoon easily hopping from shop to shop in the North-side. 

“What’s wrong, darling?” you ask, noticing that Sirius has been staring off in one direction for some time, completely motionless and glued into place. 

“Nothing…��let’s go,” he grabs a fistful of your dress’ skirt but you already noticed what had captured his attention. 

“A joke shop…” a small grin tugs on the corners of your lips. You remember the child-like wonder that washed over you whenever you watched the scenes featuring Fred and George Weasley’s joke shop. This joke shop isn't theirs but you wonder if it’s just as remarkable. 

Sirius had no hope of ever convincing you to take a look, especially when most of today would be packed full of shopping at other shops for his supplies as a first year. In his insecurity, Sirius was only able to muster a quiet, “...yeah…” 

“What a good idea,” you smile brightly and take both their hands into yours, heading in the direction of the shop happily named, ‘Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop’, “Let’s have a little look shall we? A small detour like this can’t do much harm,” Sirius was smiling from ear to ear as soon as he overcame the shock your agreement brought, “Although, I'm afraid I won’t consider buying anything,” a treat like that is meant for another time...

“That’s okay!” Sirius cheers and hurries along, making it to the door before you could and holding it open for you. 

You’re beginning to realise a recurring discrepancy between the size of a shop’s exterior compared to its interior space; the joke shop is considerably larger on the inside compared to its outside appearance. It added to the joke factor of the store itself - how funny that it appeared so deviously small on the outside. 

The entrance was lined with shelves filled with an assortment of joke items, all were vibrant and eye-catching. It was hard to enforce any form of restraint when your eyes couldn’t stay in one place too long, nor could your feet. There were several other children with their parents roaming the galleries of jokester paraphernalia too. Only then were you finally able to focus your gaze on your two, fascinated boys, not wanting to lose them.

“How undignified!” your eyes roll at the scratchy, annoying voice that invades your head once more, “No child of mine should ever be seen in a Joke Shop!”

“Oh Shut up, let my kids be kids,” you retaliate, folding your arms loosely as you observe Sirius dragging around his younger brother by the hand. Regulus happily heeds, not needing to be dragged to be able to shadow his older brother. Nevertheless, their small hands remain connected. The scene made you smile warmly, they’re the cutest boys you’ve ever – you want to prolong their happiness and give them as many opportunities as possible to experience the same delights over and over again. 

“THEY’RE NOT YOUR KIDS!”

“YES. THEY. ARE!” shaking away Walburga’s shrill screams, you try to focus on the ground beneath you. It’s best to end this argument quickly, you don’t want to faint in the middle of a joke shop and ruin the day for your two boys; it's barely started. 

You didn’t prolong your stay but enough time was spent there for you to witness Sirius’ certain appeal towards a particular item: a purple box of stink pellets. Smiling to yourself, you make a mental note of the fact before leading your two boys out and back to the north side of Diagon Alley. 

It’s a relief that most shops offer delivery services, you don’t believe you would be able to carry all of your purchased items home. 

At Madam Malkin’s, you bought all the necessary uniforms and robes for Sirius to have. Being an established house and family, you were attended to right away despite your insistence on no special treatment. Sirius was then measured and the appropriate sizes for his robes and other items were brought back to be tried on. He looked somewhat embarrassed from the attention but you couldn’t help yourself. There are many joys of being a mother and one of them was the ability to brag about how beautiful and exemplary your child was. To anyone within earshot and to those who, both, cared and didn’t care to listen, you openly talked their ear off about Sirius. Said son grew redder and redder with each expression of praise that left your lips without an ounce of hesitation. 

Was he hearing right? You're just joking with him...but you sound so sincere. Surely those other people don't care, why are you such talk on them?!  

“He looks all grown up, I’m so so proud of him,” Sirius’ ear tinted a faint red. 

“I worry that he’ll attract too many girls’ attention and grow a bad reputation over breaking too many hearts. But, then again, look at his handsome face, of course, they would fall for my son,” Sirius looks to the side, trying to find interest in the cracks of the shop’s walls -- a weak attempt at distracting himself from the flames in his cheeks. 

“I can already tell! He’s going to achieve so many great things, I just know it!” Sirius looks over and narrows his eyes at his giggling younger brother. Wait until he has to go through the same thing when he starts his first year! 

“Yes yes, I know your son looks wonderful in his robes too but look at my son! His robes look like they were made for him!” try as he might, Sirius can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips. His heart swells up in his chest and threatens to burst from the amount of happiness your endless praise fosters in him. 

Just as the checklist states, you made sure to get three sets of plain work robes in black, a pointed hat, a protective pair of dragon hide gloves, a black winter coat with silver fastenings and, lastly, name tags to attach to all items. The total amounted to 28 galleons and 44 sickles. Madam Malkins offered a service that stitched on the name tags for you but you kindly refused. It’s a tedious task but you wanted to stitch the name tags on yourself; you had the time and you wanted to do your due diligence as a mother. This is your job and you aren’t going to hand it over to anyone else. You were told to expect the owl delivery within a week. 

“How about a break?” you suggest upon seeing a sudden fall in your boys’ energy. Their once slumped shoulders suddenly tense and the two peer up at you with cautious eyes. Despite the amount of progress you’ve made in cultivating a mutual rapport with them, it appears that some phrases put them on high alert regardless of the harmonic atmosphere. 

“It’s okay mother,” Regulus hurriedly assures, his smile now much smaller and wrinkled at the edges from superficially conjectural nerves. 

“Yeah, we’re not tired, we can continue shopping just fine,” Sirius continues, reaching out to hold hands with his brother as they stand before you with identical ambivalent expressions. It breaks your heart. Their words are simple but their actions are heavily veneered by a thin veil of coy nonchalance. 

“Aren’t you two hungry?” you ask, crouching down to meet at their level, where you’ve gotten into the habit of being able to converse deeply with them. Keeping their gaze, holding each other’s attention and listening closely has led to so much understanding and that’s all you want with them. 

They look at each other from your question. Sirius can see the obvious hesitation in his younger brother’s eyes and he gives his hand a small squeeze. Usually, Sirius was the more outspoken one, never letting his fears show while allowing his tongue to run and verbalise all the thoughts and opinions in his head. It was his small bit of freedom in a house that was so set on censoring him and his many opposing views, despite his young age. Oftentimes, his parents would guilt him into thinking that he was being a bad influence on Regulus, simply by voicing his views, which are usually opposite to those of his parents. Regulus had a much softer disposition, however. While Sirius carried about smug confidence and had a deficiency for self-preservation, Regulus reigned in studiousness and quiet wit. Sirius knows that his younger brother is gifted but his bright mind shouldn’t be cultivated under such oppressive practices and methods. If that happened, Sirus feared that his darling, little brother's gift would be reduced to nothing. There's no way that Sirius would let that happen to his baby brother, which is why he’s so vocal! But… what's changed? 

Now he was hesitating, his throat clogged up, his palms were sweaty…he was scared. Scared to have you look at him with disapproval or disappointment. Sirius doesn’t know what happened to you, his mother, but you’re different now, he wants to love you and be loved in return. You’ve shown him that you can give the tenderness he desires, you’ve proven that he’s loveable and that he’s worth your time and attention. 

He’s scared because if he makes a single misstep now… he’s going to lose that. It’s much harder losing something you’ve known, felt, and experienced than losing something that never existed in the first place…

“My dears?” you whisper with concern, leaning forward ever so slightly with furrowed brows of worry, “what’s wrong?”

“We’ll have to go home to eat…” Regulus confesses softly. He avoids your eyes as he fiddles with the hem of his long-sleeved shirt and completely misses the confused look on your face. 

“It is not proper to conclude important errands prematurely,” Sirius explains as if reciting from a rulebook,  “...and we don’t want to go home yet either…”

“We’re not stopping entirely,” you reassure, petting their soft hair affectionately and rewarding them with a kind smile as soon as they raise their hopeful faces to you, “we’re just having a lunch break, my loves,” 

“You mean…” Sirius begins. 

“We’re eating outside?” Regulus continues. Both look astonished at the notion. 

“Of course, it’s better than eating back at home,” it then occurs to you a simple explanation for their odd behaviour, “Do you two not want to eat outside?”

“No!” Sirius jumps over-excited before a flash of realisation flourishes in his grey eyes and he quickly drops back, “No, it’s not that, m-mother,” 

“W-we’ve just never eaten outside before,” Regulus explains shyly, “you have us on a strict dietary regime as a proper gentleman wizard of the Black family should be,”

“I’m putting a stop to that ridiculous ‘diet’ as soon as we get back,” they perk up at you but are quickly ushered forward to the nearby pub; unable to press you further on the matter.

Stepping into the Leaky Cauldron, you're greeted by the comforting aroma of hearty meals, mingling with the faint scent of crackling firewood and a faint fog of cigarette smoke. The space is a cosy retreat from the chaotic cobblestone streets outside. From the ceiling hangs several candle-lit chandeliers made of blackened iron, its flickering lights casting a warm glow upon the worn wooden tables and mismatched chairs positioned about the room. The walls are lined with shelves displaying an eclectic assortment of magical curiosities - from peculiar potion ingredients preserved in jars to enchanted artefacts that seem to hum with hidden power. An array of portraits decorate two parallel walls above brick archways. The portraits contain inky sketches that move about freely, some interacting with other portraits as a few characters walk between the varying displays. You guess they might be disappointed to realise that their selection of landscapes are largely the same - plain - but having the freedom seemed sufficient for them to stay jovial enough. At the heart of the room stands a grand fireplace, its flames dancing merrily within its brick frame. Its ochre light casts playful shadows across the room, socialising with the silhouettes of fellow bar guests.

Lighting within the pub relied heavily on candles so the atmosphere was quite dim but the tall candle illuminating the centre of your table gave the time spent there a very idyllic ambience. The two were unfamiliar with the menu items so, with their permission and trust, you ordered in their place.

Since Sirius didn’t mind what he got, you ordered for him Hunter’s Chicken. Regulus said he had a liking for fish so you got him a classic plate of Fish and Chips. For yourself, you got the cottage pie. For drinks, they got apple juice while you had a hot tea. Thinking back on the bland meals served at the Black family household, you’re certain that they were in for a treat today. 

It doesn’t take long for the meals to be given out after your beverages; thankfully all of your entrees were delivered together. In front of Sirius were two succulent chicken breasts wrapped in smoky bacon and smothered in a rich and tangy barbecue sauce, baked to golden-brown perfection. 

He takes his first bite and moans in amazement at the taste. The tender chicken yields effortlessly to reveal layers of savoury goodness - the sweet and smoky notes of the bacon harmonising with the bold tanginess of the barbecue sauce. Every mouthful he takes thereafter struggles between going slow or fast, the symphony of textures and tastes, leaves him craving more of the hearty dish. He doesn’t think he’s ever tasted something so appetising. Why couldn’t the food at home taste like this?

Regulus had before him a plate displaying a golden fillet of flaky fish. It’s encased in a light and crispy batter, served alongside a generous helping of thick-cut, crispy-on-the-outside-fluffy-on-the-inside chips, garden peas and a small ceramic of tartar sauce. Having not seen this appearance of a fish dish before, Regulus looks up at you with a curious look as if to say ‘What is this?’. You greet his curiosity with a sympathetic but patient gaze. 

Gently, you urge him to squeeze the lemon slice over the battered fish and nod when he timidly follows your instruction, “Now give it a try, my darling, I promise you’ll like it,” 

…and like it, he did!  

With each bite, Regulus is met with satisfying crunch after satisfying crush. The exterior is perfectly fried, giving way to the tender fish within. The delicate cod melts in his mouth, introducing the delicate flavour of the fish, complemented by a sprinkle of salt and the squeeze of fresh lemon. Together they create a harmonious balance of savoury and tangy notes that dance happily over his palate. 

“It’s delicious Mother!” Regulus grins with partially stuffed cheeks and crumbs of the batter decorating his lips. Sirius nods enthusiastically beside him, unable to speak from stuffing his mouth full of his chicken dish. 

“Big brother, you have to try some!” you watch with a heart swelling up from adoration and pride as Regulus offers a big chunk of his fish and places it onto his brother’s plate. 

“You too Reggie!” Sirius does the same with his chicken, generously offering up a portion from his plate. Once the two try a bite of each other’s meal, an explosion of ardour lights up their grey eyes, creating a galaxy of endless constellations in their wake. They are so precious. 

Giggling at their antics, you turn to your dish and begin to eat. In all honesty, seeing them enjoying their food for the first time had your stomach already halfway full. So you happily offered a portion of your cottage pie as well. They wanted to say no but you were much too convincing and when they offered a bite of their dishes, you explained that you were already getting full. 

They were named after stars but at this moment, their eyes held a galaxy of their own, just from tasting a delicious meal. You want to see them like this all the time…maybe you should begin cooking in the kitchen again? It was a hobby of yours that you enjoyed, baking too but found limited time to partake in it when your business had exponential growth.

Throughout the meal, you often forgot your unfinished plate to be able to tend to your boys. They’re not usually this messy but they were enjoying their food so well that they couldn’t help themselves. They haven’t tasted food this good before! 

“You two are so messy,” you joke, giggling to yourself as you reach over with a napkin to wipe at the edges of their mouths while they chew their food. A look of shame crosses their adorable, sweet faces and they slow their mastication, avoiding your gaze. 

“Sorry mother,” Regulus apologises meekly as Sirius mutters a similar apology beside him. 

“Whatever for?” you pout at them, “I love seeing you enjoying your meals so much,” their expressions relax slightly when they turn to gaze up to witness your kind smile, “maybe I should get a cookbook and begin cooking up some delicious meals at home for you two, hmm?” a wide grin overcomes them, their astonishment quickly washing away from their elation at the prospect.  

“Really mother?!” hopefulness makes Regulus’ voice raise an octave higher as Sirius bashfully stares up at you. 

“You’d do that?... For us?” Sirius’ voice comes out unusually shy. 

“Of course,” you shrug nonchalantly, trying to temper your exuberant grin, “I was getting tired of the dull, tasteless meals anyway,”

The main topic for the next visit was Eeylops Owl Emporium. 

In your head, you remember the dark feathered owl Sirius owned in the films who had a horrible habit of biting people. Surely it wouldn’t affect the timeline drastically if you bought a different owl for him. It’s been on your mind how you would like to write letters to Sirius regularly, especially during his first year. You might even convince Regulus to join you so you could send your letters together; you didn’t want your son getting bit every time you wrote a letter to him so you’ll be getting him a different bird for all prospective deliveries. 

Upon entering the shop, you encourage your boys to explore and keep a lookout for an owl that would be suitable for Sirius to have for school. In the meantime, you tried to pinpoint the owl with the terrible biting habit so that you may be able to steer Sirius away from ever encountering the bird. You don’t understand why Sirius would have ever decided to get a bird like that in the first place so if he manages to find it before you and decides he wants it, you don’t know how you’ll be able to convince him otherwise— 

“That insolent thing bit me!” as the original Walburga’s voice enters your head, an image of the familiar black-feathered owl flashes behind your eyelids. 

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

‘The amber-eyed owl, quick as lightning, launches its head forward with a vicious snapping of its beak. Successful in its attack, you reel your arm back – except it’s notyourarm – with a shriek of fright and pain. Upon looking down, you observe the torn fabric of your sleeve as well as the lacerated skin of your arm – still not your arm – which begins to bleed a crimson red. Anger and embarrassment flood your veins as you prepare to curse at the insolent thing but stop when your eyes lock onto the hidden smirk of your eldest son. 

“I want that one,” he says, a devious twinkle in his eyes. Before you could protest, his negligent and, often, preoccupied father, steps towards the shop clerk to request the owl for purchase. Orion hadn’t seen the vicious beast attacking you; too eager to return to his work and rushing through the list of school supplies needed for Sirius' first year. The man you call your husband only has himself to blame for waiting so late, only a week was left before Sirius had to depart for Hogwarts but, thankfully, most delivery services didn’t require that long to complete shipment.

“Let's hurry along then,” Orion clicks his tongue in displeasure over the sudden slowing of everyone’s pace, “we must be done by noon, I have better things to be doing!”

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Wh-what the–?” blinking rapidly, your vision of the present slowly returns as you reach out to grasp onto something just to steady yourself. Unlike all other squabbles, the original Walburga doesn’t return to elaborate in her screeching voice; she is unusually silent but you’re too dazed to point it out. 

You don’t realise what’s happened until you’re flinging your arm back with a sharp cry, cradling your arm to your chest. 

“Mother!” Regulus runs up to you with furrowed brows marked by distress, “Are you okay?” he reaches for your arm and you bashfully show him your injury, inflicted onto you by a black-feathered owl. The cheeky thing tilts its head at you as if it’s done nothing wrong and merely proceeds to preen its feathers, unbothered by the whole ordeal – so rude.

“Not that one,” Sirius glares at the malevolent bird, narrow eyes filled with malice before turning to you with a softened look of concern. 

“It’s alright my darlings,” you smile reassuringly at them both, “it’s just a scratch, let’s look for a different owl, alright?” 

It took a while to calm the boys enough to distract them from the mishap and finally return to the task at hand. You're injured but you, thankfully, didn’t have to do much to convince Sirius about choosing another owl. Only… The fact that your injury looks identical to the one that appeared on the arm of (what you assume) is the original Walburga’s vision, was disconcerting. 

You make mental notes of everything that happened in the short period, not wanting to ponder on the sinister details just yet, not when you were having such a fun day with your two boys. 

In the end, Sirius settles on a majestic barn owl with beautiful gold and white feathers. The shopkeeper informed you that the owl was a female as he prepared all the additional items you wanted to have with the owl; treats, a small care guide, its cage, water bowl, food bowl, and all of its necessities. You don’t want to acknowledge the shopkeeper’s suspicious gaze as it periodically falls on you. It was beginning to make you feel self-conscious and you’re eager to distract your racing mind. This was probably all original Walburga’s doing. You know how much of a bitch she is but her reputation is proving to be incredibly troublesome when it comes to interacting with other people. 

“What will you name her, Sirius?” you ask, hoping your voice doesn’t give away your discomfort. Thankfully, your question is a good distraction for everyone, including the shopkeeper. 

“I don’t know…” Sirius ponders to himself, “Maybe… hmmm… Owletta,” he grins cheekily, proud of himself for the creative name. You can already see the marauder in him and it makes you grin as well. 

“That sounds very fitting,” you wink at him as Regulus giggles to himself, enjoying the given name as well, “great choice,”

“What happened to the last owl you purchased?” the shopkeeper asks suddenly, finally finished with preparing all the items and eying you warily. You feel Sirius and Regulus’ eyes on you from his question as well and hurry to make an excuse. This situation has grown very uncomfortable.  

“Last owl?”

“Yes, the screech owl, from last week,”

“It was for a gift…to a friend,” you smile innocently despite your awkward wording, grateful that the shopkeeper doesn’t ask any further questions although he does appear reluctant to hand over Owletta. But with an impatient flap of her large wings, he hands her over inside her cage. She probably felt the taut tension of indecision in the air far worse than you.  

“10 galleons…” you gladly hand over payment and usher your boys out. 

This has the original Walburga's name written all over it. 

Continuing with the shopping, your next stop was Flourish and Blotts for Sirius’ books. The list of publications needing to be purchased was long, amounting to eight volumes of knowledge ranging from magical creatures to history and magic theory. You were tempted to read through the books yourself and learn a thing or two but didn’t want to appear lacking. As unfortunate as it is, you’re supposed to be the Walburga Black, a very proud, ‘high-class’ witch within the wizarding world, meaning that you had to be proficient in, at least, 1st year of wizarding knowledge.  

Fortunately, there was an owl delivery option for the books, which saves you from carrying the heavy load but you’re beginning to feel sad for the poor owls subjected to delivering such a package. Not only that but you worried for your poor Sirius’ little shoulders and arms having to carry around those heavy books at Hogwarts. You hope to god there’s a magic bag that could carry many things without transferring the weight onto you. From the books and the delivery fee, everything costs 14 galleons in total. 

It wasn’t listed on the official school supplies list but you had the foresight to go to Scribbulus Writing Instruments to buy an assortment of inks, quills and parchment. Sirius and Regulus were fascinated by the colour-changing inks available, some transitioning between two to three colours and some cycling through much more. At first, you found it odd that they hadn’t encountered such a simple and commonplace magical item before until you remembered their parents and all the unfortunate implications that came with that realisation. It made your fists clench in anger and had you impulsively buying a small pot of each colour-changing ink to the surprise and subsequent delight of your two boys. 

“Y-you didn’t have to do that Mother,” Regulus comments shyly with a soft pink glow dusting his cheeks as he cradles a small pot of colour-changing ink in his little hands. That particular one was his favourite, if you remember correctly, it transitioned through an array of blue hues. He looks so adorable; you don’t know how you were able to resist reaching down to pinch at his pudgy cheeks. 

“Of course, I had to,” you huff with a playful sternness before leaning down and bringing them in close to whisper for their ears only, it was as if you were telling a century-old secret. Intrigued by your actions, they lean in with rounded eyes of wonder, “But promise not to tell your father, he doesn’t deserve to know about our secret ink stash,” Sirius grins mischievously as Regulus' cheeks dimple. Nodding firmly at each other, your agreement was sealed and the three of you continued with your shopping spree. 

The next stop was Potage’s Cauldron Shop, where you purchased a small cauldron before getting potioneer equipment and a telescope from Wisearce’s Wizardry Equipment. Again, like all the shops before, it was incredibly touching to be able to see your son's eyes sparkle in fascination and wonderment. You can practically hear their thoughts. Even though Regulus has to wait another year before he can attend Hogwarts, they’re both glowing with enthusiasm and alacrity to learn and experience something new. It just makes your heart ache a little over how you’re going to be mostly absent from that venture, seeing as Hogwarts is a boarding school. In the meantime, you’ll savour having them with you now and spending the little time you have with Sirius worthwhile and carry that on with Regulus while his older brother is at school creating chaos with the rest of the marauders.   

Sirius’ assortment of school equipment was quickly piling up and so was his excitement. It was an excitement that proved to be very contagious as Regulus stood to his right, absorbing the delight that flowed from him in wave after beautiful wave. Seeing such precious smiles on their faces, it was hard to believe that the first day or so was filled with them fixing you with permanent scowls or passive expressions that were too mature and ill-suited to their youthful faces. These gorgeous smiles suited them a lot more… and you want to keep it that way. 

Stepping back out onto the cobblestone streets, you look around with your mental list of shops that still need visiting but find your gaze stopping on the sign of a quaint, unassuming shop dubbed ‘Belby’s Potions and Ingredients’. You don’t remember ever hearing of a shop like this being in Diagon Alley but that’s to be expected, the world building wasn’t very expansive in the Harry Potter movies or books when it came to Diagon Alley, and this is without considering that you were in a different era of the Harry Potter Universe. You’ve already come across some shops that you’ve never heard of before but sit comfortably, right at home, amongst the other recognisable shops in the district; this one in particular shouldn't strike you as so intriguing.

“Is that where we’re going next, mother?” Sirius speaks up, snapping you out of your dazed state. 

Smiling shyly, you make a small confession, “It’s not part of the list, I’m just hoping for a little detour to get you familiar with potion ingredients before school," you skillfully fib, "is that okay with you boys?” asking for their opinion and giving them a choice to agree or disagree always seemed to make them happy. It’s a freedom and a luxury, that they were rarely given when under the real Walburga’s ‘care’ so they were more than happy to oblige. 

“Of course that’s alright,” Regulus looks past the skirt of your black dress to meet eyes with his brother, “right, Sirius?”

“Yeah!” grinning happily, they hold your hands in their much smaller ones and start pulling you along to the shop, their enthusiasm making appear like normal, happy kids, “let’s go, mother!”

Looking up at the sign once more, you allow your curiosity to spring forward. Indeed, you can’t recognise this shop before your transfer into the Harry Potter, Marauders era universe but the name ‘Belby’ definitely piqued your interest. It’s on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t quite place where you recognise the name. 

Entering the shop, you were presently enticed by the entirely separate atmosphere it presented. Unlike most of the other shops that were, either, barely lit or bursting with colour, the atmosphere of this shop was remarkably serene. It was pleasant. A good change of pace. Switching from two extremes of decoration, it was relieving to finally find one that danced in the middle, leaning towards an aesthetic that was homey and unsophisticated. 

Your two boys were quick to begin surveying the shelves of products themselves - a library of carefully crafted potions and their ingredients. It was clear that they too, were welcomed and put at ease by the cottage-core aesthetic of the dwelling. There were dried bunches of flora hanging from the walls and ceiling, some with cute blossoms, frozen in their prime, whilst other herbage sported brittle stems and frail, veiny leaves. The colours of the ingredients and tightly packed potions meticulously measured into phials were somewhat muted but in a very pretty sense. It was like opening a beloved, ageing book and diving into its wondrous, antiquated tales, freckled with wise passages that transcend all time and languages. The shop was very small but also very charming and well-loved; you felt right at home.

As your two boys weave through the isles of merchandise, a genial voice calls out to you, “Welcome to Belby’s Potions and Ingredients, I’m Damocles Belby, how can I help you today?” at the front counter, you observe a man in his mid-thirties with a full beard and moustache framing a no-eye smile. Slowly easing himself out of his merry greeting, his eyelids unfurl to reveal a beautiful pair of honey-amber eyes. He looks kind; his affable demeanour is just as welcoming as his cosy shop. 

“Hello sir,” you hope your smile conveys, at least, half of the warmth of his own, “I’m just taking a look around, thank you,” he gives a soft ‘ahh’ of acknowledgement before nodding, “My two boys are also around here somewhere. My eldest son will be starting his first year at Hogwarts next month so I wanted him to get a little familiar with the potion ingredients he’ll be encountering at school,”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” Damocles grins in approval, chuckling to himself at your chest swelling with pride for your son, “what is your son’s name?”    

“Sirius Black,” you announce fondly, the friendly atmosphere coming to a screeching halt when realisation washes over Damocles’ features. The once cordial air has plunged to freezing temperatures within seconds, prickling your skin with goosebumps. 

“M-madam Black,” he greets formally with a bow of his head. It’s clear that Walburga’s reputation is notoriously menacing but you’re not her and you kindly ask that he refrain from such discretionary (in your eyes) behaviour. 

“I’m simply a mother to my sons and a wife to my husband,” a disgusting, pile of shit that’s a complete waste of oxygen, who doesn’t deserve the title of father or husband, “that is all,” your answer doesn’t soothe him as you’d hoped it would but your attentions are soon required elsewhere when you’re both drawn to an even cosier corner of the store. 

Led there by the whisperings of your two sons, both accompanied by a tired yet melodious voice, you are greeted with the most charming sight — your boys sitting at the foot of a rocking chair, where a frail but equally kind-looking woman slumps into, her pale blue eyes shining with fondness at them as she embroiders a shimmering pink thread into a plain square of cloth in her lap. She’s dressed modestly, with her top hiding her arms in long lantern sleeves as her collar stretches up her neck. The long skirt of her dress looks layered, puffing up at the sides of her seat and what little skin you would have seen at her ankles are covered in thick socks. You wonder if she’s cold at all. Or maybe she’s just a very unobtrusive person with a likeness for coquettish and demure fashions.      

“How do you know how to make the flowers if you don’t draw them first?” Regulus asks, peering over her lap in an attempt to catch sight of her work between her elegantly working hands. 

Sirius nods and adds to the conversation with his question, “Yeah, and why aren’t you using magic like everyone else?” 

“It comes with a lot of practice,” she answers your baby first before turning to your slightly older baby, “and I do it because I enjoy embroidering; besides…” she turns her work over to them, allowing you a glimpse of her masterpiece as well, “it always looks prettier when I embroider it myself,” your two boys ‘ooo~’ and ‘aaah~’ at her work. The interaction draws a soft giggle from you while the shopkeeper beside you sighs quietly – he sounds relieved. 

“Are you feeling better, my dear?” Damocles steps up to his wife, placing one hand on the head of the cane that’s kept beside her rocking chair. His other hand reaches up to curl his fingers into a shy ringlet of her blonde hair. They are a loving couple, a 'one true pair'. 

“Mr Belby, you need to stop being such a worrier,” his wife chides playfully at him, abandoning her embroidery to smile lovingly at her husband, “and besides, there’s nothing for you to fret about when I’m around such good company,” her comment makes you smile widely, proud that your two boys were growing a reputation of their own, ones separate from the infamous Black family. You can handle the stares and uncomfortable accommodations for your prominence but you wouldn't stand for them to experience it too. 

“Right, of course,” Damocles nods with a short but airy chuckle and nods at the boys thankfully when they shuffle their way back to you. Sirius and Regulus had never seen such an affectionate couple before; their parents weren’t like that. And, although they wish they could grow up under such a soft and healthy model of love, they know that it wouldn’t be possible; to them, mothers and fathers don’t normally show affection for each other and that was how it was going to stay between their parents. There was no use in hoping. 

“You must be these two young men’s mother,” Damocles’ wife meets your gaze and smiles, her beauty unable to be masked by her pronounced ailment, “My name is Ruth Belby, I see you’ve already met my worry-wart of a husband,” the two of you share a laugh before you’re able to introduce yourself as well. Unlike her spouse, Ruth's first reaction was not fear but rather surprise, an astonishment that quickly melted into a soft smile. 

“You two have a very lovely shop,” Sirius and Regulus nod eagerly by your sides, agreeing with your comment, “it’s so much cosier than all the other shops around here,”

Damocles’ expression softens, his eyes mirroring sweet honey before he presses a kiss to his wife’s temple, “It’s all because of my wife’s keen eye, I catered this place solely for her palates’ enjoyment,” 

“I’m very lucky in that sense,” Ruth’s twinkling laugh rings out as quickly as it gives way to a coughing fit. It sounds as though she’s trying to hack up a serrated knife, the sound of it making all witnesses' hearts shake with panic except for Damocles', who rushes about to quell her discomfort. He hides his worries well. His expression is completely neutral as he offers her a crisp glass of water, however, his other hand reveals his true sentiments – his true fretfulness. As soon as she's had her fill of the glass, Damocles offers up a phial of magenta liquid that you’re all too familiar with, “darling, there’s no need for that,” Ruth’s nose scrunches up at the appearance of the healing potion. 

“It’s for your own good, please Ruth. I only want for you to feel better, my dear,” she grumbles and whines but eventually gulps down the healing potion, taking a moment to get over the ghastly taste before changing the topic. Your eyes fall onto her with sympathy. That potion is truly disgusting. 

“That’s enough about me, I hear that this young man is going to be attending Hogwarts,” Ruth gestures to Sirius as you fondly bring up a hand to comb your fingers through his perfectly permed hair. 

“Yes, he’s growing up far too quickly…” you hum, melancholic despite only being with your newly acquired sons for a little over a week. Sirius’ ears tint a soft pink and he shyly peeks up at you with pouting lips. 

“Growing up is normal…” he utters like a grump. 

“I know,” you sigh in gentle acceptance, “but I quite like you as you are right now,” Sirius’ eyes widen in disbelief and his cheeks burn as pink as his ears. It’s an expression that makes you smile warmly, you like the appearance of it on him, he needs to express it more often, “I want you to stay like this with me just a little bit longer, is that too much to ask?” 

“...not really,” you didn’t expect him to answer but it was in a whisper so you had to lean down ever so slightly to hear him clearer, “I’ll try to stay like this a little longer for you…if you want,” his comment, heard by you and Ruth, have you both cooing at him as Regulus grins hard enough for his dimples to show again; his older brother’s rose-red face is so funny to look at! 

When it comes time for you, Regulus and Sirius to leave, you thought it would just be a regular goodbye but not for your two boys. They've made good friends with the couple, especially Ruth so a memorable adieu was in order. 

Regulus bows to Ruth like a true gentleman while Sirius places a small kiss on her knuckles, whereby he then turns to his younger brother and says verbatim: that’s how a true gentleman bids farewell to a beautiful lady. The gesture of your eldest made Damocles’ eyes bulge out as Ruth laughed aloud, her shoulders shaking as her eyes lit up in glee. It's a relief that she didn't have a coughing fit this time. You, yourself, don’t know why you were so surprised. It appears as though Sirius’ philanderer ways didn’t start in Hogwarts; he already had the potential even before attending the boarding school. 

With another wave of your hand and a glance over your shoulder, you leave the couple whilst leading your two boys to the door in front of you. 

It was then that you saw it… 

In Ruth, you saw your past self. It was like looking into a mirror, a mirror into the past where you couldn’t have children no matter how desperately you wanted to have ones of your own. Like you, she probably had a list of names picked out in her head already. Like you, she probably pictured their innocent, beautiful faces in the appearance of other children. Like you, she envied the mothers who were able to conceive and desperately wished for a miracle to happen only for that miracle to never materialise. It was a mix of hopeless yearning and doleful forbearance. From your peripheral, you discern a similar impression on Damocles as he stands beside his ill-stricken wife. 

Damocles Belby… why does that name sound so familiar to you?  

The boys did so well today. It was long and arduous and you could see the sun beginning to set, however, it’s never too late for–

“Ice cream?” Regulus asks with glittering grey eyes. 

“We can have two scoops each,” you announce, eager to reward yourself as well, “we deserve something delicious for our hard work today,” Regulus was bouncing on the soles of his feet, something both you and Sirius noticed.  

“You can go first Reggie,” Sirius smiles at his little brother, who turns to you with pleading eyes.

“Can I choose my flavours myself?” he asks to which you smile and nod. Eagerly, he looks through the collection of available ice cream and decides to go for, “one scoop of strawberry and peanut butter, and one scoop of apple crumble please,” he seems proud of his order and is soon savouring it with the happiest expression on his face. It’s unexpected but he, undoubtedly, has a sweet tooth. A studious, quiet boy with a secret love for sweet things - how charming and precious. 

“Can I have one scoop of the clotted cream, and one scoop of the sticky toffee pudding please,” just like Regulus, Sirius was soon delving into his ice cream too, both teetering on the edge of wanting to devour the rare, cold treat whilst also trying to make it last as long as possible. You giggle at their antics briefly before ordering your own two scoops from the same vendor who smiles at you kindly. In his gaze and wrinkled but dexterous fingers, familiar and elegant with their motions, express a love for his craft and a love for those who show their appreciation of it – the simple act of enjoying their ice cream was payment enough to him. 

“Thank you kindly, sir,”

“Not at all mam, enjoy yer ice creams,” the man offers a slight tip of his head upon accepting payment. 

On a nearby bench, Sirius, Regulus and you sit quietly together and finish your doubly topped cones, taking the time to observe passing wizards and witches while enjoying the little time you have left of your day out shopping. You don’t think the day could have gone any better, and Sirius and Regulus don’t think anything would be able to transcend the fun they’ve had. 

Meeting each other’s eyes, Sirius and Regulus silently agree that today has been the best day they’ve ever had, not knowing that you have plenty of great days lined up for them. 

NEXT. | 04 : BEGINNINGS → | SERIES M.LIST

A/N : it's finally here, my promised, final update before i go on my hiatus. i'm sorry it took me so long to get out to you darlings. after my indefinite hiatus announcement, i got really busy. however, i'm sure you darlings would be happy to know that my situation has gotten better. it's not to the point that i feel like i can comfortably write but i'm definitely getting there so i can confidently say that I can see myself returning from my hiatus later on this year. in the mean time, i hope you darlings enjoy this chapter and please take care! i love you all so much and i'll see you soon x 

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[bitchimasnake-sss]

bitchimasnake-sss presents: the one pieces AUs

01. (don't) let them cook! ft. vinsmoke sanji!

there's something about forced dating that makes me feel all giddy inside. and yes, that's my excuse for writing this. no, you don't get to judge me. how about you just read? synopsis: "fuck off, vinsmoke."//"love ya too!" when you heard the words cooking competition, you only heard two things: cooking and competition. and you only had one thing in mind: to get the cash prize and open your own bakery. sounds easy enough, right? then, why the fuck was management telling you to play lovers along with that blonde, heart-eyed freak who was supposed to be your competitor? vinsmoke sanji. risking your heart and cooking skills, all in the name of "increasing viewer ratings"? what could ever go wrong with this? cw: crack, close proximity, sanji is a flirt, and you're one right back. smut in the next part you horny fucks, i promise. wc: 8.7k [the banter got out of hand... so, i wrote too much of it.] m.list

week 03. challenge: teamwork makes the dream work, fuckers!

"okay then!" jordan ramsey, the head judge clapped his hands to gather your attention. cameras rolled, the crew shifted behind the spotlight, as the judge scrutinized you all under his heated gaze.

from your peripheral vision, you could see eleven more contestants, each perched on one clean, nicely-equipped station. four people in front of you, one to your side and five more people to your back.

the blonde chef continued, "working in the kitchen is all about teamwork. you're all talented on your own, you've proved that so far. but if all of you did your own thing in an actual kitchen, the place will burn down and you all will kill each other with a butter knife."

you caught the people in front of you laughing and exchanging giddy glances, all while your stomach grew tighter and tighter. a light headache built in your temples as your stomach sunk under and under and under. oh my god, nami. why?!

"so, today's challenge will be a team challenge." the older man continued, "i will divide you all into teams of two, and you'd have to work together to make this shit work. good luck!"

and your partner was obviously vinsmoke sanji. damn. curse you, nami!

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

previously: during week 02.

your right hand ran over your left arm, trying to soothe the goosebump-ish skin. the cabin was unusually cold, and you instinctively tried to sink back further against your seat to find some inkling of heat.

sighing, your gaze darted around the cabin. you were sat at the neat mahogany desk which had a framed photo of red-head with a pretty blue-haired girl, another one of a group of odd 20-somethings with stupid hair colors, like who even dyes their hair moss green?, a few files and a neat pen-stand. the walls had been smothered with tens upon tens of polaroid photos, a whiteboard with the word STRATEGY and more storage for files.

the plaque outside the cabin had read HEAD PROJECT MANAGER: NAMI.

when you had been called to her office, you had vaguely recalled a pretty red-head of the same name from the interview round, but now you sat in nauseating suspense as your nails clacked mindlessly against the wood.

creeaak! you were pulled out of your trance by the soft groan of the door opening.

"sorry for making you wait." her bold red lipstick caught your attention before she did. heels clacking against the marble floor, statement earrings swishing with every step and red hair tied into a near ponytail, the project manager walked into the room.

as she softly sat down in the previously unoccupied leather chair, her knifelike gaze was trained on you.

pretty manicured hands came to clasp on the table and she rested her chin atop them. a polite smile made it's way on her painted lips as she addressed you, "sorry about the wait, i had to take care of something important."

"it's fine," you shook your head, hands still running up and down your cold arms, "could you tell me why i'm here?"

"of course!" nami laughed but it felt more like a formality, "but before that, how has your experience on 'master chef: all blue' been thus far?"

"oh? well," you tried to think back to your experience. thus far, only two weeks had passed by, and you had shot only four episodes in total. you had managed to survive and maintain a steady reputation for yourself in the top five.

so, all in all, "good." you concluded, "it's been going pretty good."

"that's a relief, and have you made any friends here? any connections?" nami mused, and you found yourself growing confused. you had made a conscious decision to not be buddy-buddy with anyone on the show. you were here to win, not to make lifelong friendships.

clearing your throat, you admitted, "no... not yet, i mean. why do you ask?"

"it's no biggie, let me explain," she waved her hand, giving you a persuasive smile. you nodded and nami continued, "see, the production company runs this show to make money. and the contestants, much like yourself, come here to win money. with me so far?"

you nodded once more, "good. basically, the production makes money off of you as much as you do off of it."

you were vaguely reminded of hearing about the owner of the production: sir crocodile. even the name sounded shady, you had no clue how nami worked under someone like that.

"—and i make money if everything goes smoothly."

"right?" your brows furrowed, tone growing unsure, "sorry, but what does that have to do with me?"

"it has everything to do with you." nami moved backwards, each step calculated. as her back rested against the fine leather, her fingers stayed clasped over the mahogany, "with every other contestant too, to be honest. you see, if the contestants are entertaining, the viewership goes up. and if the viewership goes up, we make money. and everyone's happy."

you scoffed, fingers clasping to mirror the woman in front of you, "we're pawns, you mean?"

"don't make me laugh." words sharp, eyes sharper, "pawns don't get the chance to win 250 grand now, do they?"

"fine, continue."

"im trying to help." her tone softened. well, no, it was more calculated now. "we've noticed from the past two weeks that you don't particularly get along with anyone. keeping to yourself, barely saying anything, only work, it seems. and that's a fucking shame cause you're clearly talented and can win this show."

your eyes widened, mouth growing dry at her unwarranted praise. suspicious. "how do you know that? it's been two weeks."

nami winked, "i am a pretty good judge of character. but..." she drawled on, "you're not entertaining, girl. you are no fun to watch. and frankly, the audience wouldn't root for a character like that! it's television, after all."

"but i'm not a character," your palms flattened against the cold, wooden desk and you leaned forward, "i'm a person."

"a person who admitted in the interview round that she wants to 'win this shit' at any cost." the red-head peered at you as if seeing past your flesh and bones, "and to 'win this shit', you need to be atleast a little bit marketable. it is television, after all."

you leaned back, eyes narrowing, "what do you want, nami? say it clearly."

"hm. just look at this once." the red-head reached for one of the files kept to her left, and carefully pulled out a black file with multiple coloured tabs. she flipped through documents before settling over one, and sliding the document to you.

"what do you think of vinsmoke sanji?" nami asked as you stared down the photo of the blonde, heart-eyed freak that was your fellow contestant.

you shuddered at the mere idea of having him around.

chants of all kinds of overtly sweet nicknames left that blonde chef's lips as if it was the same as breathing air, and no woman in his vicinity was safe. you had made it your mission to stay as far away from him as possible. his darling, love, sweetheart would not sway you! but you had to begrudgingly accept that you respected him. after all, he was in the top five consistently for the past two weeks, and that had to mean something. that something being: he was a fool, but a well-deserving fool.

"he's talented," you stared at nami, stating mere facts, "knows what he's doing in the kitchen, and is a terrible flirt."

"do you dislike him?"

"i don't feel anything in particular about him." and it was true. he was attractive, had a way with words, and knew how to work the knife. an ideal man in a cringe-fail way, you suppose. but at the end of the day, he was still a competitor. you continued, "never talked long enough to get to know him, frankly."

"let me paint a picture for ya," nami grinned, cat-like, "imagine the cold, far-removed woman falling for the overtly flirtatious man. slowly growing warmer to him, talking to him, laughing at his terrible pick-up lines. doesn't that seem entertaining?"

"perhaps it does." you paused, mulling over her words. when you spoke, your voice was thick, as if you had been asked to offer your heart, "but i presume that i'm the cold woman in the story, and sanji the overtly flirtatious man?"

"you're smart."

"thankyou," you dragged the seat back and stood up, "but i am not gonna sell my dignity for the sake of a character. i am here to cook, and i'll do that."

"ah," nami tipped her head back to look at you, "what a shame. i was gonna compensate you 5k per episode. and since we have about 2 and half more months, that's roughly 20 more episode." she sucked in a breath, "such a shame, could have made 100 grand. i believe it's a good amount of money to use for the bakery."

"huh?!" your eyes widened, "what? you'd pay me 100 grand?! for pretending?!"

"well, of course." nami nodded solemnly, "and i suppose that if your relationship did well, and we got more viewer engagement and buzz... then, who knows? maybe i could have increased the price to 10k per episode." nami stood up, sighing, "but since you don't want this—"

"—you'd pay me this amount even if i don't win?"

check-mate. nami smiled politely, "of course. we'd officially put you on a contract, make you sign a NDA, yada yada, a whole bunch of things. but—"

"okay, then!" you nodded, cutting her off enthusiastically, "i can tolerate sanji, or whoever for that matter!"

the red-head cooed, "but what of your dignity?"

"my dignity won't pay my bills." you replied coolly, "should have mentioned the price and i wouldn't have bickered so much."

"you're smart," and then the red-head grinned, "i like you. let me get the contract."

"oh," the manager cut herself off, a hand outstretched in your direction to shake it, "just one last thing."

"hm?" you clasped her soft hand in yours, "what is it?"

"say you won't fall in love."

"never will."

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

week 03. continuing the challenge: teamwork makes the dream work, fuckers!

"you're as radiant as ever, love." the man hummed loud enough to be caught by his mic as he walk past you. and hey! it's not your fault that your nose scrunched up and disgust and you threw up just a little bit in your mouth. he seemed to be enjoying this.

your brows furrowed as you hyper-focused on the bell-pepper you were chopping, refusing to look up at sanji as he softly moved past you to go sauté the onion and garlic.

nami had advised you to stay unreactive this episode. don't flirt back, but also do not start gagging every time the blonde spoke. 'it's the start of the love story of the century!' she had said, and you had been a buffoon who had nodded, thinking 'how hard can tolerating sanji be?'

very hard. because it seemed as though sanji had got the memo to be as obnoxious as humanly possible. or maybe that was just his personality?

as he chopped another shallot into paper-thin pieces, his mouth kept running and running and running, "the first time i saw you, i kept thinking that i don't think i've met someone quite as gorgeous as you. but then you were ignoring me, and i kept thinking well that's kinda hot—"

"sanji, saute these next." you cleared your throat, giving sanji a polite smile, "i'm done cutting the bell peppers."

your partner nodded, giving you a grin, "aren't you the best, gorgeous?"

"jus' doing my job, unlike you." you mumbled under your breath as you focused your direction on another task. but sanji slowly bent down, head tilting towards you to hear you better, "sorry, did you say something?"

love story of the century, my ass.

as much as the love-story had been staged, the outcome of the challenge hadn't. you two had put aside all differences and put your best dish forward, and now you stood in front of the judge as he taste-tested your meal.

"hm," mr. ramsey paused, feeling the flavours slowly. he slowly lifted his gaze to scrutinize sanji, then landed his sharp features on you. putting the fork down, and wiping his mouth slowly, he finally started talking, "i had seen a little bit of buddy-buddy thing going while cooking today."

sanji laughed and you just coyly smiled as the chef continued, "i was scared the food is gonna taste awful, and it does." he paused, and you pretended to be shocked for the sake of the cameras rolling around you, "awful...ly good, that is. so far, today, this is the best i've had."

the other contestants clapped as the two of you bowed, muttering thankyous and holding back cheeky smiles. at the end, you and sanji ended up being at the top, and were given immunity from the next day's elimination challenge.

you had exchanged congratulations and thankyous and were walking out from the filming set when you felt someone catching upto you. towering over you, all you could see from your periphery was blonde and blue.

"hey," sanji grinned, his pace slowing to match yours, voice silken, "we did pretty good today, didn't we?"

"yeah, thanks for the help." you nodded softly, focusing on making your way back to the hotel all the contestants were staying in. it was a five minute walk away from the filming set, and once everything wrapped, everyone usually made their way back and chit-chatted in the lounge. well, everyone except you.

"don't mention it." sanji cleared his throat, trying again, "uh, you don't really hangout with anyone afterhours. you okay? which room are you in, anyways?"

"you don't need to know that."

"uh, right." he nodded, attempting to continue the conversation, "well, sorry. it's just if someday i needed to get to your room, i should kno-"

"why would you need to 'come to my room'?" your eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

pervert!

"oh?" the chef spluttered, eyes widening as he tried to defend his questionable character, "i- i was jus' saying randomly. i didn-not mean to—"

per—

"—vert!" you halted, and he halted right next to you. towering over you, he was dressed in a casual white t-shirt, jeans and a blue button-up on top. the fabric softly swayed against the nightly wind as you looked up at him, "do you have no shame?! i just met you!"

"i am not a pervert! i—"

"are you a," a small gasp, hands flying to your lips as you drank in his towering form, "liar too?"

"huh?! no!" he rambled on, "no, obviously not! i am not any kind of that thing!"

maybe you were a sadist, because watching vinsmoke sanji unravel at your words, as red as a beet made you feel giddy inside. for a moment, he wasn't the suave, fast-talking ladies' man. he was just a man. how fun! and then a sickening idea grabbed you by the throat and shook you like a rabid dog. a dawning realization. you could toy around with sanji outside of set just as much as he did with on set!

"no, no" you wiggled your index finger, and he grew red at your accusations. face warming, eyes panicky, he croaked out, "what do you mean no no?!"

"i used to think that your overtly-flirtatious nature was a facade to hide behind the real you," you tsked, face drawn up into a mock frown, "but you." you pointed the index finger at him, "you, good sir, are a pervert!"

"no!" he pointed his index back at you, wild hands trying to coherently explain his character, "i am not! i am just a lover of women."

you scoffed, "lover of women? which woman loves you?!"

his jaw slacked open, "i- there are women that like me!"

and you crossed your arms around your chest, "where?" you craned your face to look around, bringing a hand to your forehead as you conducted your investigation, "cannot see them anywhere."

but fuck, what was vinsmoke sanji if not a bastard of a man?

the same index finger that had been trying to defend his character now came to pull your chin up to face him. his voice softened, "maybe you could be the woman that loves me."

eyes widening like saucers, tongue-tied. what?! whAT?!

your steps fell ahead, deliberately leaving the man behind you. you didn't even bother to turn around shouting a high-pitched, "uh, see you at set later. bye!", you disappeared down the alleyway that led to the hotel.

"atleast give me your room number!" he shouted after you as you ran to the hotel lobby with a red face and adrenaline pumping through your jelly-like limbs.

"bye." sanji replied back softly, his gaze still tangled against the spot where you stood moments ago. he could smell the sweet perfume, almost imagine the bounce of your hair as you ran away from here. and he fought back a little smile as he shouted out to the ghost of you, "uh, see ya later!"

fuck. was this the man you were supposed to fall in love with?! what a nuisance.

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

next morning, 8:03 a.m.

well, if he was going to be a slick bastard, then so were you! manners be damned, he needed to come back to reality.

"morning, love." the suave pathetic blonde cheerfully greeted you as he sunk into a seat next to you at the breakfast table.

you looked up from your scrambled eggs, confused. you pointed to yourself, finger on your chest, "me?"

"who else?" he asked, digging into the waffle he had picked out for himself, "slept well, yesterday?"

"couldn't." you admitted before shoving a mouthful, "was too scared that you'd find my hotel room, pervert."

he just laughed, "the only thing i'd like to find is the door to your cold, unyielding heart, my love."

"keep searching your entire life, then."

"what's a lifetime in front of you?" he put a hand on his chest, voice pained, "i can spend my entire life just waiting for you to glance at me."

you dragged your eyes up from your plate and to him. boring your eyes into his heart-shaped ones, you paused for a moment. then another.

"i looked at you. happy now?" you went back to eating, "now shoo."

from the one moment you spent looking at him, you noticed that sleep still lingered in the cresses on his cheek, and his hair was tousled, way curlier than it was on set. and you vaguely wondered if he straightened his bangs. should you ask hi— no.

he plastered on a dopey smile, "ah, this was only one of the thousand looks i'd want from you."

"jesus christ," you muttered as you dragged your chair back, "better start counting, i'll make sure to give you a thousand glances till the finale."

he whipped his face back to grin at you, "promise?"

you made your way keep your dishes in the pile of used plates, "fuck off, vinsmoke."

"love ya too!"

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a week later, 10:53 p.m.

"someone asked me if i believed in god," sanji hummed thoughtfully, "and i replied that she's right in front of me."

"blegh!" a shiver ran down your spine, goosebump erupting on your skin violently, "please don't say things like that on national television!"

"huh?" sanji cocked his head, his hand coming to slowly feel up his stubble, wavy hair falling in front of one eye, "i thought nami-swan said to take the flirting up a notch."

nami had actually said that the relationship was coming across as staged. "add authenticity!" she said, "it'll be fun!" she said.

"i know that." you groaned, falling on sanji's bed. you two were holed up in his hotel room, trying to discuss "strategy" as nami called it. you stretched your hands and legs, toes curling as the tension slowly left your mortal body, "i know, but that's too much."

he fell on his back, laying next to you and staring up at the ceiling. his shoulders brushed against yours, and from the way sanji shuddered you were sure he felt the adrenaline pumping through his flimsy veins at 5x the speed you felt. swallowing thickly, he asked, "then what do i say?"

with 100k on the line, you had to do something!

"say nothing, have you tried that?" you answered back unhelpfully and he stuck his tongue out to retort, "how is the audience suppose to buy that?"

"love doesn't always need to be said out loud." you shrugged, using the action as an excuse to scoot away from the blonde, "i dunno, though."

"why? have you never been in love, mademoiselle?"

you laughed pitifully, a half-baked kind of sound to mask your burning face, "why are we getting to know one-other now?"

"who knows?" he grinned as he sat up, looking back at you with a certain glint in his eyes, "maybe we'd figure out how to pretend to love each other better."

when you looked at sanji like this, all big grins and tousled hair, you couldn't help but smile. he looked like a kid at the candy store and he looked at you as if you'd buy him the whole place. for a moment, you thought, if he were to smile like that, then maybe you would have bought him an entire candy store.

"have you been in love?" you asked slowly, hands coming up to fiddle with your hair.

"yes?" he tipped his head back, the blonde locks falling away from his face for once, "no. maybe not. i don't really know. how do you even classify love? cause i know i've thought about marrying quite a few women."

"just say you're pathetic." you rolled your eyes, mocking him, "'quite a few women.'"

"hey, are you jealous?" and there it was, that dopey grin again.

"no." you glared at him, sitting up, "you're just so obnoxious some times."

"you want me so bad, it's obvious." but he held up his arms in surrender lest you punch him, "anyways, what were you saying about love?"

you drawled on, trying to come up with something that made sense. eventually, pulling up empty, you muttered, "well... i've heard it's a bitch."

he laughed, and you laughed too. turning left to face him, he spoke aloud, "isn't that reassuring?"

time slowed down, the air grew thick. you and sanji looked at each-other with frozen smiles on your face. his black eyes boring into yours wordlessly, and an uncertain itch travelled up your spine. why were you two sitting so close?

gaze drifting down to his lips, you found yourself talking, "love demands sacrifice, and a lot of energy. it's hard."

but sanji was a quick-witted man, and oh, how he would be the death of you. "how can loving somebody like you be hard?"

he brought up a soft hand to your cheek, face tilting towards you. he held the inches between you, waiting for you to jump forth, grab him by the collar and kiss him till he lost all cognitive senses.

"do you straighten your bangs?"

"huh?" that seemed to break him, "uh... yeah? i like them straight."

now, why did you ask that?!

"okay, okay." you just cleared your throat, looking away and slowly shifting backwards, "well... point being, uh maybe i should start flirting back with on camera?"

"huh?" he asked softly. gaze still stuck in a haze, lips still parted in anticipation, "what?"

"about what nami said?" you emphasized, trying not to get lost in his intent gaze, "like, maybe it'll look more believable if i start flirting back."

he nodded, pulling back finally, and you questioned how much was he actually processing, "yeah, sure."

"okay, then." your legs swinged off of his bed and you stood up, "i'll see you later."

but his warm palm came to catch your wrist. warm. it made your stomach churn uncomfortably. you look down at him, tugging your wrist, "what?"

"n-nothing." he pulled his hand back to his chest, but not before tracing your rugged hands under his fingertip. his gaze fell to your knees, words dying in his throat, "goodnight. sleep well."

you nodded, wordlessly turning around to leave. pacing through the spacious room, you stood in front of the large door. your fingers hung limply around the cold, brass doorknob before you yelled at, "sanji? one last thing."

you heard heavy footsteps and the shadow of a man on your back a few seconds later. his words were hasty, tone depraved to hear what you wanted, "yes?"

"say... you won't fall in love," your voice quietened, "right?"

the pause on his end lasted a century. but when he finally spoke, his voice was thick, "never. don't worry."

"good." you turned the door-knob, opening the door with a soft creak, "501, by the way. i'm in room 501. night."

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

week 06 challenge: friends and foes!

sanji didn't really come to see you in your room, or stand outside like some creep. both things surprised you, but you held your tongue back. it is a good thing, after all! good thing he is keeping his distance!

lost in your own world, you looked down at your palms. rugged, dirtied, cuts on each square inch from your failed attempts of cooking as a child.

"—for the nth fucking time, the kitchen isn't just about doing your own thing. it is a place of compassion, comradery and team work." jordan ramsey prattled on, rubbing his hands together as he addressed the remaining eight contestants, "so today's challenge will be simple. whoever shall win's today's match is gonna get the rare advantage of making it safe and sound to the semi-finals. that's two weeks worth of immunity."

the desperate contestants in white aprons looked around, gaze darting from one to the other as they tried to sense the threat in their own kin. a few daggers were aimed at you, and you shook off the uneasy feelings by focusing on what the head chef was saying.

the judge clapped once and all eyes fell right back upon him, "kitchen is all about making good food, but also good connections. so, today, whoever so wins gets the chance to take another person with them safe and sound to the semi-finals."

your eyes shifted through the line-up of candidates as tangled against sanji's. no words were exchanged between the two of you as you went to your respective stations. you looked over your shoulder to catch the blonde's eyes, and he smiled at you softly. holding a thumbs up, you returned the gesture.

what a dork. a small smile tugged at your lips as you turned back around to look at your spotless station. wait. why are you smiling?

for a moment you found yourself growing concerned. well, it's cause of the new strategy! you're gonna try to flirt back, yes!

but your chest tightened, nimble fingers clasping together in an effort to ground yourself. you looked back once more, and found sanji still looking at you. breath hitching in your throat, you whipped your head back around. huh?! why is he still staring?

over the past few weeks, you had come to tolerate vinsmoke sanji in all of his stupid glory. a flirt, but also someone who wore his heart on his sleeve. over the past few weeks, he had stopped flirting with the other female contestants. his eyes always coming to find yours, and when he smiled, it was always directed at you. and somehow you always smiled right back at him. why was that, again?

over the past two weeks, he had taken it on himself to walk you to and from the filming set, to offer you water between takes and to listen intently when you rambled away at whatever bothered you in the kitchen today. vinsmoke sanji made your gut twist unnaturally whenever he stared down at you like you were all his. he made your head spin whenever he smiled at you like he was all yours. what a fucking nuisance.

so, obviously, you had come to the conclusion that he must be a damn good actor to make you question your sanity like this.

to distract yourself from the dawning realization that vinsmoke sanji may have been more than you were expecting, you examined the ingredients on your counter. a slight frown covered you whole. everything sour? you never were good at making sour things, and they had come to be the bane of your existence. fuck.

jordan ramsey spoke again, "today's challenge is sweet and sour. we have picked at random the flavors for you all, and you must make the said flavor the primary one in your dish." he clapped, "you have ten minutes to use the pantry and collect the needed ingredients. let's get moving, chop chop!"

the contestants scrambled from their working stations to run towards the pantry, and you found yourself in the dairy section, trying to pick up milk.

"what did you get? sweet?" sanji asked, his words suave as he tried to pick as many things as possible in one hand, "sweet just like you?"

"sour. the way my mood gets whenever you show up." you bantered back, moving around the pantry looking for unripe mangoes, "what did you get?"

"sweet. but i don't i can make anything sweeter than you, love." he picked out a carton of milk before trailing behind you. he laughed, "i guess that's my short-coming as a chef."

"ugh, you have many shortcomings as a chef other than that." you mumbled, finally picking out two unripe mangoes.

"huh?" he leaned down to hear you better, tone so terribly cocky, "you mumble a lot, you know? sometimes, i wonder if i'd miss your feelings cause you're mumbling, gorgeous."

"my feelings right now is that can't we trade? i am terrible at cooking anything sour, i can never get the taste right." you looked over at him, and he froze as soon as you made eye-contact. you waved your hand, finding yourself growing concerned, "hey? hey? you okay, sanji?"

"huh?" stuttering, looking away from you, "i- sorry. but uh, let's try our best, gorgeous."

damn. he was good at acting. the way he looked down at you, irises practically hearts with the way he took you in, and a soft blush across his face as he tried not to drop the collected items in his hands.

well, the cameras were already rolling, might as well make a show of it. so, you found yourself on your tip-toes, your soft, concerned voice against the shell of his ears, "you're blushing too hard, everything okay?"

his eyes widened at the soft pangs of air on his neck, and he pulled back instinctively, "uh— sorry." he dropped the small box of strawberries, "s-shit, what's happening to me."

"you two lovebirds okay?" the judge laughed, "vinsmoke you look like you're about to burst open."

"s-sorry, chef." the blonde knelt down to clean the mess he had created, and you bent down to help him. your foreheads bumped and you felt him shudder as your pinky brushed against his.

"sorry, sorry." mumbling, he stood quick, way too quick. you were still on the floor as he mumbled a thanks and scrambled back to his station.

"you're welcome?" you whispered, still looking at where the man once knelt. your heart grew heavy at his absence, and you tried to ignore the way your chest tightened as you walked over to your cooking station.

when you looked back at sanji, his brows were burrowed as he stared down at the ingredients. your chest tightened more as you dragged your gaze away from him. what was he doing to you?

12:04 p.m.

vinsmoke sanji one the challenge. he muttered a faint thanks as chef jordon pinned an immunity pin to his white coat. patting him on the back, the older chef spoke again, "good job, vinsmoke. now it's your turn to choose a partner you wanna save."

your gaze drifted downward, too scared to meet his eyes. the blonde chef cleared his throat, "uh... the person i wanna save is..." the next thing you heard was your name and reluctant claps from the other six contestants.

your eyes widened, cheeks flushing a deep red as you looked up to stare at sanji. you expected him to smile, to make a cocky remark, but he just met your eyes with same flushed cheeks.

the judge laughed, beckoning to you him, "knew he would pick the lady who has got him all tongue-tied. get up here, and get your immunity pin!"

"thank you."

12:52 p.m.

"this feels wrong," you mumbled, not looking up at the man next to you, "so, so very wrong."

"why?" he asked back. since the pantry incident today morning, sanji had recovered fully into his unabashed, perverted self, "would you have not picked me if you had won, pretty?"

"of course, i would have." and it surprised you how easily those words came to you. you turned to face sanji, "but only cause i know nami would have wanted us to..." you paused, "pick each other, and not- not because of any other reason! it's for the viewership!"

"i know," he nodded, and his hair shone under the overhead sun. face casted under melancholic shadows, he concluded, "it's the same for me, so, don't feel so guilty. this is good for making people think we're together."

"maybe." you two were walking back to the hotel, talking amongst each-other as you crossed the busy road. you fidgeted, "but i don't wanna be in your debt."

"well," the blonde stretched his arms upwards, the muscles of his bicep straining under the button-up, "i mean, you can always pay me back. but just being in your ever-radiant presence alone is a cathartic expe—"

what does that pervert mean now?!

"what do you mean?!" and your words came out more accusatorily than you intended. eyes flaming as you stared up at him, index finger jabbed square in his chest.

you felt the firm muscle underneath and pulled back when your stupid brain suggested to feel him up more. the picture of a flushed-face sanji under you, top off, flashed in your mind and you shook your head wildly to let the image out of your filthy brain. were you growing just as perverted living with him?! how terrible!!

you started walking again. fast. and stumbling over your words like a drunkard, you tried again, "uh- what do you want?"

he held up his arms, long legs falling in tandem with your rushed steps, "i meant like you could buy me a drink or something maybe?"

"oh?" you looked at him, dumbfounded, "just drinks?"

"huh?" a smug grin tugged at his lips, and he shrugged, "wanna pay me back some other way? i wouldn't be opposed to it—"

"—no!" you pushed him away, rushing to get into the hotel lobby, "no! obviously not." collecting your keys from the reception, you called him over your shoulder, "just uh, text me the details of where you wanna meet. okay?"

12:55 p.m.

"—but is it correct?" your tone was hasty and the red-head laughed, "yeah, totally. i can send some paps to take staged photos of you two walking into the bar. they'll click a few shots, leak them and voila! tiktok edits of you two will start circulating. it'll be soo good for business."

"so, you want me to agree to go out for drinks with him for the sake of more engagement?" you huffed, sinking down on the soft mattress, "that's coldhearted."

"hey, you are the one who asked if you can go with him." you could almost imagine the red-head sinking back into her leather chair as she spun up some idiotic genius scheme, "and i'm saying i can use this opportunity to further your relationship thingy. say 'thanks nami!'"

"thanks, nami?" you mumbled and she laughed, "have fun with your date today! let me know the details and i'll send the paps!"

before you could explain that this wasn't a date! you were just repaying favours! nami cut the call.

you swiped through your messages to see sanji's unread ones. it read:

VINSMOKE SANJI: 12: 54 uh, mclaren's pub tonight? 12:54 does 8 work for you? 12:54 it's nearby, we can walk. idm. 12:56 sorry about the triple-texting, i swear i'm not desperate. 12: 59 okay maybe a little desperate but uh, see you at eight.

mclaren's was the bar a street away from your hotel. since all the shooting sets were nearby, packed into one neat hub in the grand LAX, the filming crew, management and occasionally, the contestants got to frequent the bar. it was a selective pub, only letting people with specific IDs in.

YOU: 12:59 yeah, eight works fine. see you down at the lobby.

VINSMOKE SANJI: 1:00 can't wait, gorgeous. 1:00 i mean i can wait, don't worry. 1:01 sorry that sounded like i am forcing you to be on time. i don't mind punctuality. 1:01 i do, but only in the kitchen. sorry about that.

jesus christ. you almost snickered at how pathetic sanji was at texting.

YOU: 1:01 don't worry about it, see you then.

no sooner had the text been sent that you found yourself falling back on the mattress. as your back bounced, you stared down the ceiling in an unfair staring contest. hands dragging over your face, and an ungodly groan left you.

increased viewership be damned! you were just doing this for your extra 100k.

8:03 p.m.

"hey!" sanji greeted you with a grin as you found him at the hotel's entrance. he was dressed in a white tshirt, a casual blue overshirt and jeans. you smiled back, nodding in acknowledgement, "hey."

"you're so gorgeous that sometimes i truly think i might be dying each second over and i come alive only long enough to look at you once last time." sanji smiled, offering you a hand as you crossed the road.

you eyed his hands; neat, pristine hands. hands made just for preserving the art of cooking, it seemed. as your weary palms met his warmer ones, your voice grew weak, "do you say that to every woman you meet?"

"huh?" his brows furrowed, pretty lips falling into a pout, "no, of course not. every pretty lady gets her own individual line. i'm not like those cheap loverboys that uses the same card a million times."

you found yourself glaring at him, and he squeezed your hard gently in return, "how considerate of you."

but your gaze melted into nothingness when he smiled again, his blonde locks swaying under the strong autumnal winds. how pretty.

get a grip. you pulled your arm over your waist, looking for an inch of warmth against your own accursed touches as you walked next to the man you were to love. you hummed, "oh, by the way nami said that she'd send some paps to get our photos."

"did she?" the blonde asked earnestly, hands softly squeezing yours as he led you through an alleyway to reach the pub, "why?"

you found yourself shrugging, more focused at the way the his back muscles pulled and pushed under the shirt. his hand was gently holding yours, guiding you as he walked in front of you. you mumbled, "who knows? must be some business thingy."

"she's smart though, isn't she?" sanji's voice swooned, hands clasping as he fondly remembered the red-head and her assets. and you felt a bitter pang in your chest, the kind that permeated your bones and made your skin crawl inwards.

huh? what was that? jealousy?

you shook your head. no. it's just cold. holding yourself harder, "yeah, she is."

you're not sure at which point paps were to take your photos, so, as a precaution you pressed yourself to sanji's side. leaning against his firm biceps, you caught your intertwined hand with the other one.

"wh-what is it?" the blonde asked softly, and something about the waiver in his voice made you feel he might have a nosebleed at the fake physical touch.

"they might take pics whenever." you admitted more into the material of his sleeve than to the man that towered above you. "i'm just trying to stay prepared."

"uh huh, yeah." he nodded, head almost falling off at the rate he was nodding, "uh... you can hold onto me."

you looked up at him, only see him unraveling at your skimming touches. fighting a grin, "don't mumble, sanji. someday you might confess and i might miss out on it."

"if i confess, i'd do it with all my heart and soul. and at a good place." prideful words, "not in a shabby alleyway right this."

"hm? really?" your nose scrunched up, cheek resting against his well-defined bicep, "is that line new or did you recycle, loverboy?"

a gasp left him and you almost rolled your eyes at his dramatic nature. sanji huffed, "i would never dishonor someone as radiant as you with a recycled line."

"how very considerate of you."

11:55 p.m.

"sanjiii," your sweet words slurred just a teensy tiny bit, weak hands stopping him from downing another shot, "don' drink so much."

"but we have no shooting for the next two weeks! huzzah!" he defended himself, raising his hand to order four more shots.

"no, no. sanji, you dumb-dumbass!" you stressed, but made no effort whatsoever to send back the waitress carrying the four shots on a tray.

you two were huddled in one of the far-off, darkened booth of mclaren's pub. edm played in the background, and from your unstable vision you could see sea of bodies push and pull against each other. the neon lights painted them all in blasphemous shades of sin; grinding, kissing, leaning on each other.

you dragged your blurry vision back to sanji.

the blonde in front of you had slumped backwards. pretty lips agape and a delirious smile on his lips. you tilted your head slightly, leaning forward and forward till your foreheads could touch.

"ahaha, what're you doin'?" the chef laughed, bringing up a finger to flick at your forehead. and you fell back, as if taking 5x damage from his light touch.

putting both your hand on your forehead, you felt up the light thump, thump, thump of an impending headache. you huffed, "nothin'. was doin' nothin' at all, loverboy."

"is-ish that nickname gonna stick?" he huffed in return, pulling another shot-glass to his lips and downing the liquid in one swift go. you looked on, hyperfixated, at the way his adam's apple bobbed and a little bit of liquid spilled past his lips, down his chin and onto the table.

"i dunno, loverboy." you replied honestly, leaning forward to grab another shot for yourself. the glass felt delicate in your grasp, as if one wrong breath and it'll shatter up. downing the liquid, you hissed as the warm fluid left an ungodly sting down your throat and chest.

he remain unmoving, gaze fixed against the low-cut of your top.

"sanji," you repeated, tugging his sleeve to bring him out of his daze, "are you listening?"

"huh?" he blinked, bleary gaze being broken from your tits to come rest against your pretty face. he didn't listen what you were saying, more like he couldn't.

look, vinsmoke sanji knew he was perverted. but how could he not stare you down when your pretty tits were right there! and the way you licked your lips to collect the last remaining drops of the alcohol on your painted lips, it made him imagine the way he would kiss you. what would you taste like? like the same alcohol on his tongue? or something much more recklessly divine?

"d'you think people believe th-that we're like... a couple?" he asked absentmindedly, nimble fingers offering you another shot, "li-like is it believable?"

"yeah," you nodded. you guys weren't allowed phones, or any other piece of technology. you all had been giving phones with just each other's contacts, contacts of the managing team and emergency numbers. technically, all you knew about the world was through nami right now.

"really?" he asked, dumbfounded and you nodded harder, "isch... isch 'cause you're good at pretending to be in love or- or whatever." you found yourself laughing, "sometimes i feel like you can even fool me."

"hm?" sanji stared you down, "fool ya?"

you shook your head, holding up a palm to explain yourself further, "sometimes you look at me like ya love meee." you giggled, "but i know isch not true, you're just good a-at acting."

"no- no, i'm not." now he shook his head, strong, warm hands interlocking against yours, "i think you're sho pretty."

you attempted to crush his hand, not buying his bullshit, "ya think every girl with tits an' ass is pretty, vinsmoke."

"using the family name?!" he mumbled, distraught, "d'ya hate me?"

"nooo!!" you softened your touch against his palms, "i like ya... i think?"

"huh?" he grinned, maddened, "f'real?!"

"uh-huh, uh-huh."

"YOU TWO!" a shrill voice cut between you two. the red-head grabbed both of your ears with a pinch of her manicured fingers, "IT'S ABOUT TO BE TWELVE. GET YOUR ASSES BACK TO YOUR ROOMS."

"ouch ouch ouch—" you both hissed as she dragged you out of your booth. finally letting go, she grumbled on, "honestly, what the fuck am i? your bodyguard?! get a grip, and head back!"

she called out to some zolo? zoro? wowonoa wowo? you're not sure, but a strong moss-headed man held you two by the shoulders and softly led you out into the cold, bitter night.

"who are you?!" sanji hissed, shimmying off the man's touches, "mosshead!"

"don' be mean." you hit sanji's upper arm, turning around to smile at the uptight man, "sorry 'bout him... he's dumb."

your voice turned down into a whisper, so that sanji couldn't hear you, "an' he only cares about woman. he's a pervert!"

the man looked amused, half-snickering, as he followed nami and led you two back into the hotel lobby.

once inside the warm, familiar lobby, nami flicked you two with her indexes, "dumbasses. both of you! when you said a drink, i didn't think you'd get wasted."

"nami-swan~" sanji cooed, hands rubbing together as he smiled at the manager, "you're so cute even when you're mad."

and hey, you were drunk! so, surely it's not your fault when you 'accidentally' stepped on sanji's foot. and then again, and then one more time.

"aishhh~" he hissed, bringing his left calf up, "what?!"

"go to bed. both of you." nami sighed, rubbing circles into her temple, "zoro can you take them to their rooms?"

"huh?!" the man sounded surprised, "do i work under you?"

the manager hissed back, "yes, you do. technically. now, zoro."

the man named zoro grumbled but grabbed sanji by the collar and you by the elbow anyways. as he led you two down the hallway that opened into the elevator, he whisper-yelled back at the red-head, "say you'd forgive my loans now!"

"never." the red-head whisper-yelled back, "take them away. i need to go handle pr now. these fuckers will make me age at 2x speed."

"bye nami!" you waved as zoro shoved you and sanji into the elevator. grumbling, he asked you your hotel rooms and before you knew it, your face was pressed against the neat, white pillowcase and your eyelids were heavy.

1:39 a.m.

knock knock knock.

you opened the door to a very far-gone looking sanji. he grinned as he pushed past you and stumbled into your room, "ni-nish room."

"ugh," you tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes, and tried to pray away the steady headache building in your temples, "whaddya wan'? 'was sleeping."

the blonde turned around, a steady hand on your cheek and the taste of alcohol on your lips.

"wha-" another hand came up to cradle another cheek, lips pressing against you as he drank down any semblance of sanity you retained.

pushing you back till you were against the door, his tongue pushed past your pretty lips. warm. he felt warm, from the tip of his fingers splayed against your cheeks to how his knee was pressed against your core, the way he kissed you.

he kissed you. vinsmoke sanji just kissed you!

bug-eyed, sobered, you watched as he pulled away. licking his wet lips, a stupid smile on his face. but before you could ask him questions, or worse, take his shirt off, the blonde turned around. saying nothing, he just flopped down on your bed and pressed his face on your pillowcase.

huh?!

"what are you doing?" what was that tone of yours? apprehensive? scared? excited?

but he just beckoned you over with a sloppy shake of his right palm.

"what?" you mumbled as you trudged and stood next to him on the mattress. your voice hardened, "i'm not fucking ya like this, 'm tired— w-wait what?"

a strong hand tugging your wrist so that you fell atop him. strong arms enveloping your waist, and hot, steady breath on your forehead as sanji snuggled next to you. you could smell the expensive alcohol on his lips, the liquor-induced haze in his eyes, as he pulled you flush against himself.

"couldn'- could-" he hiccupped, "couldn't sleep alone. let stay li-like thish."

and how could you deny him when you wanted nothing more than to stay like this?

you found yourself burying your face against his white t-shirt, smelling in the french cologne he always wore. on a high of your own, you mumbled against his clothes, "you smell... nice."

but the man was out of it. before you could even get the sentence out, you heard soft snoring from above you. easy rise and fall of his firm chest against your face, strong arms caging you in. and all you could think as you fell asleep was: what a fucking nuisance. well no, all you could think of how warm he felt, how right he felt against you.

vinsmoke sanji will be the death of you.

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

next morning, 9:41 a.m.

"jesus christ," nami found herself muttering as she saw you and sanji tangled together - just a mess of sheets, and limbs, and stupid decisions, "what's the one thing i ask people? to not fall in love. what's the one thing they do? they fall in love."

"they could've fucked with no feelings though?"

"you shut up." she glared at the man next to her, "i told you to drop them at their own rooms."

"i did." zoro hissed, crossing his arms as a defense, "that blondey love-cook has legs. he obviously just walked over. what am i supposed to do? guard him all night?"

"but what are we even looking at?" a raven-head boy chirped up next.

"luffy," nami groaned, "you wouldn't understand."

as the red-head turned on her heels, pacing the room while assessing the damage, zoro decided it was his turn to be educational.

"uh," the mosshead tried to come up with an explanation, "when real feelings get involved, it gets harder to predict what people will do next."

"so?" the bug-eyed boy asked, still confused at why his friends were this upset that two strangers probably fucked.

"so, it means i cannot just give them memos and ask them to pretend anymore!" nami groaned again, still pacing, "they'd get their feelings involved, ruin the trajectory of the story and then, all my work goes down the drain! crocodile won't give me a raise! this is the worst."

"worry not." luffy put a hand on nami's delicate shoulders, giving her a wide smile, "i can jus' ask dad to give you a raise, nami."

nami patted luffy's hand, giving him a sympathetic smile, "thanks, luffy. but croc will kill me if i asked you for help."

zoro asked earnestly, "if you die, will my loans be forgiven—"

"—no. obviously not. i'll send vivi after you."

"dammit."

the commotion was enough to wake you up. you sat up, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes. your blurry vision raked over the room, from the blonde chef passed out next to you to the three people in front of your bed. wait, three people?!

wide-eyed with a terrible headache, you asked, "what are you guys going here?!"

nami cocked her head to look at you, "cleaning your mess."

"wh-what?" but before you could even organize your thoughts, nami leaned forward to meet your eyes in a heated gaze, "tell me one thing. you remember how much i offered you?"

"yes? 100k?" you swallowed, and she peered down at you like a hawk, "good, so, your memory doesn't fail you. now, do you remember what you promised me?"

"yes?" you tried to avoid her gaze, voice shaking, "d-don't fall in love?"

"good. so, don't fall in love."

shit.

a/n: yes, a part 02 will be up sometime soon. i'm too dumb and always think one part is enough but it never is ugh. thankyou if you've read so far. ilysm!! may you get some cold, hard cash as a reward hotties mwuah <3 tagging: @mist-ixx @otkuhotgirl m.list

[keen-li]

What you need | 03

Synopsis: everybody needs, but how do you define need? Do you even know what you need.

Genre: best friends au, angst, fluff, smut, slow burn.

Jungkook x femreader.

wc: 4.9k

Prev | next

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Jungkook completed the end of his deal, now it’s your turn.

Your shoulders and eyebrows rise in unison as you walk into the moderately lit large space. Your eyes glance over all the arranged equipment and you can’t help but frown at yourself.

Your jean, turtle neck and black blazer outfit contradict the environment you’re in. You look so out of place that it warrants some unwanted eyes, but it could also be to the fact that you look lost.

The place is so intimidating, you feel like a little doe in a room full of lions. You wonder why they are so many men in here. You swear it was an all-gender gym.

You’ve seen this gym before but because you’ve never stepped foot into it, you barely know the layout or the rules.

The girl at the reception looked at you weird when she saw your outfit.

‘’do you have a membership?’’ she asks unamused, for whatever reason.

‘’no, I’m actually here to see a friend’’ you don’t care for a membership, with the way you walk around at work that’s enough working out for you.

‘’well that’s not how it works you need a membership to enter’’ she says matter-of-factly. You can’t help but notice how bitchy she sounds.

‘’i-well I’m not here to workout’’  i don’t know if you could tell.

She just stares at you and you stare back.

You can’t help but sigh and roll your eyes.

All this trouble just to be where you don’t want to be.

You guess that’s how jungkook felt when you had to style him and his hair for his date. But he did it anyways, and so do you. you don’t know how you’re gonna pass those doors though.

You could bolt through when someone who has a membership walks in, jungkook would laugh at that story. But you don’t want any bad blood or embarrass yourself with getting kicked out.

So you do the only thing you can do.

Call jungkook and cancel.

‘’i can’t kook because i don’t have a membership ‘’ you whine turning to squint at the girl at the reception. She looks like the type that’s bitchy cause she’s worked here for so long.

The corner of your upper lip twitches.

‘’i told her she should let you in when you come’’ he sounds so breathy ‘’did you tell her you’re here to see me’’

‘’nope but i told her I’m here to see a friend’’ you hear him chuckle. You can’t help but feel like he’s mocking you.

‘’tell her your name and that your here to see jungkook’’ his laugh dies down.

You scoff and roll your eyes. This is too much work.

‘’and how am i guaranteed that she’ll let me in?’’ you question with a little sass in your tone which jungkook catches. He always does.

‘’she will, trust me’’

jungkook knows you can be awkward, nervous and anxious in new situations. And since he knew you couldn’t walk in without a membership, he called in a favour from his good friend Liz. The woman you’re currently having a one-sided feud with.

You hum before the call is cut. And with your tail in between your legs you walk to the reception.

She stares at you ready for your words.

‘’i’m here for jungkook’’ you almost murmur almost too low for ears to catch

‘’your name?’’ you groan, how hard can she makes this for you. Being here dressed like a billionaire single mom here to see her son is embarrassing enough.

‘’y/n’’ you say tucking in your lips.

‘’okay you can go in’’

You release the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

So it was that easy, you slap yourself mentally. You give her one last look, as if apologising for overreacting.

Your heeled boots clink against the clean white floors. You’re glad the gym noises and music drown out your heels and banging hearts.

You look around for where jungkook texted you he’d be.

At the end with the dark windows.

Wooow. If only he knew how many ends had dark windows. You curse as you continue walking. You jump over rolling dumbbells and duck people doing pullups. Is this what being at the gym is:

Playing Mario kart.

You gasp when a figure bumps into you.

‘’im sorry i didn’t see you there’’ he turns.

And you couldn’t believe your eyes.

‘’hoseok? What the fuck are you doing here?’’ you once over him in his gym outfit. You never had seeing hoseok in the gym or sweaty on your bingo card.

‘’working out,duh’’ he gives you a look ‘’ i should be asking you the same, but looking at your outfit i don’t think you’re here to workout’’ his eyes glance you over, he saw you wearing this outfit at work today and he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to tell you how much this outfit doesn’t look so bad on you.

You can’t help but feel small under his intense gaze.

‘’i’m not. Just here to see a friend’’

He nods, not really caring. ‘’enjoy your workout’’ you say as he turns away.

You roll your eyes at how he just hums.

You never thought of hoseok as the gym type but you guess he didn’t get that figure for free. Maybe you should get to the gym too, hoseok was pretty much telling you that with his eyes anyways.

Now back to finding jungkook.

“yn’’ you were walking around aimlessly when a familiar voice calls out your name.

Oh that’s the end he was talking about. Honestly it looks the same with the others, except for the large punching bag hanging for the ceiling.

Your eyes are met with a smiling jungkook as you giddily walk over to him, you have to physically stop yourself from skipping.

Seeing jungkook is always comforting and peaceful.

His curly hair falls loosely on his face. It still shocks you how fast his hair grows.

His black t-shirt falls baggy over the his fern green cargo pants, you remember gifting him those when you were starting off your friendship. You didn’t know what to get him for his birthday cause you didn’t know him that well. So you just got him those pants with a hoodie. He was very appreciative. You would say you’re a better gift giver now, cause you know what he likes.

You walk over to him and his eyes don’t leave you as you approach.

You’re about to open your mouth to greet him and scold him for bad direction, but you’re shushed when his hands wrap around you and lift you off the ground. You use his shoulder for balance. The action takes you by surprise cause jungkook’s has never carried you like that, but you’ve never visited him at the gym as well.

As he sets you down you realise how nice it feels to be carried. His  hands don’t leave your waist as you look up at him.

‘’i like your outfit, but i thought you’d dress more...’’ his eyes look around and you understand what he means.

‘’i came here immediately after work kook, so i didn’t get to change’’ you stare down at your outfit with a pout. he licks his lips as he nods accepting your reason.

The close proximity causes you to see jungkook in another angle, a very good one at that. Your nose takes in his scent, even though you can smell the sweat it doesn’t bother you cause it somehow mixes with his cologne and forms a scent so masculine you wanna drown in it.

‘’plus i came here to watch you workout’’ you push him away at the chest and jungkook moves away, not offended at all. ‘’not me’’

As he moves away he realizes how carried away he got with the feeling of you being close. Having you look up at him like you just did makes his heart rate faster than exercise.

‘’i hear you chicken’’ he grins and you raise a brow at his new nickname for you.

He tries to play of the feeling of being enamoured by your scent.

‘’chicken?’’

‘’yeah chicken’’

‘’and why is that?’’ you fold your arms over your chest.

‘’because you failed to get past Liv’’

The receptionist? You roll your eyes. He can’t tease you for this cause he knows you get anxious and your brain stops working.

‘’you can’t bla-‘’

‘’chicken’’ he sing-songs swinging his head side to side as he puts his boxing gloves on.

You roll your eyes, he’s not going to stop teasing you with that.

‘’so am i a chicken or bunny’’ you take a seat on the bench next to his things, you know cause you recognize the scent.

‘’i think....’’ he pretends to think as he walk over and towers over you.

And in a low voice and flicking your chin he says ‘’...you’re mine’’

You’re taken aback by his words and it causes a tingle in your stomach. Yoiu brush off the feeling as a normal human reaction to being taken aback.

‘’i’m just joking, look at your face’’ he lets out a chuckle and so do you, but yours is more awkward.

‘’i think you’re more a bunny’’ he walks back ‘’that’s why i call you bunny’’

You just stay silent with your words not knowing what to say, you don’t think, or want to think any of it cause that’s how jungkook jokes. But it’s been a while since you’ve heard him joke like that, maybe it’s cause you were in a relationship with yunho. But now you’re not so he brings back his teasing.

That’s how he is, you can’t think more of it.

‘’oh i forgot to introduce you to yoongi’’ he says calling you from the abyss of you mind.

‘’ yn this is yoongi my boxing partner’’ he turns to you. ‘’and yoongi this is my good friend yn’’

You wave at yoongi and give him a warm smile, he simply raise his hand and mumbles out a hi.

With the way he doesn’t smile at you, you think he’s probably not fond of watchers or maybe it’s just you.

‘’you missed the warmup, but you can watch the first round’’ he informs. You hum still not used to the environment. your heart begins to quicken but you try to ignore it as you see them getting ready to start.

‘’you’re not going to wear head gear or something’’ they both laugh out and make you sound like a noob.

‘’it’s okay to take a hit or two raw sometimes, princess’’ new nickname unlocked.

You don’t know if the jk in the gym is the same one you know. He seems more cocky and ... flirty, nothing you can’t handle. Just not used to it.

You sit back and shut your mouth. You don’t want to say something and not seem like you know what you’re talking about.

‘’i’m not going to take it easy on you just cause your girl’s here ‘’ yoongi fixes his glove.

‘’i don’t need you to take it easy on me.‘’ jungkook husks out, eyes lowered and fists prepared.

Your scent grazes jungkook’s senses in that moment and he loves how, in addition to your perfume, you’ve been smelling like lavender lately.

The lavender scent is like a fuel for him.

Yoongi throws a punch and jungkook is almost met with it before he dodges it.

He grins as he licks his teeth. That would’ve been a bad way to start.

He’s tryna get you to like boxing, he can’t if he’s losing.

You’re sat shit scared in your seat as you watch jungkook almost get hit. You can’t handle this, and you just started.

Jungkook throws a punch but yoongi blocks.

Grunts, curses and smacks echo in the room as jungkook and yoongi go at it. No one’s taken a hit yet but that only makes your anxiety rise. Why does he have to have you here.

A form of motivation.

 A reminder of his strength.

That’s why jungkook boxes.

 He’s loved it ever since he was a child. He’s father had him in a class for a month before his mother said it was dangerous. If only his mother was willing to watch him box like you.

But you aren’t willing, you’re just on obligation.

‘’that was a light round’’ you hear him say out of breathe. The way he breathes and the way sweat drips down his face as he does so has your heart beating carelessly, and it shouldn’t.

You cross your legs as you watch him wipe his sweat off with his shirt.

‘’YN’’ he calls your name out aggressively.

‘’huh?’’ you come back from where you went.

‘’i said are you good, do you want water’’

You shake your head at the water.

‘’im fine.’’ You’re not. The room feels hot even though it’s an open space with air conditioning.

You wonder how much jungkook pays for that membership.

‘’good. Now time for round 3’’

Your eyes bulge out at his words.

‘’round 3?’’

Jungkook turns to you with knitted brows and laughs at then shock on your face. From your body language and eyes he can see how tired you look. You’ve been at work and it’s not fair for him to keep you here for over 45 minutes, when his date didn’t even last a quarter of that.

‘’i promise this is the last round then we can go home, okay?’’

You nod and lean back taking in the fact that you have to stay here longer. It’s getting late out and you wonder why the gym isn’t closing but then it clicks that it’s a 24hr gym.

If jungkook wanted he would stay here the whole night. Gym bros.

You stare at your gym bro analysing, there’s something different about jungkook. You wouldn’t place him as a gym bro, maybe because you know him outside the gym and he’s your friend.

But its nice and warms your heart to watch him do what he loves.

In the past two rounds not much has happened except for the hits yoongi had to take from jungkook. You found yourself unintentionally cheering, you wonder why it didn’t bother you seeing jungkook hit someone but the thought of.......

Bang.

That’s all you hear until your gasping, the blood drains from your face.

Yoongi just hit jungkook. Your mind is racing like a soccer mom until you see jungkook recover, still doesn’t help the ache in your heart.

You know it’s just a friendly game, but yoongi is really making a bad impression for himself.

The way yoongi throws another punch has you cringing in your seat.

This is torture.

For jungkook this is motivation, he blocks the third punch that comes his way.

No way he’s gonna let yoongi smack him a third time. Fuck no.

With determination filling him, he throws rapid smacks and punches. He continues until all yoongi can do is block.

‘’time out, time out, time out’’ yoongi calls out and jungkook ceases his throws. He smirks knowing he’s won.

‘’that wasn’t a win jeon’’

‘’it sure was’’ he chuckles out. ‘’what do you think bunny, did i win?’’

He turns to an exhausted looking you.

You have no opinions let alone knowledge on these things.

‘’what i think...’’ you make a dramatic pause ‘’ is that it’s time to go home’’

Jungkook scoffs as he rolls his eyes at you.

‘’fine’’ he starts taking off his gloves and bandages and nobody as ever looked hotter doing something mundane ‘’since you’re tired we’ll end it here’’

‘’how caring of you’’ you murmur.

He grabs his bag and you stand finally glad that this is over.

‘’it was nice beating you yoongi, see you later’’

Yoongi scoffs at him.

‘’it was nice meeting you yn, even though we didn’t talk much’’ he says instead.

You chuckle un-enthuastically. ‘’it was nice meeting you too, maybe we can talk when you’re not punching each other’’

You both awkwardly laugh at that.

You and jungkook walk out the gym doors as fast as light, mainly cause you’re pushing him out the door.

You walk a little slower to his car in the parking lot.

‘’you wanna drive?’’ he stretches his keys out to you but you shake your head so fast as you run to the passenger’s seat.

‘’chicken’’ he says as he opens the doors.

You’re sat and the warm air from the air conditioner pushes out the cold Seoul night air.

‘’did you enjoy?’’ his bellow voice speaks as he drives: one hand on the steering and the other on his thigh.

You turn your body to him, head still resting on the car seat and body relaxed. And as you stare at him your eyes almost closing you can’t help but think whether he looks hotter driving or boxing with yoongi.

‘’i enjoyed watching you do what you love’’

Watching him box, even though it was torture, was heart-warming. Cause even though you’ve been friends for long, there’s still somethings that you need to know and understand about each other.

‘’do you wanna watch me do it agai-‘’ he smiles but your abrupt voice interrupts him.

‘’nope.’’ You shake your head ‘’i never want to do that again’’ your head leave it’s comfortable position.

He chuckles and licks his lip. Your brows knit when you hear him hiss at the cut on the corner of his lip.

‘’you okay?’’

Jungkook’s confused at your question and when his turns to stare at you he’s met with your thumb on his wound.

‘’does it hurt?’’ you ask worried. Jungkook tries to keep his eyes on the road but his head turned to you.

‘’just stings’’ he speaks your thumb caressing his lip.

You don’t realiz but jungkook does, the way you caress his lip and stare at it makes the air tense.

‘’i’m okay yn’’ he wraps his hand around your wrist, and it’s nothing more than a warm and gentle touch ‘’but, you’re gonna make me crash’’

You were so focused on him that you didn’t realize he was driving. You feel stupid you don’t even know why you got carried away.

‘’oh, sorry’’ you abruptly move your hand away. Jungkook’s hand leaves yours almost like he didn’t want you to stop. But he lets it drop anyways, now he has both hands on the steering.

You fold your arms and let the silence sink in.

‘’who was that guy you were talking to’’ you give him a confused hum. ‘’in the gym’’

‘’uh, hoseok?’’

‘’hoseok? Isn’t that the collegue you say is a pain in your ass’’

‘’yep, but i think im a pain in his too’’ you chuckle ‘’were even’’

Jungkook shrugs.

‘’i was actually surprised to see him in the gym’’ jungkook watches you ponder on something ‘’but i guess he didn’t get that body from bossing me around’’

Jungkook looks at that lost look on your face.

‘’looks like someone has a crush’’ jungkook melodies out.

‘’heck no’’ you puff out ‘’ the last person i’d have a crush on is hoseok. He’s attractive of course but a crush is going too far’’ you argue.

‘’you think he’s attractive?’’ his voice lowers.

‘’yeah i do’’ you spit out reluctantly and watch the look on Jungkook’s face.

‘’what?’’

‘’you have a crush on him, yn’’

You scoff. ‘’i don’t have a crush on him’’ you argue. ‘’if i had a crush on everyone i found attractive, i’d have a crush on you’’ you spit out without thinking, you kinda regret saying that.

‘’i dont know if i should be offended or honored’’ jungkook chuckles.

You want to add on but his words cut you off.

‘’we’re here’’

You turn out the window and see the familiar building you haven’t seen in a while.

‘’kook, you were supposed to take me home’’ you whine.

‘’it’s the weekend, stay at mine. It’s been a while since you’ve visited me.’’ It’s almost like he’s begging you and it cause you a little smugness.

You ponder not needing much motivation anyways. ‘’okay’’

Jungkook’s surprised that you’ve accepted so easily but little does he know that you’ve been wanting an excuse to leave your house, too many pieces of yunho left around. Plus, you’ve missed you and jungkook’s little sleepovers.

‘’but i’m getting the bed’’ you declare.

‘’you’re gonna have to fight me on that one princess’’

You loved jungkook’s bed, there was something so soft and comforting about it. Maybe it’s the fluffy beddings and the fact that it smells like him.

-

When jungkook turns the lights on you realize how long it’s been and how you’ve missed the warm and homey feel of his home. Maybe it’s just because you’re finally in a place that has nothing to do with yunho.

The warm feeling in your heart extends to your skin.

Contrary to you’d thought before you met him, Jungkook’s house has a feminine and floral scent to it. Which creates a soft ambience (with the help from the light colours of his walls.)

he slumps himself on his couch, manspreading everywhere.

You place your purse on his minimalistic, white modern kitchen table.

You grunt as you slump down next to him, bodies only centimetres away from each other.

His body immediately turns to you as you sit.

‘’your house hasn’t changed one bit’’ you say and he looks around.

‘’yeah, i’m not that creative. It needs a woman’s touch’’ turns to you and you shift in your seat.

‘’you still have the plants I gifted you’’ you turn to the short three leafed one by the hallway the small one on his coffee table and the large ceiling touching one at the corner of the couch (which was a pain in the ass toe move in, for jungkook and jimin)

‘’they look healthy’’

 jungkook looks at you as you admire how attentive he’s been to your gift.

‘’yeah, i’m a great plant dad’’

You both smile.

And for a few minutes there’s a comfortable silence as you stare at each other. Nothing but smiles around, it’s almost awkward for some reason.

‘’are you sure your lip only stings’’ you go back to being worried about how it’s starting to bruise.

‘’i actually forgot it was there’’ he says softly as his fingers caress it and you watch every move he makes.

You watch him look at his fingers checking for any blood. There’s none and it cause a smile on his face, yours too.

You awkwardly and quickly move your eyes away when he lifts his eyes to look at you.

‘’you should put some petroleum jelly on it’’ you lecture out as you clear your throat.

Jungkook smiles.

‘’will do after i take a shower’’ he stands and your eyes follow him.

‘’do you wanna like..’’ he points between the both of you.

‘’ew, fuck not jungkook’’ you choke out.

‘’come on, we’ve done it before’’ he defends arms open.

‘’that was at the public beach shower and jimin and willoe were there too’’

‘’that doesn’t change anything’’ he grins sarcastically.

You roll your eyes.

You and jungkook are comfortable with eachother but you don’t think it’s that far that you can shower together. Naked.

You wouldn’t be able to do that, feels like crossing a line.

‘’go take a shower i’ll wait’’ you shoo him away.

Jungkook doesn’t argue and watches you pull out your phone.

He was only joking about the shower thing anyways, he hopes he doesn’t make you uncomfortable

But your legs on his couch make you look more than comfortable.

It makes him happy to watch you relax especially with what happened with your boyfriend, well ex now. That’s why he’s been trying to get you out and forget about it.

‘’pick a movie’’ he tells you before he leaves.

-

‘’i can’t believe how tight these shorts have become’’ you walk into the living room with the shorts you left at his house 6 months ago and one of his grey t-shirts.

Jungkook watches the subject of your concern. He doesn’t mean to but he’s got eyes. He watches the shorts you wore 6 months ago at your sleepovers and he can’t help but notice how they wrap tightly around your thighs, accentuating your curves.

‘’they don’t look bad right?’’ you frown.

And all jungkook can find to do is shake his head.

‘’as long as you’re comfortable’’ he can’t seem to move his eyes away from you.

‘’shockingly they’re still comfortable’’

You take a seat close to him and your shirt (well his) rolls over your thighs lightly.

‘’what snacks did you get’’ you lean over to the coffee table and Jungkook’s  eyes move with your body.

He can’t help but think of how a loser yunho is for letting you go. But you’ll find someone better than him. Someone who cares about you and will  take care of you like you deserve.

Jungkook coughs out causing your brows to frown.

He honestly doesn’t know why he’s behaving like this. It’s just you he shouldn’t be acting this way.

The air seems a little bit different ever since you and yunho broke up. As much as you’re still the same girl he’s known these years, same one who denies herself of good things and thinks any of these guys are good for her-ugh it pisses him off for whatever reason-

Whatever.

As much as you’re still the same girl, you just seem different nowadays and he doesn’t like it. Makes an uncomfortable feeling brew in his chest.

‘’you good?’’ you raise a brow at him.

‘’huh?’’ he sounds so dumb right now.

‘’you’re staring at me all weird’’ you give him an awkward smile and stuff your face with some snacks.

‘’yeah i was hoping you feel my glare for making me go on that date’’ he turns to the movie and grabs a can of beer.

A little beer sprits onto your thigh as he opens it. He quickly reaches out to wipe it and mumbles an apology.

Little goosebumps form on your skin at the touch and you shift in your seat.

‘’i was meaning to ask, how did it go?” you try to keep a relaxed tone.

‘’boring’’

You scoff.

‘’how was it boring? I picked the best’’ you lean your elbow against the couch to get a better look at him.

‘’you did, but she wasn’t my type’’

‘’has your type changed cause, last time i checked she’s definitely your type’’ you narrow your eyes at him.

You watch a smile grow on his face and one does on yours too.

‘’see? She is your type’’ you slap his shoulder and laugh.

‘’you’re right she is’’ he chuckles playing with his lip ring.

‘’then what happened?’’ you bug at him.

‘’i don’t know, i guess my priorities aren’t on dating right now’’

You groan at his words.

‘’then what are your priorities on?’’ you lower your voice in a mocking tone.

You watch him down his beer, place it on the table and turn to you with lowered eyes.

‘’you’’ he simply says but the one word stops your thinking and your tongue to stop.

‘’i’ve been worried about you’’

‘’and you don’t have to’’ your legs meet the carpet.

‘’you say that, but you’ve been off ever since...’’

At the thought of it your heart drops and your face does to.

‘’i don’t want to talk about it’’ you frown.

‘’that’s the problem, you’re avoiding it an waiting for the next douchebag to come and break your heart and give you a new reason to be depressed.’’ Jungkook says getting carried away in his passion to express his thoughts.

‘’what the fuck do you mean by that?’’ your reaction causes him to rethink his approach.

‘’yn-‘’

‘’-no. What are you tyring to say, that i jump from guy to guy’’ you raise a brow at him and his blood pressure raise. He knows his answer but he doesn’t think he should answer especially seeing your reaction.

‘’listen...’’

Jungkook doesn’t even get another word in when you’re standing.

‘’maybe i should just go to sleep’’ you say sounding down and jungkook couldn’t feel any sicker.

‘’yn please’’

‘’good night kook, see you in the morning’’

Jungkook sighs as he watches you disappears.

That’s not how he was wanting it to go.

He leans back into the couch. Well you did end up getting the bed after-all.

As you lay down you think about whether you’re actually upset. You know he’s kinda right, he’s delivery was awful though.

But you can’t deny.

That’s why you decided to leave the dating scene, nothing ever comes out of it but heart break.

You thought yunho would be your refuge, your final home. But instead he was your destruction and his reason for it was absolutely pathetic.

You feel a tear roll down your cheek but you immediately hide it when you hear jungkook walk in.

‘’sorry, just wanted a pillow’’

You just hum.

He grabs his pillow and you feel his figure linger for a little longer as if debating on wanting to say something.

But you assume he decides against saying anything and just walks out.

Immediately he leaves you feel the tears roll down like rain.

Jungkook can hear your sniffles from the living room and god he wishes you never met yunho.

-

an:wellllll

[gravedangerahead]

Saldo de Medalhas 🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷

03 Medalhas de Ouro de Ouro

🥇Bia Souza no Judô 🥋

🥇 Rebeca Andrade Solo Ginástica Artística🤸🏿‍♀️

🥇Ana e Duda no Vôlei de Praia 🏖️🏐

07 Medalhas de Ouro de Prata

🥈Caio Bonfim | Marcha Atlética 🚶🏾‍♂️

🥈 Willian Lima | Judô | -66kg 🥋

🥈 Rebeca Andrade | Ginástica artística | Individual geral

🥈Rebeca Andrade | Ginástica artística | Salto

🥈Tatiana Weston-Webb | Surfe

🥈Isaquias Queiroz | Canoagem velocidade

🥈Time de Futebol feminino

10 Medalhas de Ouro de Bronze

🥉Larissa Pimenta | Judô | -52kg

🥉 Rayssa Leal | Skate Street

🥉Brasil | Ginástica Artística | Disputa por equipes - Rebeca Andrade, Flávia Saraiva, Jade Barbosa, Júlia Soares e Lorrane Oliveira

🥉Brasil | Judô | Equipes mistas - Beatriz Souza, Rafaela Silva, Larissa Pimenta, Ketleyn Quadros, Daniel Cargnin, Rafael Macedo, Léo Gonçalves, Guilherme Schimidt, Rafael Silva e Willian Lima

🥉Bia Ferreira | Boxe | 60kg

🥉Gabriel Medina | Surfe

🥉Augusto Akio | Skate Park

🥉Edival Pontes "Netinho" | Taekwondo | -68kg

🥉Alison dos Santos | Atletismo | 400m com barreiras

🥉Brasil | Vôlei feminino

50 Outras Medalhas de Ouro

🏅 Eliminar Pedófilo no vôlei de praia 🏖️🏐

🏅Espanha chorona fora do pódio ⚽

🏅Augusto Akio faz malabarismo com o skate na boca 🛹

🏅Peitando o Dream Team e não perdendo por 40 como eles disseram, só por 35

🏅Primeira final de Ginástica Rítmica e uma atleta se esforçando para nos representar mesmo lesionada

🏅Kamehameha no pódio a pedido do filhinho

🏅Nossa cerimônia de abertura melhor de longe e a organização em geral também

🏅A linha ainda é mais rápida! Recorde do tuiteiro César Cielo se mantém

🏅Tiny Desk do Milton Nascimento

🏅 Futura medalhista de ouro olímpica na ginástica artística Ana Luísa Claro

🏅Sem medalha pra Turquia no vôlei

🏅Todas as melhores fotos das olimpíadas

🏅Todas as melhores comemorações enquanto os gringos ganham ouro com cara de tacho

🏅Filiprimos e Taiprimos brigando por quem é nosso melhor amigo

🏅 Melhores memes

🏅Tocando parado no bailão e o amor tem sabor em baixo da torre Eiffel após o ouro no vôlei de praia

🏅Todos os ouros foram de mulheres e todos tiveram pelo menos uma mulher preta

🏅 Representatividade míope por parte das nossa mulheres de ouro fofíssimas, Bia Souza e Rebeca Andrade

🏅Bia amassando uma Israelense

🏅 Rebeca pensando em receitas antes de saltar

🏅 Estados Unidos sofrendo e tendo que lutar para ficar na frente no quadro de medalhas, sua hegemonia cairá

🏅A música das olimpíadas O Show Tem Que Continuar com mil edits incríveis

🏅Nossa atleta paralímpica de tênis de mesa estreando já nas olimpíadas

🏅 Cachorrão batendo recorde com tempo que teria sido ouro em Tóquio

🏅 Cachorrão nadando a maratona aquática de 10 km sem ser ser dessa categoria só porque estávamos sem representante

🏅 Cachorrão desistindo de nadar do esgoto que é o sena no meio da prova

🏅 Nenhum dos nossos atletas aquáticos pegou difteria, leptospirose, gonorréia, sífilis, intoxicação alimentar, escorbuto, ou qualquer coisa nadando no esgoto ou comendo comida podre

🏅Ana Sátila competindo o tempo todo e amando os memes

🏅O nosso atleta que MUDOU DE PERNA NO SALTO por conta de lesões e conseguiu fazer uma performance ótima começando quase do zero

🏅A nossa jogadora de handebol carregando a jogadora Angolana lesionada e causando crises de sexualidade ao redor do mundo

🏅Rayssa Leal mantando aula para ser amuleto da sorte 🧚🏾‍♀️

🏅Não passou ainda, mas nosso teaser do Rio no encerramento de Londres vai ser muito melhor que o teaser de Los Angeles no encerramento de Paris

🏅Pessoas escrevendo RPF da Rebeca com a Simone

🏅O chute da Marta na cabeça daquela lá

🏅 Rafaela Silva tendo a chance de lutar e ganhar a lura decisiva do bronze de equipes

🏅Bronze em equipes com um atleta lutando na categoria de peso acima da sua

🏅Flavinha servindo looks competindo depois de abrir a cabeça

🏅Jade modas acabando com a crise estética do país

🏅A nossa esgrimista competindo com um tumor

🏅O 10 (9.9) do Medina

🏅Gente do mundo inteiro falando que é lindo assistir brasileiros alegres, desde as ginastas até os medalhistas no pódio

🏅 Primeiro não asiático ou europeu a disputar medalha no tênis de mesa

🏅 Thaísa marcando o ponto do bronze e ganhando uma terceira medalha olímpica antes de se aposentar

🏅Marta encerrando suas últimas olimpíadas sorrindo e beijando a mulher dela, com uma seleção feminina mais jovem que provou que a categoria lela qual ela lutou a vida inteira tem futuro

🏅Todo vídeo maravilhoso da Rebeca dançando ou até CANTANDO com as medalhas e soltando as madeixas maravilhosas na celebração, e o vídeo da mini Rebeca feliz de treinar com a Daiane dos Santos sem saber que ia fazer a Daiane chorar um dia

🏅A nossa celebração do bronze por equipes na ginástica ofuscando a celebração do ouro das estadunidenses

🏅Rebeca se tornando a maior medalhista olímpica da história do Brasil

🏅Cunhar o termo Dopados Unidos

🏅A cadelinha surfista Cacau ganhou ouro no surfe para cachorros

🏅Miss Simpatia: ouro em carisma de todos os brasileiros

Com 70 ouros nós estamos em primeiro lugar no quadro de medalhas

🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷

Obrigada a todos pelo apoio ao Time Brasil!

Nos vemos no dia 28 para as Paraolimpíadas!

[mehidktbh]

Between You And Me (P.t 1)

Pairing: Simon Riley x Nurse!Fem!Reader

Summary: You're in a secret relationship with Ghost, no one knows but with that comes problems. When one guy starts to get the hint that you're single. He finds out the only way to get you all by himself is to slowly hide in the shadows waiting for the perfect time.

Warning: War, unwanted/nonconsensual , secret relationship, touching, ANGST, grinding, reader is groped, TW SH (SEXUAL HARASSMENT), swearing, injuries and bloody wounds

A/N: 11 Days since my last post. Sorry for my in and out absents, idk why I'm not as committed as I use to be. But here's the Simon Riley fic everyone voted on!! (Part 2) Taglist: @lauraliisa, @mxtokko, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @ghostshotwife420, @snortangeldust, @thychuvaluswife, @quesowakanda, @goodsoup03, @cielobgers, @andy-unu-03, @sididakra-jo, @nocti1s, @luvfromkat, @lily-ilo, @iwmtfm, @elentiyaiswriting, @berryjuicyy, @crazyfandomist, @aqxz, @yaaamadaa-blog, @itsquinoa, @tomhollandisabae, @wivwer, @old-red-owl, theverycelestialgemini, leopardfang15, @iwmtfm

The smell of foul metal floated around the room, and the suddenly rich, thick blood decorated your hands. The metal dish dinged sharply as you dropped the final piece of glass down. Finally, straightening your back upwards to now look out the closed wound. Which was a horrific scene before. Only know it's been wiped down with alcohol and sown up with a neat row of stitches.

"All done." You happily said, relieved that you could now open a window when this guy left. The blood smell was getting to you. So gradually and carefully you began picking up your equipment, putting all the soaked bloody cotton balls on the metal dish. But you suddenly stoped when the sensation of a cold hand came out to grab you.

"Sorry, sweets. Just need a bit of help getting to the door" He smiled 'innocently' but you nodded in return. Ignoring and swallowing the sudden gut rench feeling you got as you let him grab hold of your whole arm. His fingers traced up and down your skin, as he gripped on tight, you kept silent as much as you wanted to scream and you quickly lead him to the door.

The sound of the door creaking open echoed through the barracks, mixing in with the sound of talking from down the hallway. You quickly smiled before beginning to turn away, only to be grabbed again. Fucking hell- "Thanks toots for the patch up" Smiling you said nothing in return, only trying to avert your gaze from his lustful eyes. His mouth practically breathed down your neck as you slowly pulled out of his reach. Finally shutting the door.

And you thought that was it... but you were wrong.

It started out as little there to their moments where he'd pop out of nowhere right as you were alone. When you were on break, signing off papers in your office, watching TV or simply going to the bathroom. You'd leave the room to smell his thick foul and unpleasant cologne reeking into your nose, his slipped-back hair as he lazily leaned on the wall. Complimenting you from your skin to your body.

And not to mention that one time he 'accidentally' touched your butt...

♡ ♡ ♡

You quietly hummed out a quiet tune, your eyes watching in awe every time as the coffee machine worked like magic. The particularly strong and good coffee slipped out from the machine nozzle, filling up the two cups only reserved for you and Simon.

His cup was white and plain, nothing that would tell anyone else that it could be their cup only the white insides of the cup were stained with the brown liquid. The stains that told everyone whoever was drinking from this cup liked it strong and black, no sugar or milk.

Only your cup was always lined up against the cabinet, side to side they weren't separated. Even in the dishwasher, they never threatened to separate. The seemingly bland white cup was always next to the paw-printed ceramic mug, dots of dog paws was something that showed everyone it was yours.

"For me?" You turned around suddenly, expecting to see Ghost already waiting to grab his cup even though you told him you'd get it for him. Only it was the same guy who'd been bugging you since day one. "No, it's for Ghost." You stood your ground, turning around as you showed no interest in him being there.

The sound of his footsteps crept closer behind you, the deliberately terrifying thumps of his boots made every hair on your body stand up. He reached higher to swing open the mug cabinet above you, purposely grinding the front of his pants against your butt.

The sudden movement shook you to your core as you quickly pulled away from the machine. Stopping the waterfall of coffee pouring earlier as you quickly took both mugs in your hands. Ignoring the burning sensation and forgetting to put your milk and sugar in.

♡ ♡ ♡

Ghost caught onto fast to your sudden nervousness fast. When you returned with his coffee in a rush, nearly tripping over as you made it to his desk. He was surprised to see how red beating your hands were, the imprint of your mistake lead him to wonder what made you run so fast. Though the whole time you said nothing, lying about how you forgot you had a meeting soon. Excusing yourself before leaving early too, Ghost stood there with a mug that only grew cold.

Not only that but after dark, he'd secretly sneak into your office to get close and hold hands under the only light you flicked on as he whispered sweet praises into your ear. Before you were constantly complaining about happening to leave early (it was midnight) as Simon ushered you out.

Now you hold onto his warm figure, his huge arms cage you into his embrace harder as you struggle to say goodbye. By the end of the night, he'd be the one to escort you back to your room, all the way until he made sure you were locked and safe. No matter how many times his rough accent softly demanded you tell him what was bothering you, you didn't say anything.

♡ ♡ ♡

"I'll be fine" You shush him, your finger coming up to sew his lips shut as he quietly chuckled. He stood tall and relaxed, the only time today when he can truly let go of his tense muscles. Your soft touch brings him back to the present as you press a quick final goodnight kiss to his cheek. Giggling when the heat instantly rose to his face, his lovesick eyes never wanted to leave you but sadly he watched you turn away.

You seemed to quicken your paste when you shut the door, as much as you reassured Simon you were okay you weren't. Feeling like you were being watched it was past midnight and the barracks fell deathly silent. Not a whisper of someone talking or the sound of someone snoring on the couch as an ad played. Only your footsteps quickened down the hall, twisting around every corner the sound of swift heavy boots followed quickly behind.

[askagamedev]

Vertical Slice Breakdown - Dragon Age Veilguard

It's been a few days since the Dragon Age Veilguard gameplay video was released. I posted a challenge for aspiring developers to identify as many specific features and systems as they could spot. My expertise is in gameplay, so that's where I will be focusing. Expertise on visuals like lighting, rendering, shaders, etc. should be directed elsewhere.

0:22 - In-Game Cinematic with moving cameras 0:30 - Seamless cinematic transfer to gameplay, quest tracking UI element, different walking speeds 0:36 - Interactable element with UI 0:43 - Camera movement - orbital motion, but likely not detachable 0:53 - Party member movement, including waiting for the player as part of an escort sequence 2:08 - Uninteractable NPC actors perform animations 2:13 - Scriptable terrain changes/destruction 2:18 - Scriptable interactions with multiple actors 2:29 - Uninterrupted conversations when transitioning from gameplay to in-game cinematic 2:39 - Context-specific traversal method with special traversal animation (balancing across a thin beam) 2:50 - Small sequence that is likely unloading the last area and loading in data for the next environment. Likely also locks players off from returning to the previous area. 3:22 - Conversation wheel with "personality" icons and paraphrased words 3:39 - Dynamic inventory in game cinematics, show player's items 3:46 - Scripted Player equipment change during cinematic 4:04 - Quest variables (e.g. player background) result in different NPC response 4:27 - Combat UI including current target (four red dots), Combat log 4:30 - Player can jump 4:33 - UI Melee danger indicator for incoming attacks - silver for enemy attacking, gold for shortly impending damage 4:35 - Player can dash/dodge 4:39 - Event log - Items/Loot notification 4:42 - Shooting UI including hit/miss indicator (red reticle), time scaling, arrow charging (rounded purple bar above arrow count), arrow refill cooldown 5:03 - Some kind of special charge/jumping attack 5:09 - XP gain UI, Quest objective completion UI, Quest objective map indicator UI 5:12 - Auto sheath weapons 5:15 - Potion use/Health recovery 5:18 - Recover potions from the environment 5:40 - Quest objective indicator change on approach 5:49 - Ranged attack danger indicator 5:51 - Defensive action (player reflects damage back on ranged attacker) 6:06 - Enemies can be knocked off edges when fatal 6:10 - Destructible objects in combat, can be scripted 6:16 - Some kind of "special" dodge skill with VFX, likely a rogue class skill 6:51 - Second context-specific traversal method (sliding down a slope) also likely a second "can't go back" type of lockoff 7:01 - Action/Command UI (party/self ability commands) 7:06 - Specific skill used, skill cooldown, enemy debuffed + UI (weakened), resource used (purple bar at bottom of screen) 7:07 - Quick use button mapping, likely for controller face buttons 7:09 - Resource bar refills on its own and on attack damage 10:47 - Different kinds of health bars (likely magical shield and armor) 11:59 - Boss UI with both magical shield and armor bars. Not sure what the number 4 there indicates 12:15 - Telegraphed danger zones projected onto the floor 12:22 - Quick recover timing event 14:45 - Conversation option for branching cinematic 14:51 - Follower approval UI event log 18:49 - Destructible object with health bar and UI highlighting

Each of these elements is something that would need to be designed and implemented by someone on the gameplay team working with UI, engineering, and art. See anything I missed? Which did you get?

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Got a burning question you want answered?

Short questions: Ask a Game Dev on Twitter

Long questions: Ask a Game Dev on Tumblr

Frequent Questions: The FAQ

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Sympathy for Breakfast

(Part 1)

—

Time Written - 9:03 p.m

(Completely unrelated photo it’s just funny to me, also just a silly part 2 for no reason. SFW silly, he stands like this for a majority of this Drabble)

—

The early rays of morning sun sent an irritating glare of bright light through his mask when he feels a faint rumble, making him instinctively reach for his phone.

You coming home soon?

I have a surprise :)

Love you <3

Jason smiles at the screen, feeling glad that his girl woke up on the good side of the bed. However, he checked the time, slowly growing concerned as to why you were up so early.

The diner the both of you adored on weekends and midnights wasn’t even open yet.

A handful of thoughts course through his tired brain. Some of them concerning, some of them far from appropriate.

“Good morning, Mister Hood.” You smile from your position on the ground as he shuffled himself through the front door, carrying double bagged to-go boxes in hand.

The only comfort he had at this moment, besides the fragrant hot coffee inside the machine pot, was seeing your smiling, well rested expression. Your hair was styled to keep out of your way as your main focus, the ‘surprise’, was the project the two of you had been putting off on for a while.

“Babe, what’re you doing?”

You sat criss cross on the living room floor in front of an ash gray, large convertible crib, newly put together by yourself alone.

“Built the crib! Isn’t it pretty?” You extend your hands out towards the sight, the crib equipped with every detail perfectly in place. All you had to do left was add in the bedding onto the new mattress for your son, and it’s fully finished.

A very special bed for a very special boy, already loved before he’s even born.

“The box weighed a ton.” Was Jason’s first statement as he eyed the empty box and scattered foam borders. He sets his helmet and breakfast on the dining room table, approaching the messy living room.

“It wasn’t heavy,” you quickly state, gesturing your head over towards the corner of the living room, where the box had sat behind the couch for a good three months.

“It was super easy too! What do you think?” You immediately ask, not liking how he was too concerned for everything but the surprise.

Their was a cute, eager glimmer in your eyes as you stared up at him, like a little girl showing off her extravagant art piece. Right there, he understood why you had lately become quite OCD with all the baby’s essentials.

Sorting out all the supplies, washing all the clothes, ordering a new baby blanket set because it didn’t arrive in the shade of teal blue you wanted.

Nesting. You were nesting.

Cute.

“It’s nice,” Jason says, tilting his head as he examines the large crib. How the hell his eight month pregnant sweetheart built this heavy crib all on your own was a full body shiver he tried very, very hard to refrain expressing.

“Yeah, very nice. How’s it, uh… how’s it gonna fit through the door?”

“What?” Your smile slowly drops. “Huh?”

“I mean, it’s pretty wide?” Jason peeks over towards their semi open bedroom door. “I don’t think the crib will fit through…”

You go quiet, looking over at the crib you were proud of merely seconds ago.

“Huh??”

You express once more, noticing this large, extravagantly built crib, with bottom drawers prepared to pack in freshly washed baby clothes, would be a little too wide to push through the bedroom door. Especially with the bed in the way.

“But this took … this took forever!” Your voice held that tremble that Jason suspected would come, making him playfully pout.

“Awww, Princess.” He tried so hard to hold back a smile or laugh, quickly failing behind his gloved palm.

“Don’t laugh!” You yell up at him. “I was so proud of myself! This was the one time we buy something from IKEA, and I didn’t have to second guess the instructions a hundred times! Now you’re saying it won’t fit through the door!”

Cause it won’t. Jason wasn’t cruel enough to voice it, simply gazing down at his love, who hid her face from his view, still perched in the center of empty screw bags, power tools, and ever so finicky foam beads.

As tired as he was from patrol, this topped the cake of interesting things to happen yet.

He wasn’t delighted to see you cry aggravated tears from this daunting realization you completely missed, but the outcome of your hard work at such an early hour… only to be stumped, it’s funny. Jason can’t help that.

His shoulders bounced with his light laughter, settling down in front of his woman, who had exhausted hands covering that pretty face from him.

“S’okay Princess. Crib looks gorgeous, an’ you still possess all fingers and toes. Proud of you, but no more heavy lifting. Alright?”

His soft praise and gentle warning fell on acknowledging ears, but responded to with shameful silence. Jason couldn’t help that you were a little impatient with exciting tasks, he wouldn’t ask you to change that.

It’s like asking him to stop his horrible, eye rolling humor. Or twisted, cruelly timed jokes. It’s impossible.

He softly shushes you, kissing the top of your forehead. His eyes glance back to the crib, overall impressed at how you put it all together so well by yourself.

At the start of living in your own apartment, the both of you took many IKEA dates. Each night ended up in some form of aggravated frustration over a piece of furniture placed wrong, or the irritation of an extra screw from a missing slot once the entire piece was already finished.

“You take your vitamins?” Jason prompts, watching your head slowly shake no, still sniffling behind your hands.

You were too fixated on building the crib and getting everything together, you forgot the key component of a successful pregnancy; to worry about your own health. The biggest of priorities.

Yep. Nesting.

“We’ll eat, take your vitamins, an’ have our food comas. No worries ‘bout the crib mama, I’ll take care of it.”

Jason’s soothing voice was almost enough to settle your nerves, or the mention of food actually.

“Did you go to Benny’s?”

“Mhm. Got your favorite.”

“Can you help me up?” You reluctantly ask, giving him those pink flushed puppy eyes that he couldn’t go against.

“Whatever the lady wants.”

Tired muscles slip underneath your arms, cradling your sides as he helps you up off the ground. Your swollen belly nudges against his abdomen, making his heart melt. He wondered if your manic rush of dopamine woke up his boy, softly smirking at the idea of you chastising your relentlessly kicking son whilst building his future bed.

“Baby boy missed you, by the way.” You say, as if you just read his mind.

God, kill him already. His twice beating heart can’t take much more of this.

“He just wants food,” Jason chides before stepping to the side, letting you slowly waddle to the kitchen.

“We’re all on the same boat, Papa.”

God, please scratch that last thought. He’s in heaven.

Jason’s exhaustion didn’t stop him from nudging you towards your seat, taking the empty mugs from your hands to fill them with Colombian roast.

He wasn’t just being courteous; he was making sure you didn’t have too much caffeine, diluting the majority of your cup with your preferred milk.

After taking those vitamins you needed, Jason finally allowed himself to sit down and rest, too lazy to pull off anything other than his tactical belt and leather jacket.

He watches the love of his life through hooded eyes open your plate, your expression brightening as if you didn’t just sob over the crib mishap. Something he most definitely wasn’t going to mention at a manor dinner about three years from now.

Fluffy blueberry pancakes, piled with fresh fruit and savory sausage on the side. Honey cinnamon butter, and extra syrup. All topped with chocolate chips.

Beside it, an egg white spinach, cheesy omelette. With vegan cheese, for some odd reason. Suddenly, you had as much distain to cheddar and mozzarella, possibly most dairy, as you did to egg yolks in your omelettes.

This was your breakfast, The only meal out of your three meals a day that wasn’t invaded by a strange concoction of spicy pickles or vinegar based hot sauce. Or any other horrible last minute choices.

Something tells Jason that he’s going to see cake eaten for breakfast after the birth for a good while. Not like he’s going to complain, honestly.

Whatever he can do to combat the birthing blues, but that’s a concern for the future.

“Babe.”

“Hm?” You glance up from your plate before you dug in, seeing that same gentle smirk he carried on his face for the past four minutes.

“I was kidding, by the way.” His smile slowly grew the quicker it sets in, expecting to get pummeled by fruit after this;

“The crib will fit through the door.”

[genshin-impact-updates]

"Outside the Canvas, Inside the Lens: Dew-Kissed Chapter" Event: A Photographic Journey in Search of Inspiration

〓Event Duration〓

2024/07/29 10:00:00 – 2024/08/08 03:59:59

〓Event Rewards〓

〓Eligibility〓

Adventure Rank 20 or above

And complete Archon Quest Prologue: Act III "Song of the Dragon and Freedom"

〓Event Details〓

● After the event begins, 2 new photo-taking spots will be unlocked every day for the first 7 days. There are a total of 14 photo-taking spots.

● You must equip Asagiri's Dedicated Fontaine Kamera and interact with the photo-taking point(s) to enter Photo-Taking Mode.

● In the Photo-Taking Mode, you can use the Settings button in the upper left corner to activate or deactivate Interval Timer Photography Mode and adjust the interval time.

● If you wish to adjust your Kamera Settings again, you can tap Pause Challenge and return to your preset, thus starting the setting adjustment process over again. Once you have finished taking a photo, if you wish to continue taking pictures using the current settings, you can tap Keep Taking Photos to return to the photo-taking phase.

● During the event, you can claim rewards the first time you complete the corresponding photo-taking objectives at each photo-taking spot.

※ Recorded photos will not be stored in Photo Notes. You can save your favorite photos in your current personal devices by clicking on the larger image to save it.

[lucettapanchetta]

[OUTGOING REQUEST] COMMUNICATION MANIFEST SOURCE NODE TRACE: FP ROOT, SRS COMM09, NSH COMM02 [ sorry for the... delay. ] [ ongoing interfere... communications system. ] [ im scared. ] [ help ] MESSAGE CONTENTS: --- [[Re: [LIVE BROADCAST] EQUIPMENT MANIFEST]] [[ WIDE SWEEP DIAGNOSTIC RESULTS ]] ] Water: 55% Hydrocarbons: 130% Sulfur: 1640% Silicon: 410% Phosphates: 25% Other: 1800% --- TRACE FOREIGN ENTITIES DETECTED. INPSECTORS NOTIFIED. SEVERE CHEMICAL IMBALANCE. REQUEST CONDUIT PURGATION IMMEDIATELY. EXTERIOR BREACH DETECTED NEAR PRECIPICE. STAGE 3 HULL BREACH. PLEASE MIGRATE ENERGY INTO REPAIR. --- [ [!! WARNING !!] Biomechanical degradation detected in CONDUITS: 02, 03, 06, 08, 12, 17, 18, 25, 26, 27.] ] [!! WARNING !!] Water leakage detected in CONDUITS: 06, 12, 26.] [-RAPID OXIDATION EVENT IN CONDUIT_03, RL_SYS_ARRAYS, RANDOM_CACHE_SYS-] [-POTENTIAL HYDROGEN LEVELS LOW IN CONDUIT_03, CONDUIT_12, CONDUIT_18-]

[ Foreign contaminants detected within the west hull. Inspectors notified to conduct biopsy of contaminant. ]

[ Mass clogging detected. Emergency fluid administered; dissolution fluid may erode tubular plating. Temperature should be heavily monitored to prevent warping. ] [ Dissolution fluid is a preventative regulation only. NEUTRALIZING SOLUTION IS REQUIRED. ]

[ Rarefraction activity will be immediately scheduled for affected nodes. However, quantities of foreign run-off may result in dangerous pressure changes. ] [ Power saving should be reconsidered to allow restoration of nodes. Heavy processing required. ]

[ Rapid nodular restoration is a preventative regulation only. EMERGENCY MAINTENANCE IS REQUIRED. ]

[https-lvesick]

[ 03 ] thanks spiderman, the useless partner ever!

[summary] toronto has never been so chaotic, but things are working out since the spiders appeared to save the citizens. spiderman and silk are the city's biggest saviours and they count on them to keep them safe, even the police. but, aside from their big responsibilities, they’re just teenagers, trying to be themselves and keep their grades good, trying to have a social life and maybe a love life as successful as their superhero life. but… what’s easier to tell? that you have a crush on your best friend or that you’re a mutant superhero?

[ ♡ ] there are written portions with 1294 words!

[content] canon violence (i tried my best), mentions of injuries and blood

it was nearly midnight and you were on top of a building, waiting for your partner. you knew spiderman was a little clumsy and, definitely, couldn't get on time, but this was getting out of control. it was the fifth time in the week and you couldn't even make it to wednesday yet.

maybe some of the men in your life weren't the reliable type. first mark, now spiderman. perhaps you should just quit and let them do things by themselves.

"where are you?" you mumble to yourself, checking the time on the gadget on your suit.

suddenly, you hear a loud noise and the other spider is there, right beside you. you couldn't see his expressions because of his mask fully covering his face, but he could see yours and he could tell you were beyond annoyed.

"i'm sorry, i got caught up with something." he reasoned, embarrassed.

"yeah, you said that the other... twenty times before. how can i even count on you if you act this way? seriously, like why are you all the same?" you blurt out, making the hero raise his hands.

"'you all'?" the spiderman asks, confused.

"men. you better make it on time the next time, or else, you can forget we're partners." you say, before jumping off the building, swinging on your webs.

the boy scratches his nape. he knows better than to make silk angry, but what to do? he got entertained texting giselle, it was not like it was his fault (it totally was). he sighs before following you.

watching the news, which was showing another angle of what was happening, you notice something different in that gang. their weapons, it wasn't the usual pistols and rifles, they were somehow bigger and would, probably, cause even more damage.

again, you were waiting for the spiderman, but you couldn't wait anymore. the police were preparing to enter the jewellery store and you couldn't let that happen, not when they'd fight against that equipment.

apparently, there were no hostages, only the criminals inside the building and the police outside, but there were citizens around.

"silk, do you have any plan?" one of the police officers asks you when you jump in front of them.

"not really, but tell your people to stay away for now. lemme do it." you ask, making your way to the jewellery store.

"but you're alone. where's the spiderman?" he asks concerned.

"busy with... other things." the sentence sounds way bitter than you anticipated. "i'm telling you to let me do it. did you see what they have? those weapons are far from normal and you can't compete with that. i'll handle it and when i need your people, i'm calling you." he nods and orders the others through the walkie-talkie.

you make your way inside the building in the most silent manner possible. "nings, can you see?" you ask the girl through your ear-in.

"yes. the problem is... they're turning everything off, you need to be quick." she warns.

"fine, just tell me where they are and if you can see how their weapons are to maybe search it up..."

"i'm already doing it and uh... they're in five. two of them are in the main room, plundering, and the other two are making sure there is no one there to interrupt them, on the second floor." she says and could hear the typing sounds of her keyboard, probably searching up the weapons.

"and the last one? weren't they in five?" you whisper, entering the main room, climbing the ceiling, watching two of the criminals.

"the last one is waiting for them in their van, apparently. well, that's what the idiots on the second floor are discussing about." she sighs.

you remain on the ceiling, studying the options. "tell me, nings, are the others distracted?" you ask, watching the two men beneath you too focused on getting the most valuable items possible.

"i guess..." she says, noticing another two cameras being turned off. "but they are quick, so you need to be quicker."

"right..."

you shoot two webs on both men's faces, blinding them for a moment, so you can jump and kick them. the first thing you did was disarm them, so they could have no chance. they tried to fight back, but the first one got a punch in his face and the second, a kick on his stomach, making him fall on top of the glass showcase, shattering into pieces.

"y/n, are you fine? i can't see much." ningning asks, concerned.

"totally fine." that's when you hear a power load. thanks to your spider senses, you dodged it, but you were worried about getting shot. the big hole in the wall told too much.

you glued the two criminals that were knocked out on the floor and started the fight with the other two. the bigger one was trying to shoot you with a pistol, while the other tried to close combat. you shot some webs to his face to blind him for a while and take care of the one who was trying to literally kill you.

"what the... fuck?" you notice something weird in that pistol. it wasn't shooting bullets, it was shooting some kind of... needle?

"what?" at this point ningning was eating up her whole hand. it was new to her not to watch your every move. she made a mental note to add a camera on your suit later.

"it's shooting needles!" you see the sadist smile on the criminal's face and that just boosts your ego.

you dodge his every shot and finally reach him, punching the man so hard you break his nose and he passes out. you make sure to glue him to the floor too.

"hey, silk!" you hear a calling and turn around, but you're not too fast to dodge this shot.

the load that hits you is so strong that makes you fly and hit your back to the wall, almost losing your consciousness. and the man wasn't prepared to use that kind of weapon, since it was too much even for him.

"y/n!" hearing the loud noise, ningning feels her heart racing even more.

"tell the police to enter." you say, weak and she complies immediately.

you stand up, legs wobbling, and take a good look at the weapons. you also take a needle to know what kind of material is there. you see the police officers coming and one of them comes to you.

"i'm fine, don't worry. just get these weapons to a secure place and tell detective kevin moon about it, he'll know what to do." you instruct him and he nods. you could feel your mouth dry, you looked at your stomach and you could see not only blood staining most of your suit, but also a hole in it, showing your skin.

as soon as that is explained, you get out of there quickly.

"y/n, you need to tell me if you're fine. i can't let you swing around the city if you're seriously injured." she says in a stern voice.

"i'm fine, nings. imma call you when i get home." you say and turn off the call. you felt weak and dizzy, but still, you walked out of the building, having to face those people. the citizens, the reporters and more police officers. the camera flashes were blinding you, making your head hurt even more. you tried your best to remain on your feet, but you knew you couldn't. that's when you try to swing. you shoot a web to the top of a building to get out of the people's attention, but you can't go too far.

you just fall there, weak, and close your eyes, passing out.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❪ previous ‹ main › next ❫

[author's note] things are getting complicated here huh and ning's right FUCK U SPIDERMAN the less reliable partner ever bruh also it wasn't proofread, imma do it later, so if u notice any typos or inaccuracies im sorry 😭😭

[taglist] @winwintea @lucuslavigne @cheolcam @dreamwithlost @spiderm444rk @byeonwooseokabs @nosungluv @docilismo @chenlesfavorite @nanaxwi @superbbananananana @cosmic-marauder @xyzsiissnnsnsjs @joyzluvr @yewshi @morkiee

[bizkitsnuggets]

03 — ALIEN EXTRATERRESTRIAL T-SHIRT

m.list — 400 wc

────────────────────────────────

The brunet easily made his way backstage since the crowd had gone home. As he unbotheredly stepped on cables and other important equipment, he heard someone call out to him.

“Yo! Alien freak! Quit stepping on my cables, dammit!” Makki scolded him as he got closer. “What did I tell you about calling me that in public!?” Tooru furrowed his eyebrows as his cheeks flared. Makki just chuckled in response, motioning for Tooru to follow him.

They arrived where everyone was. Some staff members were present, and the owner of the diner was chatting up with Keiji. The atmosphere there was super lively, mainly because Tanaka and Bokuto couldn’t stop complimenting the band. Makki led the brunet to a sitting area where their bassist, drummer, and keyboardist were sitting.

“Hey guys! Oh, YN— there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” The candy-colored vocalist gestured to his friends to introduce themselves. YN extended her hand first, “YN, bassist.” She wore an innocent smile. Everything around the brunet blurred into a jumble of colors as he gawked at YN a little longer than he should've.

He shifted his gaze to her hand, her fingertips were visibly calloused. A few bandages here and there, with the addition of dried up scars. It was clear she had been playing bass for a long time. Tooru reached out his hand and felt the warmth of her body transfer to his.

Tooru charmingly nodded at her, “So, do you believe in love at first riff? Because you’ve got me hooked.” He playfully flirted with her, which received a groan from Kyotani who was beside Iwaizumi.

YN’s expression turned from surprise to confusion. “Uh… hm, no…?” The bassist murmured in response. But before Tooru could spout a witty retort, she pointed at him. “Hey… wait… are you wearing the alien extraterrestrial t-shirt under that?” The brunette looked down at where she was pointing and, sure enough, he was wearing his favorite alien extraterrestrial t-shirt under his halfway unzipped leather jacket.

The colors on his face drained in an instant, he should’ve remembered to zip it all the way up.

“W…what! No, it’s not even—” Tooru tried playing cool for the sake of his ego, but before he could even finish his denial, Iwaizumi cut him off and asked why he would wear such a thing outside. Makki let out the most horrendous guffaw, making everyone turn to him. “Jeez! Alien freak, you should see your face!”

Tooru’s eye twitched behind his glasses, this was too much for him and his delicate self-esteem. He’s fully aware it was his fault for wearing the shirt in the first place and forgetting to zip his jacket until his collar.

Despite that, he’s blaming this humiliating experience all on YN. He swears to himself that he will never ever see or speak to YN again. He simply couldn’t, not after this.

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notes:

yn was like “what the hell is love at first riff”

tooru went home after that

so sorry for any mistakes!

taglist: @this-is-me-lolol @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @kettlepop @causenessus @neeksnicoboytoy @does-directions @rinheartshyunlix