#how to free up memory on windows 10

[fixmycomputer]

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[mooooonnnzz]

World/Insured Part 3

Stanford Pines x Sibling!Reader/Stanley Pines x Sibling!Reader

☆ hope you guys r liking it so far!! :p

☆ 4,4k words

✶ “Can we talk about [Name]?” Ford suddenly brings up one day. The waves of tourists have been moderately slow for the day, allowing Stan and Ford to kick back and relax for once. And in the midst of sitting down on the couch, his mind dwelled over to the thought of you. Stan let out a long sigh as he sat down, pitt cola in hand. Stan was trying to break free from his alcohol addiction, Ford noted. “Sure, what do you want to talk about?” The causality held in Stan’s words made Ford uneasy. He was so unnaturally calm with his words, at least the last time he brought you up, he can sense the agitation in his words, but he couldn’t find any dripping anger from him now. Mustering up all the courage he had left, he asked; “How were they?” He felt his mouth run dry. Out of everything he could’ve asked, he asked that? All the questions he had were out the window and off into the woods, leaving him scrambling for words. Taking a sip from his soda, he said, “Do you want to know how they felt immediately after they left with me?” Ford nods. “Well, being fifteen and a rage of hormones, they pretty much hated you.” Stan’s eyes glance over to Ford whose face could visibly read hurt. “I’m just kidding!” Stan cackled, shoving Ford. “They were ripped apart. I remember they told me how they felt everything and nothing at the same time, real poetic than one.” He takes another sip. “They missed you so much while I hated your guts. I couldn’t think of you without seeing red and they couldn’t think of you without crying.” He swirled the drink in the can, looking down to his shuffling feet. “What did you guys do to survive?” 

✶ “I enrolled them into a high school. I didn’t want them to be stupid like me, ya know? And while they were in highschool, I started my business which earned us money to get by.” Stan told him. “Would you even call what you did a business?” Ford said with his eyebrow raised. “Hey!” Stan rolled his eyes, placing the can of soda down on the floor. “Once we got banned from a few states, [Name] put their foot down and encouraged me to get a job. And guess what, I landed a pretty good job! My history of stealing peoples money was long gone, until now,” Stan quietly said the last part. “And we were living pretty comfortably. I got us a nice house, a good car and [Name] graduated highschool and they got a job as manager of some sort, can’t really remember.” Stan scratched his chin idly. “They were on their way to move out and take their business elsewhere when you decided to show your face.” Stan cleared his throat, looking at Ford. “They talked about you a lot.” He softly added. “I saw how they lit up when they saw me for the first time. They looked so much older.” Ford said. “I mean, yeah, that’s what happens when you miss, like, 10 years of their life.” Ford ignored Stan’s comments and mulled over his thoughts. After a moment, he spoke up. “Thank you for talking about them, Stan.” Stan shot him a smile. “Of course, talking about them wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.” Since then, Stan would share stories of you whenever Ford asked, ranging from embarrassing ones, to one’s where it was a little harder for Stan to tell. But in the end, it brought them closer together and kept the memory of you alive. 

✶ Much to Ford’s dismay, the whole shack was rearranged to be a tourist trap. By day, they were busy ripping people of their money and by night, they buried themselves in their work, fixing what they could while simultaneously searching for the second book. And before they knew it, they were in their late 50’s. Adjusting his fez, he smiles at himself through the mirror. “Stan!” Ford bursts through his room, starling Stan. “Geez, Ford! A little warning next time?” Ford stammers over to him. “No time for that!” He huffs out. “The book! I-I can’t find it!” Stan’s face falls. “What?! What happened to it?” Ford opened his mouth to answer when Soos yelled out; “Mr. Pines!” Stan curses to himself, that must be the kids. “Do you have any idea where it could be?” Stan asks. Out of all the days something could’ve gone wrong, why today? “I think maybe the gnomes took it?” Stan was ready to scream again when Soos called for them again. “I want you to go and look for the book.” Stan insisted, pointing a finger at him. “I’m not coming with you to get Dipper and Mabel?” Ford gasped out, his hand slapping on his chest. “No! Because you lost the book!” Stan pointed an accusatory finger at him. “I lost the book? It was probably a gnome who took it!” Ford defended. “How are you so sure that a gnome even took it?” Ford scratched the back of his neck nervously. “They may or may not have knocked me out just a few moments ago.” Stan was so ready to deck him in the face when Soos came into the room. “Mr. Pines!” He pointed outside. “The kids are here!” “We know that, Soos.” The twins spat out. “But there’s this wolf mailman dude, and I really don’t trust him and he’s probably like eating the kids right now at the bus stop!” Soos rambled out. While Stan carried an unimpressed face, Ford’s face twisted to one of horror. “We need to pick them up now!” Unfortunately for Stan, both Soos and Ford have a rising suspicion that the mailman is a wolf in a human disguise. But the man was just hairy! Ford pulled Stan along and got inside his car. Starting up the car, Stan let out an exhausted sigh. “How did puny little gnomes knock you out?” He asked, backing out of his parking spot and onto the road. “I was busy reading when they knocked me out cold! I don’t think they intended to steal the journal, when I was waking back up they realized and grabbed the nearest object possible and ran out of there.” Stan sighed, tapping his finger on the wheel. “I really can’t believe you sometimes.” He mutters. “It wasn’t my fault, Stanley!” 

✶ Coming to a complete stop, Ford rolled down the windows, a large smile on his face when his eyes landed on his favorite great nieces. “Grunkle Ford!” They cheer, equally large smiles on their faces. “Hey, hey!” Stan watched as they stumbled into the car with their bulky backpacks skidding against the roof. “Where’s my love?” Stan exclaimed. “Right here, Grunkle Stan.” Mable giggled, wrapping her arms around Stan’s neck and nuzzling her face into his shoulder. “That’s more like it,” Stan grinned, gingerly patting her back. “Now where’s the sweaty one? I’m missing one!” Dipper sighed, a playful roll to his eyes. “I’m right here,” Mable pulled away from Stan and swiftly latched herself to Ford. “C’mon, give your old grunkle some sugar.” Dipper cringed. “Don’t ever say that again, Grunke Stan.” He said, hugging Stan. “I say what I want, kid! We live in a free country for a reason.” The drive home was full of conversation, the twins telling their grunkle’s stories from school and their home life. Stan and Ford made the conscious effort to comment and react to everything they said, if not Mable would make sure they did by repeating what they said over and over again. When the Mystery Shack came into view, they both shoved their face against the window, marveling at the shack. “Is this what Grunkle Stan is always talking about when we call him?” Mable’s hot breath fogged up the window. “Yup. And now you guys get to see it.” Ford gestured to the shack, smiling proudly. He had soon come to love the shack he and Stan worked on, he will never admit that out loud though. Parking in his usual spot, he turns to the kids. “Get yourself settled in, alright?” They wasted no time jumping out of the car and scampering off into the shack. “And don’t touch anything!” A jar crashing onto the floor was heard in the distance. “They don’t listen, do they?” Stan shook his head. “Alright, poindexter, what are we going to do about the book?” He started, looking at Ford who pulled at his turtle neck anxiously. “We have to wait till tonight to look for it.” Tonight came and they were too wrapped up with the twins that they couldn’t go out and search for the third book. Their schedules became so busy that a week had passed and they still were waiting to find an empty slot in their schedules to find the book but it never came.

✶ “Grunkles! Grunkles!” Mable came running at them at full speed. “Woah there, kiddo!” Ford swooped Mable up from the floor. “You almost bumped into me.” He laughed, putting her back down on the ground. “That was the plan.” She giggled. “But I have something to ask!” She shoved her hand inside the pocket of her skirt. She pulled out a photo, a very specific photo that Stan had kept in his room. She pointed at the person in the middle. “Who is this?” She asks. “Mable!” Dipper rushed to the living room. Bending over, he hoisted himself up by propping his arms on his knees. He wheezed out, his eyes locking onto the tense scene in front of him. “Did she already ask about the photo?” Silence was his response. Breaking out of his trance, Stan swiped the photo out of Mable’s hands. “Where did you find this?” Stan’s eyes flickered between the photo and Mable. “In your room.” A flash of emotions went through Stan’s face. Why was Mable in his room? Why did she pick this photo out of all the things in his room? He spiraled. He wasn’t expecting to speak of you to someone who had no idea of your existence. Stan’s heart crumpled into a pathetic ball. The twins had never met you. Ford took notice of Stan’s unnaturally quiet nature.  “Kids, why don’t you go to your rooms?” Ford said, kneeling down to their height. “But why?” Mable whined, pouting. “Because we need to decide if we are ready to tell you, okay?” Ford gave a knowing look to Dipper who understood that this wasn’t an easy topic. Dipper told something to Mable and with a worried look, she dejectedly followed him up to their room. “Stan?” He looks over to Stan who was shakily pulling out a packet of cigarettes. “I thought you quit, Stanley?” Ford watched sadly as he walked inside the kitchen and searched for a lighter, when he did he pocketed it and walked back out. “It’s either I drink or I smoke.” Stan said, heading towards the porch. Ford followed after him, shutting the door behind him. “You want one?” Stan offered the pack and he debated for a moment before denying his request. Stan brought the cigar to his lips. He cupped his hand around the cigar as he lit it up with his lighter. Taking a deep drag of the smoke, he allowed himself to relax, welcoming the familiar feeling of the smoke filling his lungs. “We don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to.” Ford spoke, watching the puff of gray smog lighty cover his vision momentarily. “I don’t think we have a choice here.” Stan takes another long drag from the cigarette. “We can tell them we’re not ready yet.” Ford reasons. “I think it’s time they should know about [Name].” Stan stares at the late afternoon sky. “It was just all so sudden and I didn’t know how to react. It all went downhill from there.” Stan twiddled his cigarette between his fingers. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Stanley. I know how you feel.” A comfortable silence blanketed the both of them warmly. “Do you ever wonder what [Name] would think about the twins?” Ford breaks the silence, glancing at Stan from the corner of his eye. Stan wistfully smiled, stubbing out his cigarette on the floor. “[Name] would have loved the twins.” 

✶ Stan looked between the twins. “So, whaddya wanna know?” He asks. “Who are they!” Mable shouted. “They are our younger sibling.” Ford said. Mable’s face exploded into shock. “We have a secret Great Aunt/Grunkle?” Mable couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Where are they?” Dipper questioned. “They’re somewhere,” Stan said with a strained voice. “Where is somewhere?” Mable cocked her head to the side. “They’re out exploring the world.” Ford horribly lied. Mable frowned. “You can tell us if they’re dead, Grunkles. You don’t have to hide it from us.” Stan took a harsh deep breath in. “They aren’t dead, pumpkin. We just have no idea where they’re at.” Mable nodded her head in understanding. “Did you guys fall out?” Dipper asked with a tiny frown. “Yeah. A terrible fight broke out and they left.” Ford gazed at the photo of the three of them when they were young, clueless of the world and just happy to be surrounded by one another. “I’m so sorry.” Mable’s excitement was no longer there and was replaced by sadness for her poor Grunkle’s. “It’s okay, dear. No need to apologize.” Ford assured Mable with a smile. “[Name] is a wonderful person,” This was the first time Stan had talked about you in a present tense and he couldn’t tell if he liked that or not. “I hope one day you get to meet them.”

✶ Unbeknownst to the two older twins, Dipper had found journal three when Stan instructed him to go out and put out signs in the woods. But they didn’t find out that Dipper had it until he had shown the book to Ford and Stan after the events that had followed them the past few days. “Gideon nearly destroyed the whole town trying to find it!” Dipper said. Stan pretended to feign interest as he skimmed through the pages. “I don’t know what it means, or who wrote it, but after all we’ve been through,” He looks at Mable and smiles, directing attention to his Grunkle’s who were trying their hardest to hide their actual feelings. “Maybe you guys should finally know about it too.” He grinned. “I’m glad you showed us this, Dipper.” Stan shut the book closed. “Uhm, Grunkle Stan. Why does Grunkle Ford look like he’s about to crap himself?” Mable looked concerned for her Grunkle. Everyone turned their attention to Ford who weakly smiled at them. “Excuse him. He’s still shaken–” Ford yanked Stan by the sleeve and pulled him out of the twins room. “We need to go to the lab now!” Ford whispered. “I know that, Stanford! But at least let us pretend we don’t give a ratsass for this book!” He whispered back. “We’ll be back!” Ford awkwardly excused him and Stan. The twins heard their Grunkle speedily walk down the stairs. “Do you think I’m ever going to get that book back?” Mable shrugged. 

✶ Placing the books right next to each other, Ford flipped to the pages containing the blueprints. He connected the books together, showing the full plan of the portal. Stan read the instructions and swung over to the controls, he flipped the exact switches that were told to be switched. The lights around the portal flickered on. “Oh my god!” Ford laughed out in surprise. “Is this actually going to work?” Stan and Ford rush over to the portal. Their hearts thrumming against their chest. Together, they pulled the lever. With a click, it moved to the other side and the portal hummed. Zaps of electricity emitted from the portal as it powered back on. A rush of wind blew by Stan and Ford as the portal swirled to life. Ford shook his head in disbelief. “Can’t believe we did it, huh?” Stan says with a smile. “I thought we were never going to get this portal turned on.” Stan claps his back. “Well, believe it!” 

✶ Ford was so sure they weren’t going to get caught. He was so absolutely sure. The plan he made to steal the nuclear waste was perfect, there was no room for error. But it seemed like the universe had other plans. He never imagined himself getting pinned to a cop car with cuffs around his wrists. This was more of a Stanley thing, and yet here he is, getting arrested. “This is all just a big misunderstanding!” Ford cried out, his cheek squished against the hood of the cop car. “Guys, can’t I give you some money?” Stan approached them with his hands in his pockets. They all watched him nervously, guns aimed and men ready to tackle him down. “Grunkle Stan, maybe you shouldn’t!” Mable grabs Stan’s hand and pulls him back. “You guys got the wrong guy, my brother is innocent!” Stan argues. “Oh, we’ve been watching your family all summer and we have seen some pretty disturbing things. Whoever you think your brother is, he is not what he seems.” They shove Ford into a car. “Guys!” Ford calls, the door slamming shut on him. Stan watches as they drive off with Ford, his head spinning. “As for you guys, we were removing you off the property.” The guy with a mustache said, directing them to another cop car that was beside them. “No, you can’t!” Stan felt helpless. He just wants you back, why is this so difficult? The chaos spiraled into madness and suddenly, Stan was in the lab, begging the kids to not turn off the portal. “This’ll end the world, Grunkle Stan. Why can’t you see that?” Dipper had his hands hovering dangerously close to the button. “Just listen to me, kid. It’ll make sense later, just don’t press the button.” He walked towards them but was soon taken off his feet. “Brace yourselves!” They all rise up, twirling and thrashing around the room. “T-Minus, thirty five seconds.” The robotic voice said. Dipper had grabbed onto a beam and told Mable to reach for the button. Using the cable wrapped on her foot, she inched herself close to the button. “Mable, wait, wait!” Stan pushed him off the wall and tried reaching towards her. Soos dove straight for Stan and wrapped himself around him, apologizing to him. “Soos, what’re you doing?!” Dipper followed what Soos did and yelled at Mable to turn it off. 

✶ “Stop!” Everyone looked around and they all gasped when their eyes landed on Ford. “Mabel, don’t listen to Dipper. Listen to me,” Ford pushed himself toward the nearest beam. He coiled his arm around it, securing himself. “Do you trust me and Stan, Mable?” Ford firmly asked, his eyes locked with Mabel. “I do!” She desperately said. “Then trust us when we tell you to not push the button.” Mabel looked to Dipper who was widely shaking his head. “Okay,” She raises her hands above her head. “I trust you guys.” She let herself float up, away from the button. “Mable, no–!” A white flash envelops them whole. 

✶ They all roughly made contact with the floor. With a groan, Stan rubbed his head, his head lifting up towards the portal. The portal flickered with wandering electricity. Ford held his breath, eyes fixed on the portal as he waited. A black figure barreled out of the portal, their head whipping towards it. “Close the portal!” You yelled, your hand wrapping around a gun that was hoisted in their waist. You turned their attention back to Stan and Ford. “Close the portal!” You repeated louder this time. In the distance, they all heard a loud distorted guttural grumble. Ford got up from his feet and rushed over to the control panel, flicking all the switches down. “Switch the lever off!” Switching the gun to your other hand, you aimed it at the portal and with your free hand, you pulled the lever. Before whatever monster was chasing you could catch up, the portal sputtered close. You held your chest, catching your breath. The rush of adrenaline you felt passed and you were immediately struck with pain. “Thank you.” You whisper, clutching your side. You think you can manage and to prove it, you take one wobbly step forward. You tried to take another but you collapsed to your knees,  blood splattering on the floor below you. “[Name]!” Stan yelled, he darted towards you. “Stanley?” You croaked out. You blinked in surprise. “Is that really you?” Your question falls on deaf ears as Stan yells for medical supplies. Ford comes rushing to your side, inspecting the upper half of your body. “Stanford’s here too?” You felt your body teeter from side to side. “Is Mom and Dad gonna pop up?” You joke, your body crashing onto Ford. “[Name], can….hear…?”  Stan’s voice fades in and out. “What did you say?” Your eyes squint at Stan. “Here, Grunkle…” You could hear a high pitched voice and you go to look for it but your vision has gone hazy. “They’re slipping…out of…” You really wished you understood what they were saying. And without even realizing, your eyes closed on you. 

✶ You feel a warmth tickle your face causing you to stir awake. “Oh my gosh, it worked!” A voice spoke. “Mable!” A prepubescent voice filled your ears. “What is with all this talking?” You sleepily grumbled out, peeling your eyes open to see two tween kids staring right at you with big wondrous eyes. “Hi, I’m Mable! I’m your great niece.” She introduced herself. “Great niece?” You groggily got up. “Where am I?” You ask, blinking as your vision comes back to you. “You’re in the Mystery Shack!” She tells you with a chipper attitude. “Mystery Shack?” You look down to see that your original outfit you wore was now discarded somewhere and instead wore a large baggy white tee and heart pajama pants. “What am I wearing?” You pinched at your clothes. “Kids!” A gruff voice was heard behind the doors. “Oh shoot!” Mable looked around the room. “Where do we hide?” Dipper whispered, his eyes darting under the bed. “Go under the bed!” Dipper said, diving straight under. “Please don’t tell Grunkle Stan that we’re here!” She pleaded. “Uhm, yeah?” She beamed and hid right under the bed. In an instant, the door was pushed open and your eyes locked on your brothers. Your brain processed it for a moment, wait… “Stanley, Stanford?!” A gasp leaves Ford. “Why are you awake! You’re supposed to be resting.” Ford scolded. You didn’t pay attention to Ford’s scolding, wrapped up in the moment of seeing your twin brothers living and breathing right in front of you. “Are you guys real?” You try to blink away the tears that were obstructing your view. “Of course we are silly.” Stan laughed, sitting down on the bed right next to you and wrapping you in a side hug. “Stan…” You cried. You had spent countless nights, shouldering the knowledge that you weren’t going to see your brothers ever again. That haunted you every single day from the moment you woke up to the minute you went to sleep. Here you are, proven wrong for once in your life. And it feels so good to be held by Stan again, feels so good to have a familiar feeling wash into your senses again. “How?” You ask, peeling yourself away from Stan’s shoulder, wiping the tears away. “We just kept trying and trying.” Ford told you, a somber smile on his lips. “Oh, Ford. Come here!” You grab his wrist and tug him into the bed. The action caused you to drag and flop all of them on the bed with you. Tearful laughter erupts in the room. “I apologize for the scare earlier,” You say, your hand pressing against your side. “Don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault.” Stan said. “No, really.” You begin to unwrap the gauze around your waist, ignoring Ford and Stan’s protest. “I heal quickly.” You point to your already sealed up gash. The only thing left to prove that you were injured was the thin scar that spread across. Ford gawks in awe. “You need to tell me an in depth story detailing every single thing you have been doing for the past thirty years.” Ford said with so much seriousness you laughed. “Bu-but you passed out. Ford said it was from blood loss!” 

✶ “I only passed out because my body needs to shut down momentarily to heal up my wounds.” You tell him matter of factly. “Oh, great. Now we have another snobby nerd.” Stan joked. “Oh, stop it! You are too, considering you fixed the portal alongside with Mr. Branic over here.” You jabbed a thumb over to Ford who yelled out, “Hey!” in offense. “Hello family!” Mable popped out from under the bed. The three of you screamed loudly in fear, clutching each other. “Woah, didn’t mean to scare you guys!” She helped Dipper out from under the bed. “I just wanted to say that you guys are so adorable!” She squealed, pouncing onto the bed. “I can’t believe I have a Great Aunt/Grunkle who has traveled throughout dimensions. Isn’t that so cool?” She kicked her feet in excitement. “What kinds of monsters did you see out there?” Dipper asked, climbing onto the bed and settling himself between you, Ford and Stan. “A lot.” You respond with a smile. “I never caught your brother's name.” You say, booping Dipper’s nose. “His name is Dipper!” Mable pulls him close to her, cheek to cheek. “We’re twins.” She mentioned. “So it runs in the family, huh?” You elbow the two sets of other twins you had the misfortune to partially grow up with. “Guess so,” Stan smiled. “Let’s play a get to know each other game.” Mable offered. Everyone surprisingly agreed. “Okay, let’s start with Great Aunt/Grunkle [Name]. Tell us about yourself.” The rest of the afternoon was spent catching up with the family and when the game was over, the twins had left, leaving you with Stan and Ford. “Thank you guys for not giving up on me.” You say into the hug. “We’re family! How could we ever abandon you?” Ford replies. An awkward cough emitted from you and Stan looked off to the side. “Oh.” The last thirty years had been rough, for you and the twins, but it was nice knowing that it ended with the three of you once again reunited at last. 

IT'S DONNE, and again if you guys want more i'll write more but till then i think this concludes word/insured YIPPIE

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz if you wanna be added to my taglist, dm me or comment! <3

[really-fanny-longbottom]

okay sooooo

i had this little thought right

okay so maybe like reader has been a part of the inner circle for a looooong time like since the batboys were kids and they've all been friends forever, naturaly azriel has been in love with her since then, and a few years ago he realised they were mates (she doesn't know)

this one time she walks into the townhouse in just a bra and trousers, casually just walking in drinking coffee while the rhys and cass are just flabbergasted (cass being cass is eyeing the goods real hard because shes always been hot and he knows it) rhys is smirking and all (hes no less honestly)

then az walks in and hes just like what the fuck, she tries to explain smth happened to her shirt on the way and hes just grumbling and takes off his own shirt and is like put this own (cass is naturally making comments that make az's blood boil)

then you can choose where that goes from there

lmfaoooo im so sorry i couldn't get this idea out of my head

its okayyyy if you can't write it!!!

hi! sorry it took me so long to post but i've been really busy with university and only now have i had some free time.

anyway, here it is! thank you so much for this request, i loved writing it!

i hope you like it! 🫶🏻

my hero

summary: a small but very happy incident.

warnings: none

pairings: azriel x reader

words: 2.2k

tick 

tack

tick 

tack 

"ugh," a heavy groan escaped your lips at the sound of the clock. you seated slightly, your head pounding without mercy. 

as you looked at the window, your eyes fought against the early sunlight, before adjusting and finally allowing you to fully open them.

it took you a few seconds to remember your surroundings, and to be honest, to remember anything. 

the confusion didn't last long when all the memories from last night hit you all at once. 

you had gone out for the night with morrigan. you went to rita's for a girls night.

a night with a lot of drinking and dancing and singing and drinking again — mysterious headache solved.

you looked down on you, seeing the shiny short black dress you had chosen for last night specifically. 

you passed your hands through your messy hair and took a glance at your bedroom, absorbing the chaos that a very drunk you had caused.

how could just a person cause such a mess?

tick 

tack

tick

tack

"ugh!" a loud annoyed groan left your lips again

at the sound of the clock that kept attacking your brain. 

before you could think twice, you turned and reached out to punch the clock, causing it to fall to the ground.

you lowered yourself on the bed sheets with an arm over your head.

this was going to be a very long day.

and that's when it you.

your eyes and two seconds later, your legs were fighting against the bed sheets. 

after losing that battle, you ended up falling to the ground with a loud noise. 

a small 'huff' came out of your mouth before getting up and running to the clock as quickly as possible to check the time. 

10:07 am

"oh, shit."

you were late for your internship at the clinic.

"oh, shit."

you quickly begin to look for clean clothes at the same time you try to get rid of your dress. 

you manage to find something that looked relatively clean and put it on, your heart racing as you tried to get your hair to not look like a complete mess.

when you finished putting your hair in a more presentable state, you hurried to put on your shoes, but when you noticed the time again, you only managed to put on a sock before grabbing the first pair of shoes in sight and running out of your room. 

as you run for the stairs, you didn't have time to react before a body collided with yours and spilled coffee all over your t-shirt.

the hot contents against your skin forced you to let out a small scream and dropped the shoes to the floor as you struggled to pull the fabric of your t-shirt away from your body. 

"shit, shit, shit!" you cursed at the same time you blew on your t-shirt.

great, as if your day wasn't already going badly. 

"sorry," a small voice said.

you met your attacker's gaze as you looked up to see a beautiful female with green eyes and brown hair — morrigan's friend. 

right, you had forgotten that she had come home with the two of you — with mor. 

the female looked mortified as you stared at her annoyed. when you saw her opening her mouth to say something, you quickly stopped her.

"don't," you raised your hand at her, you didn't have time for this, "just. . .just go."

you pointed at morrigan's bedroom, whose door was slightly open. the female followed your direction, shrinking a little as she passed through you.

"idiot!" you cursed quietly. 

you looked at your bedroom and considered your options: the chances that you may find a new clean t-shirt in the middle of that mess, were very low and you were already late.

so you gave up and made your way down the stairs, starting to unbutton your shirt before completely taking it off, leaving you in your black lacy bra, and entering the kitchen.

rhysand and cassian who had been enjoying a late breakfast found themselves speechless upon your entrance. 

their gazes followed you as you moved to the sink and started working on removing the stain.

the males shared a gaze between them, identical smirks forming on both of their faces.

"good morning, y/n." rhysand greeted you as he took a sip of his tea cup.

you jumped startled, your eyes found theirs immediately, "gods, i didn't see you there."

rhysand's smirk grew wider. "oh, we know."

"did you get mugged?" cassian asked as he took in your figure.

you were barefoot with only one sock and shirtless.

"what?" you asked confused. 

cassian's eyes roam over your body.

"oh, no, morrigan's friend though it was a good idea to spill her coffee over me. freaking idiot," you murmured the last part, still focused on the task in hand.

cassian let out a snort "well, i'll make sure to thank her personally for this amazing view."

you rolled your eyes at his comment "oh, shut up, cassian. we grew up together, we've all seen each other naked at one point."

rhys smirked and grew before adding "sure, but we were either kids or teenagers at those times." 

cassian glanced at his brother, amusement all over his features "maybe we should go back to those times."

with another roll of your eyes, you tried to suppress a smile at your friend's comment while trying to get rid of the stain.

as on cue, the shadowsinger entered the kitchen to join his brothers for breakfast.

instead, he was surprised with a view of you shirtless — his shirtless mate.

the very reason, rhys and cassian had begun to tease you in the first place. 

what made this whole situation much funnier — the fact that you weren't aware of this detail. 

and things had just become a lot more interesting now with azriel in the room. 

his eyes widened at the sight of you but when he turned to find his brothers, his eyes darkened and a low growl was released.

"nice of you to join us, brother," cassian said casually as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

he can practically feel the heat coming off of azriel, like smoke coming out of his ears.

"what's wrong, az?" rhys asked him, knowing exactly what was going on but seeing azriel riled up was too funny to miss it.

at the sound of their voices, you looked up and your eyes found a pair of hazel ones.

"oh, hi, azriel." you greeted him with your sweet smile — the one he liked so much.

the shadowsinger found himself melting at your words, at the way you said his name. 

his eyes instantly softed, a small blush coming to his cheeks and a goofy smile on his lips, "h-hi, y/n." 

you gave him a warm smile before going back to your task.

azriel regained his composure at the sound of his brothers' muffled laughter. 

he sighed and rolled his eyes at their behavior, he hadn't catched a break from them since he revealed the mating bond on one drunken night.

cassian elbowed rhys gently in the ribs to get his attention, when his eyes found his, the general gestured with his head to the shadowsinger. 

"hey, az" cassian tried to contain his urge to laugh, he knew what was about to happen. 

"what?" azriel managed to say, his eyes still on your figure.

"we were just talking. . ." cassian started, his voice teasing "about going back to those times when we were teenagers." 

azriel face scrunched in confusion, he shot his brother a look. 

"you know," cassian continued, his peripheral vision caught rhys trying to control himself  "those times where we didn't care about being naked in front of each other." 

both rhys and cassian snorted at the sight of azriel's face turning red.

"what?!" the male let out a little too loud then he had intended.

rhys proceeded, "yeah, you know. when we didn't care so much about formalities. don't you agree, y/n?" 

you rolled your eyes again at rhys comment, "i think you two have too much free time" you chuckled, "cauldron has mercy on the poor females that will ended up as your mates."

"hey!" both cassian and rhys protested.

azriel smiled at your comment, but it fell when he observed both of his brothers eyes roaming over your body, grins splattered on their features.

azriel moved to the edge of the table, placing his hands on the surface of it before giving them a glare and clenching his jaw.

"stop looking at her like that before i break your faces" he threatened through gritted teeth. 

cassian and rhys were quick to lift their arms in surrender, both muttering a small "yes, sir." 

azriel rolled his eyes in annoyance. his attention was caught when he heard you cursed quietly. 

he sent one last warning look to the two males before moving to stand behind you.

he was so close, that all it took was another step of his for your back to be pressed against his chest.

azriel would love to know the feeling of that sensation, but he remained where he was.

he peeked through your shoulder and saw that you couldn't get rid of the annoying coffee stain. 

"gods, madja is going to kill me for being late." 

without a second thought, azriel took a step back.

"here," he told you.

you turned to find him taking off his own shirt.

your eyes roamed his body — his sun-kissed skin, his muscles, his illyrian tattoos. 

you loved those tattoos. 

"put it on," he extended his hand to you, holding out his shirt.

"oh, that's not necessary, az. i-"

"it's okay, y/n. i- i want you too. by the way, why don't you go get your shoes and i'll take you to the clinic? it's quicker that way and you don't have to walk." 

your face softened, "really? you would do that?" 

the corner of his lips lifted for a small smile, only you to make him feel this way.

"of course." 

you grabbed his shirt, "ugh, thank you, az."

you put it on and azriel tried to not let the sight of your small feature into his too big of a shirt to affect him, but he failed when his heart skipped a beat.

you moved forward and grabbed his cheeks, kissing him on the left one.

caught off guard, azriel tried to hide the fact that his skin had heated up under your touch. 

a new blush came to decorate his cheeks. 

"hm. . .i-" the male couldn't find his words with the sound of his heart roaming in his ears. 

"you're my hero, az" you gave a big smile before making your way to the stairs to collect your shoes. 

azriel stood there in the middle of the kitchen with a hand making it's way to his face to touch the place you kissed him.

cassian and rhys burst out laughing, not being able to remain composed of their brother in love. 

cassian got up from his seat and walked towards his brother, clasping a hand on his back.

"behold of the big bad scary shadow-," cassian leaned over in laughter, "shadowsinger" he managed to complete. 

rhys appeared on his other side, "oh, brother. only if your enemies could see you now, they would think how big of a fool they are."  

azriel clenched his jaw again, and when he turned to answer them, he was stopped by a honey-sweet voice.

"i'm ready," you told him from the entrance.

once again, the shadowsinger was left completely disarmed.

a goofy smile reappeared on his face. 

he didn't even spare a glance at his brothers before making his way to you, "let's go then."

cassian and rhys were left in the kitchen laughing to themselves.

•••

the trip to the clinic was quick.

azriel landed softly on the ground, keeping a hand on your waist and another on your back to make sure you were stable.

you took a step forward before turning to him.

"thank you again, az. you literally just saved my morning." 

and there it was that goofy smile again.

"oh, it's nothing really. my pleasure." 

you let out a small giggle. you reached forward, surrounding his neck with one of your arms and gave him a kiss on the cheek again.

azriel's heart raced and his voice caught in his throat. 

you took a step back "you're my hero, azriel. what would i do without you?" 

you caressed his cheek with the back of your hand before giving him one last smile and moving towards the clinic.

"hm, i-" was all the male managed to say while watching you entering the clinic with his shirt.

he watched as you grabbed the door, and turned to him to wave goodbye. 

azriel returned the gesture. it was at that moment that he realized how much power you had over him.

he didn't push away that feeling, in fact he embraced it.

it was about time to let the walls he had built so long ago disappear. 

and you were the right person for that.

azriel made a decision at that moment.

at the end of the day, he would come pick you up and ask you out on a date.

he would buy you flowers, tell you how he felt and take you to dinner.

he just hoped you felt the same way.

and that you said yes.

masterlist

general taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @littlelou22 @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @meul-a @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @mrsjna @lively-potter @avajustreads @talesofadragon @circe143 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @dark-chaos-314 @tequilya @scoliobean @saltedcoffeescotch @charlotteintumbleland @agirlwithwifiandalaptop @987coley

*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because I couldn't find your blog.

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[lightfromandromeda]

time lord things that i want them to bring back for the doctor

- strength: time lords dont have superhuman strength like superman but they are a bit stronger than humans

- mimicry: its more common for time lords to be pitch perfect than not. 4 one time let out a very high pitch scream to shatter a glass window. 7 met a clone of 6 and they started mimicking each others voice to make of fun each other. 10 got into a party saying he was an opera singer, but upon hearing that, the guests urge him to sing (he does and he apparently is flawless but thats off screen) the doctor has also used someone elses voice to get into something voice activated only by said persons voice

- hypnotism/mind control: i forget if its a thing that the doctor doesnt like to use hypnosis cuz it's rude and he'd rather ask buuuuuut im sure he can make a few exceptions. if not then make the master do it again. the dr straight up doesnt do mind stuff anymore (except to erase memories)

- flight: PLEASE PLEASE IT WOULD JUST BE SO FUNNY PLEASE

- multidimensional: im on the side of 'time lords are eldritch in nature due to their multidimensionalness and we cant see their true form' so have like.... stuff... or something come in and out of the 3rd dimension near the doctor thats like a body part that hes just shifting or something

- future sight: 15 did display this in church on ruby road but i want MORE like how often 8 did it

not really an ability but make him play instruments again. he loves music. or get him rly into cartoons again. bro looooves xmen and transformers

also break his sonic again make him go hands free for a while. i feel the doctor is much more fun and interesting when he only has whats at his disposal

[bucksboobs]

Tell me about the hot pilot

“So…” Maddie smiles, like a proud mother if Buck’s being honest and she shimmies like a big sister. “Tell me about the hot pilot.”

Buck ducks his head. What is there to say besides what he already has? Tommy is interesting, he’s confident, he has a cleft. “He’s just…” he can’t stop smiling already. “He’s.” Maddie is smiling too. So big and bright. “He’s amazing Maddie.”

“Ok so how did this,” she waves her hands at Buck’s general (lovestruck? Too soon for that. Infatuated) Infatuated demeanor, “all happen?”

“Right, so remember when I was acting like a teenage girl?”

“And you nearly broke Eddie’s ankle?”

“Right.” “That night, after Tommy got Eddie back from the hospital I was like…” he sighed to admit it. “Sulking, because I felt like I had both lost my best friend and make an absolute fool of myself in front of Tommy and Chimney. He shows up at my door, and he looked so handsome Maddie, he has these beautiful blue eyes.” Maddie laughed a little. It wasn’t cruel. She was enjoying Buck being smitten. “And he’s as tall as me but somehow wider. It’s.” He stops himself. He isn’t sure how far he can push it but it’s hot. He thinks Tommy’s hot (not that anything will happen there now but Tommy still is hot). “It’s very attractive.

“You can say he’s hot, Buck.”

“He’s so hot, Maddie.” He huffs it out. It feels good to say to anyone. “I fucking blew it, but he’s so hot.”

“He might come around.” She offers.

“I said we were going to go look for hot chicks after the movie. He’s gay.” Maddie sucks her teeth. Yeah. He’s not getting out of this that easily.

“But anyway. He comes over and we’re talking and he’s telling me how he’s not trying to replace me. That Eddie and him aren’t pushing me away. He tells me that Chris can’t shut up about me.”

“Wow so he’s a smooth talker.” Maddie says.

“So smooth. And—and my heart was beating so fast. I could hardly breathe and I thought it was just because I was tense but.” He takes another deep breath. “So I tell him I’m sorry for being jealous and he says he was jealous too.” Which Buck still struggles to believe but Tommy was jealous of him and Eddie and Hen and Chim.

“Of…?”

“The 118. He was there for a long time but it wasn’t a family and now it is. You know I think of Bobby as more of a dad than I do our actual dad.”

“Which is fair.” Maddie admits.

“Anyway I tell him that he is a part of the 118. That he saved Bobby and Athena with us and he made stupid fake mouth static.” Buck’s head falls as he remembers it all over again. “And I start like actually flirting, telling him how I wanted to get to know him and thought he was cool and I wanted his attention.”

“Wow.” Maddie says, again.

“Yeah.” He says sheepishly. “Wow.”

They laugh together, brother and sister, free and happy. It feels like something they should have had a long long time ago.

“I tell him you said that there are better ways to get someone’s attention and he. He fucking kissed me.” It plays again in his mind. “It was so sweet and tender but like forceful and confident and… sorry.”

“No no go on!” She puts her chin on her hands on the counter.

“I feel like he rebooted my entire code. Like I went from Windows 98 to Windows 10 or whatever the current one is. It was amazing and.” Buck sighs. Maybe he is a little lovesick. “He asks me out.” It’s a little bittersweet knowing that the date Tommy asked him out on ended so embarrassingly but his memory of moment was still honeyed and saccharine. “Just like that. He asks me if I’m free Saturday and I jumped at it.”

“I bet.” Maddie’s glued on smile becomes a little wry. “Sounds like he did a number on you.”

“And I blew it.” Buck pouts.

“Hey, don’t count yourself out yet.” Maddie says. Reaching her hand to touch his shoulder. “My little brother is a charmer, he’ll be thinking about you for a while.”

“Thanks Maddie.” Buck says. “This was nice.”

“Oh I am very experienced in talking about boys. We do it again some time.”

“Let’s.”

[loveushijima]

a/n: a love letter to all my curly headed girlies reading this <3

from a girl with curly hair to another, pls enjoy!

thinking about the concept of sakusa kiyoomi and you, with your curly hair.

it was a gloomy saturday afternoon. the sky was clouded with dark rain clouds and the pitter-patter of the first few raindrops could be heard crashing against kiyoomi’s living room windows.

rarely do you and your boyfriend’s schedules align during weekends; he’s always either back at itachiyama for volleyball training or at a nearby park doing his own physical training, and you’re either always with your family or with your friends — and if it’s not for any of those reasons, you’re both probably busy running miscellaneous errands.

all this to say, quality time did not come cheap in your relationship. that’s why much to your delight, on this fateful saturday kiyoomi didn’t have volleyball training today and you were free too! so you swung by his house and now you were both cuddled up on his sofa watching a movie together. you picked a romance that you have watched at least 10 times before and loved it every single time! kiyoomi is there with his eyes half-lidded because it’s so boring and so not his taste in movies. but he’s watching it regardless, because he loves you.

as you rest your head on his lap, commenting on how your favourite part is coming up in the next scene, kiyoomi sleepily plays with your curls and intertwines them with his fingers.

your curly hair was one thing kiyoomi admired about you. in a country full of girls with straight, long hair, you caught his attention almost immediately when you walked into the classroom during the first year. you had curls just like his. and despite your first words to him being, “you have curly hair just like i do! we look like cousins hehe…” he was still hopelessly infatuated with your curly locks.

“our children are going to have such pretty, curly hair.” kiyoomi murmured out, fingers still entangled with your curls.

you physically tense up and turn around to meet your boyfriend’s eyes. it was comical how instantaneous the sleepiness left kiyoomi’s eyes and panic started to set in.

“our children, omi?” you laugh, raising a teasing eyebrow. “maybe try proposing to me first then we can talk about the prospect of having children.”

a redness overcame kiyoomi’s ears as he covered his face in embarrassment, groaning lowly as he chortled softly at his direct words.

“i didn’t… i…” your boyfriend stuttered out. only you knew how to fluster him like this and it was adorable.

kiyoomi sighs defeatedly and sets his hand down, looking into your eyes with a small smile.

“i meant it, honestly.” you look at him with a surprised expression. “i love your curly hair. and i cannot wait for our children to inherit them. and mine. they’re going to have such pretty curls.”

a few years later, as you diffuse your daughter’s locks, you see through the mirror’s reflection your son waiting patiently for his turn by the bathroom doorframe. you can’t help but smile at the adolescent memory of you and your now husband foreshadowing your life together.

[manhattanstrawberry]

𝘽𝙍𝘼𝙕𝙄𝙇𝙄𝘼𝙉 𝙃𝙊𝙇𝙄𝘿𝘼𝙔

Synopsis : You’ve got it cut out for you as Japan’s top model, the constant flights, fittings, photo shoots and shows wear down on you and the world loves you but the love of 8 billion people will never amount to his. After finding yourself in an unfortunate situation in Rio de Janeiro, he sees you again but you’re two different people now, but maybe time is just a catalyst.

Tags : happy ending, friends to lovers, you and shoyo don’t see each other for years, complicated reunion, yearning, mutual pining, you hate him but not really

Warnings : mdni, mild angst, sexual content

Word count : 8.3k

Series mlist

Author's note : okay so I give every person who was waiting for this chapter a free pass to pinch me. I took so long to do this chapter because I was busy with school and everything for a while and then I really wanted this chapter to be what I envisioned in my head so I went through many trial and errors for this chapter and I’m so happy with how this chapter came out. I am sorry for the wait and I’m so thankful for those supporting this fic!! I hope you enjoy! ღ

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“Add some more there.” 

Yume’s finger circled as she pointed to your under eyes. Her eyes squinted as she skimmed over your face, treating it as if it were a puzzle to be solved. “How early did you wake up this morning?” 

“Pretty early, I’d say about six.” The lie fell effortlessly through your teeth.

An anxious gaze of your eyes followed her as you felt as if she would solve the puzzle soon as she crossed the room towards another table

“Why so early you went to bed late and woke up early for a shoot at a 2’ o clock?” The interrogation began as she rummaged through a makeup bag. She walked over, handing a tube over to the makeup artist quickly before turning her attention back to your makeup.

“Isn’t that a bit much for a beach shoot, she’s supposed to look more natural.” Tatsuki turned away from the clothes rack, to look at Yume; confusion spread across his features. 

“Yes, well if she hadn’t woken up so early, maybe we wouldn't have to use so much corrector.” 

You squirmed in your seat at the slight dig. You knew you should have gotten rest last night, and perhaps not sneak out of your hotel room at 1 A.M in the morning to do God knows what. You wish that even a small, miniscule piece of your memory stayed behind for you to remember what you were doing on your little stealth trip. 

You had no memory of anything after talking to that woman on the beach and it caused fear to grow and rattle inside of your bones. How did you end up in the room of the one person you did not want to see on this earth, maybe all your luck had been thrown out the window, grown legs and ran far away from you. Well not too far as you had successfully sneaked back into your hotel room without getting caught, at 10:47 A.M at that. You're sure everyone was already up and about then and maybe the universe heard your cries because you were told later they went out for breakfast and “left” you to get some rest. 

But your mind continued to race to piece the puzzle of how exactly you ended up there. You wondered if you went out to seek him when you were too intoxicated or did you suddenly remember the number you glanced at for 2 seconds before deleting when Tadashi sent you his new international number two days after he was gone. 

You couldn’t possibly have remembered that number from 2 years ago. Perhaps you met him on the beach, maybe the ball rolled over to your feet as you were walking along the shore, maybe he ran up to you and spewed all these heartfelt words to you, apologies and declarations of lov–-stop. 

A heavy sigh leaves you, your mind running in circles. Yume placed her phone down and looked at you as her eyebrow raised in curiosity at the sound of a sigh leaving you, “Are you still tired?” 

You straightened your back in the chair, “No, I’m fine,” you reassured her, placing your bent foot that was perched upon the chair back down until you felt the cold tile under your toes. 

“Why do you look like that?” Suspicion hinted in Yume’s sentence had you on edge, her eyebrows scrunching towards each other. 

“How do I look?” You sat up even straighter to look into the vanity’s mirror quickly, afraid something was off. 

The woman in front of you set down the fluffy brush she was just using along your cheeks, digging through the bag on the vanity in front, “You just look a bit sad—or lost in thought might be better.” She added on to Yume’s question before you heard a small squeal of excitement from her as she found the brush she was looking for. 

“Ayumi, add a bit more highlight there– are you sad?” Yume’s head snapped to your direction, her blunt tone exhausting you even more. 

You shook your head a slight pout on your lips at the sudden interrogation. 

“Okay problem fixed.” Yume clapped her hands, “Ayumi finish up quickly, we need to get some shots before sunset.” 

You walked along the sand of the same beach you had found solace in last night, you were much farther from others, the company renting out the end of the beach for the photoshoot, hidden enough to avoid any unnecessary commotion from the public. 

The sheer white dress adorned on your body had you feeling every inch of the sun rays on your skin, the white bikini underneath shined through the thin fabric.

You felt excited for the warm clear waters to wash over your skin and indulge in the sounds of soft waves against your body. 

Which is exactly what you did and you enjoyed every moment of it. 

The sun had set and the warmth from the day lingered on your skin even as the night breeze started to pick up. The photoshoot had been successful, switching through 8 different outfits of the line and modeling in the sun had done nothing but tire you out. The sight of Mr. Iwasaki’s expressions every time you had modeled his fathers line gave you the energy to keep going, remembering the pure awe in his face as he voiced his excitement during the photoshoot—“It’s like they were made just for you!” 

You smiled at his compliment, mutually expressing your awe at his pictures. The way he took pictures and directed the shoot today contributed to the success of today’s work. 

As the staff wrapped up the set you could feel the humid air of the night against your cheeks as you changed into your clothes,  overhearing them excitedly gush over the bars near the beach, leading to a decision that a celebration should occur tonight to celebrate a successful shoot. You believed they just wanted an excuse to drink but you couldn't blame them after their hard work and the fact that you had done something so irresponsible last night to end up drinking your memory away gnawed at your conscience. 

“Alright let’s go here.” Tatsuki’s finger pointed to a spot on his phone. You contemplated the idea of joining them or going back to the hotel to catch up on your much needed rest but it couldn’t hurt to join them, you decided as your shoulders were already being pushed into the direction towards the more populated area of the beach. 

Taking a longer route to the bar for the group to get a chance to enjoy the beach tired you out even further, your feet barely picking up off the sand. The familiar sight of people drinking and playing around lessened your fatigue but had you grimacing at the thought of your decisions last night and still wondering what you must have gotten up to after you had that lethal drink. 

“Wow they’re good.” You heard a voice interrupt your thoughts as the group kept walking. Your eyes followed the line of sight that the group was looking at. A large net in the middle of a drawn out court for beach volleyball, two men on each side fighting to keep the ball in the air. 

Your ears could hear the loud beats of your heart accelerating at the fact that you might run into the last person you wanted to see right now, you were afraid to run into him after you had escaped his apartment just this morning. You don’t remember ever meeting him under your intoxicated state and with a quick glance over the area, a mop of ginger hair was nowhere to be seen. Relief washed over you as your group walked further onto the beach to head to the bar on the lining of the street. 

“Beach volleyball is very popular out here.” Mr Iwasaki chimed in as the group continued to watch the game even after passing by it. 

“Wow, do you think we could catch a game while we’re here?” Tatsuki turned to his assistant stylist, and Yume. 

“I’d love to, it looks intense.” Nao nodded back. 

“Sure–which way to the bar again?” Yume turned to Mr. Iwasaki, not paying much mind to the topic at hand. 

“Almost there.” 

Hoping to get away from the constant chatter about volleyball and the men playing on the beach you headed to the restaurant bar's bathroom to avoid the conversation once the group was seated. You splashed your face with water, and rubbed your eyes hoping to rid the fatigue from your face, hoping that by the time you got back out there they’d stop with the volleyball talk and move on because you're almost sure you’ll have to hear of him soon.

“–sim, eles brincam muito lá embaixo.” [–yeah they play a lot down there] 

You sat down picking up the last bits of  what the waiter was saying to the group, internally groaning that they did not in fact move on from this topic. 

“Sim, eles são muito bons, tem um cara do Japão aqui também — ninja shoyo, eles o chamam, ele é muito bom!”

]Yeah they're real good, there's a guy from japan here too —ninja Shoyo they call him, he's real good!] His voice exclaimed as he slammed the beers on the table. The water in your throat threatened to rise and choke you, almost killing you at the familiar name running out of the man's mouth. You tried to drown out Mr. Iwasaki's translation to the group and unfortunately for you, you had already understood a good bit of what the man was saying. Of course Shoyo Hinata is loved even thousands of miles away from home. Your eyes focus on the beer in front of you, tempting you to chug it down (and many more) and forget about him and everything having to do with him. You hear Yume’s small whisper to not drink too much for tonight and you nod, deciding to just nurse a lemonade until it’s time to head back to the hotel. 

“Do you want another drink?” Taro, an intern under Mr. Iwasaki, asks you politely from the observation of your dismission towards the beers sitting on the table. 

“Oh no, I’m good thank you,” Your head shakes gently, softly laughing, “I don’t drink much.” 

The group beginning to become more loose from the non stop drinking laugh boisterously at your seemingly innocent decision, and all you could do was laugh along. You wondered how they planned to wake up for work tomorrow, feeling a bit grateful towards yourself and Yume that you didn't touch a drink tonight knowing you’d wake up feeling great tomorrow morning—the opposite of what you felt this morning.  

“We should try to catch the ninja.” Mr. Iwasaki laughs as he slurs, his drink falling over the rim of his glass as his arms raise in excitement. 

“It’s ninja Shoyo Sir and you should stop drinking now.” His assistant takes the glass from his hands and replaces it with water, “We can see him tomorrow, we should go home.” 

You watch the man protest picking up a beer resting in front of him.

“Don’t you want to see the players volley on the beach and see Shoyo ninja guy.” Mr Iwasaki turns to you as he lets the incoherent sentence fall from his lips without a care in the world. His assistant sighs at his boss's second awful attempt at saying the man’s alias. You just wish they’d get over this and stop saying his name. 

“No, I'm not quite interested in volleyball.” You smile back at him.

 Yume sets down her glass on the table to look at you, “But you have friends in the sport—you go to their games…and you seemed quite interested as a teenager.” She rebutted your previous statement. You wonder whether you should just get up and leave and save yourself from this non stop conversation about the sport. 

“I’m not interested in watching tomorrow,” You smile, trying to get away from the situation, “You guys should go without me tomorrow! I’m sure it'll be fun.” 

After a few hours by the bar, Yume decides to head back to the hotel with you, leaving the others behind. You ignore their shouts about volleyball and hoping to see a game after work, hoping that tonight is the last you’ll have to hear about it. 

Of course you’re continuously worked against by someone up there, as you overhear their chatter to stop by the beach after this fitting hoping to catch a game. You're not sure why they are all not tired out of their minds and not feeling the need to stay in their beds for the rest of the day after drinking to the point of liver failure last night. You end up getting dragged along despite your previous protests and constant reminders that you don’t like the sport and you’re not interested. All efforts are thrown away as Yume opens her mouth every time wondering if you have some sort of memory loss. You’re thankful that it seems as if she has it instead, not once recognizing his name. 

You’re disguised once again, this time with a little more effort put in thanks to Tatsuki. You don't think wearing a long sleeved shirt is the best idea as the weather is hot and there are barely any people with a shirt on around you with sleeves. A cap and sunglasses were finally appropriate for the time of day and you were hidden enough to avoid any identification. 

You’re sitting on a stone ledge, as others stand around and sit elsewhere. Your eyes catch him immediately as he's talking to a tall man towering over him. And in a second the noise around you falls flat, the world becomes silent and the sand under your feet feels like dispersed clouds. 

It’s him. It’s Shoyo. And you can feel it in your bones, you’re homesick. 

He looks well, healthy—happy. You want to see him closer. You want to see if he's been graced with freckles from the Brazilian sun, if his hair brushes into his eyes every now and then like it once did, if his lips are chapped from the constant hot weather. 

From here, you can see the smile on his lips, serious but excited for his game. He’s tan and you can see his hard work straining through the sleeves of his shirt. 

You watch him jump as he plays, that familiar feeling sneaking back into you. You hear the voices of awe from your staff and others in the crowd as they watch him jump at unbelievable heights in the sand. 

“–did you see that?” You hear Nao, whisper breathlessly to Tatsuki. He can’t take his eyes off the game as he nods, eyes wide. 

You think it’s unfair, even after all this time he’s still so beautiful and determined in a place so unfamiliar. But even so you share the same feeling as everyone else watching him, because he’s done it. 

You don’t think you've even glanced at anyone else during the game, your eyes hidden under your sunglasses are stuck to him as if he's the only one on the beach. As he jumps and moves around you watch his tousled hair from his movement and you hug your knees wondering if the strands are still as soft. 

You’re not aware of the game coming to an end, eyes still on him as he high fives the large man next to him in victory. A call of your name has you pulling out of your stupor. You look up to everyone else in your group standing up, some dusting the sand that trailed up their ankles. You stand up holding on to Nao’s hand, and you can see the excitement on her face from the game she watched. 

Beach volleyball and Indoor Volleyball have so many differences, but Shoyo Hinata will always give that same feeling to everyone who watches him. 

You’re ready to leave, if you get any closer to him you might kick sand at him or you might just cry and you have no energy to do either. 

But you hear Tatsuki’s laughter and his following right behind. You turn slowly to see Mr. Iwasaki and Tatsuki speaking to him as if they’ve known each other since junior high and you wish they'd have a little more self awareness to not speak to an athlete right after his game. To your right Yume is getting impatient, she’s ready to head back to the hotel but you can see it in her shoulders and her relaxed eyebrows that she enjoyed the time she spent out here and the game she got to watch. You turn to her wanting to ask about plans for dinner but she shouts for both men from where she’s standing, grabbing the attention of the three men. 

Out of all the times you’ve felt as if Yume was punishing you, this had to take the cake. You avert your eyes from the men and talk to Nao, hoping that he would barely spare a glance to Yume. 

But instead he looks at the woman who just shouted, catching the attention of the men in front of him and he knows that face and he knows without a doubt the woman standing beside her in conversation with someone else is exactly who he thinks it is. He can feel his knees become weak, his cheeks becoming flushed at thought that you were here, you were here watching him play and he wants to walk up to you and he wants to talk non stop now that you're sober and he wants you to talk to him even if you tell him to get hit by a bus. 

He’s unmoved as he watches you walk away with your assistant, some of the staff still moving slowly behind.  

“We’re heading to Topo Do Barril, Good Game!” One of the men he was speaking to before, shouted to him as they walked off the beach in your direction. 

“Shoyo, você está bem, você parece atordoado?” [Shoyo, are you okay, you look dazed.] 

“Estou bem, Heitor, só com sede!” [I’m fine, Heitor, just thirsty!] He laughs as he wipes the sweat and sand off of his hands on to his shorts. 

“Vamos tomar algumas bebidas!” [Let’s get some drinks!] The man slaps his back, ready to head to their usual spot to celebrate. 

He trails behind the man to the bar he was at last night, way past his bedtime. He wasn’t going to go, wanting to stick to his strict schedule of waking up and going to bed on time. He’d barely ever messed up his routine since coming here, but he felt grateful, he felt as if all of his prayers had been answered when the one night he forgoed his routine he ended up running into you, unfortunately drunk out of your mind and lost but he thought that he was dreaming once again only for you to fall in arms and remind him that you were very much so in front of him. He sits by the table he sat by the night before and waits for Heitor to come back from the bar, he’s completely out of it barely giving an answer to what he wanted to drink when asked. His mind was taken over by you. 

And once again he feels as if he's hallucinating, straight ahead further from the bar he’s at, you're standing outside another bar. You’re probably waiting for the group you were with earlier, remembering the tall man with bleached blonde hair telling him he’s going to that bar. 

Before he can stop himself, his feet are taking him over to you, his mind barely thinking but his body wanting to be near you. 

“I was looking all over for you this morning,” His voice starts off a little loud and excited before slipping to a soft tone. “Were you okay?” 

One of his hands is scratching the back of neck, the other in his pocket fiddling with a loose thread, he’s keeping his hands busy distracting himself from the thought of you in his arms once again. 

You don’t look at him, your eyes stuck on the ocean in front of you. You don’t want to look at him or talk to him, you’re afraid he'll break the poor facade you're putting up and the struggle between wanting to run away from him or into his arms. 

Your feet shuffle against the concrete under your heels, and you fix your sunglasses against your nose properly. Silence stands between the two of you. 

“Don’t speak to me.” You whisper after a minute of silence yet there’s no bite in your tone. 

“Did you have any problem getting back?” 

Your body finally turns to him and your lips are straight before they open once again, “I don't want to talk to you!” He watches as a frown settles on your lips, your eyebrows scrunching in frustration. His eyes glaze over your eyebrows, your nose, your lips, anything that you’re allowing him to see even after all this time. He keeps quiet and doesn’t say anything more and you can feel your insides churn, he’s never had the ability to shut up around you. But even after all the frustration, you still want to hear his voice as much as you hate yourself for wanting to hear it. 

“How did you know I was here—in Rio.” You ask, subtle disdain in your tone. 

Ten seconds pass before he speaks up again, “I ran into you on the sidewalk, you were drunk. I had no idea you were here, I was shocked. You didn’t know how to get back to your hotel and you forgot your assistant’s number, I just did the next best thing and made you sleep at my place until the morning. I just–I just wanted to talk to you.” His voice gets lower as he explains, hoping to ease you of your frustration. 

You stay silent for a moment before whispering a simple Ok, your voice is heavy and your head is downturned, your eyes focusing on the sprout growing out of the crack in the concrete. You feel like a teenager again, standing beside him realizing that some things can’t pass through time and distance. 

“How long are you staying here?” He asks quietly as to not bring any attention to the two of you. You don't reply, your head still downturned. He stands beside you silently before he hears you quietly reply, “A week.” 

He grins. “You can have so much fun in Rio in just a week.” 

You fight back a soft smile making its way on your lips. He sounds more mature, his voice a little older but still carrying that same spirit he had years ago. 

You're silent again before you hesitantly speak up. “I want to see more.” Your voice is still low. Very vague sentence but he understands you he always does. 

“If you don’t mind, I want to show you around. I’ll make sure you have a good time here.” 

You finally raise your head to look at him, your eyes shielded from the sunglasses. “I have work.” A frown forming on your face. 

 You've forgotten about the small disdain over seeing him, slipping back into the familiar feeling of being near him. “And I'm sure you've got other things to do.” 

“We can do things before or even after you're finished and I’ll make time during the day and night for you.” 

You want to ask what he's been up to other than volleyball, if he's been taking care of himself properly and if he's healthy. You want to talk to him and be with him and touch him. But you don't, you stay silent and you can feel his eyes on you. 

You can hear the shuffle of feet coming closer, and it seems like the group is leaving the bar. You look back at him quickly mouthing a goodbye before heading closer to the exit of the bar the group was leaving out of. He watches you walk away before turning back to head back to Heitor and he’s happy. You spoke to him and you looked at him and he knows that even if you chose to throw a stone at him he’d be glad it’s being thrown by your hands. 

The droplets of water race down your skin as you sit on the bed in nothing but a towel, you're trying to delay getting dressed. You’re afraid the moment you get up to put something on it’ll be clothes to go outside and you’ll end up sneaking out again. Your conversation with Shoyo sparks even more interest in your need to see more of Rio (and him). You brainstorm ideas to get out there without Yume stopping you, you know you absolutely cannot sneak out again and you can’t outwardly say that you’re going out because someone would have to tag along. 30 minutes pass and you pick your phone up to message Yume that you think you might have dropped something in the lobby and you're going back down to get it. That small luck of yours seems to walk a little bit closer to you again as she doesn't even ask what you had dropped in the lobby. Getting dressed quickly and ensuring you're properly disguised you head down to the lobby, your phone in one pocket of your shorts and your portuguese language book in your left hand. 

You head back to the same bar he was at the night before and today looking around for him, the sun was lowering down into the sea and you hoped that maybe he’d be here around this time. Taking a few more glances around with no sign of Shoyo, you cross the street to the other side above the beach and you can see the familiar ginger hair closer to the shore talking to the same large man he was playing with earlier. He’s waving to the man as he walks away from Shoyo heading in another direction. He on the other hand walks in your direction, looking around casually before he spots a figure dressed in unusual clothing for the weather once again and you can see a smile growing on his face, he begins to shout your name in excitement before stopping himself, slapping a hand over his mouth and instead running closer to you. He stops by the wall and looks up at you, you look back at him before walking away from his sight. 

In a second you hear deep breaths and footsteps coming closer before he appears beside you, 

“Hi, what are you doing here?” He bites his lower lip to stop his smile from growing even more, his legs slowing down from the quick sprint he just did to reach you. 

“I want to see Rio.” You look at him as you both continue to walk side by side. 

He can’t fight the smile any longer “Okay!” 

He’s a little out of breath, his Adam's apple bobbing everytime he takes a breath and his shoulders look heavy. The hair by the nape of his neck is dark and damp from his sweat and his shirt is clings to his body.

“Let me get changed from my apartment. It's not too far, want to come?” 

You nod your head, a little excited to see what you could see just from the walk to his place and perhaps the fact you’ll get a proper look of Shoyo’s life without you in the past few years. 

“Do you have a roommate?” Your voice lacked any harshness from when you had spoken to him this morning. “Yes his name is Pedro, he’s super cool and he likes one piece too. He’s still in school so I don’t know if he’ll be there— crap I hope he's not home.” 

“Why? Don't you like him?”

“Yes.” He fiddles with the strap of his small gym bag hanging behind his back. “He’s a huge fan of yours.” 

“Oh, is my disguise good enough.” He lets out a small laugh at your question and watches as you toggle with the sunglasses perched upon your nose. “Yes but he’ll probably wonder who I’m bringing into the apartment. I’ve never had anyone over before, he’ll be so confused.” 

You feel a bit ashamed over the slight relief you just got that he hadn’t had anyone over in his time here but all you do is nod. 

 Entering the apartment you had raced out of only yesterday morning seemed much different now, now that you could actually take in everything around you. It was a simple apartment, tidy and if you squint hard enough little pieces of Shoyo’s two years here were evident. He’s got an old–almost deflated volleyball in the corner of the living room and a bottle of soy on the table. There's another clothing rack near the apartment's window with beach shorts lying on it soaking in the setting sun. You follow him into his bedroom as he sets down his bag by the door. 

“I'll shower real quick, don’t worry I won’t take too long!” 

You nod at him once more, watching as he disappears from his room to head to the bathroom. It hits you for the upteenth time that it's been years since you've seen each other, and the broadness of his shoulders isn’t a hallucination but another piece of evidence that Shoyo travelled across the globe and did nothing but work hard. 

His room is now covered in rays of pinks and oranges and you look around at the room you almost went crazy over the day before and even in the shadows casted from the setting sun you can still see that Shoyo is still your Shoyo, the one you knew all those years ago. 

He’s got a stash of one piece manga on his little shelf and volleyball magazines stacked up beside it on the floor. The jacket on the clothing rack hangs down and you look away before the nights of poorly tossing him balls all those years ago invade your thoughts. 

Your toes wiggle from the cold feeling of the floor, a huge contrast from the warm beads of sand you felt last night. You walk slowly taking in his life from the past two years here before taking a seat on the edge of his bed. The sun has almost finished setting and in about 10 minutes you’ll probably be sitting in the dark. 

You reach for the lamp on the nightstand, flicking the switch for some light and right under the base of the lamp, something catches your eye. You see yourself, smiling gently, the other person in the picture covered by the base of the lamp. Pulling the picture from under it, you stare at the picture, specifically the person right beside you. And of course that smile that shines brighter than the sun is on his face and the memory of that night pops back into your head. It was a little after practice had ended late, the six of you walking along the sidewalk to go home. You can remember the way Yamaguchi's fingers fiddled with the phone he had just recently got after the last broke from an incident during practice a few days before. He had only wanted to test the camera of the phone but he’d caught a picture, important enough that Shoyo got it printed out and took it with him even across the globe. 

He’s smiling brightly, his arms raised in the air, one hand holding your bookbag (which you're sure knocked him in the head right after the picture was taken) and the other holding a meat bun. And there you stood right beside him, a soft smile on your face, your eyebrows slightly raised from the sudden photo taking and Shoyo’s flying arms. You can almost feel yourself getting overwhelmed with emotions at the picture but you hold back anything that might overspill and put the picture back down onto the nightstand before Shoyo walks back into the room. 

He’s got a shirt on that's way too tight to your eyes, his biceps training against the fabric of his short sleeves as he uses the towel hung around his neck to dry off his hair. He’s got a simple pair of cargo shorts on, his built calves contracting as he walks further into the room. 

“Wanna get something to eat before?” He continues to use the towel to lazily dry his wet hair, both his hands shuffling around his head. You try your best to ignore the way his shirt rises up a little and look at him. “Before what?” 

A wide grin overcomes his face, “It’s a surprise!” 

You wonder if you should just go back to the hotel and save yourself a fright, you trust Shoyo (as much as you like to act like you don’t) and you know he wouldn’t take you anywhere that’ll scare you or anything but he’s also very much so full of surprises and you’re afraid you might end up skydiving off the top of a mountain. 

You sigh a little, the room is mostly dark, only the lamp on the nightstand adds some light to the room, and you start to feel a little warm. The weight of the bed shifts a little as he plops himself down beside you on the bed, the small light illuminating his face a little that you can see the little shadows casted by his eyelashes on his cheek. You can feel yourself getting warmer, this feels too intimate yet you can’t bring yourself to get up and move away from him. 

You turn your head a bit more to properly face him, his hair a bit damp and dark from his shower but his shoulders look much more relaxed than when he ran up to you from the beach, you wonder if he’s starting to feel the same way as you are easing into company that he was once so familar with years ago. 

“Sure, we can eat— but we can’t go to that bar that we went to today,” You hurriedly tell him. 

“Topo Do Barril?” 

You smile a little. He’s gotten so good at the language you feel a little bashful at his ability to easily spill portuguese out of his mouth so effortlessly. You nod, clasping your hands and resting them between your thighs. 

“Today, when you saw me outside, I was kind of hiding from the man who owns the bar,” You feel a little shy telling him what you did before you ended up running into him that night but he just looks at you completely interested in whatever you have to say and you can almost hear his laughter that you know is coming, “When I snuck out, that’s the first place I went to— I bought a beer there but he would have recognized me from the night before from the way I was dressed and I was afraid he’d bring it up somehow and then Yume would find out and kill me.” 

And there it is, the sound that always had you feeling a little bit warmer when you heard it. 

“Seriously?” He laughed. 

“Yes! It’s so not funny,” You slap his thigh, biting back a smile, “He literally has a poster of me in the bar!” 

His laughter slows down a little and a bright smile is left on his face, “I would’ve loved to see how your assistant would react to a random man at a bar recognizing you.” 

You huff at his amusement of your dilemma. 

“Come on! I want us to eat on time before we get there.” He exclaims jumping off the bed before he extends his hand towards you to lift you off the bed. The warmth from his hand envelops your fingers and you pull away quickly as you follow him to the front door of the apartment. 

The rough feeling of the concrete sidewalk has your flips flops scraping against the rough surface, as the cool breeze passes the two of you.  It's darker now and youve hung your mask on to your left ear to breathe freely while leaving your cap on your head. You glance to your right as Shoyo is talking about something you're not really sure you caught any of. His hair ruffles from the wind and your eyes follow his arm that reaches up to brush back his hair.

“Your hair.” 

He stops talking to look at you as you walk side by side. 

“It’s short.” 

“Yeah, I cut it when I came here, ‘s too hot to have it as long like before.” He brushes back his hair once again from the wind. 

“I liked it when it was longer,” His eyes widened a bit, a blush threatening to creep up, he knew you liked how long his hair was in your 3rd year, he didn’t think you’d remember that fact about yourself, “But it’s still cute at this length.” A silly smile on your face has the tips of his ears red and his cheeks hot and before you know it Shoyo’s on the floor, failing to see a small hole in the ground— completely enamoured by you, latching to the straps of his right sandal sending him to the ground. 

“Oh my God, Shoyo!” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth in shock, he’s lying on his back, as you crouch down to him. He can feel himself getting hot from your hands resting on his bicep, one of them moving away from his bicep to his forehead to push his hair back and comb through his strands to get any dirt out. 

“Are you— are you okay?” You giggle under your breath as you watch an enormous grin break out on his face before he’s shaking with laughter. 

“You scared me, gosh.” Murmuring as you slap his arm lightly, “Get up, your shirt will get dirty.” He lifts his back off the ground, as his arms hold him from behind, he’s got a more serious expression on his face now as he leans closer into you. 

“Shoyo, are you really okay?” Your eyebrows scrunched together in concern as you reach out for him to sit him up straight without having him support himself. His body leans more into you and you can feel his hair tickle your neck when his head falls on to your shoulder. 

“Shoyo.” 

“It hurts so bad.” 

“Shoyo what hurts, should we go to a hospital?” A sniffle leaves him from your frantic tone. 

“My head hurts.” He moves his head from the junction of your shoulders resting on your collarbone to look up at you properly, watching your worried expression replaced by a deadpan face. 

“You fell back on your ass.” You get up from your crouching position to stand above him, resting your hands on your hips, “I seriously thought you’d hurt yourself.” 

He quickly rises from the floor, brushing off his shorts, “My back hurts!” 

“Pay attention to where you’re going next time.” You hide your smile as you walk away from him slowly, waiting for him to catch up and as always he does. 

“I was distracted.” He huffed out. You ignore the warm feeling coming over your senses, choosing to ignore his reply. 

“Right there.” He points to the bar he was at earlier in the day. You feel his hand hover over the small of your back as you two hurriedly cross the street to get to the bar. He pulls out the folding wooden chair for you to sit and you take a seat as you watch him call over a waiter, a sense of familiarity between the two’s greetings. He grabs a chair sitting a bit closer to you, his back turned away from the television strung up on the wall. You’d purposely moved to the seat facing away from the television out of consideration that he  might want to watch the game of beach volleyball blaring on the tv, or the neighboring tv playing a football match, leaving the chair facing the television open. 

“Want anything to drink?” 

You ponder a bit, and he watches you take a moment to decide. 

“I do, but what if I run into Mr. Iwasaki.” 

“What about him?” His head tilts in interest. 

Damn 

“I told him and his team I don’t drink.” You murmur almost shamefully before the man beside you laughs out. 

“You?” Giggles leave his lips as you roll your eyes. 

“Yes! I’m a model, I can’t go around drinking like that.” 

He gives you a knowing look enough to remind you of your actions the day before, you shrug with a soft smile. 

“Want a beer? You can get something with little alcohol so you don’t get lost around here again.” “I can’t get lost if you’re with me.” You nod, pushing your cap down more to secure it. 

“One beer, just one! You have to be sober for where we’re going.” 

“Gosh you’re acting like if I have a second one I'll be falling off the rails.” You mutter as he calls the waiter over asking for a beer and a lemonade. 

“One sip of soju used to have you completely off the rails.” He chuckles at the frown on your face. 

“That’s so not true!” 

“Is too.” 

“Is not.”  

He’s still chuckling at your denial before picking up the laminated menu resting carelessly on the table in front. 

“Hungry?”

“Mhm.” You continuously nod as you look at the menu he's holding in front of the two of you, your bodies leaning into each other to read the menu. 

“What do you usually get here?” Your head turns to look at him, and your breath hitches a little from the close proximity you were oblivious to the whole time. He turns his head to answer you, seemingly unfazed at how close you are to him, and for a split second his eyes glance down to your lips before going back to your eyes, the action completely unnoticed by you. 

“Churrasquinho, it’s super good!” He nods excitedly. He can feel the tips of ears getting pink from the simple fact that you’re here with him, experiencing what he has in the past few years. All those times wishing he could share certain moments with you were coming closer to becoming a reality. 

“Okay. I’ll have that.” 

He calls the waiter over again, ordering for the two of you, once again Portuguese falling effortlessly from his lips and you can hear it in his voice and the smile on his voice as he speaks to the waiter that Brazil has treated him well. 

“It’ll take like 10 minutes, so we can eat quickly and go soon.” His attention turns back to you. 

“Where are you taking me.” You ask quickly after he speaks hoping that he’d answer off the bat. 

“We’re going to the Fe– don’t do that!” 

“I just want to know…what if I don’t like it.” Edging him to slip up and tell you. 

“I know you will.” 

You open your mouth to dispute, but your words fall flat and you wonder how often he thought of you to be so confident that you’ll like where he’s taking you. And you believe him 100% percent because he’s always known you and you know deep down even one-hundred years apart from him would not take away the care he has for the people he cares about. 

--

He watches as your eyes widen, under the shade of the cap taking in the action before you. The street is lit with lamps and lanterns and fire, with tents of foods and art travelling all around. 

“What’s this?” Turning to him as you take in his orange-hued features from the lights casting a glow on him.

“Festival Noturno Criativo.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, feeling his nervousness increasing little by little. “You’ve always liked night festivals.”

It’s simple but you’re a bit speechless that he’s still making it his goal that you enjoy experiences outside of work. 

“I have always liked them.” The corners of your lips turn slightly upwards as you look at the bright festival in front. You can hear laughter and chatter over the loud festival music. 

“Come on!” He gestures for the two of you to walk into the maze of art and cuisine of Rio. Walking side by side you look around you taking in the smell of skewered meat on grills and the sound of oil sizzling from another tent. You move closer to Shoyo as people walk through the pathways, until you decide to latch your hands on to his arms to avoid losing each other in the crowd. 

“Wanna shop for something?” He moves close to your ear, earning an excited nod from you. You continue to walk past different booths, some with exciting and bold pieces of jewellery while others showcased paintings dripping with the vibrant culture of Brazil. 

Your eyes land on a woman’s booth with various ceramic pieces lying about. Titling your head towards a piece you move closer to Shoyo’s ear so he can hear you over the music and chatter in the back. 

“I like those.” 

He follows your line of sight to two mugs, red flowers littering the outside with dark green leaves and a funky swirl for the handle. They're cute and a bit wonky but the image of you drinking happily from one of them has him reaching for his wallet in his left pocket. He walks up to the woman, his hand on the small of your back lightly easing you in the direction of the woman. 

“Olá, quanto custa um desses copos, por favor” [Hi, how much for one of those cups please?] He points to the mugs you’ve been eyeing. 

She’s polishing a vase before she looks to where Shoyo’s pointing, “236 reais.” 

You watch Shoyo converse with the woman as he pulls out a few bills from his pocket, you look for a moment to see the woman only packaging one and you shake Shoyo’s arm gently to catch his attention. 

“Get them both! Get one for yourself.” You pull the short sleeve of his shirt as he pauses for a moment and then answers with a nod. He turns back to the woman asking for the other, and reaching back for his wallet to pay. He carefully folds the receipt from the woman and places it in his wallet, his eyes burning into the card pocket he placed it in. He’ll keep it forever. 

He's holding the small paper bag with the two ceramic cups carefully packaged as the two of you continue to walk through the festival. He’s hoping you’ll hold his arm again but at the realization that you both had moved on to an area with less people, he internally sulked. It seemed as if he couldn't hide his disappointment well as you noticed a small pout on his lips, maybe it was his bottomless stomach reacting to the aroma of all the foods around after walking around for two hours.

“Are you hungry?” Stopping to ask him, hoping that he’d crack a small smile at the mention of something to eat. 

He shook his head as his pout deepened into a frown instead after taking a glance at the time. “It’s 9 already.” 

“Oh.” A small frown of your own matching his and wanting to never see that on your face he gently smiles before calling your name. 

“Let’s get one last thing before we leave, something sweet maybe.” 

He’d bought about 10 of them, at the possibility of you liking them and wanting to take some back home with you. He liked them himself, having to restrict himself from buying anymore when he first came to Rio, they were a quick way to mess up his strict nutrition. 

You’re close to the hotel and you two would part ways much sooner than arriving at the lobby to avoid anyone working there or your coworkers seeing you outside so late, with the man they watched earlier on the beach at that. 

“What did you get?” You peered over at the bag holding the sweets he got for you, the breeze picked up once again as you two walked on the sidewalk, the sound of the waves crashing by the shore, harmonizing with your voices as you spoke. 

“Beijinho de Coco, I can’t wait for you to try them!” 

“Can we have one now before we get there?” 

“You can, but I can’t eat anything like this right now.” 

“Pleaase, Shoyo— let’s share one.” You offered, excited to share the little sweet with him— and well Shoyo’s never been one to deny you of anything that makes you happy, except maybe himself.  

He fishes into the bag to open the plastic container they were placed in and takes one out to break it in half. He gives you the bag to keep with the other 9 of them and you can see the receipt laying under the plastic container. You think you’ll treasure it as if it were a rare pearl.  

“There’s coconut on it!” 

He nods at your exclaim, his cheeks becoming warm as you excitedly take your half from his hands, ready to take a bite. 

“They’re called ‘coconut little kisses’ .” 

You pause for a moment, your gaze shifting to the view of the ocean, a gentle smile on your lips as you take in the last of tonight. 

And under the moon he had been looking at for the past 2 years, you share a coconut little kiss with Shoyo. 

Notes:

They both kept a receipt for keepsakes

The ceramic mug he bought them

Festival Noturno Criativo is fictional

Next chapter

Divider creds: @anitalenia @strangergraphics

© manhattanstrawberry please do not plagiarize or repost my work

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 10

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

The next day, you awake, feeling less foggy but no less tired. Your mother is still in her recliner as you emerge. You put on the coffee as you always do and sit at the table, holding your head as you wait for the grind to finish.

You pour two mugs and go to the living room. You put one down next to your mom and gently nudge her shoulder. Her eyes snap open and her head wobbles before she can lift it. Her hand is trembling as she wipes her eyes and the recliner snaps upright with her movement. She doesn’t say a word as she grabs the cup and drinks.

You both drink in silence, as if you’re both just as confused by the previous day’s passing. The remnants of the heavy slip have you yawning over the brim and eager to brew a second pot. As you refill the filter, the doorbell rings. You mom grumbles noisily.

You hit the start button on the machine and hurry down the hall. As you open the door to Steve, a flash of yesterday washes over you. The memory of him in your room, looking at your sketchbook, intruding...

You shake off the chagrin and clear your sandy throat.

“Morning,” he checks his watch, “not to rush you or anything but just checking in. Seeing when you were planning to pop over.”

You blink. What does he mean? It takes you a moment to remember. Oh, you remember you agreed to help him with the pool. Well, your mother told him you would.

“Is that Steve?” Your mom calls as the recliner creaks. You step aside as she approaches, “ah, hello. Just can’t get enough, huh?”

“Mm, yeah, Holly, remember, we talked about this. The pool?” He smiles and tucks his hands in his pockets.

“Oh yeah, I remember,” she chuckles as she glances over at you, “she needs something to keep her busy. How about I come over, keep an eye on her for you.”

“Well, you don’t have to,” Steve says, “you look tired and you’ve been doing so much these last few days. I wouldn’t want to make anything worse.”

“Oh, this,” she holds up her shaky hand, “all good, honey. Really. I can handle it. Just a part of life. Besides, I need to get some sun, eh?”

“Sure,” Steve agrees as his cheeks tighten, “that’s fine. Well, whenever you’re ready. I’m just getting started now.”

“We’ll be over shortly,” your mother affirms and pets her neck.

Steve nods and turns, striding away without another word. You look at your mom. You really don’t want to go. Still, you can’t say no. She’d never let you live it down. You need the money.

“I’m going to get changed,” you mutter. “Do you want some toast before we go over?”

“I can take care of myself,” she snips and swings the door shut. “I want you on your best behaviour, got it? You’re not going to ruin this for me. Whatever he tells you to do, do it. No faces, just listen.”

“Yes, mom.”

“And...” she leans in your door as you open your dresser, “if me and him happen to wander off, don’t come looking.”

You nod. She huffs and her footsteps carry on into the kitchen. You cross the room and close the door. You turn and peel off your tee shirt. You freeze as you notice the open curtains. You squint as you see a shadow in the window across from yours.

You hold the tee shirt to your chest and rush forward. Nothing. Just the window. You close yours and back up. You’ll wear some leggings you can get dirty and the Gap shirt with the hole near the hem. You’ll just be scrubbing algae or whatever.

🏠

You follow your mom up to Steve’s front door. She knocks and waits, hemming and hawing as she checks her watch. You twiddle your fingers, longing for any excuse to go home.

“Hey,” Steve appears around the side of the house, “just around through the gate.”

“Oh, silly me,” your mother as good as elbows past you as she redirects course.

You trail after her as Steve holds open the gate door, standing just inside it. You brush against him as you enter, unable to avoid it. He shuts it so the clasp clicks and you feel him behind you.

“Figure we’ll start by just sweeping up and getting everything away from the pool,” he explains, then we might have to get down and dirty.” He chuckles and you glance over your shoulder at him. He points to the in-ground pools, “gotta clean inside.”

“Oh, sure.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” your mom remarks, “mmph, I’m just gonna sit.” She grips her hip as she clings to the railing and climbs up onto the deck. She sits at the patio table, under the broad umbrella.

“Right,” Steve claps his hands, “I’ll get you a broom. You start over there, I’ll take the other side and we’ll meet in the middle. How about that?”

“Okay,” you shrug.

He smiles and turns, striding over to the shed and dipping inside. He’s almost too tall for the small doorway. Your mother clears her throat and you look at her, a sharp expression tensing her features. She doesn’t need to speak her thoughts; it’s a warning.

Steve hands you a broom and a pan. You take it and go to the opposite end of the pool. You keep your head down as you start sweeping, gathering the debris into a single pile. You can hear Steve’s bristles scraping closer and closer as you make your way around the perimeter.

“Oh, Steve, honey,” your mom calls out, “could I trouble you for something to drink?”

He stops, only a few feet from you. Sweat dampens the collar of his tee and across his chest. Your own shirt is clinging to your skin as the sun beat down.

“Heh, yeah, it’s pretty hot. How about some lemonade?” He suggests, “hey, sweetie, you want a glass?”

“Um, okay, thanks,” you answer as you put your focus back to the work at hand.

He carries his broom with him and sets it against the railing of the steps. He climbs them and goes through the sliding glass doors. You continue around, adding your dirt pile to his. Your mom wipes her brow as she basks in the shade, fanning herself dramatically.

Steve comes back out with a tray. A pitcher and three glasses sit on it. He pours each as you stand by the debris.

“Come on, have some, should cool off a bit, stay hydrated,” he waves you over.

“Uh,” you look down at the pile.

“I’ll take care of that, you take a break.”

You circle the pool and climb up the steps. You mother struggles to steady her glass as you take your own. As you sip, Steve heads back down and gathers up the debris into a compost bag. He sets that aside and dusts his hands off.

“When you’re ready, I’ll help you down,” he offers as he lowers himself down the ladder.

You nod and gulp down half the glass, setting it down heavily. You mother squints at you, “don’t be lazy.”

You turn away without retort. All you’ve done is what Steve asked.

You go to the ladder and look down into the empty pool. You turn and grab the sides of the ladder, taking it step by step. The clearance is a bit too high for you. Steve approaches you as you hover above the drop.

“Here,” he grabs your hips, “I got you.”

You squeak as he squeezes and you cling to the ladder until you have to let go. He lifts you easily and sets you down, his hands brushing up your sides as he releases you. You quickly part from him, feeling the warmth of his body clouding around you.

“Right, so we just need to scours the sides a bit,” he bends and grabs the end of the hose dangling over the edge. “Got it on the highest setting so if you just want to go around and get the walls. I’m gonna work at scraping off the gross stuff.”

“Kay,” you take the hose from him.

“No cheap shots, okay,” he grins, “well, I don’t think I’d complain for a bit of water.”

You frown at him, not sure what he means. He looks pointed at the hose as you point the nozzle right at him. You drop it and apologise.

“Not worries. Just pull the lever,” he instructs. “And let me know if you need anything. It’s a good day for heat stroke.”

You turn and aim the hose. You spray the wall and much of the grime washes away easily. You get closer, a bit of splash back speckling your arms. You focus on getting every inch, moving diligently along the tile. It’s a big pool. He’ll have a great summer once it’s full.

You feel a grimness in your chest. It feels like all the nice things are meant for everyone else. You shrug it away and keep at it. At least, you’ll get a couple of bucks out of doing the grunt work. It’s no summertime oasis, but it’s better than nothing.

[thesirencult]

A LETTER FROM YOUR FUTURE SELF

Sometimes the golden threads of the past, the present and the future get entangled. We get to look out of the window and witness what lies ahead or, in reverse, we can look from above to the present and past time and re-evaluate the situation we used to be at. May this letter serve as a reminder that there is a version of you down the line which has escaped on the other side of the veil and they are ready to share their wisdom.

You can book your tarot or astrology reading with me by directly messaging me ❤️ Till then, enjoy this general message waiting to find you 🌙

PILE 1

"I was going through albums full of photos, hugs, love, tears and sadness. I know that we've come a long way now. Sometimes I want to forget and other times to remember. There is always this book that I reread over and over again whenever I want to meet you again. It feels so long ago yet it was what? 5 years? 7? Certainly not that long ago. Yet so many things have changed. That book holds so many memories of us. I love you. You are my little teddy bear. I can not comprehend how we made it or how badly people treated you in the past. There is a place in my heart I keep hiding you in. I talk to you constantly in hopes that you will hear me at some point and realize that we are meant for so much more and we will get that. We just have to wake up and break free from the chains and constraints of others. I love you, for all the beautiful moments we spent together and all the times we cried alone on a cold pillow. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Yours forever and ever and ever,

U 🌧️

PILE 2

"When I try to find the words to talk to you I struggle. I don't feel that much of a connection to you. I've changed a lot and I see my timeline as fragmented. I don't feel proud for you but that doesn't mean I resent you. How could I? You brought me here. You were the one who transformed and broke from the pain, but it was a rough time for me and I try to distance myself from addictions and betrayalz.

Anyways, I wanted to let you know that it's done. We are safe. You wake up in the morning feeling calm and rejuvenated. We don't need it anymore. We don't need them anymore. We take joy in the mundane. Don't roll your eyes! Boring is safe and learning to be still in a world that's always moving will help you ground. Stay safe love ❤️

Yours, faithfully.

(I don't even know why this name came out but maybe it resonates with someone, so I will mention it. Ashley.)

PILE 3

"We are free. We found a lover that let's us breathe and we no longer fear our power and beauty.

We no longer feel threatened by others and we don't have to hide our true selves.

I passed by our old house today and I saw mom and pops. They are doing fine. I went by the doghouse of our old pet and I still cry after 10 years without them, but it's okay, we've loved and we kept a piece of them in our hearts. They still visit us in our dreams you know. A friend like that never leaves you.

Our lover is sweet and safe. They are disciplined and a rock for us. We are still tumultuous and unorganized and they can withstand the dark clouds same as they do the sunny days out. They are a champion and they don't find us difficult to love. They marvel in our strength.

You will grow old together and built a few different houses but the home will always be in your hearts.

I remember you all the time. You would be grateful if you stayed. Don't go, we'll get there. Don't leave me please, I don't want to miss my lover and our home. No matter the weather stay.

Yours now and forever.

[xiao-come-home]

stone faced anon (💫 anon if it's free) here; as someone who has a hyperfixation in IT and coding I also think it would be very funny if Boothill had an s/o who wasn't necessarily a mechanic but like a software engineer or just a real big nerd about coding or something. He'll be experiencing a malfunction or a memory leak and go "oh yeah this happens sometimes don't worry about it" and then 10 minutes later he's sitting down plugged into a laptop listening to his s/o rant about how terrible his code is (crack hc: boothill's code was written in javascript) and how it's a wonder he hasn't bricked* yet

Would also be mad funny if Boothill ever got hacked and his s/o basically says "no you're not" and uses a previously made system restore point or something because of course they would both use and design every feature imaginable to keep Boothill in control of his own body, can you imagine the stress that losing control would cause him?? Even better if whoever designed him originally intentionally left a backdoor incase he ever went against their orders and when they try to use it his s/o just goes "oh yeah I quarantined and encrypted all the old files related to that backdoor and whatever else you were planning on a partition as bait and personally rewrote every file and function involved since your code is *an actual crime against technology*. by the way i'm going to go ahead and format that partition i mentioned, boothill- we won't be needing anything on it now that we can trace whoever made it. trust me, this won't be happening ever again."

*(bricking is a term mostly used to refer to hardware that's been rendered basically completely nonfunctional and beyond saving by using it wrong, mostly by messing with system files. Kinda like how windows can't even repair itself if you delete the system32 folder. Though i guess you could still install it with a usb stick if you formatted your pc- i digress you get what I mean. also since this almost happened to me recently: if you manage to fill up a hard drive to the brim, with literally 0 bytes of space left, that bricks it. reminder to check your storage thoroughly and often!)

Honestly wow I read it all and I'm a little bit speechless 🥹 thank you 💫 anon, it was great 🙏

Boothill would DEFINITELY appreciate a s/o who's a tech savvy in general! I think at some point, he'd be pretty shocked you're so knowledgeable and just sit there, listening to you rant.. and just letting you do your thing.

Don't get me wrong, he definitely knows a lot about his body, his system and the way he works, but once you start to get in the zone and explain stuff to him, berate his code even, he just sits next to you, plugged in to your laptop, leaning his cheek against his hand listening to you like he obviously understands everything you say.

His other hand begins to gently play with a stand of your hair, humming deeply when the soft clicking sounds of your keyboard reach his ears; he twirls your hair with his fingers and chuckles, "mmm, really now?" Boothill raises an eyebrow, "encryptin' this, encryptin' that... How about we do somethin' more fun instead?" And then you shut him down from your laptop (😭).

Jokes aside, he'd feel very secure with you especially when he first got his new body, just knowing you'll probably fix a lot of things that could possibly blow up his face in no time, maybe even improve his life even more.

[back2bluesidex]

Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 2 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, SMUT (MDNI) (not in this chapter)

Warnings: Mentions of school bullying, Hoseok is so attractive (this chapter is basically me simping over Hoseok), Reader is insecure.

Word count: 4.4k

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: The chapter starts with JK's pov and changes into the reader's but it's nothing too tough to understand. I hope you guys like it. Please hit me up on askbox and let me know how is it.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:- 

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

His eyes drift towards the window. 

What time should it be now? 10 am? 11 am? He doesn’t know. Not that he is in a rush for anything. There is absolutely no haste to disappear before prying cameras sneak into his private space. 

He should be at peace, a weird tranquility that is supposed to be easy. But deep down Jungkook is very much unsettled. 

As he eyes the wide blue sky out of Jiwon’s bedroom window, his mind reels back to you. The last day he saw you, the way you were standing with a ring in your hands, the way he broke your heart and the way you marched out of his life with merely a goodbye. You didn’t ask him why he fell out of love with you, nor were you curious enough about what made him fall in love with another woman. 

“What does she have that I don’t? Why can’t I be enough for you? How can you be so cruel?” These are the words Jungkook expected to hear from you when he dropped the bomb. But instead he heard you wishing him a good life and walking away from him without a single complaint. 

Were you always ready for the blow? Were you preparing yourself to let him go? He can’t tell. But no matter how much he tries he can’t stop wondering what you are upto now. How have you been spending your nights or how are you coping up with the pain he has provided you with?

Jiwon scoots her body closer to Jungkook’s. Her nose brushes on his forearm. Jungkook freezes. Is he really thinking of you lying awake in his new girlfriend’s bed after breaking up with you for the same woman?

He is being unfair to both of you and Jiwon. 

His eyes close on their own accord. 

When he opens those again, Jiwon is already smiling up at him. 

“Good Morning, handsome.” she says sweetly. 

“It’s almost noon, I believe.” Jungkook chuckles, turning on his side, facing Jiwon fully. 

“Really? Then we better leave the bed now. You can wash up while I make coffee for you.” Jiwon kisses on his cheek as she sits up. 

“No. It’s fine. I have to leave.” Jungkook sits up too. 

“Why? You don’t have any schedule today. Do you?” Jiwon pouts. 

“Not really. Actually.. my house is a mess and I wanted to clean up before I get busy.” Jungkook reasons. 

“We can eliminate these problems, you know?” Jiwon holds his hand, looking a little shy and sheepish. 

“Umm? I didn’t get you?”  Jungkook is confused. He has no idea what his new girlfriend has to suggest for his house chore. 

“I mean… Why don’t we move in together? It will be easy for both of us. We can take turns on the chore and spend more time together when both of us are free? What do you say?” Jiwon’s eyes are full of hope. But Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. 

“I- Jiwon, I think it’s too early. We will have to talk to the agency as well.” Jungkook runs a hand through his already disheveled hair. 

“Why will we have to talk to the agency? They already know about us. All we need to do is to inform them once we are ready.” Jiwon holds his hand tighter. 

That’s the thing. Jungkook is not ready yet. Your words ring in the back of his head.  

“Home? You mean the apartment you left because your agency said it’s risky to share a space with your girlfriend of three years? The same place you refused to meet at because paparazzi are keeping tabs on you as you are rumored to be dating someone else?”

He sighs. 

Yes, he loves Jiwon but he doesn’t know if he is ready to share a space with her yet. Especially when he left you behind in the excuse of his career and prying paparazzies. 

Jungkook concludes that it’s his guilt that is resisting him from going too far with Jiwon just yet. So he decides to wait, to take a little time to think more deeply about what he actually wants, not what he wants to want for the sake of his girlfriend. 

“Jiwon, I don’t want to rush anything. We can take it slow and understand each other better before moving in. Let’s give each other a little more time, okay?” He says with a tight lipped smile. 

Jiwon’s face falls a bit but she nods in understanding. 

“You must admit, the guardian of your new counselee is too hot.” Miseon mumbles as she chews down a spoonful of bibimbap, “he seems quite young too. Must have gotten married to his high school sweetheart or something?” 

You narrow your eyes at her, “If you are trying to dig down his personal information then let me remind you that-”

“Yeah. Yeah I know. Confidential information and all. I was just curious. I mean usually both of the parents or mothers visit with their children. It’s probably the first time I saw only the dad coming in, that too, looking like a snack.” Your friend looks up at you with a quizzical gaze as if she wants you to validate what she just commented. 

Yes. Hoseok is certainly hot and attractive. But what gripped you more is the way he is determined to be a good father to Sua, despite the complicated fatherhood he faced. The concerned look on his handsome face flashes in your mind.  

“Y/N?” Hoseok calls your name as he stands up from his seat, getting ready to leave your cabin. 

“Yes?” you respond. 

“Sua.. she will be fine, right?” If you are not wrong then you hear Hoseok’s voice trembling a bit.

“I will be able to answer that after two more sessions I suppose.” you smile apologetically. 

“Yeah. Yeah of course. I am sorry. I- I am just very worried.” His eyes drop to stare at the floor. 

“Which is only natural. There is no need to apologize.” You voice. Pausing a little bit, you continue, “Sua seems to be more mature than the kids of her age. She is quite closed up as well. So, it is possible for her to hide some sort of things she is going through. I need to win her trust first to let her open up to me but-” 

“But?” Hoseok grows impatient.

“But that is going to take some time. Especially because I don’t think she liked me. She might refuse to come back for the next session.”  You place carefully. 

“Then? What do you suggest doing in that case?” Hoseok questions. 

“I suggest outdoor therapy. Spending time with the counselee and their guardians in a place they like to visit together occasionally or frequently. And I also suggest Friday afternoons for counseling. Kids tend to be in a better mood and far more approachable when they are in their pre-weekend glory.” Your suggestion seems to put Hoseok at ease. “You already have my number. You can text me the place and time once you decide. Although I prefer the slot after lunch.” 

He nods, “Great then. I will see you on Friday… after lunch.” 

Hoseok’s dark eyes bores into yours once again as he steps towards you.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” he extends one of his veiny hands. 

You slip your hand into his, intertwining the muscles in a shake, “Likewise, Hoseok.”  

Miseon claps her hands in front of your face, shaking you out of the thoughts of Mr. Jung, “Hey mate! Where are you so lost?” 

“What? Yeah? Sorry, I was… thinking something.” you reply, jabbing your spoon in your bowl of bibimbap. 

“No. Don’t tell me you were lost in the thoughts of your douchebag ex-boyfriend.” Your friend regards you with fake anger in her eyes. 

“Ugh no! It was completely different.” you groan. Now that you realize, it’s probably the first time since your breakup that you have gone so long without having to let Jungkook’s thoughts seep inside your head. Meeting the Jungs was one thing but to keep on thinking of them even after they left your work place hours ago, is a completely different matter.  

And it’s a very welcoming change.

You sigh, “Don’t call him douchebag. He is not that bad.” 

Miseon’s eyes go wide at your response, “What is wrong with you? He left you for another girl, Y/N! How can you defend him like this?” 

You sigh, closing your eyes, “I am not defending him, Miseon. Some things are not just meant to be, you know? No matter how much time you invest, some relationships are not meant to last. Just like you can’t help falling in love with someone, you can’t help falling out as well. And he fell out of love with me, he found someone more suitable for him. What’s wrong with that? I should appreciate him that he at least didn’t go behind my back and cheat on me. Yeah, whatever Jungkook did, did not hurt me any less but that does not make him a bad person. Everyone deserves to be happy, be loved, be in love… so does he. I just- I just need to accept it.” Saying these words out loud really lightens your heart. Maybe today can be the first step towards your healing, just as you thought at the beginning of the day. 

“But what about your happiness? What about you being loved, being in love?” Miseon places her question. 

“I don’t really know. At this point I don’t even know if I deserve to be loved or not. Maybe there is something wrong with me, isn’t that the reason none of my relationships were successful?” You smile at her with eyes full of tears. 

“Cut the crap. You- I will strangle you to death if you say stuff like this ever again.”  Miseon jerks a fork in your direction making you laugh a little.

“Calm down, you angry woman.” you joke but your heart still feels heavy beyond measure.

Everything about weekdays is fine.. Apart from the fact that you have to come back to a huge and lonely home. 

It’s Wednesday and you sigh at the thought of entering your condo with absolutely nothing waiting for you. The thought burdens you, saddens you and you almost feel jealous of the newly married couple who just moved in last week. 

You punch the key-code in, which is, by the way, your and Jungkook’s birthdates combined. 

Placing the bag of groceries, you take a seat on the couch. The soft material soothes your aching back right away. You lean your head on the headrest, stare down at the cream-colored cloth of the couch, and caress it lightly as if caressing fragile memories. 

“Jungkook! What is wrong with you?” you sigh in resignation, throwing your purse on the couch.  

“Nothing.” He replies heading straight to the kitchen. 

“Don’t avoid it. You have been sulking all the way home. Did I offend you somehow?” you head towards your boyfriend. 

Jungkook chugs down water, crushes the plastic bottle and disposes of it in the trashcan so ferociously that you can’t help but be more and more amused with each passing moment. 

The moment he is about to exit the kitchen, you come and stand in front of him, “Jungkook, what is it?” 

Jungkook takes in a sharp inhale, avoiding his eyes from yours. 

“Who was that guy?” His voice is low, decorated with a buzz that suggests his annoyance.  

“Which guy?” There were a lot of guys at your reunion party and you don’t know which one Jungkook saw. Especially because he was waiting at the exit inside the car. 

“The one that saw you off with a hug.” He grits these words through his teeth. 

“O-Oh.. that’s Taeho, one of my batch mates. We used to be really close.” you gulp at the face Jungkook is making at your response.

“Really close huh? Is that why he hugged you so intimately? Wrapping up your waist, burying his entire fucking face on your neck? Just like a lover would? Just like I would?” 

Jungkook is jealous. And jealous Jungkook is not a good news. So you clear your voice as you choose your words carefully. 

“I admit that he was a little touchy. But he has always been like this with everyone. I promise, Jungkook, he didn’t have any other intention.” you reply calmly. 

“Really? Are you sure?” your boyfriend starts backing you up on the kitchen counter and soon you feel the cold countertop through the material of your dress. 

“Yes. hundred percent.” Jungkook’s tattooed arm comes to rest on one of your cheeks. 

“Good.” his body presses onto yours. “You know I love you, right? I am sorry for my behavior earlier. I just can’t see you with anyone else. What if they steal you from me?” Jungkook’s expression softens and an adorable pout takes over his lips. 

You giggle a little, “I know. And you, too, should know that nobody can take me away from you unless you give up on me.” 

“I am never gonna give up on you.” whispering these words, Jungkook brings his lips to yours. Locking two pairs of the soft pillowy muscles as if to seal the deal. 

A lone tear rolls down your cheek as you stare at the kitchen counter at present. Jungkook gave up on you and your love so easily, so fast and so readily that you didn’t even get the chance to ask him why and how. He looked so dejected the moment you pulled out the ring, that you had to take a step back out of embarrassment. You felt like you were throwing yourself at him when he was not at all willing to look at you properly. 

You are about to reach for the tissue box kept on the coffee table but you feel your work phone buzzing inside your coat pocket. It’s a text from an unknown number, probably from one of your new patients. 

“Hi.” “Seodaemun Children Park, Friday, 3:30 pm.”  “- Jung Hoseok.” 

If you are excited for an outdoor therapy, then you are not showing it on your face and absolutely not with your dress. 

You decided to keep it casual with a pair of denim boyfriend jeans and a lavender-colored knitted top. You check your face a little before getting out of your car. You look fine. Not that you want to look extra pretty or something, it’s just that you don’t want to convey your internal troubles through your face. 

A gush of fresh wind hits you as soon as you step out of the stuffy interior of your car. And you are smiling, without even noticing. 

You decide to take a moment to admire the beauty of fall, the light chill in the wind and the dimmed sun heading in the west. Maybe Miseon was right. You should have taken a walk around your neighborhood instead of drowning yourself in bottles of Soju back in the days of your pity party. 

Sighing to yourself, you pull out your phone from your purse to call Mr. Jung. 

He receives it just after the first ring. 

"Hello, Mr. Jung. This is Dr. Y/N. I have arrived at the park." You speak into the device. 

"Hey, Y/N. Just walk straight from the entrance and you will see a huge fountain. We are sitting at a bench right beside that." His voice comes out thicker through the speaker of your phone but you can feel the cherriness in it regardless. 

"Okay." You reply briefly as you cut the call.

Unlike you, Mr. Jung has chosen to dress formally. A dark blue three piece suit paired with equally majestic dark Chelsea boots signify an aura of authority in him. The attorney badge, sitting right on his suit, makes him look even sexier all together. He sits cross-legged, a sight that could take anyone's breath away. 

You stare at him from a distance, unable to keep your eyes off of the man for some mysterious reasons. However, you compose yourself before it's too late and look around for Sua. 

She's on the seesaw. She has her signature pigtails with adorable pink bows matching her pink dress perfectly. But the best thing is, she's smiling widely, which makes her look so damn cute. This father-daughter duo could kill people with their looks alone. 

You start walking towards Mr. Jung but Sua sees you before him. Her expressions turn somber as she registers you walking towards her dad. 

"Mr. Jung." You breathe out, standing beside the bench.

"Y/N." He stands up and greets you with the most beautiful smile you have ever had the opportunity to witness. And suddenly you find it hard to breathe.  

"I thought you agreed to call me by my name, which is Hoseok, in case you don't remember." He teases you with a playful grin.

Your cheeks hit up with embarrassment "Ah, yeah. I'm sorry. I tend to be forgetful. But I didn't forget your name, Hoseok." 

"That's good. I would have been seriously offended if you did." He teases you again, gesturing you to sit beside him.

“How is her mood today?” you question, sitting down beside him while keeping a respectable distance between your bodies. 

“Gloomy as always. But she brightened up as soon as I told her we were going to grab some ice-cream here in the park.” Hoseok replies, staring at Sua. 

“Did you see her face turning grey again as I walked in?”  You continue staring at Sua as she climbs off the seesaw and starts walking towards the bench.

“Umm.. yeah. She is usually very friendly but then again she is not quite herself these days.” Hoseok sighs. 

“Hmm noted.” you mumble. 

“Hey my little girl.” Hoseok coos as Sua runs into his embrace. She pulls his collar with her little hands lowering him down to her level to whisper something in his ear. 

“What is she doing here?” you hear her say. It’s impossible to resist your laugh at this cutely angry baby who is very displeased at your presence. 

“Sua. Where are your manners?” Hoseok scolds her. 

“Hey. it’s alright.” you stop him, without realizing that you have reached for his arm in the process and placed your right hand there. 

Hoseok’s eyes shift towards your hold and you remove your hand as swiftly as possible, mumbling a quick apology.   

“I didn’t mind a bit.” Hoseok whispers. There is an undertone in his voice and again you don’t know what it is. 

You have never been as clueless as you are about Hoseok.

Reading people has always been one of your greatest abilities, even far before you got into psychotherapy. Understanding what’s going inside someone’s head is nothing too hard for you. But with Hoseok it’s different. You feel exposed under his dark gaze when you should be the one to make him feel intimidated with you.  

The way he looks at you, makes you feel like he knows exactly how troubled you are, how lonely you feel and how broken you have become. 

Realizing you have been lost in Hoseok’s eyes for far too long, you avert your gaze to Sua. 

“Hey Sua. Annyeong.” you give her a big smile but she remains unfazed. 

“Annoyeng.” her small voices is sounds whiny. 

You sigh. She is harder to approach than you assumed. 

“You know my friends just ditched me. They went shopping without telling me that they had changed their plans. I was feeling so down, so I called daddy and asked him if I could see you.” you can feel Hoseok’s eyes still trained on your profile. 

“Really? Your friends went without you?” from her voice you know she relates. And that is the main reason why you chose this lie. 

“Yup. But it’s alright if you don’t want me to be here. I will-” You start standing up faking to leave the park. 

Sua cuts you off, “No. You can be here.” 

Great. That’s what you wanted all along, “Really? I can?” 

She nods. 

Your eyes divert to Hoseok again, who is staring at you with amusement in his eyes. 

“Then do you want to go swinging with me?” You ask the little girl pointing towards the pair of swings a little far away. 

She looks at Hoseok for permission and when he gives her an affirmative sign, she mumbles a little yes. So you extend your hand towards her, hold her and walk her towards the swing. 

“You know, I used to be so afraid of swings when I was little.” you are staring at the ground but you can feel Sua’s eyes at you. 

“Why?” she asks. You feel a sense of accomplishment as she is finally interacting with you. 

“One of my classmates pushed me so hard that I flew off the swing and ended up hurting both of my knees.” You laugh a little, “I didn’t go near swings for a long time after that.”

“And now? You are not afraid of swings anymore?” She stops her swing rendering it out of motion. Her full concentration is on you. 

“No. I grew up so tall. See.” You show yourself off by expanding your legs.

“So.. when I grow up tall I won’t be afraid of Jaemin anymore?” she looks up at you, her expression is filled with fear. You know you need to be more careful from here. 

“Umm.. that depends on why you are afraid of Jaemin. Is he… your classmate?” you speak softly. 

Sua diverts her attention to her shoes, kicking dirt and avoiding looking into your eyes. She stays silent for a moment and you don’t push her to talk. 

“Yes. He- he is a bad boy.” her soft voice quivers. 

Another case of school bullying. Most of the teenagers you counsel are either a victim of school bullying or an unhealthy domestic atmosphere. But this is the first time you are counseling a kid so small troubled with bullying. Usually kids of Sua’s age are more likely to tease each other over small things but bullying is a complex concept. Hence, counselling Sua may not be an easy task. 

“Does he annoy you a lot?” you place carefully enough so that you don’t trigger her unintentionally. 

“Yes.” her eyes are still trained on her shoes. 

Nodding to yourself, you decide not to push the conversation any further. Sua already looks down enough and you don’t want to ruin her Friday afternoon any more.  

“Sua, what do you like more, chocolate or vanilla? I like chocolate more.”  You say, trying to brighten up her mood. 

Her expression changes within a heartbeat, “Me too. Me too. I like chocolate a lot.”    

“Then should we have some ice-cream?”  you extend your hand towards her. 

This time Sua doesn’t wait for her father’s confirmation, she grabs your hand as you two hop off the swings and walk towards Hoseok, who is currently busy on the phone. 

He smiles up at both of you as he speaks into his phone, “No. not tonight. I am busy. I’ll call you later.” and he cuts the call. 

That sounded pretty much like the cancellation of a booty-call but whatever it is, it’s not your business. 

“Hey you girls. Did you guys have fun?” he asks, taking Sua into his embrace again. 

“Yes. We did. Right sua?” you giggle. 

Sua nods giggling back. 

“But daddy, you promised to buy me ice-cream, why haven’t you bought it yet?”  she pouts adorably and you giggle again. 

“Pabo! It would have melted.” Hoseok laughs at her daughter. 

“Oh. That’s right.” Sua exclaims, wondering hard. Even before you know it, you are laughing out loud. A fit of laughter escapes your throat at the cuteness of this father-daughters duo. The frequency of your laughter increases when two of them join you. Suddenly you realize it’s been an embarrassingly long time since you have laughed this loud, this freely, this genuinely. Suddenly, you feel good, you feel free. 

“Do you think there’s something to be seriously worried about?” Hoseok asks, walking you towards your car. Sua fell asleep right after having a bowl full of ice-cream. Hoseok tugged her into a blanket and put her into the car seat before walking you to yours. 

“It will be too early for me to say anything but I will get there soon. She is a kid after all, I can’t rush with her. I can’t dig into her fears unless she is comfortable enough. That will do more harm.” You come to stand in front of your car. 

Hoseok nods. 

“Yes. You’re right.” he murmurs. 

You swear to all the gods above there, they really took time to craft this man. His sharp jawline is a perfect contrast to his soft features. His dark brown eyes glint under the setting sun. And in this dimming light, he looks like a dream. 

And maybe you are dreaming because there is no way he is stepping close to you now, raising his hand, bringing it closer to your face and touching you. But then his fingers brushes on the skin of your neck, gently picking something off from it. You feel goosebumps all across your skin and at the same time your face feels like it’s on fire, bazing red and hot. 

Fuck. You are deprived of touches for so long. 

“Loose thread.” Hoseok whispers. 

“O-oh. Thanks. This top keeps losing threads.” an useless TMI. 

“It does the job though. You look really pretty.” he whispers again and with that heart-breakingly beautiful smile of his. 

That’s it. You need to run away as soon as possible. 

“Ah, thanks. You are kind. Bye. See you next Friday.” you bow a little. 

He takes a step back without dimming his smile, “Bye. I will be waiting. Drive safe, Y/N.”

You finally find your breath when he turns his back and walks away from you. This is unexplainable, this is not ethically right, you should be heartbroken, and you should stay miles away from stupid feelings but you just can’t stop admiring Hoseok. Currently you are more confused and clueless than you have ever been. And you absolutely don’t know what to do with it.  

Taglist:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo @definetlythinkimanalien @lovelgirl22 @agrika

[helpforintrusivethoughts]

Resources 🌼

(Updated regularly)

🪷 Emergency resource: oh no I’m having a bad thought

🌻 Apps and Games

Finch: mental health app where you care for a little bird! Offers many features such as focus timers, rant zones, nature sounds, fun questions, and more! You can even make friends on it and send them encouragement :) (my friend code)

Adorable Home: a precious game in which you have a tiny spouse, cats, and a little house you can decorate! You can check in and enjoy peaceful music, different scenes, and upgrades through collecting tiny hearts you earn through easy tasks! A truly adorable and relaxing game!

Seashine: a game set underwater in which you guide a tiny luminescent jellyfish through the abyss. Beautiful, relaxing music and distant whale noises; some scary enemies, so if you have thalassophobia this might not be the one for you. Very calming otherwise though, and the creator is coming out with an enemy-free version soon in which you can just float around to the music!

Cat Snack Bar: an adorable app where you operate different business venues with the help of chubby, adorable cats! You check in periodically to collect money and update your venue, but otherwise it doesn't require much brain power. A very cute game to help you relax!

Webtoon: a comic app that allows you to browse thousands of creative and often relaxing webcomics!

1010!: a fun little game where you match up blocks. Fairly simple and satisfying, and you can update your backgrounds to fun designs!

Papa's Cupcakeria: a relaxing and satisfying game where you make cupcakes! And of course there’s a whole series of games in the Papa Louie universe to choose from that are fun and happy :)

🪸 Fun Websites

Neal.fun: features many creative pages you can visit such as— a stack of movable rocks, a page that shows how deep the ocean really goes, who was alive [insert year], draw logos from memory, and more!

WindowSwap: lets you go through windows around the world! You can log in and save your favorites, and make it fullscreen if you need to study and want a nice thing in the background to keep you from distractions.

mrdoob.com: a wacky website with lots of fun features you can draw and mess around with

boredbutton: for when you're bored out of your mind and want a pointless website to mess with!

theuselessweb.com: takes you to a completely useless website, such as a page where it rains corndogs or a page where you can create different forms of art.

ashortjourney.com: lets you take a small and beautifully drawn trip on a trolley and pick up/drop off tiny creatures!

Forestopia: allows you to explore images of forests and the things inside, with background forest noises!

boredpanda.com: full of memes, funny stories, and more!

listverse: contains many lists, some horrifying (so be warned for those) and some just fascinating!

🍄 Focus Sites and Playlists

rainymood.com: a site/app that lets you listen to rain for as long as you want!

asoftmurmur.com: lets you listen to a variety of sounds like rain, thunder, or a fire!

Open ocean: 10 hours of underwater videography of a spot in the ocean!

imissmycafe.com: site that lets you listen to the noises of a coffee shop! You can change the different noises too :)

Secret Forest Playlist: peaceful music; 2 hours

Rain on Leaves on a Forest Road in Autumn: rain in the woods; 10 hours

Haunted Village Halloween Ambience: eerie but quiet music; 3 hours

Relaxing Autumn/Fall Forest: sounds of wind, crows, songbirds, and creaking trees; 7 hours

Chill Beats for Worldbuilding and Writing: Fabulous lofi music; 1 hour

It's Just a Dream/Dreamcore: Very peaceful and ambient music; 4 hours

Autumn Acoustic: Autumn inspired songs; 5 hours

Sad Piano Music: beautiful piano pieces by Jurrivh; 6 hours

The Most Relaxing Waves Ever: beach noises; 8 hours

Rural Autumn Ambience and Music: gentle autumn-y music; 1 hour

Yanni: a playlist of beautiful word-free music by Yanni

pov- you're a pirate: a pirate-themed playlist for inspiration

soft music for the end of the world: soft instrumental pieces

autumn: Autumn-themed songs; 5 hours

Have your own recommendations? Drop a comment or ask!

[chipthekeeper]

ANDOR: 100 days to go. 100 things I love.

it's kind of wild how easy it is to come up with a hundred things to love about this show and still feel like I've left out sooooo much stuff (mostly serious stuff)(and other people's faves)

but here it is, in the order it all popped into my head (aside from the end)

lesbians

2. silly hats

3. weird little freaks

4. window motif!!

5. vel's puppy dog face

6. cinta veeeery nearly laughing at cassian trying to flirt with her

7. skeen's skrunkle face

8. taramyn's mustache

9. "seven years serving you? i deserve worse than that"

10. "everyone has their own rebellion"

11. The Eye

12. the lady who cries watching the eye

13. Bee

14. Brasso

15. Bix

16. Xanwan and Granik

17. all the ferrixians really

18. ghost maarva

19. WORLDBUILDING

20. on location filming

21. and building a real town

22. ludwig hopper

23. cinta being onto corv from moment one

24. cinta stabbing corv

25. SPLUTES

26. squigs

27. monologues

28. weird drama between exes

29. the ep 7 scene between mon and tay

30. NEWMAN

31. unit 5-2D

32. noodles brian

33. everyone hating syril

34. including his mom

35. flob

36. HAND HOLDING

37. the heist explanation scene

38. how blue vel's eyes are in the heist explanation scene

39. cinta and gorn's telepathic eye roll

40. DRAY

41. vel playing uno reverse when perrin tries to make fun of her

42. mon's "i know what you are" look at vel

43. all of episode 5

44. everything nicholas britell was doing

45. diegetic music

46. diegetic music the remix! x2

47. the Paak boys

48. eedy's nosy neighbor

49. Heert

50. space hoodies

51. scary tie fighters

52. scotland i mean aldhani

53. the charm on vel's walking stick (insert cry emoji)

54. melshi

55. sweet baby Nemik

56. clem

57. keef girgo

58. cassian somebody?

59. windi

60. willi

61. STAIRS DROID

62. kleya's strut

63. everything in luthen's shop

64. mon's limo

65. sharing a blanket

66. ponchos

67. dedra being sadistic

68. ham

69. ham making the jump

70. zinska's step of faith

71. dewi and freedi

72. Jezzi

73. THE DRUMS IN PILGRIM

74. "come away from the window"

75. memorable dray milk

76. lil Kerri

77. Time Grappler

78. Time Grappler kicking that guy off the tower

79. divorced dads Saw and Luthen

80. Benthic having to deal with his divorced dads

81. the music from the s1 trailer that makes me want to run through a wall

82. "never more than twelve"

83. "you love me because i show you what you need to see"

84. when cinta looks right at vel before jumping off the dam

85. "CLIIIIIMB"

86. doctor quadpaw

87. mon framing perrin for her crimes

88. "thesis, please"

89. Blevin's one sentence monologue

90. literally everything about the aldhani arc

91. literally everything about the aldhani crew

92. gornboda

93. "tell him our ghosts have strong hands and long memories"

94. brasso smashing the guy with the brick and then screaming

95. pegla's dogs

96. mostly competent bad guys

97. velcinta

98. 12 full length episodes

99. endless shitposting potential

100. the friends we've made along the way <3

i know i've left out so much so feel free to add your own!!

[entomolog-t]

Bitten - Part I

What is this?? A written post?? My Bite Me size swap is finally up (sorta). I initially was going to post this all in one shot, but it got long so enjoy non canon Bite Me content 💕

I've been absolutely swamped lately, so hopefully me posting is a sign that things are finally easing up!!

Shortly after the events of Chapter 10 Aedes wakes up to a rather big surprise- or perhaps more accurately, a small one.

Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13 @naive-bias

- - - -

Next Part

Word count: 1238

CW: Nudity (non-explcit/implied), Adult language

Warm hands envelope Aedes in a way that dances on the border of intimate and claustrophobic. His thoughts felt thick, almost sticky in his mind, as they struggled to flow. Those soft doting hands clung to him, overwhelming in their size, anchoring him firmly in place. He can’t move- but … was that really so bad? With his mind in a daze, he didn’t have the capacity to tell himself he hated it. Far from it… There was an undeniably comfort in the silken touch, warm in a way that surpassed intimate. Warm in a way that would melt pain from his chest, render flesh from his bones and put him together anew. Those plush hands dotted over him, filled him with life - with such vigor and… and- 

Want. 

So much want. 

He knew her taste, its memory, sweetened with time, dances on the tip of his tongue just out of reach. So did her name. What was it again… He’d seen it somewhere…

If only he could drink. He was sure he could find her name and so much more hidden away in that taste. 

From her hands, all encompassing in their grasp, he felt her pulse. The rhythm of her rattles his bones, shaking him to his core. Each beat moves him, yet he himself remains unable to do so- anchored in place by strangely sticky thoughts and firm hands. God, if only he could just turn his head. If only he could sink his teeth into her… have just the smallest taste- 

A drop. 

He would gladly drown in a single drop. 

If only he wasn’t stuck- if only he could be set free from their grasp. 

Then, all at once, he was. 

Falling. 

Without their warm embrace- their suffocating hold, was sent falling back-

Or maybe, falling into himself? Aedes awoke as the ground met his face. 

The fall, it seemed, had not been exclusive to the dream. 

Rubbing his face, Aedes feels the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Something was off. He grimaced- not at all fond of the strange stain the remnants of the dream, no, nightmare, had left on his brain. It left him with a strange chill on his body, as if he was yearning for the warmth of the dream…

Or… clothes? Aedes looks down, startled by his own apparent lack of modesty. Why am I… 

As Aedes moves to sit up, the strange realization is immediately put on the back burner as a much stranger realization takes its place. His stomach lurches as his mind struggles in vain to right itself. 

High. His stomach lurches, as if forgotten someway far below. Too high- Why was he so high up?? Vertigo hit him with all the grace of a car crash as he heaved- his very being ripped away from the ground and rocketing up by his own doing-  much too high much too fast.  

Slowly, on his hands and knees, Aedes blinks. 

The dizzying spin didn’t leave- but his breath certainly did. 

If he hadn’t so abruptly woken up he would have thought he was still dreaming. Cool morning air sent a chill over his skin from a window he could reach out and touch. Books fit for his hands lined the shelves he had so recently scaled. Clawed fingers traced the various knick knacks that should have dwarfed him… 

That, until this very morning, had dwarfed him.

How…

His mind scrambles to make sense of it all. He needed answers. 

He needed to know how this happened-

How could this happen?

But more than anything, Aedes needed to know how to breathe. 

Each shakily attempted breath felt stuttered, the tightening feeling in his chest constricting each and every inhale. His heart pounded wildly against his lagging lungs, yet it wasn’t the beat of his own that concerned him. 

Aedes' ears twitched, straining to hear the faint thrum, the slightest indication of something, someone, alive in the room with him. 

His eyes locked on the source in an instant. 

June. 

Her name finally finds its home on his lips- stolen from some hastily placed piece of ID left laying on her desk. June Murphy. 12 Oakline Road, Saint Mira Lake, ON. Born June 18th. 172 cm.  Aedes swallowed a lump of mixed emotions at the sight of her.  

Small… God she’s so small. 

And he… was not. 

Nearly buried in a mass of blankets and oversized clothes, June Murphy stares at the relative behemoth in front of her- mind reeling as they lock eyes.

This… This has to be a dream right? 

Yet she was all too aware of reality, having been jolted awake by the thunderous impact of what she’d initially assumed to have been … well, really anything but the reality that was staring back at her. A car could have plowed straight through her living room wall and it would have made more sense than what she was seeing.

Yet despite the unfamiliar perspective, she recognized him in an instant. The tousled black hair, the pointed ears… 

Those piercing eyes. 

Aedes. 

In an instant, he was on his knees, moving at a speed June found to be even more unsettling now that he loomed above her. The sight of him so close was… bizarre… Uncanny even. Sure, she’d technically seen him far closer, when he’d been… 

Pressed up against her lips… 

In the palm of her hand…

June’s face flushes at the memory. You really don’t get much closer than that… and yet… even at what must have been a foot or more away, she saw him far more intimately than when she’d… June’s thoughts wander off, far too entranced by the man in front of her to remain focused on anything else. 

Aedes was far more handsome than she had initially realized, and she’d already had quite the high impression of his aesthetics. His pale skin was smooth, bordering on flawless even at such a scale, his features were defined, a straight nose, distinct jawline, yet the edges had a softness to them, smooth in a way that seemed inviting- as if they’d been carved from marble. Her gaze lingered on the soft yet rich color of his lips, the realization that this man really wasn’t human hitting her hard- the knowledge that there were teeth behind such a pretty feature sending a shiver through her. Though none of his features held a candle to his eyes. Piercing and black, this stare bore into her… defile her, even…

June scrambles back, face hot. 

Aedes does the same, reeling back at her sudden movement, as if somehow seeing her move confirmed this was, in fact, reality.

Oh… A knot forms in his throat, She’s afraid of me.

He swallows, the act noticeably harder than it should have been. 

Of course she is, he thinks, unable to hold her gaze. She looks so… helpless.  His face grows hot at the thought, guilt, like bile, rises in his throat. 

Did she think he’d hurt her?

“Shhh,” Aedes hushes, hands reaching cautiously towards her, afraid she’d run off if given the opportunity. “Please… don't be afraid.”

He would.

As he reaches, Aedes’ eyes catch sight of his blacked claws. The sight freezes him in place, stomach churning at the thought of what he must look like to her. She had been terrifying. If this woman before him had been terrifying- what was he?

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 10- keep me from my grave

"Well, don't sing me praise. Just keep me from my grave." -Me Against the Devil by The Relentless

Main Masterlist Regent Series Part 9

They met at a bookstore. 

It had been almost two full months since the Joker had met his end, his head mounted and strangely not decomposed, with Jason returned to the Batfamily Gotham had settled into a lull. Not a quiet one, but a lull nonetheless. 

Jason was taking a break from sorting through cases with Dick, head throbbing from the lack of sleep and patience for annoying siblings wearing thin. 

The bookstore, tucked away in a quiet part of Old Gotham, was often empty of people during the day. Despite its large bay windows, comfy seating and welcoming atmosphere, the Page-Turner would remain a hidden gem to the city dwellers. For Jason, it was a haven he could never feel bad about keeping to himself. 

He’d branched out from classics some time ago, deciding to try other genres he’d long since ignored for the Bard, meandering around the shelves to find a title that caught his eye. 

It was between the mysteries and thrillers that he found her. 

Her. 

She was sitting on the ground with her back pressed against the thriller shelves, slender jean-clad legs tucked towards her chest to cradle a book, eyes never straying from the pages, red hair tied into a low ponytail with what looked like a small braid tucked behind one ear. Jason couldn’t tear his eyes away from her soft features, desperately wanting her eyes to meet his, her lips to offer him a smile and her hands to cradle his own.

 For the first time in his life, Jason finally understood what the regency novels meant by love at first sight… because the man was halfway there already. 

The Page Turner was a haven admist the chaos that was Jazz’s life, especially once she finally admitted to herself and Danny that she needed help to manage her depression. Her little brother was concerned, but also relieved when she confronted the elephant in the room first. He’d been weary of bringing it up himself, not wanting to worry her more. 

(Silly brother.)

(It was her job to worry.)

Nonetheless, Jazz asked around among the living and dead for a therapist recommendation, which she was correct about it being difficult in Gotham, but Jazz didn’t want to branch out just yet. A toss up between disbelief and enthusiasm awaited her, but she didn’t let it deter her from contacting the recommended psychologist- Harleen Quinzel. 

A bit awkward to be in a session with the reformed rogue, dutifully ignoring whatever lingering shades wanted her attention. Harley was a great listener, more importantly she cared about Jazz as a patient, as a human being. Whatever Bozo the Clown had done to her, what she had survived, had given Harley a new lease on life with his death (ironically). 

“It sounds like ya never been allowed to simply be, Jazz.” Harley spoke plainly and evenly, her brooklyn accent barely clipping her words. The redhead had spoken of her childhood, her brother’s death, the neglect.

Opened up about the nightmares, how Danny’s destroyed grave haunted her. Let the truth spill from her lips, free to simply exist in the space between the two women. Sure, Jazz would never spill secrets about the Realms, but where it concerned her guilt, or lack thereof, about the blood on her hands- yes, Jazz knew Harley wouldn’t judge her. 

And it was true, Jazz had no childhood. She was Danny’s caretaker, his first memory, his first steps towards, the first to have his back. There had never been just Jazz, only Jazz and Danny. Every dream she’d once had, broken and scattered in the ashes of Danny’s grave. 

(Danny had no hope of reaching the stars, of being an astronaut, with his death.)

“Sweetie, Danny sounds like he is capable of taking care of himself for a while. Have you considered finding a hobby?” Harley questioned, sincere in her wish to help. 

Jazz sighed, “I wouldn’t know where to begin.” What did she have outside her little brother and work as Regency? 

“Do ya like to read?” 

Jazz huffed, finding amusement with that question. Of course she liked, no, loved to read. It had been her one escape from the nightmares so long ago, but she hadn’t found the time since taking regency to lose herself in a good book. 

Harley didn’t need her to respond, offering a sincere smile in response to Jazz’s lack of reply. 

“There’s a bookstore in Old Gotham, the Page Turner, ya could check out? There’s no pressure to pick up a book, but it would be enough to just get through the door, yeah?” 

“I’ll try.” 

“That’s a good start.” 

As it was, Jazz wasn’t able to find time between Realms Work and patrol to do anything other than sleeping, eating, and various other tasks that filled her days (and nights). The more it itched at her, to listen to the therapist she liked, the more Jazz wanted to read a book. To get lost in a good story, just like she used to. 

Patrols were harder with Hood back, his haunt under his command once more and streets protected by a vigilante in red. Only twice in the few weeks since Jason had been moved from her side to the batcave had the Regent caught a glimpse of him, both as his nighttime persona, and from a distance Jazz hadn’t been able to sense him as clearly as previous. He did seem healthier with the pure ecto and his Proto-Core, though Jazz was in no mood to test her luck by crossing into his Haunt. 

The girls were sad to see the Regent less, even though Jazz remained firmly in the Phantom haunt and was barely a few minutes away at any given time, but it was the principle of the thing. The Regent was one of the good ones and a woman at that. A woman who could kick ass wasn’t rare, but it was rare that they would take up a vigilante role for the occupants of the Alley. 

Red Hood, while awesome and respected by his people, was a man. 

Some of the girls were gradually drifting into the Phantom haunt, or a shitty part of Old Gotham that bordered on the Alley. Regardless of it’s quality it belonged to the Phantom Fraid… and Phantom was a Protector Spirit. 

(With the Regent and the Phantom, crime was all but extinct in their haunt.)

With the decrease in crime, Jazz was finally able to dematrilize her armor, set down her sword and enter the Page Turner. 

A distinct mix of old books, ink, and some kind of body spray welcomed the redhead once she stepped inside, intrigued by the sense of calm that greeted her in place of a human. 

Which was fine, Jazz preferred to browse in peace. 

Grateful for the shelves being categorized, Jazz found herself enthralled by a thriller (They Never Learn by Layne Fargo) and didn’t notice another person in the aisle until they were within arm’s reach. 

Jazz flinched back, embarrassed by her lack of focus and attention to her surroundings, dangerous when one is a vigilante in Gotham. She greeted the man in front of her after a few moments of awkward silence, his stare making the redhead even more embarrassed, but now by her appearance. She'd been too tired to fuss with her hair or clothes beyond ensuring the orange-red strands were brushed into a semblance of order and her clothes were somewhat decent. 

(Jazz was more concerned with her bracelets being concealed under glamour and sleeves.)

(The metal, eternally cool against her warm skin, offered some comfort in times like these.)

(She was the Lady of the Acropolis, once student of Pandora, the Ancient of Peace.) 

(There is nothing that can make her feel lesser without her consent.) 

“Uh, hi.” 

(Oh how eloquent, Jasmine.) 

“Hi.” The deep voice, smooth and accented like a native Gotham, made Jazz finally move her gaze from his chest- nice chest as it was, it was his eyes that made her breath rush from her lungs. 

Jason. 

.....Jason!

(Oh yes, Jazz picked a good day to walk into the Page Turner.) 

(She was finally able to talk to her dream man.)

(She wasn’t disappointed.) 

(And by the smiles they had as walked away, neither was Jason.) 

A/N:

This isn't the best, I know. Hey, they finally meet! Keep an eye for the updated masterlist, because I'll be putting the link up and changing some of the chapter titles. Thanks for reading!

Update: “They Never Learn” by Layne Fargo is an actual book, with a female Anti-Hero who kills bad men. I don’t want to say more because I’ll spoil something, but it’s a great book.

[focsle]

have you written anything about tattoos? is that relevant? don't know how your niche lines up with generic "sailor" tradition, but wikipedia simply says on knuckle tats that deckhands may get "HOLD / FAST" as a charm to support their grip on rigging, and i thought that was kind of cute.

I haven't written anything myself, mostly cos if you throw a stick out in the internet you'll find any number of articles about the symbolism of sailor tattoos, like hold fast and pigs and roosters and swallows and all that!

In my narrow window (the middle decades of the 19th century), I don't see tattoos mentioned all too often, compared to late 19th and throughout the 20th century where they became more common. For instance, this register of seaman's protection certificates (which are admittedly limited in the scope of things, since they're only from a few specific ports) from 1796-1871 rarely list tattoos as distinguishing marks, beyond the odd mention of being marked with an inked anchor, eagle, or letters here or there. Here's a neat jstor article (if you have any more of your 100 free monthly articles to read with a google account) that goes into late 18th-early 19th c tattoos that has some tables and visuals. The research was also done using seaman's protection certificates, with the following stat:

"The SPC-A records start in 1796 and include tattooed men born as early as 1746. There were 979 tattooed men out of a total of 9,772 men whose records survive from 1796 through 1818.26 These men were marked with a total of about 2,354 separate designs."

So, not a large number, but also 10% isn't insignificant. The protection certificates while a reliable source, also only describe the man in one specific moment. I'm sure a few of those men who just have their moles and scars and crooked fingers listed eventually picked up a tattoo or two in their time. Most journal keepers perhaps didn't think it important to mention who had tattoos or what of, though the typical motifs of anchors, nautical stars, girls, religious & patriotic imagery, etc. were certainly a part of the visual language at this point. Whaler William Abbe who sailed in the 1850s, devoted considerable attention to describing the physical appearance of some of his shipmates. In one instance, he wrote about the tattoos of one 'Johnny Come Lately' or 'Jack Marlinspike' (Real name, John Hewes of Buffalo NY)

'from beneath this cap his face looms out - while beneath supporting his comical head is a bare neck and breast — hairy + brown —the upper timbers to a stout hull of a boat that boast a pair of arms all covered with India ink tattooings — the figure of American Liberty — Christ on the cross — an American Tar holding a star spangled banner in one hand + a coil of rope in the other — a fancy girl — + anchors, rings, crosses, knots, stars all over his wrists + hands — the memorials of different ports he has visited — for Jack has been in all kinds of vessels from a man of war to a blubber hunter — + has consequently been to many ports.'

From the logbook of another whaler who sailed in the early 1840s, James Moore Ritchie, he had a page of his drawings with prices included. This potentially may have been a tattoo flash sheet for his shipmates:

American whalers also noted the tattoos of indigenous people who had signed on to whaling vessels, particularly in the South Pacific. William B. Whitecar, whaling in the 1850s wrote: "Several New Zealanders in the respective crews of these vessels attracted my attention from the tattooing on their bodies" making mention of "figures on their face and breast".

I'm too sleepy to have a conclusion lol. Tattoos! They existed! Though perhaps not as ubiquitously as the pop culture sailor designs would imply, at least prior to the late 19th c.